PURPOSESOF ART

Second Edition

PURPOSES OF ARTAn Introduction to the Historyand Appreciationof Art

ALBERT E. ELSEN

Indiana tJtuversity

HOLT, RINEHART AND WINSTON, INC.

Mew York Chicago San Francisco Toronto London

DEDICATIONS LIKE REVISIONS NEED ADDITIONS:

TO MATTHEW, NANCY, AND KATHERINE

Library oj Congress Catalogue Card jVumber: 6y -10266.

All rio/ils reserved. .A'o part of the contents of this booh mar

be reproduced without the written permission of the publishers,

/hit, Ruiehart and Winston, Inc., New Tork.

A Helvetica Press production: Printed in black-and-white gravure

by the Presses Centrales, Lausanne, Switzerland ;

color offset by Job. Enschede en ^onen, Haarlem, Holland,

printed by the Iniprimeric Atar, (ieneva, Switzerland.

bound by Mayer " Soutter. Renens, Switzerland.

91H23 75 987''54:!

2594851

PREFACE

The purpose of this book is to increase the reader's awareness, understanding, andtolerance ot art. 7 he appreciation of art presupposes these conditions of mind,

and they are best acliie\ed bv a familiaritx witli art's liistory. Art is not for every man,and this is not a book tliat tries to bring art to. the public by diluting its complexity or

by ignoring its mvsteries. The public that cares should be encouraged to come to artseriously and openly, and it is for such readers that Purposes of Art has been written.

The j)lan of Purposes of Art has been conceived as an alternati\e to the linear,chronological history of art, and also to the art appreciation book that dissects works

of art into "elements," thereby giving a piecemeal exposure to what was intended as

a unified expression of a complete ex|)erience. Consequenth, this book is not struc-turedaccording to a strict historical chronolog\, and in it art's history is presented as

a type ot mosaic composed ot Ijoth themes and chronological evolution. Each work

of art is treated as an integrated whole of meaning and form, set within the various

historical and topical contexts illustrati\e ot the book's essential premise: art's great

purpose has been to assist men ui masternti( their environments and liberating them-selves.

Thus, art takes its place along with science in the civilizing of humanity.

The various chajsters include many environments that overlap each other andinfluence men's artistic expression" the religious and spiritual, the political and eco-nomic,

the natural and man made, the intellectual and esthetic, and the social and

psychological. The working definition of art used for this book is that art is the skill-ful

and imaginati\e creation of oljjects which interpret human experience and pro-ducean esthetic response. As ego-gratification or extensions and metaphors of human

experience, painting, sculpture, and architecture can be sho-wn to have been effective

means of achieving harmony with the visible and invisible world.

Historians attempt to answer the questions of what, where, when, how, and why.

The whv, or purjjose of art, is here brought into special focus in the search for answers

to a question commonly posed by the public before works of art. While seeking a

representative and interesting sampling of world art with which to pursue this

question and its answers, the author has continued the book's imbalance, in its new

edition, between East and W'est. and among jjainting, sculpture, and architecture.

The final selection of works illustrated reflects the author's ideas about their appro-priateness

for an introductory book of this type as well as his competence to com-ment

on them. In a real sense, art history is the record of how individual historians

react to their subject.

V

The late critic and connoisseur, Bernard Berenson, reportedly was once askedwhether he had changed the views he expressed about a Renaissance artist in a bookwritten fiityyears earlier. Berenson answered that he had. When asked if he woiddinclude this change of attitude in a revision, he is said to have replied,"No! One doesnot tamper with a classic." This preface to the second edition of Purposes of Artshould reassure the reader of the author's more modest estimate of his book and his

willingness to modify its original,unclassical plan. A principal change has been inthe enlargement of chapters, which makes possible fuller commentary upon moreworks of art. I here has been an improvement in the number and quality of illustra-tions,

more than sixtyof wtiich are now in color. New chapters include those on theartist" his trainingand status throughout history"the architecture of secular author-ity,

the art of the nineteenth century, imaginative art, and abstraction.There is also a new

.sequence for certain parts of the book. The chapters onMichelangelo and Rembrandt are now preceded and followed by topicsrepresentativeof the artistic and intellectual milieu in which these artists work. The reader should

in this edition oljtain a more specificsense of the chronology of Western art from theMiddle Ages to the twentieth century. The art of our time is either partiallyorentirely the subject of the last seven chapters.

Today it appears harder than five years ago to interest students and the generalreader in art produced before 1900. This is partly the result of the greater familiaritywith modern art made ])ossibleby the mass media and countless exhibitions inmuseums and galleriesthroughout the country. While in this revision additions havebeen made to the material on modern art, still more have been made to the sections

on older art. The purpose of this and other changes is one the author hopes will

appeal to his readers. Mary Renault ex]"res.sedit in The Bull from the Sea: "It is themark of little men that they like what they know." The quality and productivecharacter of the research done by the author's colleagues in art history are constantreminders of that irritatingbut wonderful discontent that advances knowledge andmakes imperative the rewriting of what has been written.

