"The Story of Art" by E. H. Gombrich.

Summary

El texto aborda la percepción de lo que constituye el arte, desafiando la noción de un 'Arte' con mayúscula y enfatizando la importancia de los artistas y su creatividad a lo largo de la historia. Explora cómo la belleza y la expresión son subjetivas y cómo el arte no debe estar limitado por convenciones o prejuicios. El autor insta a los lectores a desarrollar su gusto y apreciar el arte con una mente abierta, evitando la superficialidad y la snobería, y a entender el arte como un viaje de descubrimiento continuo.

Takeaways

• 🎨 El arte no existe como una entidad fija, sino que es el resultado de los artistas a lo largo de la historia.
• 🖌️ Los artistas a lo largo del tiempo han utilizado diversos materiales y técnicas para expresar sus ideas y visiones.
• ❌ No existe un 'Arte' mayúsculo con un significado universal, ya que este concepto varía según el tiempo y el lugar.
• 🤔 No hay razones incorrectas para disfrutar una obra de arte; nuestras preferencias están influenciadas por recuerdos y experiencias personales.
• 🏞️ La belleza en un cuadro no radica necesariamente en la belleza del tema representado, sino en la forma en que el artista lo interpreta.
• 👶 La representación de sujetos atractivos puede ser un obstáculo para apreciar obras que tratan temas menos convencionales.
• 👵 La obra de Albrecht Dürer, con su estudio sincero de la vejez, demuestra que la belleza puede encontrarse en la sinceridad del arte, más allá de la representación de lo agradable.
• 🤝 La expresión de una figura en un cuadro es crucial para la conexión emocional del espectador con la obra.
• 🖼️ La habilidad del artista para representar la realidad no es siempre el factor determinante en la calidad de una obra; a veces, la simplicidad puede ser igualmente poderosa.
• 🐇 La percepción de lo 'correcto' en el dibujo puede ser desafiada por las convenciones y las innovaciones artísticas.
• 🌟 Los artistas buscan encontrar la 'armonía' en sus obras, un equilibrio visual que puede ser subjetivo y difícil de definir con palabras.

Q & A

¿Qué es lo que realmente no existe según el texto?

Según el texto, lo que realmente no existe es el concepto de 'Arte' con mayúscula, ya que no hay una entidad fija y universal que se pueda definir como tal, sino que son los artistas quienes crean y definen lo que consideramos arte.

¿Por qué podría ser perjudicial llamar 'arte' a actividades muy diversas?

Es perjudicial porque el término 'Arte' con mayúscula puede llevar a malentendidos y prejuicios, ya que puede sugerir una entidad estática y elevada que no existe, y esto puede limitar la apreciación de las obras según las convenciones establecidas.

¿Cuál es la importancia de las memorias y experiencias personales en la apreciación del arte según el texto?

Las memorias y experiencias personales son fundamentales en la apreciación del arte, ya que influyen en nuestros gustos y preferencias, y a menos que estas memorias nos causen una aversión injustificada, deben ser consideradas válidas para disfrutar de lo que vemos.

¿Por qué puede resultar problemático tener un gusto predilecto por lo 'bonito' en el arte?

Puede resultar problemático porque puede llevar a rechazar obras que representan temas menos atractivos, perdiendo la oportunidad de apreciar grandes obras de arte que, a pesar de su tema, poseen una gran sinceridad y valor artístico.

¿Cómo demuestra el texto que la belleza de una pintura no radica en la belleza de su tema?

El texto lo demuestra a través de ejemplos como el dibujo de la madre de Albrecht Dürer, que a pesar de representar la vejez y no ser 'bonita', es una obra de gran belleza y sinceridad.

¿Qué sugiere el texto sobre la variabilidad de los gustos y estándares de belleza?

El texto sugiere que los gustos y estándares de belleza varían mucho, y que lo que es considerado bello en una época o lugar puede no serlo en otro, subrayando la subjetividad de la belleza.

¿Por qué es importante no condenar una obra de arte por ser 'incorrectamente dibujada' sin estar seguro de que se está en lo correcto?

Es importante porque a menudo las distorsiones o cambios en la representación son intencionales por parte del artista para lograr un efecto o expresar algo específico, y la percepción de lo 'correcto' puede ser meramente una convención.

¿Cómo muestra el texto que los artistas a menudo no siguen reglas fijas al crear sus obras?

El texto lo muestra a través de ejemplos de artistas que rompen con las convenciones y crean nuevas armonías en sus obras, como Raphael en 'La Virgen del Prado', donde la armonía y balance son más importantes que seguir reglas estrictas.

