How to Study Architecture, Charles H. Caffin [best manga ereader .TXT] 📗

the power of Athens incited the envy of the other states, which ranged themselves with Sparta. In the Peloponnesian wars, the supremacy of Athens was broken and the Athenian Empire was succeeded by a Spartan Empire, which in time succumbed to the Theban Hegemony. Finally Hellas was conquered by Philip of Macedon and passed into the Macedonian Empire, established by this king and enlarged by his son, Alexander the Great.

Through all these struggles Athens, though despoiled of her supremacy, played a big part until she was conquered by Philip at Chæronæa, in 338 B.C. The latter date is adopted as the end of the Great Age which had lasted since 480 B.C., including within its circumference the age of Pericles. Besides its triumphant achievements in architecture and sculpture, the Great Age comprised in drama the names of Æschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, and Aristophanes; in history, Herodotus, Thucydides; in oratory, Demosthenes; in philosophy, Aristotle and Plato. Meanwhile, the century preceding it had produced, among the poets, Anacreon and Sappho; and, as representatives of mathematics, astronomy, geography, and metaphysics, Thales, Pythagoras, Xenophanes, Heraclitus, Parmenides, Anaximander, and Hecatæus of Miletus.

It is significant that none of these last named poets and thinkers belonged to the mainland of Hellas, but to the islands and cities of the Ionian group or to the adjacent Cyclades. And what is true of literature is equally true of architecture and sculpture. In fact during the fifth century B.C. and also the three preceding centuries, culture had been more developed in Ionia than in Attica. For, through its commerce with the East, Ionia reached a high state of prosperity and borrowed something of Eastern luxuriousness as well as Eastern thought and art ideals, just as in turn the East borrowed from it. Miletus was for a long time the wealthiest and most luxurious of Hellenic cities, rivalled only by Sybaris on the gulf of Tarentum; one of the flourishing cities of the so-called Magna Græcia in the south of Italy.

Similarly Corinth under the rule of her tyrants, Cypselus and his son Periander (657-581 B.C.), had enjoyed a period of great prosperity. She extended her trade from Asia Minor and Egypt to Magna Græcia in the west, and was also a great industrial centre, famous for its pottery, metal work, and other decorative crafts. Moreover, it was reported to have “invented” painting.

These brief references serve to emphasise two points: first, the wide spread of Hellenic culture; and, secondly, the variety that it exhibited. The most cherished sentiment in Hellas, as we have remarked, was that of autonomy. Even under the hegemonies and empires, individual cities and colonies were permitted self-government and, as its corollary, self-development. Hence the variety in unity that characterised Hellenic culture. The unity was strengthened and the variety diffused throughout the whole by the Festival-contests which were held at regular intervals. These originated in local religious festivals, which in time were thrown open to competitors from all parts of Hellas.

The oldest and the greatest was the Olympic Festival, held in the valley of the river Alphæus in Elis, which was celebrated at intervals of four years. The event became so important in the life of Hellas that the interval of four years between one celebration and the succeeding one, called an Olympiad, became the measure for computing time, the first Olympiad being reckoned as 776 B.C. Originally the festival was held in honour of Hera, to whom a temple—the earliest as yet known in Hellas—was dedicated, 1000 B.C. Later the chief honour was paid to the Olympian Zeus. His temple, which in time contained the celebrated chryselephantine statue of the god by Pheidias, stood in a sacred grove, the Altis, which was adorned with statues of the successful athletes, made by the most famous sculptors. The sacred enclosure was surrounded by walls and colonnades, adjoining which, on one side, were the gymnasium, palæstra, and baths for the use of the athletes, whose training in the sacred precincts lasted for ten months, before they could compete in the stadium. The latter adjoined the Altis on the east side.

From all parts of Hellas, states and cities vied with one another in furnishing competitors and, as the date of the Festival approached, heralds proclaimed throughout the Hellenic world the “Truce of God” under which, for the time being, warlike operations were suspended and safe conduct was guaranteed to all visitors to Olympia.

The influence of Sparta had regulated the character of the contests of endurance: running, leaping, wrestling, boxing, to which in time was added chariot racing. But as the spirit of culture spread the Olympian and the other festivals included musical contests, while the poet declaimed his verses and the painter showed his work for the pleasure and profit of the assembled multitudes.

The Olympic festival, in fact, was the supreme realisation of the Hellenic ideal: perfection of physical development, joined to highest intellectual development and the finest development of the senses. It was an ideal that involved the possible perfection of the whole man, a harmony of body, senses, and intellect—the Hellenic ideal of Beauty.

Olympia, wrote Lysias, is “the fairest spot on earth,” and, surely, in the loveliness of its natural setting, in the embellishments which the architect and sculptor had added, in the glory of the youthful vigour of the competitors and the inspiration of poets and musicians, and, not least, in the joyous enthusiasm of the spectators was realised, as perhaps nowhere else at any time, the Beauty of Life; the idea, as Plato taught, that the Good is the Beautiful, the Beautiful the Good.

