Art

THE “Nation,” in its review of the “ Atlantic ” for October, expressed its pleasure at what it chose to call our withdrawal from the discusssion of Mr. Ward’s Shakespeare. It touched lightly upon our comparison of its present opinions on this sculptor’s Indian with those it professed when the statue first appeared and surprised us, as, we dare say, it surprised a great many of its readers, by the declaration that in the interval between its two prophecies it had been improving its mind. It is true, as it asserts, that its notions of Indian structure are the same to-day that they were five or six years ago, and that we have pointed out the resemblance. But the difference lies just here, that when the Indian Hunter first appeared, the “ Nation ” praised it for its faithful rendering of that structure, whereas, now, it laughs at it for its unfaithfulness. We venture to think that, under the circumstances, if it would take a little more time for conning its expressions, its readers might find it to their advantage. To the question it puts whether we think we are profitably employed in thus raking up its old opinions and comparing them with its new ones, we answer, that certainly it is of little profit to ourselves, but why will not the “Nation,” that works so hard for others, allow others, now and then, to do it a little good in return ? And who can doubt that when people quietly assume omniscience and throw reckless assertions about, that it is profitable to them, both for instruction and reproof, to show them occasionally that they are at least almost human in their liability to err ? As for the discussion, in our supposed withdrawal from which the “ Nation ” has found a lofty pleasure, we have to say that we never had it in mind to enter upon a discussion either with the “Nation” or with any other journal on the subject either of Mr. Ward’s Shakespeare or of his Indian Hunter ; we expressed our opinion of Mr. Ward’s principal works, and, in speaking of the Hunter, we defended the sculptor against an innuendo of which the “ Nation ” allowed itself to be made the mouthpiece in advance of its publication elsewhere, as to the originality of the pose of the group. Since then, the innuendo has taken the shape of an assertion in Laura Keene’s “ Fine-Arts ” that the pose of the Indian Hunter is directly borrowed, and spoiled too in the borrowing, from Gibson’s Greek Hunter, a statue which never was in this country, nor any cast or copy of it, and of which the only knowledge Mr. Ward could have had must have come through a woodcut in the Illustrated Catalogue of the great Hyde Park Exhibition, a book seldom seen out of a public library. We were prepared to have the Gibson statue brought forward as Mr. Ward’s original, though some time ago it was the Discobolos from Herculaneum, in the Naples Museum, that was complimented with having given Mr. Ward the first suggestion of his Indian. The Gibson statue makes a much better foundation than the Discobolos for the charge of plagiarism ; the resemblance of Ward’s Indian to it being certainly very striking. It is of course possible that the English group may have suggested the American, but the treatment of the subject is so different in the two, that the obligation of the younger sculptor to the older would be about the same as that of Milton to Cædmon or to Andreini, or as that of Raffaelle to Masaccio or Perugino, or to any one of a dozen others from whom he borrowed, when he saw anything that pleased him, and made what he borrowed his own.

As for the piece of fur about the Indian’s loins, the writer in “ Fine-Arts ” is certainly mistaken in supposing that it was put there either to hide the bad modelling of the pelvis, or to conceal the incorrect way in which the legs are inserted. There was, we are sure, no other reason for putting on this bit of drapery than the supposed necessity of throwing a sop to the Cerberus of prudery. If Ward had had his own way, he would have left the Indian naked. Beside, it might have occurred to the writer, that if Mr. Ward was so conscious of his weakness in anatomy as intentionally to cover up from the critics one part of his poor workmanship, he should have been equally conscious of all his short-comings and frankly put his savage into breeches and a pea-jacket. So much for the Indian Hunter, which we must still be permitted to think a worthy work, in spite of the flaws that have been picked in its anatomy. Indeed, it is some consolation to remember that the critics, with their compasses and probes and scalpels, have left not a single important statue, old or new, with a clean bill of health, from the Venus de Medicis, with her head notoriously too small, or the Antinoüs with his too much fat, or the Venus of Milo with her too long leg, to the poor Greek Slave whose “ thunders of white silence ” seem now to our ears most tame stage-thunder indeed. Nay, even the “ competent critic" of the “Nation” in looking about for some statue that it may recommend for legitimate admiration to the poor, untravelled American folk who ignorantly think well of W ard, has nothing better to set up as a standard than that third-rate melodramatic statue of Vela’s, The Dying Napoleon, with its claptrap appeal to the vulgar love of clever imitative stone-cutting and to the popular admiration for the First Napoleon, — a statue of which the best French critics made short work, even at a time when in France everything connected with “ the family ” was looked upon as almost sacred.