¿Qué peligros advierte el texto en relacionar el conocimiento de la historia del arte con la apreciación de las obras?

El texto advierte que el conocimiento de la historia del arte puede llevar a la snobería y a una apreciación superficial, donde se valora más el reconocer el estilo o técnica que la verdadera contemplación y享受 de la obra.

¿Qué consejo final ofrece el texto para la apreciación del arte?

El texto aconseja mantener una mente abierta y libre de prejuicios y frases hechas para poder apreciar plenamente las obras de arte, y enfatiza en la importancia de la curiosidad y la exploración personal más allá del conocimiento académico.

Outlines

00:00

🎨 La naturaleza subjetiva del Arte

Este párrafo explora la idea de que el Arte, con mayúsculas, no existe como una entidad fija, sino que es el resultado de los artistas a lo largo de la historia. Se argumenta que las actividades artísticas varían ampliamente y que lo que consideramos arte es muy dependiente del contexto temporal y cultural. Se desaconseja el uso del término 'arte' de manera elitista para juzgar la valía de una obra, y se enfatiza en la subjetividad legítima de los motivos por los cuales alguien puede apreciar una obra artística, incluyendo recordatorios personales y la belleza natural preservada en las obras.

05:00

🤔 La subjetividad en la apreciación del Arte

Este párrafo profundiza en la discusión sobre la subjetividad en la apreciación del arte, señalando que no hay razones incorrectas para amar una escultura o una pintura. Aborda la tendencia natural de preferir lo hermoso y agradable en el arte, pero advierte que esto puede ser un obstáculo al rechazar obras que representan temas menos atractivos. Se menciona la importancia de superar la repulsión inicial para apreciar la sinceridad y el poder de obras como el dibujo de la madre de Dürer. Además, se desafía la noción de que la belleza de una pintura radica en la belleza de su tema, y se sugiere que la expresión de una figura en una pintura puede ser un factor clave en la percepción del arte.

10:01

👀 La importancia de la expresión en el Arte

El tercer párrafo se centra en la expresión en el arte, argumentando que la comprensión de la expresión en una obra puede ser crucial para la apreciación del arte. Se hace una distinción entre obras que tienen una expresión intensa y aquellas cuyo significado es menos evidente. Se sugiere que, al igual que en las personas, algunas obras de arte pueden preferirse por su capacidad para sugerir y dejar espacio para la interpretación. Se discute la habilidad del artista para transmitir emociones y cómo, en períodos más primitivos, los esfuerzos de los artistas por expresar sentimientos pueden ser particularmente conmovedores. Se menciona la importancia de apreciar la habilidad artística más allá de la representación fotográfica y se desafía la percepción de que las obras modernas deben ser 'correctas' en términos de dibujo.

15:02

🐎 La representación y la percepción en el Arte

Este párrafo explora la relación entre la representación en el arte y la percepción pública, destacando cómo las convenciones artísticas pueden influir en lo que consideramos 'correcto' o 'natural'. Se utiliza el ejemplo de las representaciones de caballos galopando y cómo la fotografía reveló que las convenciones artísticas eran incorrectas. Se argumenta que los artistas a menudo buscan desafiar las nociones preconcebidas y ver el mundo de manera fresca, lo que a menudo lleva a la creación de obras que desafían las expectativas convencionales. Se sugiere que la habilidad de los artistas para ver y representar de manera nueva puede ser una fuente de aprendizaje y apreciación en el arte.

20:02

🖼️ La creación artística y la percepción del público

El quinto párrafo aborda la creación artística como un proceso humano y la reacción del público a las obras de arte. Se destaca la importancia de entender que las obras de arte son creaciones intencionales de artistas que buscan transmitir una idea o una emoción, y no simplemente objetos estéticos. Se menciona la historia de Caravaggio y su retrato controversial de San Mateo, que ilustra cómo las obras de arte pueden ser malinterpretadas debido a las expectativas y prejuicios del público. Se enfatiza la importancia de la honestidad y la sinceridad en el arte y cómo estas cualidades pueden ser perdidas cuando los artistas se ven obligados a adherirse a convenciones establecidas.

25:04

🌟 El desarrollo del gusto y la apreciación del Arte

El sexto párrafo enfatiza la importancia del desarrollo del gusto y la apreciación del arte, sugiriendo que, al igual que en otros aspectos de la vida, el conocimiento y la experiencia pueden enriquecer nuestra capacidad para apreciar el arte. Se argumenta que, a pesar de la idea de que no se puede discutir el gusto, el arte es algo serio y merece una comprensión profunda. Se desafía la idea de que el conocimiento superficial puede llevar a una apreciación snob y se enfatiza la importancia de mantener una mente abierta y dispuesta a explorar y aprender de las obras de arte, en lugar de limitarse a la repetición de términos y conceptos previamente aprendidos.