ACKNOWLEDQMENTS

The bibliography at the end ol the book suggests the many historians to whomI am indebted for ideas and information. Not always thus acknowledged but deserv-ing

of gratitude are the teachers at Columbia University under whom 1 studied manyyears ago" among them Professors Meyer Schajsiro,William Bell Dinsmoor, JuliusHeld, Emerson Swift, Millard Meiss, and Howard Davis. My present colleaguesHenry R. Hope, Roy Sieber, Bertrand Davezac, Diether Thimme, and John Jacobushave been generous in helping me reduce errors of fact and in su[j])lyingsouices ofinformation. For reviews and criticisms of the originaledition and this revision 1 wantto thank Alfred Moir and Corlette Walker of the art faculty at the University ofCalifornia, Santa Barbara. Year in and year out the development of Purposes of Arthas received considerable impetus from the many good art historygraduate studentsat Indiana University who have taught from it. ,'\mong those whose contributionsI am able to recall are Peggy Gilfoy,Mazelle Kirkpatrick, Jan and Gerald C. Maddox,Ellen Bauer, Millard Hearn, David Rogers, Wilma Stern, now teaching at Pennsyl-vania

State University, Bradley Nickels, now on the facidty of Lawrence University,and George Bauer of Northwestern's French Department. This revised edition wasmidwifed by former research assistants Arthur Ste\ens of Scripps College and HarryGaugh, now at Skidmore College.Their good humor matched their research abilities,and the revision has been all the more enjoyable to write because of them.

London, England Albert E. ElsenMarch, 1967

VI

CONTENTS

PREFACE V

1 INTRODUCTION: THE ARTISTS PAST

TRAININQ AND STATUS 3

2 ART AS A MATTER OF LIFE AND

DEATH 18

3IMAQES OF QODS 39

4 RELIQIOUS ARCHITECTURE 62

5 THE SACRED BOOK 87

6THE SYNTHESIS OF HEAVEN AND

EARTH IN FIFTEENTH-CENTURY

FLEMISH ART 105

7 THE SYNTHESIS OF HEAVEN AND

EARThH IN FIFTEENTH-CENTURY

ITALIAN ART 123

VII

8 MICHELANQELO

\

11 REMBRANDT

12 IMAQES OF AUTHORITY

13 THE ARCHITECTURE OF AUTHORITY

15 THEMES FROM NATURE

146

9 THE SYNTHESIS OF HEAVEN ANDEARTH IN SIXTEENTH- AND

SEVENTEENTH-CENTURY ART 166

10, THE TABLEIN BAROQUE SECULAR ART 187

204

223

246

14 TO BE OF ONE'S TIME: THESYNTHESIS OF PAST AND PRESENT

IN NINETEENTH-CENTURY ART 272

296

16 PAINTINQ AND OBJECTS 318

17 THE PORTRAIT IN PAINTINQ ANDSCULPTURE 337

N8 THE FIQURE IN SCULPTURE 353

19 PICASSO 374

20 IMAQINATIVE ART 392

21 DEATH OF THE WINDONa/ AND LIFEOF THE SQUARE: ABSTRACTION 418

V CODA: THE ARTIST TODAY 439

BIBLIOQRAPHY 441

INDEX 448

PHOTOQRAPHIC SOURCES ; 455

VIII

CHRONOLOQY OF TEXT REFERENCES TO WESTERN AND EASTERN ART

(All dates are approximate )

1INTRODUCTION: THE ARTIST'S

PAST TRAIN INQ AND STATUS

A true and thorough study of art and itshistorical development necessarilycalls for

an examination of the artist and his work from

many points of view. Beginning with the workitself and taking account of all the availablerelevant information, the student of art shouldrecognizethat an intelligentappreciationof crea-tive

activitymust proceed from varied sources:biographical data, knowledge of the historicalsituation and social context, philosophicalandesthetic premises of the time, and particularconsiderations such as working methods, pa-tronage

systems, and immediate purposes.The first thing to be conceded about the

purposes of art is that historians are without

information in many historical areas of this

subject.A mica hand made by an AmericanIndian (Fig. 1), for example, confronts theviewer like a stop sign.This object is a many-'sided sign,however, for it directs one to the past,to a distinctive culture and possiblyto religiousbeliefs,to an excellent craft tradition that allowedbeautiful work in such unlikelymaterial, and toa creator of considerable artistic intelligence.Although the hand was found in a burial moundin Ohio, experience with similar burial finds inother cultures,such as those in the southeasternUnited States, does not allow us to say with

certainty whether this object was identified

with a funerary cult, a god, or simply thedeceased, or whether it was a ritual object ortalisman, a sign of prestigeor an occupationalsymbol. There is no suggestionthat the hand isbroken off from a wrist, so that it has a curiousand mysterious look of completeness and self-

Figure I. Hand, from Ross County, Ohio. Hope-wellCulture, 300 B.C.