That its mechanical execution is nearly perfect we willingly admit, though the difficulties to be overcome in the way of anatomy are clearly reduced to a minimum ; but, as a statue, a work of high art, it has hardly a single fine quality : and perhaps no important piece ofsculpture of modern times—and puffery and hero-worship and the vulgar love of the marvellous have done what they could to make this work of Vela’s seem an important one — could have been chosen less fitted to make our American sculptors feel the force of the “ Nation’s ” verdict, that alongside the works of European skill they are like school-boys preparing themes.

We did not, at the time, believe the statements first made by the “ Fine-Arts,” and afterward redelivered by the writer in the “ Nation ” with such posturings and flourishes as his nature willed, that the Shakespeare is only six and a half of its heads in height; but we preferred to wait until we could contradict it on the strength of a personal examination. No writer not more bent on epigram and the display of his own learning than on finding out the truth and reporting it, would have made the assertions that “ the head of the Shakespeare is miles outside of all permitted license,” on the mere strength of an offhand measurement from a photograph ; nor would a writer, with a proper respect for his place and for the public, indulge himself in so wild a flight of libel as to say that Ward, “ by the scale he has seen fit to adopt for his figure of le divin Villiams has attached it [sic] to the class of burlesques made by Assi and Pellegrini, in ‘ Vanity Fair,’ and by André Gill, in ‘ La Lune.' ” Words like these bear exaggeration on their face to the instructed; but people who are little interested in the subject, or who have no means of learning the truth, will naturally believe that the statements of a journal of so much pretension as the “ Nation ” must have some truth in them ; and it becomes necessary to expose their untruthfulness. Looking at the statue with eyes sufficiently taught by study and experience— as with all due modesty we dare to hope — not to be ridiculously deceived, we could not find any such outrageous disproportion, nor, indeed, any disproportion at all, in the Shakespeare. What we said in September, we say again after repeated visits to the statue and the most careful study. We saw a well-proportioned figure which left with us the impression of so much manlinesss, sincerity, and right-thinking in the sculptor of it, and of such strong beauty in the lines and masses, with so much lightness in the poise, that, its short-comings duly weighed, we felt its excellences far outnumbered its faults, and that it must be long before any sculptor would give us a more satisfactory Shakespeare. Another reason for our disbelief in the statement of the “ Fine-Arts ” was found in the fact that the measurements did not profess to have been taken from the statue itself, but from a photograph, and a glance at their diagram showed where they had missed the mark. For the photograph must give us a curved image, and no measure taken from it is worth anything where accuracy is concerned. And, to make matters worse, the slightly stooping figure of Shakespeare is set against the proudly erect, triumphing figure of the Apollo. But the ancients made a marked distinction between the proportions of ideal statues and those of portrait-statues, and a sculptor who should have had in hand a statue of Æschylus or Aristophanes, would not have been quarrelled with or snubbed if he had made it of different proportions from those used in the case of an Apollo. So that the comparison of Ward’s Shakespeare with the Belvedere Apollo is hardly a fair one, if Ward had it in mind, as we think he had, to portray the real William Shakespeare and not the ideal one. And, once more, to give all our reasons for doubting the statement of the “ Fine-Arts,” we asked ourselves whether it was not reasonable to take it for granted, that a man of forty-two years, who, since his seventeenth year, has been studying the art of sculpture, would know as well as the first stone-cutter what are the proportions of the human figure as commonly received; whether a reserved, industrious, thoughtful workman, who had learned the rudiments of his profession from the besttaught and most experienced American sculptor now living, Henry K. Brown, would be likely to make a statue that should be a caricature “ miles away from all permitted license ” ? How came Mr. Ward to be reckoned the clever sculptor that he is, if, in a work of the importance of the Shakespeare, he could betray such a want of the sense of proportion as the measurement of the “ Fine-Arts ” and the “Nation” would make him chargeable with ?