Keywords

💡Arte

El arte, según el guion, no es una entidad fija, sino una manifestación de los artistas a lo largo de la historia. Se relaciona con el tema del video al desafiar la noción convencional de 'Arte mayúscula' y enfatizar la importancia de los artistas y sus obras en contextos específicos. En el guion, se menciona que 'no hay tal cosa como el Arte, solo artistas', lo que subraya la idea de que el arte es una creación humana que varía con el tiempo y el lugar.

💡Artistas

Los artistas son los creadores de obras de arte, y el guion destaca la diversidad y el cambio en su trabajo a lo largo de la historia. Se vincula con el mensaje central del video al enfatizar que el arte es el resultado de la creatividad y la expresión individual de los artistas, más que una entidad estática. Un ejemplo del guion es la comparación entre los pintores de cavernas y los diseñadores de carteles modernos, mostrando la evolución del papel del artista.

💡Estilo

El estilo es la forma única y personal que un artista utiliza para crear sus obras. En el guion, se discute cómo los gustos y estándares de belleza varían mucho, y cómo los artistas a lo largo de la historia han buscado expresar sus visiones de maneras diferentes. Se menciona que el arte no está limitado a lo 'realista', sino que abarca una amplia gama de estilos y técnicas, como se ve en la mención de obras de Rubens y Dürer.

💡Expresión

La expresión en el arte se refiere a cómo los artistas comunican emociones y conceptos a través de sus obras. El guion destaca la importancia de la expresión en la pintura, y cómo diferentes artistas han logrado expresar sus sentimientos de maneras únicas. Por ejemplo, se menciona la diferencia entre la expresión clara y fuerte en una obra de Guido Reni y la expresión más sutil y menos obvia en una obra de un pintor del Medioevo.

💡Harmonia

La armonía en el arte se refiere a la sensación de equilibrio y unidad en una obra, donde las formas, colores y elementos compositivos se combinan de manera agradable. El guion habla sobre cómo los artistas, como Raphael, buscan alcanzar la 'harmonia' en sus obras, y cómo esto puede ser un proceso de búsqueda y experimentación. La armonía es crucial para la percepción de una obra como un todo coherente y estético.

💡Dibujo

El dibujo es la habilidad de representar formas y objetos de manera precisa en el arte. Aunque el guion reconoce la admiración que merece la habilidad para dibujar con precisión, también cuestiona la idea de que un dibujo 'correcto' es siempre superior, y cómo las distorsiones intencionales pueden ser una herramienta artística válida, como en el caso de Picasso y su dibujo de un gallo.

💡Prejuicios

Los prejuicios son las opiniones o creencias preestablecidas que pueden influir en nuestra percepción y apreciación del arte. El guion aborda cómo los prejuicios, como la expectativa de que el cielo debe ser azul o que un dibujo debe ser realista, pueden limitar nuestra capacidad para apreciar la diversidad y la creatividad en el arte. Se insta a los espectadores a superar estos prejuicios para disfrutar plenamente del arte.

💡Conocimiento

El conocimiento en el contexto del arte se refiere a la comprensión y la educación en la historia y la teoría del arte. El guion advierte sobre los peligros de un conocimiento superficial que puede llevar a la snobería y a una apreciación limitada del arte. Se enfatiza la importancia de un conocimiento profundo y una mente abierta para apreciar plenamente el arte, más allá de los términos y las etiquetas.

💡Apreciación

La apreciación del arte implica una capacidad desarrollada para entender y disfrutar de las obras de arte por su propia valor estético y emocional. El guion sugiere que, aunque el arte es algo personal y subjetivo, la apreciación puede ser cultivada a través de la experiencia y el aprendizaje. Se destaca que la apreciación auténtica del arte va más allá de la simple admiración o el conocimiento intelectual.

💡Snobería

La snobería en el arte se refiere a una actitud despectiva o elitista hacia el arte que se basa en el conocimiento superficial o en la pretensión de tener un gusto superior. El guion advierte contra la snobería como un obstáculo para una verdadera y genuina apreciación del arte, y cómo puede resultar en una pérdida de la capacidad de disfrutar de las obras de arte que son accesibles y emotivas.