-500 a.d. Mica, ii'/sxS".The Ohio Historical Society,Columbus.

sufficiency.Yet, without a convincing explana-tionof the actual burial,social,or religious

context, can we even be sure of this impression?The hand may have been traced from that of

the artist. The fingers,long and tapered,arenot those which would testifyto hard manualexercise; but is this perhaps a convention ofstylerather than a symbol of elevated rank?We cannot be sure of whether or not it was

intended to be seen from a given direction,orthat it is some symbolicgesture. What is sure isits existence, and the reminder it providesthatsuch a presentationof the human hand by itselfstill has the power to move us, to provokethought and wonder. Whatever the motivebehind its creation,we can assume that thehand was importantto itsmaker and his patron,whether livingor deceased.

Some of the oldest known wall paintingsgiveabundant testimony of the importance thatthe leavingof a visible trace of one's hand hadfor some prehistoricmen. On the walls of thenorthern Spanish caves of Altamira, Stone Agemen are presumed to have blown colored pig-ments

through a hollow bone, like a rudiment-aryspray gun, on and around their hands

placed against the wall so that the outlineswould thus be traced on the surface (Fig.2).There is no evidence of the handprintsbeingarranged in any kind of sequence; nor is there

any discernible relation to the bison depictedwith them. Moreover, they are not alwaysfound in conjunctionwith paintedanimals, sothat one becomes cautious about their identifi-cation

as the artist's"signature."We must alsobe guarded in attributingthe frequencyof suchhandprints merely to a childlike delightin

Figure 2. PolychromeBison,with hands superimposed.Magdalenian period, c. 15,000-9000 b.c. Cavepainting.Length of bison c. 36".Altamira, Spain.

discovering how to leave marks of one'spresence, for these animal paintingsshowsignsof a certain sophistication.

That a man's individualitycould be expressedthrough his hand has been known for centuries;even in ancient times,it was customary to referto a work of art as "coming from the handof" some artist. To our knowledge, not untilthe twentieth century did an artist actuallyaffirm his identityin his work by means ofhis handprint.The American abstract painterJackson Pollock not only applied his paint-covered hand to the upper right corner of hiscanvas, but he repeated the gesture severaltimes" perhapsin view of the absence of any othersinglereadilycomparable shape in his entirepainting(Fig.3). Rarely used by Pollock,thehandprintwas, needless to say, the best possibleguarantee againstforgeryof his abstractions.

The absence of evidence other than the worksthemselves confounds us when we try todiscover why the Indian and Altamira artistsmade their objectsand chose their motifs. Despitethe fact that Pollock, who died relativelyrecently,had many friends and made personalstatements about his art, modern researchmethods stillcannot disentangleand decide thepsychologicalmotives or the purposes thatimpelled his response to life through his art.Every serious artist has, in a sense, been the

pupiland rival of artistswho came before him,and the twin motives of continuingand sur-passing

art of the past were certainlynot un-knownto Pollock. More surprisingly,perhaps,

present-daystudies of Stone Age peoplessuggestthat these same incentives,though tied in withreligion,magic, and other purposes, may haveobtained from the earliest periodsof humanhistoryin which art was made.Despitethe similar feature of the handprint

included in both, between the Paleohthic andPollock paintingsthere is a difference that,inorder to be accounted for,involves citingthewhole historyof Western and, to some extent,Eastern art. Not only the character and locationof their paintings,their stylesand media, butalso the diflferences in the very relationshipofthe artists to their societies and the occasionfor making their paintingsare factors thatrequiredthousands of years to evolve. Ratherthan write in generalitiesabout art in thisintroduction,the author feels that it may bemore helpfulfor the reader to learn somethingof the historyof the Western artist'sprofession

Figure 3. Jackson Pollock.Number i. 1948. Oil on canvas,5'8" X 8'8". The Museum ofModern Art, New York (Pur-chase).

(See detail in Fig. 530).

in terms of his training, his social status, andthose for whom he worked. In this

way, the

implications of Pollock's handprint may be-come

more understandable, as part of the

evidence of what men have created throughcoordination of mind, feelings, eye, and hand

throughout the history of art.

THE ARTIST IN ANTIQUITY

The manual effort required for the creation of

art was throughout much of history the prin-cipalreason for the artist's low social status.