There was clearly but one way to settle the question, and that was to measure the statue itself. This has accordingly been done. Mr. Henry K. Brown went with us to the Central Park, where, the authorities having put everything at our disposition, he measured the statue in our presence with the following result: The height of the head was found by taking the distance from the tip of the chin to the bridge of the nose and reckoning this as half the head. The curved compass was of course used, and the beard thus not in the measurer’s way. The result was six and a half inches, thus making the height of the head thirteen inches. The measurement by “ noses ” made the head four noses high, which is the usual rule. The whole height of the statue was then found to be eight feet, — ninety-six inches, — and this divided by thirteen, gives the result, seven and five thirteenths, or nearly a whole head above the height stated by the “Nation.” The “Fine-Arts,” and the “Nation ” repeating the “ Fine-Arts’ ” statement, make the Apollo eight heads high, but the best authorities, Audran, Dr. Zeising, and Quetelet, make it not more than seven and six eighths, while the Antinoüs is only seven and one half heads. Thus we see that this André Gill-Assi-Pellegrini caricature, with its head miles away from all permitted license, belongs as to its proportions with some of the most famous antique statues. To use the elegant simile of the “competent critic ” of the “ Nation,” which of us is it who may be said, in view of this result, to be turning hand-springs, and showing his heels at the windows of the judgment-hall ? The plaster cast of the Shakespeare in Mr. Ward’s study was afterward measured by us (of course without Mr. Ward’s knowledge, he being, at the time, absent in Europe), and the result obtained by Mr. Brown from the bronze was confirmed by us from the plaster. At the same time we also settled another matter. The writer in the “ Fine-Arts ” charges that the left arm of the Shakespeare “ is several inches shorter than the right.” Now, nobody can decide that this difference exists by the eye alone, and only great carelessness in measuring could have given such a result as a difference of “ several inches,” seeing that an accurate measurement, first by the curved compasses and then by the tape, makes the real difference one inch and a half. But this difference in the length of his statue’s arms is not to be charged upon Ward as a proof of ignorance ; it is simply a proof of his carefulness. The left arm is an inch and a half shorter than the right, because the right is strongly bent, the hand being brought up high on the breast, whereas the left is in a position that would not alter its length to any appreciable degree, the shoulder being merely pushed higher up. Anybody who really wishes to find out the truth of this matter, and who is not merely moved by an excessive charity to save poor Mr. Ward from being spoiled by flattery, and therefore anxious to invent flaws in his work, may prove on the first person who will bare an arm for him how great is the difference in length caused by strongly bending the arm. But we suppose it is not necessary to dilate upon so common an experience. But even granting that Ward had made one arm shorter than the other, shall he be sent to Coventry for that ? Claude Audran published in 1683 a work in which he gave the measurements made by himself of the most celebrated antique statues. He is reckoned a very good authority on the subject. Quetelet, another well-known writer of great authority, who always speaks of Audran with respect, quotes from him the following statement: “ In the most beautiful of the antique figures we remark things that we should certainly reckon faults if we noticed them in the works of a modern. Thus the Laocoön has the left leg longer than the other by 4 minutes;¹ the left leg of the Apollo is about nine minutes longer than the right leg. The bent leg of the Venus de Medicis is longer than the one on which she stands by one part and three minutes, and the right leg of the older of the two sons of Laocoön is nearly nine minutes longer than the other.” It is true that Audran imagines these imperfections to be intentional, but his theory does not concern us here. It is enough that we need not be too hard upon a modern for making one arm of a