Highlights

艺术的本质不在于艺术作品本身，而在于艺术家的创作过程和意图。

艺术的定义随时间和地点的不同而变化，大写的'Art'并不存在。

欣赏艺术作品没有错误的理由，个人的情感和记忆是合理的。

艺术作品的美不在于其主题的美，而在于艺术家如何表现。

艺术表达的清晰度因人而异，有些作品的情感表达更为隐晦。

艺术家的技巧在于捕捉和再现现实世界，但这不是艺术的唯一考量。

现代艺术家有时会故意扭曲现实，以传达特定的情感或信息。

艺术作品的接受度受到观众习惯和预期的影响。

艺术家在创作时会做出许多决策，这些决策共同构成了作品的最终形态。

艺术家追求的是一种和谐，这种和谐超越了简单的美或表达。

艺术作品的价值在于它们能够激发观众的感知和情感。

艺术欣赏是一个不断发展的过程，每次观看都可能发现新的细节。

艺术史的知识可以帮助我们理解艺术家的创作背景和意图。

艺术欣赏需要开放的心态，避免受到先入为主的观念和偏见的影响。

艺术作品应该以其自身的形式被欣赏，而不是仅仅作为学术讨论的对象。

Transcripts

There really is no such thing as Art.

There are only artists.

Once these were men who took coloured earth and roughed out the forms of a bison on the

wall of a cave; today some buy their paints and design posters for the hoardings; they

did and do many other things.

There is no harm in calling all these activities art as long as we keep in mind that such a

word may mean very different things in different times and places, and as long as we realize

that Art with a capital A has no existence.

For Art with a capital A has come to be something of a bogey and a fetish.

You may crush an artist by telling him that what he has just done may be quite good in

its own way, only it is not Art.

And you may confound anyone enjoying a picture by declaring that what he liked in it was

not the art but something different.

Actually, I do not think that there are any wrong reasons for liking a statue or a picture.

Someone may like a landscape painting because it reminds him of home or a portrait because

it reminds him of a friend.

There is nothing wrong with that.

All of us, when we see a painting, are bound to be reminded of a hundred-and-one things

which influence our likes and dislikes.

As long as this memories help us to enjoy what we see, we need not worry.

It is only when some irrelevant memory makes us prejudiced, when we instinctively turn

away from a magnificent picture of an alpine scene because we dislike climbing, that we

should search our mind for the reason of the aversion which spoils a pleasure we might

otherwise have had.

There are wrong reason for dislike a work of art.

Most people like to see in pictures what they would also like to see in reality.

This is quite a natural preference.

We all like beauty in nature.

And are grateful to the artists who have preserved it in their works.

Nor would these artists themselves have rebuffed us for our taste.

When the great Flemish painter Rubens made a drawing of his little boy he was surely

proud of his good looks.

He wanted us, too, to admire the child.

But this bias for the pretty and engaging subject is apt to become a stumbling-block

if it leads us to rejects works which represent a less appealing subject.

The great German painter Albrecht Dürer certainly drew his mother with as much devotion and

love as Rubens felt for his chubby child.

His truthful study of careworn old age may give us a shock which makes us turn away from

it –and yet, if we fight against our first repugnance we may be richly rewarded, for

Dürer’s drawing in its tremendous sincerity is a great work.

In fact, we shall soon discover that the beauty of a picture does not really lie in the beauty

of its subject-matter.

I do not know whether the little ragamuffins whom the Spanish painter Murillo liked to

paint were strictly beautiful or not, but, as he painted them, they certainly have great

charm.

On the other hand, most people would call the child in Pieter de Hooch’s wonderful

Dutch interior plain, but it is an attractive picture all the same.

The trouble about beauty is that tastes and standards of what is beauty vary so much.

These figures were both painted in the fifteenth century, and both represent angels playing

the lute.

Many will prefer the Italian work by Melozzo da Forli, with its appealing grace and charm,

to that of his northern contemporary Hans Memling.

I myself like both.

It may take a little longer to discover the intrinsic beauty of Menling’s angel, but

once we are no longer to disturbed by his faint awkwardness we may find him infinitely

lovable.

What is true of beauty is also true of expression.

In fact, it is often the expression of a figure in the painting which makes us like or loathe

the work.

Some people like an expression which they can easily understand, and which therefore

moves them profoundly.

When the Italian seventeenth-century painter Guido Reni painted the head of Christ on the

cross (Fig. 7), he intended, no doubt, that the beholder should find in this face all

the agony and all the glory of the Passion.

Many people throughout subsequent centuries have drawn strength and comfort from such

a representation of the Saviour.

The feeling it expresses is so strong and so clear that copies of this work can be found

in simple wayside shrines and remote farmhouses where people know nothing about 'Art'.

But even if this intense expression of feeling appeals to us we should not, for that reason,

turn away from works whose expression is perhaps less easy to understand.