Physical labor of any sort was looked down

upon by the ruling classes in the ancient Near

East, Greece, and Rome, and it was not until

the coming of Christianity and the making

of religious art by monks " many of whom hadbeen noblemen

"

that there was a significant

change in attitude toward the manual activityrequired by art. There is circumstantial evidencethat some form of art training existed even in

prehistoric times, if one is to judge on the basisof cave drawings that appear to have been done

by apprentices and then corrected by moreskilled hands. There is abundant evidence that

art shools existed in ancient Egypt over 5,000

years ago. Many models of sculpture and paint-ingfrom which students were trained to imitate

have survived. Egyptian wall paintings show

craftsmen, artists' assistants, and master artists

at work on projects for the royal palaces,temples, and tombs (Fig. 4). Since "high"art, as distinguished from village handicrafts,was the prerogative of the pharaohs and priests

Figure 4. Egyptian Craftsmenat Work. c. 1400 B.C. Wall

painting. Tomb of the Sculp-torsNebamun and Ipuki,

Thebes.

Introduction: The Artist's Past Training and Status

of Egypt, the best artists were in their service.

With some few exceptions, basic formulas and

styles of Egyptian art hardened at an early date

and persisted for almost three millenniums.

Artists were enjoined to repeat the art that al-readyexisted, and originality was unheard of and

uncalled for as a quality of art. The perpetua-tionof a relatively constant art was intimately

linked with the preservation of the pharaoh's

political authority and the power of the priests;the art schools ensured this continuity. While

certain Egyptian architects achieved distinc-tion,

and even divinity (not being required to usetheir hands), there was no such official or social

recognition for painters and sculptors.In ancient Greece, well before the time of

Alexander the Great (fourth century B.C.),

painters and sculptors of distinction wereknown by name. From scenes on Greek vases

we obtain an idea of what the activity in a

sculptor's shop was like: assistants are shown

working at various tasks amid the tools and

products of their craft (Figs. 5, 6). ClassicalGreek literature before the fourth century B.C.,

however, tells us nothing about importantartists and their training, a fact which suggeststhat although great visual art was appreciated,its makers were either scorned or considered

unworthy of mention in poetry and drama.

A sixth-century Greek sculptor named Theo-

dorus of Samos is known to have cast a bronze

sculpture of himself holding a file, and the

fifth-century sculptor Polyclitus wrote a cele-brated

"canon" of ideal proportions in sculp-ture,both of which works were lost. The activity

of these men indicates that some artists were

interested in recognition and were concerned

with passing on their ideas and work to later

generations. It is thus from the fifth century

B.C. that we have the first record of writing byartists on art. Manual labor in ancient

Greece was reserved for slaves, and although

painters and sculptors were mostly freemen,their engaging in work with their hands and

for monetary reward combined to keep their

social status down in pre-Classical and Classical

times. From the time of Alexander the Great,

there arises in Greek literature the celebration

of the godlike attributes of great painters such

as Apelles. For centuries after, even into the

Renaissance, stories were told of the favors

that Alexander bestowedupon his favorite paint-ers,

such as that of his giving one of his mis-tresses

to Apelles. During and after Alexander's

time, famous artists were known to have dressed

well, lived in luxury, and made magnanimous

civic gestures: Polygnotus, for instance, painted

public walls without recompense. Working for

money was a social stigma in Greece and Rome.

In the late fourth century B.C., Douris of

Samos wrote the first biographical book onartists, composed largely of traditional stories

or anecdotes concerning artists who had died

long before. Although this book survives onlyin a fragment, it is important historically for

inau.gurating the biographical literature onartists. One does not find in Greek literature,

however, any appreciation or commentaryon the imaginative or esthetic aspect of art,simply references to its technical aspects.

Roman writers such as Seneca and Plutarch

were repeating Greek prejudices when theycommented that works of art might be enjoyedbut their makers were to be disdained. What

drew the ire of Roman writersupon their artist

contemporaries was, more usually, the high

prices affixed to their works. Roman emperorssuch as Nero were dilettante painters (none

were sculptors, probably explainable by the

lesser physical effort demanded of the painterthan of the sculptor), but even this circumstancedid not elevate the painters socially. Despite the

great importance of artists for the Romans "their use by generals to record military camr

Left : Figure 5. The Foundry Painter. Bronze Foundry (detail of an Attic kylix). c. 470 B.C.Full height 4^/4''" Staatliche Museen, Berlin. Right: Figure 6. Opposite side of kylix in Fig. 5.

