LITMIR.BIZ

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      Agent. — Shall I tell you a more modern story?

      Spectator. — I would rather listen to stories than arguments.

      Agent. — A certain great naturalist, among other domesticated animals, possessed an ape, which he missed one day, and found after a long search in the library. There sat the beast on the ground, with the plates of an unbound work of Natural History scattered about him. Astonished at this zealous fit of study on the part of his familiar, the gentleman approached, and found, to his wonder and vexation, that the dainty ape had been making his dinner of the beetles that were pictured in various places.

      Spectator. — It is a droll story.

      Agent. — And seasonable, I hope. You would not compare these colored copperplates with the work of so great an artist.?

      Spectator. — No, indeed.

      Agent. — But you would reckon the ape among the uncultivated amateurs?

      Spectator. — Yes, and among the greedy ones! You awaken in me a singular idea. Does not the uncultivated amateur, just in the same way, desire a work to be natural, that he may be able to enjoy it in a natural, which is often a vulgar and common way?

      Agent. — I am entirely of that opinion.

      Spectator. — And you maintain, therefore, that an artist lowers himself when he tries to produce this effect?

      Agent. — Such is my firm conviction.

      Spectator. — But here again I feel a contradiction. You did me just now the honor to number me, at least, among the half-cultivated spectators.

      Agent. — Among those who are on the way to become true connoisseurs.

      Spectator. — Then explain to me, Why does a perfect work of art appear like a work of nature to me also?

      Agent. — Because it harmonizes with your better nature. Because it is above natural, yet not unnatural. A perfect work of art is a work of the human soul, and in this sense, also, a work of nature. But because it collects together the scattered objects, of which it displays even the most minute in all their significance and value, it is above nature. It is comprehensible only by a mind that is harmoniously formed and developed, and such an one discovers that what is perfect and complete in itself is also in harmony with himself. The common spectator, on the contrary, has no idea of it; he treats a work of art as he would any object he meets with in the market. But the true connoisseur sees not only the truth of the imitation, but also the excellence of the selection, the refinement of the composition, the superiority of the little world of art; he feels that he must rise to the level of the artist, in order to enjoy his work; he feels that he must collect himself out of his scattered life, must live with the work of art, see it again and again, and through it receive a higher existence.

      Spectator. — Well said, my friend, I have often made similar reflections upon pictures, the drama, and other species of poetry, and had an instinct of those things you require. I will in future give more heed both to myself and to works of art. But if I am not mistaken, we have left the subject of our dispute quite behind. You wished to persuade me that the painted spectators at our opera are admissible, and I do not yet see, though we have come to an agreement, by what arguments you mean to support this license, and under what rubric I am to admit these painted lookers-on.

      Agent. — Fortunately, the opera is repeated to-night; I trust you will not miss it.

      Spectator. — On no account.

      Agent. — And the painted men.?

      Spectator. — Shall not drive me away, for I think myself something more than a sparrow.

      Agent. — I hope that a mutual interest may soon bring us together again.

      SIMPLE IMITATION OF NATURE, MANNER, STYLE

      (1789)

      It does not seem to be superfluous to define dearly the meaning we attach to these words, which we shall often have occasion to make use of. For, however long we may have been in the habit of using them, and however they may seem to have been defined in theoretical works, still every one continues to use them in a way of his own, and means more or less by them, according to the degree of clearness or uncertainty with which he has seized the ideas they express.

       Simple Imitation of Nature

      If an artist, in whom we must of course suppose a natural talent, is in the first stage of progress, and after having in some measure practiced eye and hand, turns to natural objects, uses all care and fidelity in the most perfect imitation of their forms and colors, never knowingly departs from nature, begins and ends in her presence every picture that he undertakes, — such an artist must possess high merit, for he cannot fail of attaining the greatest accuracy, and his work must be full of certainty, variety and strength.

      If these conditions are clearly considered, it will be easily seen that a capable but limited talent can in this way treat agreeable but limited subjects.

      Such subjects must always be easy to find. Leisurely observation and quiet imitation must be allowed for; the disposition that occupies itself in such works must be a quiet one, self-contained, and satisfied with moderate gratification.

      This sort of imitation will thus be practiced by men of quiet, true, limited nature, in the representation of dead or still-life subjects. It does not by its nature exclude a high degree of perfection.

       Manner

      But man finds, usually, such a mode of proceeding too timid and inadequate. He perceives a harmony among many objects, which can only be brought into a picture by sacrificing the individual. He gets tired of using Nature's letters each time to spell after her. He invents a way, devises a language for himself, so as to express in his own fashion the idea his soul has attained, and give to the object he has so many times repeated a distinctive form, without having recourse to nature itself each time he repeats it, or even without recalling exactly the individual form.

      Thus a language is created, in which the mind of the speaker expresses and utters itself immediately; and as in each individual who thinks, the conceptions of spiritual objects are formed and arranged differently, so will every artist of this class see, understand, and imitate the outward world in a different manner, will seize its phenomena with a more or less observant eye, and reproduce them more accurately or loosely.

      We see that this species of imitation is applied with the best effect in cases where a great whole comprehends many subordinate objects. These last must be sacrificed in order to attain the general expression of the whole, as is the case in landscapes, for instance, where the aim would be missed if we attended too closely to the details, instead of keeping in view the idea of the whole.

       Style

      When at last art, by means of imitation of Nature, of efforts to create a common language, and of clear and profound study of objects themselves, has acquired a clearer and clearer knowledge of the peculiarities of objects and their mode of being, oversees the classes of forms, and knows how to connect and imitate those that are distinct and characteristic, — then will Style reach the highest point it is capable of, the point where it may be placed on a par with the highest efforts of the human mind.

      Simple Imitation springs from quiet existence and an agreeable subject; Manner seizes with facile capacity upon an appearance; Style rests upon the deepest foundations of knowledge, upon the essence of things, so far as we are able to recognize it in visible and comprehensible forms.

      The elaboration of what we have advanced above would fill whole volumes; and much is said upon the subject

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