The Italian painter of the Middle Ages who painted the crucifix (Fig. 8) surely felt

as sincerely about the Passion as did Reni, but we must first learn to know his methods

of drawing to understand his feelings.

When we have come to understand these different languages, we may even prefer works of art

whose expression is less obvious than Reni's.

Just as some prefer people who use few words and gestures and leave something to be guessed,

so some people are fond of paintings or sculptures which leave them something to guess and ponder

about.

In the more 'primitive' periods, when artists were not as skilled in representing human

faces and human gestures as they are now, it is often all the more moving to see how

they tried nevertheless to bring out the feeling they wanted to convey.

But here newcomers to art are often brought up against another difficulty.

They want to admire the artist's skill in representing the things they see.

What they like best are paintings which look 'like real'.

I do not deny for a moment that this is an important consideration.

The patience and skill which go into the faithful rendering of the visible world are indeed

to be admired.

Great artists of the past have devoted much labour to works in which every tiny detail

is carefully recorded.

Dürer's watercolour study of a hare (Fig. 9) is one of the most famous examples of this

loving patience.

But who would say that Rembrandt's drawing of an elephant (Fig. 10) is necessarily less

good because it shows fewer details?

Indeed Rembrandt was such a wizard that he gave us the feel of the elephant's wrinkly

skin with a few lines of his chalk.

But it is not sketchiness that mainly offends people who like their pictures to look 'real'.

They are even more repelled by works which they consider to be incorrectly drawn, particularly

when they belong to a more modern period when the artist 'ought to have known better'.

As a matter of fact, there is no mystery about these distortions of nature about which we

still hear complaints in discussions on modern art.

Everyone who has ever seen a Disney film or a comic strip knows all about it.

He knows that it is sometimes right to draw things otherwise than they look, to change

and distort them in one way or another.

Mickey Mouse does not look very much like a real mouse, yet people do not write indignant

letters to the papers about the length of his tail.

Those who enter Disney's enchanted world are not worried about Art with a capital A. They

do not go to his shows armed with the same prejudices they like to take with them when

going to an exhibition of modern painting.

But if a modern artist draws something in his own way, he is apt to be thought a bungler

who can do no better.

Now, whatever we may think of modern artists, we may safely credit them with enough knowledge

to draw 'correctly'.

If they do not do so their reasons may be very similar to those of Walt Disney.

Fig. 11 shows a plate from an illustrated Natural History by the famous pioneer of the

modern movement, Picasso.

Surely no one could find fault with his charming representation of a mother hen and her fluffy

chickens.

But in drawing a cockerel (Fig. 12), Picasso was not content with giving a mere rendering

of the bird's appearance.

He wanted to bring out its aggressiveness, its cheek and its stupidity.

In other words he resorted to caricature.

But what a convincing caricature it is!

There are two things, therefore, which we should always ask ourselves if we find fault

with the accuracy of a picture.

One is whether the artist may not have had his reasons for changing the appearance of

what he saw.

We shall hear more about such reasons as the story of art unfolds.

The other is that we should never condemn a work for being incorrectly drawn unless

we have made quite sure that we are right and the painter is wrong.

We are all inclined to be quick with the verdict that 'things do not look like that'.

We have a curious habit of thinking that nature must always look like the pictures we are

accustomed to.

It is easy to illustrate this by an astonishing discovery which was made not very long ago.

Generations have watched horses gallop, have attended horse-races and hunts, have enjoyed

paintings and sporting prints showing horses charging into battle or running after hounds.

Not one of these people seems to have noticed what it 'really looks like' when a horse runs.

Pictures and sporting prints usually showed them with outstretched legs in full flight

through the air-as the great French nineteenth-century painter Gericault painted them in a famous

representation of the races at Epsom (Fig. 13).

About fifty years later, when the photographic camera had been sufficiently perfected for

snapshots of horses in rapid motion to be taken, these snapshots proved that both the

painters and their public had been wrong all the while.

No galloping horse ever moved in the way which seems so 'natural' to us.

As the legs come off the ground they are moved in turn for the next kick-off (Fig. 14).

If we reflect for a moment we shall realize that it could hardly get along otherwise.

And yet, when painters began to apply this new discovery, and painted horses moving as

they actually do, everyone complained that their pictures looked wrong.

This, no doubt, is an extreme example, but similar errors are by no means as rare as

one might think.

We are all inclined to accept conventional forms or colours as the only correct ones.

Children sometimes think that stars must be star-shaped, though naturally they are not.

The people who insist that in a picture the sky must be blue, and the grass green, are

not very different from these children.