paigns,by emperors to establish their authori-tativeimage throughout the empire and to

decorate whole cities,and by the prieststogivetangibleform to the gods" Roman litera-ture

shows no interest in the personahtiesorlifehistories of Rome's artists.In consequence ofthe great interest the Romans had in ClassicalGreek art of the fifth century b.c, as expressedin their avid collectingand their commissioningof copies,Roman artists were unfavorablycompared with their Greek predecessorsin '

the quahty of sincerity.It is not surprisingthat,other than a few painted vases, there has notcome down to us from Greece and Rome anysignificantbody of paintingor sculpturehavingartists and their work as the subjectmatter.When it was suspectedthat the great GreeksculptorPhidias had carved his own portraiton the shield of the Athena Parthenos,housed inthe illustrious temple on the Acropolis,hewas publicly criticized for his vanity. Thisover-all absence of self-portraitsor othervisual evidence of the making of art should notbe construed as proof that important ancientartists were but anonymous, or humble work-men;

yet the nature of their paid phvsicalwork did link them with the craftsmen assigneda low rung on the social ladder despitetheflamboyant and zealous efforts of a few greatGreek artists. Not until the fifteenth century,when certain Italian artists began to concernthemselves with theoretical knowledge, wasart ranked with the liberal arts and thus givengreater dignitythan mere craft or artisanship.

THE MONASTIC ARTIST

From the fourth to the twelfth century, Chris-tian

monasteries in Western Europe were thegreat schools and production centers of art.In the earlyMiddle Ages the chief task of themonastic libraries was the preservationandduplicationof books, many of which had comedown from antiquity.In the monastic writingrooms, where there was often a division of

artistic labor, scribes and illuminators repro-ducedand decorated Christian texts and, to a

lesser extent, ancient secular books (seeChapter5, "The Sacred Book").As part of the monasticroutine, the artistic work of the monks wasviewed as the proper service of God and the

Church, and some of the social stigmaattachedto the physicallabor involved was removed.

^.

.

"

"

11

wem

" " 1 " "~i J i ] I a J ""

"'"y :'"'"^'IvlP^" ;^[ ''^^^fi'J""L.Jl\iiLlfif'llliti/rtifiriaiMi!iB!l

Figure 7. Two Scribes at Work and Presentationof the Alanuscriptto the Emperor,from The Book ofPericopesofHenry III. 1039-40. Manuscript illumi-nation.

Staatsbibliothek, Bremen.

From the time of Charlemagne, at the end ofthe seventh and the beginning of the eighthcentury, many monasteries had imperialsup-port

and undertook important royal commis-sionsfor making sumptuous books. An eleventh-

century German manuscript illustrates suchofficiallysponsored monastic activity(Fig.7).Book adornment was not the only artisticformengaged in by the monasteries, however;sculpture,goldsmithing,enamel work, weaving,and buildingalso enlisted the talents of themonks and laybrethren who were brought intothe monasteries because of their specialskills.Secular artists and architects so employedwere often itinerant,and they formed a mobilelabor supply that journeyed about Europe,and worked in various monasteries on painting,sculpture,or architectural projects.Until therise of the largecities of Western Europe inthe eleventh and twelfth centuries,monasterieswere unrivaled in the trainingof artists and fortheir artisticproduction.Through the centuriesmany monasteries had accumulated greatwealth along with their religiousand artisticprestige.By the eleventh and twelfth centuries,in the largemonastic centers much of the actualart was made by laymen, inside and outside thewalls, and the monks were often cast in therole of organizers or overseers of secularartistic labor. All through the Middle Ages,the monasteries provided the artisticschoolingfor those employed in the manors, courts, andgraduallyin the cities,until by the twelfth andthirteenth centuries,the citiesthemselves beganto rival and then surpass the monasteries in the

trainingof artists and in the productionof art.

Introduction: The Artist's Past Training and Status 7

./ LODQE, QUILD,AND WORKSHOP

Of great importance in the history of art is thetransition,during the twelfth and thirteenth

I centuries,from the making of art by monks in1 monasteries to secular artists working in cities.During this period the "lodge" form of artist'sorganization and artisan's cooperative cameinto being in conjunctionwith the buildinganddecorating of the great cathedrals. The lodgehierarchy consisted of the supervising masterarchitect, who directed the general artistic

program, other master artists,and journeymenmasons and carvers. Members were free to come

and go, but usually a nucleus of lodge mem-bersremained to finish an assignment and then

often moved on as a group to a new project.The activities of the lodge were all coordinated

by one supervisor,who in turn was followingspecificationsset down by the Church. Thelodge organization was thus intended to facil-itate

and harmonize the various special tasksof these great undertakings.

In the eleventh and twelfth centuries, thedecorative carving and painting were actuallyexecuted directlyon the building,with artistsworking from scaffolds. Gradually, in thetwelfth and thirteenth centuries, the paintersand sculptorsquite literally"detached" them-selves

from the architecture and began tomake the sculptureand paintingsin workshopslocated near the site or elsewhere in the town.This was reflected in and eventuallychangedthe character of the relationshipof paintingand sculpture to the architecture (with thefirst two becoming more independent). Thecraftsmen who worked in the lodge proper,which was usually a building attached to ornear the cathedral, were committed to live onthe premises as well and were subject to strictregulations regarding their pay and standardsof workmanship.