statue a trifle longer than the other, supposing him to have done so without evident reason, when those impeccable “slaves” of ancients are allowed to shorten legs and arms at their own sweet Procrustean wills, and are praised for the liberty they take, while philosophers scratch their heads for reasons why they did it. It is not a little amusing, by the way, to hear with what solemn emphasis the “ Nation ” warns us that, in art, whoever ceases to be a slave is of no use thereafter to anybody. We are quite as strong in our belief that exactly the reverse is true, and that the artist who does not leave his master’s workshop a freeman, or who does not speedily become a freeman, is worse than useless to the world. When the “ Nation " will point us to any great or excelling artist who was a slave, we will name him a greater who never knew what slavery meant. We venture to think that Michael Angelo has been of some use in the world, yet even the “ Nation ” admits that he was a life-long experimenter. Raphael and Leonardo were always in search of the ideal, and Dürer sadly wrote, near the end of his life of toilsome study, “ The things that once pleased me in my art please me no longer.” A man cannot be a slave to a law that is not known nor fixed. In this matter of “ proportion,” no two sculptors are agreed; and if two statues out of the small circle of ancient masterpieces have the same proportions throughout, it is much ; though what their agreement or disagreement may be, we do not really know, as they have never been measured with absolute accuracy, and no writer accepts the measurement of any other writer except in a general way. We may accept as true the generally received proportions of the human figure as from seven and a half to eight heads high. This is the statement of Vitruvius, though Audran, a much better authority, does not give eight heads to the tallest of the antique statues. We, in our turn, will give a generous hand to the public, and assure it that Mr. Ward’s Shakespeare is seven and five thirteenths of its head in height, and that it will find no sculptor of repute nor any “competent critic ” who will apply his compasses to the statue itself, or to the cast, and make it add up a materially different sum. We say “ materially different,” remembering Quetelet’s words : “ Les points entre lesquels on prend les mesures sont en général mal définis ; la hauteur de la jambe, par exemple, ou la longueur du bras, surtout si la statue exprime une action, donneront rarement les mêmes résultats à deux observateurs différents, ou même à un seul observateur les mesurant deux fois de suite.” And again, “ Schadon s’est aussi occupé de déterminer les proportions de la femme ; il donne quelques nombres pris sur le modèle vivant et d’autres d’après l’antique. II fait connaitre par exemple les proportions de la Vénus de Médicis, qui ont été données également dans l’ouvrage d’ Audran ; il est assez remarquable que ces deux artistes ne sont pas du tout d’accord sur la plupart des proportions. C’est une nouvelle preuve de la difficulté qu’on éprouve àa obtenir des déterminations exactes en mesurant le corps humain, même sur le marbre ou sur le plâtre.” See, also, W. W. Story, “ The Proportions of the Human Figure, etc., etc,” pp. 38, 39. It would seem, then, that Ward has followed in his statue the ordinary practice, but we maintain that no one has a right to insist on his following any absolute rule of proportion in making a portrait-statue but that supplied by his own sense of fitness. He had as much right as had Michael Angelo or Raffaelle, Leonardo or Dürer, to try experiments.

We say as little as is possible about the animus of the “ Nation’s ” article on Ward’s Shakespeare. So far as it is criticism of the statue from a purely æsthetic point, it is not only not to be deprecated, but to be cordially welcomed ; and whatever there is of wisdom in it, to be read, marked, learned, and inwardly digested. But misstatements for which there is no excuse, since it was as easy for the critic of the “ Nation ” to measure the statue as for us to measure it; sneers founded on these wilful misstatements, and others such as the “ nutcracker ” profile, and “ the peak of the nose portraying and attenuating itself into the atmosphere,”—to call such writing “ criticism ” is simply an abuse of terms.