They get indignant if they see other colours in a picture, but if we try to forget all

we have heard about green grass and blue skies, and look at the world as if we had just arrived

from another planet on a voyage of discovery and were seeing it for the first time, we

may find that things are apt to have the most surprising colours.

Now painters sometimes feel as if they were on such a voyage of discovery.

They want to see the world afresh, and to discard all the accepted notions and prejudices

about flesh being pink and apples yellow or red.

It is not easy to get rid of these preconceived ideas, but the artists who succeed best in

doing so often produce the most exciting works.

It is they who teach us to see in nature new beauties of whose existence we have never

dreamt.

If we follow them and learn from them, even a glance out of our own window may become

a thrilling adventure.

There is no greater obstacle to the enjoyment of great works of art than our unwillingness

to discard habits and prejudices.

A painting which represents a familiar subject in an unexpected way is often condemned for

no better reason than that it does not seem right.

The more often we have seen a story represented in art, the more firmly do we become convinced

that it must always be represented on similar lines.

About biblical subjects, in particular, feelings are apt to run high.

Though we all know that the Scriptures tell us nothing about the appearance of Jesus and

that God Himself cannot be visualized in human form, and though we know that it was the artists

of the past who first created the image we have become used to, some are still inclined

to think that to depart from these traditional forms amounts to blasphemy.

As a matter of fact, it was usually those artists who read the Scriptures with the greatest

devotion and attention who tried to build up in their minds an entirely fresh picture

of the incidents of the sacred story.

They tried to forget all the paintings they had seen, and to imagine what it must have

been like when the Christ Child lay in the manger and the shepherds came to adore Him,

or when a fisherman began to preach the gospel.

It has happened time and again that such efforts of a great artist to read the old text with

entirely fresh eyes have shocked and outraged thoughtless people.

A typical "scandal" of this kind flared up round Caravaggio, a very bold and revolutionary

Italian artist who worked round 1600.

He was given the task of painting a picture of St Matthew for the altar of a church in

Rome.

The saint was to be represented writing the Gospel, and, to show that the gospels are

the word of God, an angel was to be represented inspiring his writings.

Caravaggio, who was a very imaginative and uncompromising young artist, thought hard

about what it must have been like when the elderly, poor, working man, a simple publican,

suddenly had to sit down to write a book.

And so he painted a picture of St Matthew with a bald head and bare, dusty feet, awkwardly

gripping the huge volume, anxiously wrinkling his brow under the unaccustomed strain of

writing.

By his side he painted a youthful angel, who seems to have arrived from on high, and who

gently guides the laborer's hand as a teacher may do to a child.

When Caravaggio delivered this picture to the church where it was to be placed on the

altar, people were scandalized at what they took to be lack of respect for the saint.

The painting was not accepted, and Caravaggio had to try again.

This time he took no chance.

He kept strictly to the conventional ideas of what an angel and a saint should look like.

The outcome is still quite a good picture, for Caravaggio had tried hard to make it look

lively and interesting, but we feel that it is less honest and sincere than the first

had been.

This story illustrates the harm that may be done by those who dislike and criticize works

of art for the wrong reasons.

What is more important, it brings home to us that what we call "works of art" are not

the results of some mysterious activity, but objects made by human beings for human beings.

A picture looks so remote when it hangs glassed and framed on the wall And in our museums

it is-very properly-forbidden to touch the objects on view.

But originally they were made to be touched and handled, they were bargained about, quarrelled

about, worried about.

Let us also remember that every one of their features is the result of a decision by the

artist: that he may have pondered over them and changed them many times, that he may have

wondered whether to leave that tree in the background or to paint it over again, that

he may have been pleased by a lucky stroke of his brush which gave a sudden unexpected

brilliance to a sunlit cloud, and that he put in these figures reluctantly at the insistence

of a buyer.

For most of the paintings and statues which are now strung up along the walls of our museums

and galleries were not meant to be displayed as Art.

They were made for a definite occasion and a definite purpose which were in the artist’s

mind when he set to work.

Those ideas, on the other hand, that we outsiders usually worry about, ideas about beauty and

expression, are rarely mentioned by artists.

It was not always like that, but it was for many centuries in the past, and it is so again

now.

The reason is partly that artists are often shy people who would think it embarrassing

to use big words like “beauty”.

They would feel rather priggish if they were to speak about “expressing their emotions”

and to use similar catchwords.

Such things they take for granted and find it useless to discuss.

That is one reason, and, it seems, a good one.

But there is another.

In the actual everyday worries of the artist these ideas play a much smaller part that

outsiders would, I think, suspect.