It was not until the fourteenth and fifteenth

centuries,when a broad middle class first hadenough money and the incentive to commissionpainting and sculpture on its own, that itbecame economically feasible for an artist toset up his own workshop in a city.With thegrowing wealth and the increasingdemand ofthe urban populace for both religiousandsecular art, the lodge organization gave wayto the guilds of paintersand sculptors.Otherprofessions had, in general, organized into

guilds even earlier than the artists. In Italy,one finds artists associated in guilds as early asthe thirteenth century. In northern Europe,the artist guildsbecame numerous in the four-teenth

and fifteenth centuries,with some of theearlier ones being formed in Ghent (1339),Tournai (1341), and Bruges (1351).

The purposes of the guilds were to protectmembers from outside competition and toinstill and ensure pride, respectability,skill,and loyaltyby providing and enforcingstand-ards

for the professionaland personal welfareof the members. With the exception of royalcommissions, which were outside such regula-tion,

in many cities only guild members wereallowed to work at painting and sculpture.The organizationof the guild was hierarchical,consistingof a board of overseers responsibleforthe observance of rules, the master artists,journeymen (or paid assistants),and appren-tices,

and each group had its own spokesmen.Regulations for training,for performance, andfor promotion to the different grades were setforth in writing. The guild often solicitedcustomers, determined the just price of afinished work, and decided whether or not its

qualitymet required standards. Defective workcould be confiscated,and delinquent membersfined or expelled. Prices were largely deter-mined

on the basis of the cost of materials and

the time involved. Artists, were expected to beable to do an accepted amount in a given periodof time, and they could be paid on the basisof the size of the area painted.

The guilds'emphasis was placed not on artistictheory but on the more matter-of-fact technical

considerations,such as the making of tools andthe employment of high-qualitymaterials. Theguildsalso occupied themselves with providingcodes of morality for members and ensuringfair labor practices,such as the proper housingof apprentices.In addition, they were respon--sible for burial insurance, widows' pensions,and the sayingof Masses for deceased members.Organized artists also participatedeffectivelyin local politicalaffairs and were found incivic posts such as town councilmen or tax-

collectingofficials.Both in Italyand the Nether-lands,guildswere themselves important patrons

of art and commissioned paintingsand sculpturefor their guild halls and chapels.As an attemptby artists to achieve some measure of collectivesecurity,the medieval guildshad no counterpartin antiquity.

8 Purposes of Art

Plate I. RoGiER VAN DER Weyden. .SY.Luke Drawing the Virgin,c. 1435.Oil on panel,4'61/j"x 3'?"s"-The Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

Plate 2. Diego Velazijuez. The Maids of Honor {Las Meniiias).1 65 1. Oil on canvas, lo's" xg'. Prado, Madrid.

ciZ

c

o

o

6o

o

C

o^

.2 3

^ 3

"

O

The guilds were not always confined topainters and sculptors,but often includedother professionalsand artisans such as sad-dle

makers, pharmacists,and glass blowers.Artists were also called upon to decorate ban-ners,

armor, ships,furniture,and other house-holdobjects. Such alliance with the crafts

did not help to raise the social status of artistsas a whole, but there were outstanding indi-vidual

paintersand sculptorswho did achievepublic recognitionand played important rolesin their city'shistory. At the height of theguild system, nonetheless, the honor of theguildwas to be placed above all by its members.

The patron saint of many artists' guildsthroughout Europe was St. Luke the Evange-list,

who it was believed had been an artist and

had actually drawn the Virgin and Christ.A fifteenth-century panel painting by theFlemish artist Rogier van der Weyden (PI.1)depicts the Evangelist sketching the Virginand the Christ child; in the lightof its subject,this painting may have been a guild commis-sion.

Of particularinterest to the historyof theartist himself is the fact that there is a stronglikelihood that van der 'Weyden painted himselfas St. Luke. Since the fourteenth century,artists and their secular patrons have left their

own image in religiousworks of art, whereasformerly a monk or abbot would have at mostsigned a work as being by his hand or throughhis commission.

Van der Weyden's painting,and conceiv-ablyeven his likeness, would have passed

guild inspection and approval primarily inthese respects: the preparation and qualityofthe wood of the panel; the priming coat ofa plasterlikesubstance; the qualityof the pig-ments

purchased and then ground either bythe artist himself or by an apprentice; theclarityand purity of the glazeslaid over thepaint;the appropriatenessand decorum of hissymbols and figuretypes, as well as their set-

ting.From the guild, an artist would learn

of the lives of the saints and their symbols,in other words, all the suitable elements for areligious painting.When an artist inheritedhis profession,as was often the case, the guildserved to school him from childhood in manyareas directly and indirectlyconnected withhis profession.