Such was the Hellenic ideal. And an ideal, need one add, is not an aim that is actually achieved but one beyond our capacity to achieve wholly, that yet gives continuous incentive to higher and nobler effort. This ideal of the possible perfection of man in all his parts is the highest to which man has ever aspired and the Hellenes of the Great Age came the nearest to achieving it. Hence their example has become to succeeding ages Classic.

Having this ideal, the Hellenes translated it as far as possible into visible form. No athlete could compete at Olympia unless his body and his character were free from blemish; no statue or temple must be erected except as the finest possible expression of organic perfection.

For the beauty involved in the Hellenic ideal is organic beauty. Everything about Olympia, as everything about a Hellenic Temple, must perform its function in the organic beauty of the whole.

Further, it is to be noted that in the pursuit of this ideal the Greeks did not rely upon the feeling of the senses, nor yet upon the judgment of the intellect; but upon a union of the two. They submitted the inspiration of the senses to processes of reason. In a word, they intellectualised their sensations. It is this which has made the expression of their ideal Classic.

It is not necessary for our present purpose to trace the ebb and flow of the influence of this ideal through the centuries. But we may observe that while the Romans despoiled Hellas of her works of art and imitated, as far as they could, the externals of her ideal of beauty, the Arabs, Moors, and Saracens in later years more intimately imbibed its spirit and gave their own expression to it. Italy, however, in the latter half of the fifteenth century and during the sixteenth, came nearer than any other nation to both the spirit and the form of Hellenic culture. For her scholars and artists were more inclined to emulate than to imitate the example of the Greeks and tried to incorporate the Hellenic ideal into their own lives.

On the other hand, the Classical revival which began toward the end of the eighteenth century and has continued intermittently to our own day, has for the most part made the mistake of imitating instead of emulating. Artists have tried to copy the form, without imbibing the spirit. But form so used is like the letter that killeth; without the spirit that giveth life.

Meanwhile, there are indications that the world to-day is going to approach nearer to the Hellenic ideal than ever before and in some respects to better it. For there was a flaw in the latter. It despised labour and denied workmen a share in government. Its democracy was merely an extended aristocracy and, since those privileged to share in it received payment while filling office, it has been said that “the majority of the Athenian citizens were salaried paupers.” On the other hand, the theory, at least, of modern society is the honourableness of labour, and one of the best recognised problems of to-day is the shaping of conditions in order that labour may in truth be honourable—a blessing and not a curse, enhancing the beauty of the worker’s life instead of starving it. In fact, the modern world in adopting anew the Hellenic ideal of the beauty of the whole life is going to carry it further, to include the whole life of the whole community.

Moreover, our hope in being able to revive the Hellenic ideal and even to carry it farther consists in the fact that the foundation of our progress, as of the Greek, has again become reason, and reason established on a wider and firmer basis, owing to the immense development of modern science. And, while science encompasses every field of human thought and activity, its tendency is more and more directed to promoting the health and happiness of life. It is aiming anew at the Hellenic ideal of physical, moral and mental perfection, not confined to a few, but embracing whole communities and peoples.

There was a further flaw in the Hellenic system. It relegated women to an inactive position in the public affairs of life. Women were excluded even as sight-seers from the Olympic Games. The Greek worshipped the physical in woman, but refused development of her intellectual faculties. Their ideal was, in fact, centred in a single sex; it could not breed and perpetuate itself. But to-day the idea is spreading that this is a woman’s as well as a man’s world, and that to approximate to the ideal of human perfection needs the full, free, and independent co-operation of the woman and the man.

In conclusion let us note how in one respect the Hellenic ideal still transcends our own. There was a logic in the Greek, to which we have hardly yet attained. It practically amounted to this that “a tree is known by its fruits.” If a thing is good physically, morally, and mentally, it must naturally manifest its goodness so that it can be appreciated by the senses. Beauty must be made visible and audible. The possibility of the ideal must be made familiar to all, in literature, song, dance, drama, and the arts of beautiful design.

To the Greeks æsthetics, the study of what is appreciated as beautiful by the senses, was not a separate department of life, as it is apt to be with us, but only another aspect of morality and religion. It was the natural and inevitable expression of the inward spirit of the ideal. How could a man’s life reach its highest possibility if it did not love and seek after beauty; how could a city be truly great unless it were manifestly beautiful?

One can hardly imagine a Hellen, who wished to retain any reputation for intelligence, asserting, as many people are satisfied and even seem proud to do in these days: “I don’t know anything about art, but I know what I like.” To this it is on record that an artist retorted, “And so does a cow.” Which would have been the sort of retort that a Hellen might have made to the speaker, whom he would at once determine was a person of low intelligence.

For Greek art, as we have already said, was not an expression solely