What an artist worries about has he plans his picture, makes his sketches, or wonders

whether he has completed his canvas, is something much more difficult to put into words.

Perhaps he would say he worries about whether he has got it “right”.

Now it is only when we understand what he means by that modest little word “right”

that we begin to understand what artists are really after.

I think we can only hope to understand this if we draw on our own experience.

Of course we are not artists, we may never have tried to paint a picture and may have

no intention of ever doing so.

But this need not mean that we are never confronted with problems similar to those which make

up the artist’s life.

In fact, I am anxious to prove that there is hardly any person that who has not at least

got an inkling of this type of problem, be it in ever so modest a way.

Anybody who has ever tried to arrange a bunch of flowers, to shuffle and shift the colours,

to add a little here and take away there, has experienced this strange sensation of

balancing forms and colours without being able to tell exactly what kind of harmony

it is he is trying to achieve.

We just feel a patch of red here may make all the difference, or this blue is all right

by itself but it does not “go” with the others, and suddenly a little stem of green

leaves may seem to make it come “right”.

“Don’t touch it any more”, we exclaim, “now it is perfect”.

Not everybody, I admit, is quite so careful over the arrangement of flowers, but nearly

everybody has something he wants to get “right”.

It may just be a matter of finding the right belt which matches a certain dress or nothing

more impressive than the worry over the right proportion of, say, pudding and cream on one’s

plate.

In every such case, however trivial, we may feel that a shade too much or too little upsets

the balance and that there is only one relationship which is as it should be.

People who worry like this over flowers, dresses or food, we may call fussy, because we may

feel these things do not warrant so much attention.

But what may sometimes be a bad habit in daily life and is often, therefore, suppressed or

concealed, come into its own in the realm of art.

When it is a matter of matching forms or arranging colours an artist must always be “fussy”

or rather fastidious to the extreme.

He may see differences in shades and texture which we hardly notice.

Moreover, his task is infinitely more complex than any of those we may experience in ordinary

life.

He has not only to balance two or three colours, shapes or tastes, but to juggle with any number.

He has, on his canvas, perhaps hundreds of shades and forms which he must balance till

they look “right”.

A patch of green may suddenly look too yellow because it was brought into too close proximity

with a strong blue –he may feel that all is spoiled, that there is a jarring note in

the picture and that he must begin it all over again.

He may suffer agonies over this problem.

He may ponder about it in sleepless nights; he may stand in front of his picture all day

trying to add a touch of colour here or there and rubbing it out again, thought you and

I might not have noticed the difference either way.

But once he has succeeded, we all feel that he has achieved something to which nothing

could be added, something which is “right” –an example of perfection in our very imperfect

world.

Take one of Raphael’s famous Madonnas: “The Virgin in the Meadow”, for instance.

It is beautiful, no doubt, and engaging; the figures are admirably drawn, and the expression

of the Holy Virgin as she looks down on the two children is quite unforgettable.

But if we look at the Raphael’s sketches for the picture, we begin to realize that

these were not the things he took most trouble about.

These he took for granted.

What he tried again and again to get was the right balance between the figures, the right

relationship which would make the most harmonious whole.

In the rapid sketch in the left-hand corner, he thought of letting the Christ-child walk

away looking back and up at His mother.

And he tried different positions of the mother’s head to answer the movement of the Child.

Then he decided to turn the Child round and to let Him look up at her.

He tried another way, this time introducing the little Saint John –but, instead of letting

the Christ-child look at him, made him turn out of the picture.

Then he made another attempt, and apparently became impatient, trying the head of the Child

in many different positions.

There were several leaves of this kind in his sketchbook, in which he searched again

and again how best to balance these three figures.

But if we now look back at the final picture we see that he did get it right in the end.

Everything in the picture seems in his proper place, and the pose and harmony which Raphael

has achieved by his hard work seems so natural and effortless that we hardly notice it.

Yet it is just this harmony which makes the beauty of the Madonna more beautiful and the

sweetness of the children more sweet.

It is fascinating to watch an artist thus striving to achieve the right balance, but

if we were to ask him why he did this or changed that, he might not be able to tell us.

He does not follow any fixed rules.

He just feels his way.

It is true that some artists or critics in certain periods have tried to formulate laws

of their art; but it always turned out that poor artists did not achieve anything when

trying to apply these laws, while great masters could break them and yet achieve a new kind

of harmony no one had thought of before.

When the great English painter Sir Joshua Reynolds explained to his students in the

Royal Academy that blue should not be put into the foreground of paintings but should

be reserved for the distant backgrounds, for the fading hills on the horizon, his rival

Gainsborough –so the story goes- wanted to prove that such academic rules are usually

nonsense.