ARTISTIC QENIUSAND OFFICIAL PATRONAQE

It was during the fifteenth century in Italy thatthe most important steps were taken to elevateart from the lower,craft status of the mechanicalarts to that of the liberal and theoretical

arts. What impeded a generalimprovement ofthe artists' social status in Italy during this

century were the age-oldconsiderations of theirlow birth

" with the exception of a very fewartists such as Alberti and Leonardo " and

their training in a workshop as craftsmen,for until the end of the century, with the

advent of the art of Michelangelo,largepaintingand sculpturecommissions were expected to becollaborative eflibrts (Fig. 8). This does notmean that individual artists failed to gainhandsome financial reward and great civic

admiration; but when this was the case, it wasoften because the artist had been able to

resist the guild monopoly by undertakingimportant commissions for the Church orofficial court circles,enterprisesthat permittedmobility from town to town and at least tempo-rary

exemption from guild membership andregulations.(It was not until 1571 that Italianartists could legitimize their independencefrom the guild as legallyrecognizedsupportedindividual professionals.)

In 1455, the sculptorLorenzo Ghiberti pub-lishedthe firstartist'sautobiography.It appeared

after the successful completionof his second great

Figure 8. Nanni diBanco. Sculptor'sWork-shop,

from the base of theTabernacle of the FourSaints, c. 1410-14.Marble. Or San Michele,Florence.

Figure 9. Lorenzo Ghiberti. Self-portrait,detailof the "Gates of Paradise. " c. 1435. Gilded bronze.

Baptistery,Florence.

pairof bronze doors for the Baptisteryof Florence,the "Gates of Paradise" (Fig.9),on which Ghi-berti

had the temerityto include his own portrait.In his autobiography,not only does he proudlyor boastfullyproclaimall that he has accom-plished

and that he is an inventive rather than

an imitative artist,but he also writes what hefeels the education of the new artist of his dayshould include. His insistence upon the liberal

arts, stillacquiredin the context of a workshopsuch as he himself operated,is symptomaticofthe changing status of the artist. Ghibertiwrote: "The sculptor" and the painteralso"should be trained in all these liberal arts:

Grammar, Geometry, Philosophy,Medicine,Astronomy, Perspective,History, Anatomy,Theory of Design,Arithmetic." Ghiberti wasthus equatingthe artist with the scholar,andthe idea of the artist as a man of learningwastakingshape.It was Leonardo, Michelangelo,and Raphael who were most responsibleforputtingGhiberti's admonition into practice,andby working independently,they achieved greatrespect for themselves and new recognitionfortheir professionin the earlysixteenth century.Leonardo established nature, rather than a

workshop master, as the true source and guideof artisticinspiration.

Albrecht Diirer's engravingof 1514 entitledAielencolia / is a spiritualself-portraitthatillustrates,in an appropriatelyesoteric way,the new concept of the artist as a genius,albeita melancholy one (Fig. 10). By means ofsymbol and allegory,in keepingwith the prac-tice

and intellectual taste of his time,he showsgeniusor the creative giftin terms of a superiorfeminine winged being who is reduced to astate of inaction amid the symbols of the artsand sciences. In Diirer's time,peopleof melan-choly

disposition(hence of unpleasantandimstable nature) were considered superiorto other men. Born under Saturn, they werethought to have the giftof imaginationbut to belimited in attainment in such higherfields asmetaphysics.Diirer used the inactive,des-pondent

pose and the varied array of objectstoindicate that,althoughinspiredby transcendentvisions,his own limitations as a human pre-vented

him from realizinghis hopes.Havingmastered the skillsand the geometry requiredin his art, he was in turn trappedby their veryinadequacies.It was in the sixteenth centurythat the concept of artistic "genius"achievedwidespreadacceptance, when importantartistssuch as Diirer, Michelangelo,and Titiangained intellectual recognitionand helpedsubstantiallyto upgrade their profession.Itwas also from the time of Diirer that collectors

Figure 10. Albrecht Durer. Melencolia I. 1514.Engraving, gi/4x6%". The National Galleryof Art,Washington,D.C. (Rosenwald Collection).

10 Purposesof Art

came to value drawings as finished and valuableworks of art in themselves, important especiallyin that they intimately reflect the hand of theartist who made them.

In the annals of the sixteenth century it is not

uncommon to read of the great artists acceptedin the company of intellectuals as well as

royalty. Pieter Bruegel the Elder, for example,kept company with some of the most learnedmen in Europe. His drawing of the 1560s(Fig. 11), in which he had the self-confidenceand courage to satirize those who purchase art,may have been a spiritualself-portraitin themanner of the Durer engraving. Bruegel showsan artist intent upon his work, as a bespectacledbuyer fumbles for the money to buy the

painting.The drawing is a calculated contrastin human types and in vision. The artist

frowns at that which clearlypleasesthe foolish

patron. (The Flemish word for spectaclesalsosignified"fool.") The strong, sure hand ofthe artist emphasizes the awkward gesture ofthe patron. Both Bruegel and Diirer tell us thatthe artist's vision is inaccessible to us, and that

Figure 1 1.