He painted the famous “Blue Boy”, whose blue costume, in the central foreground of

the picture, stands out triumphantly against the warm brown of the background.

The true is that it is impossible to lay down rules of this kind because one can never know

in advance what effect the artist may wish to achieve.

He may even want a shrill, jarring note if he happens to feel that that would be right.

As there are no rules to tell us when a picture or statue is right it is usually impossible

to explain in words exactly why we feel that it is a great work of art.

But that does not mean that one work is just as good as any other, or that one cannot discuss

matters of taste.

If they do nothing else, such discussion make us look at pictures, and the more we look

at them the more we notice points which have scape us before.

We begin to develop a feeling for the kind of harmony each generation of artists tried

to achieve.

The greater our feeling for these harmonies the more we shall enjoy them, and that, after

all, is what matters.

The old proverb that you cannot argue about matters of taste may well be true, but that

should be not conceal the fact that taste can be developed.

This is again a matter of common experience which everybody can test in a modest field.

To people who are not used to drinking tea one blend may taste exactly like the other.

But if they have the leisure, will and opportunity to search out such refinements as there may

be, they may develop into true “connoisseures” who can distinguish exactly what type and

mixture they prefer, and their greater knowledge is bound to add to their enjoyment of the

choicest blends.

Admittedly, taste in art is something infinitely more complex than taste on food and drink.

It is not only a matter of discovering various subtle flavours; it is something more serious

and more important.

After all, the great masters have given their all in these works, they have suffered for

them, sweated blood over them, and the least they have a right to ask of us that we to

understand what they wanted to do.

One never finished learned about Art.

There are always new things to discover.

Great works of art seem to look different every time one stands before them.

They seem to be as inexhaustible and unpredictable as real human beings.

It is an exciting world of its own strange laws and its own adventures.

Nobody should think he knows all about it, for nobody does.

Nothing, perhaps, is more important than just this: that to enjoy these works we must have

a fresh mind, one which is ready to catch every hint and to respond to every hidden

harmony: a mind, most of all, not cluttered up with long high-sounding words and ready-made

phrases.

It is infinitely better not to know anything about art than to have the kind of half-knowledge

which makes for snobbishness.

The danger is very real.

There are people, for instance, who have picked up the simple points I have tried to make

in this chapter, and who understand that there are great works of art which have none of

the obvious qualities of beauty of expression or correct draughtsmanship, but who become

so proud of their knowledge that they pretend to like only those works which are neither

beautiful nor correctly drawn.

They are always haunted by the fear that the might be considered uneducated if they confessed

to liking a work which seems too obviously pleasant or moving.

They end by being snobs who lose their true enjoyment of art and who call everything “very

interesting” which they really find somewhat repulsive.

I should hate to be responsible for any similar misunderstanding.

I would rather not be believed at all than be believed in such an uncritical way.

In the chapters which follow I shall discuss the history of art, that is the history of

building, of picture-making and of statue-making.

I think that knowing something of this history helps us to understand why artists worked

in a particular way, or why they aimed a certain effects.

Most of all it is a good way of sharpening our eyes for the particular characteristics

of works of art, and of thereby increasing our sensitivity to the finer shades of difference.

Perhaps it is the only way of learning to enjoy them in their own right.

But no way is without its dangers.

One sometimes sees people walking through a gallery, catalogue in hand.

Every time they stop in front of a picture they eagerly search for its number.

We can watch them thumbing their books, and as soon as they found the tittle or the name

they walk on.

They might just as well have stayed at home, for they have hardly looked at the painting.

They have only checked the catalogue.

It is a kind of mental short circuit which has nothing to do with enjoying a picture.

People who have acquired some knowledge of art history are sometimes in danger of falling

into a similar trap.

When they see a work of art they do not stay to look at it, but rather search their memory

for the appropriated label.

They may have heard that Rembrandt was famous for his “chiaroscuro” -which is the Italian

technical term for light and shade- so they nod wisely when they see a Rembrandt, mumble

“wonderful chiaroscuro”, and wander on to the next picture.

I want to be quite frank about this danger of half-knowledge and snobbery, for we are

all apt to succumb to such temptations, and a book like this could increase them.

I should like to help to open eyes, not to loosen tongues.

To talk cleverly about art is not very difficult, because the words critics use have been employed

in so many different contexts that they have lost all precision.

But to look at a picture with fresh eyes and to venture on a voyage of discovery into it

is a far more difficult but also a much more rewarding task.

There is no telling what one might bring home from such a journey.