Pieter Bruegel the Elder. The

Painter and the Connoisseur, c. 1565. Brown ink onpaper, g^/gx 81/2".Albertina, Vienna.

Figure 12. Hendrik Goltzius. Portrait ofHans Bol. c. 1593. Engraving, 1014x7". PrivateCollection.

the making of art involves problems the laymancannot recognize.

The homely dress of Bruegel'sartist is decep-tivein regard to the way the successful artist

of his century and thereafter might be expectedto appear in public. From the sixteenth andseventeenth centuries there have survived

innumerable prints and paintings in whichartists pay homage to other artists and affirmthat in dress and manners they could be gentle-men.

Upon the death of the Flemish artistHans Bol, his friend Hendrik Goltzius did an

engraving (Fig. 12) in which the dead manwas accorded symbolic funerary honors of animportant person. Bol isshown as a well-groomedand handsomely attired gentleman, his effigysurrounded by attributes of his professionaswell as those of death.

During the seventeenth century, Peter PaulRubens attained not only great artistic famein northern Europe but also renown as adiplomat in the service of the Spanish king.Amassing great wealth as a consequence of the

quality and productivityof his large workshop(run not unlike that of a medieval artist),heacquired a palatialhouse in Antwerp, filled itwith works of art and antiquities,and on theirwedding day painted himself and his bride intheir beautiful rose garden (Fig. 13). Rubens

Figure 13. Peter Paul Rubens. Self-portraitwithIsabella Brandt. i6og-io. Oil on canvas, s'q'/o"x45 "/z".Alte Pinakothek, Munich.

and his wife are seen dressed in the height offashion, and their good looks and personalbearinghelp to create what might well be anaristocratic image.

Artists had served kingssince the time of thepharaohs, usually being attached to the courtbut assignedan inferior status. By the sixteenthcentury, however, famous artists who had madetheir reputations as independent figureswereoften honored by kings by beinggiven titlesandspecialprerogatives.One of the great paintingsin the historyof art involvingthe work of theartist at court was done by Diego Velazquez,who in the seventeenth century was chamberlain

to PhilipIV, King of Spain.Velazquez'paint-ing,originally titled The Royal Family, later

came to be called Las Meninas because of the

young ladies-in-waitinggrouped around theInfanta Marguerita,the king'sblond daughter(PI.2).The scene is in a high-ceilinged,sparselyfurnished room of the royal palace, withpaintingsfrom the king'scollection fillingthewalls. A mirror on the far wall reflects the

images of the King and Queen as if they arein the positionof a viewer lookingat the scene.Velazquez, standing at the left before a tallcanvas seen from the back, is attired in courtdress and wears at his belt the key of his office.The foregroundfocus is shared by the Infanta,her attendants, a dwarf, and a dog. Mindfulof his station and prerogatives,Velazquezdiscreetlyportrays himself in a positionthat islogicalboth in the context of the paintingandfor the courtlyworld of rank. The ingenuityand brilliance of the conceptionof this painting,as well as its virtuoso execution, help us tounderstand why such exceptionalpainterswerefavored by seventeenth-century rulers for pro-jecting

their official public image and forcapturingthe more privatescenes of court life.

FROM ART CLUBS

TO THE ACADEMIES

Leonardo protestedin his writings against theguild method of education, in which childrenwould begin at about twelve years of age asapprenticeslearning their craft by cleaningand repairing brushes, grinding pigments,preparing the canvas, and then imitatingthedrawing and paintingof the master until thenovice could complete a work from a sketchgiven to him. During this period,which mightlast for as long as six years, the apprentice

'

would perform a variety of other, nonartistic ,'services for the master. His journeyman periodinvolved working for other artists in various "locations,until he could show by his proficiency)that he was ready to joina guild or company insome city,where he then settled down. Leo-nardo

wanted aspiringartists to study science,especiallyperspective,and by such theoreticallearning,paintingas a creative effort might bedivorced from mere craft. Michelangeloavoidedthe rigors of the guild system, since he wasgiven the opportunityinstead to study ancientworks of art under the guidanceof an old sculp-tor

in the court of Lorenzo de' Medici. His

later refusal to take pupilsor to use assistantsfor his importantwork exemplifieda new idealof individuality.

In the first half of the sixteenth century,several artists' clubs were formed in Italy.An engravingby Eneas Vico from a drawing byR.Tccio RrindinelH 1 sculptor and rival of

Purposes of Art

Michelangelo, shows a group of artists ofvarious ages gathered in a room, where theyhave come to draw or watch others draw and todiscuss theories and what was being done(Fig. 14). Not an art school in the sense ofstudents executinga problem under the direc-tion

of a teacher, this group was rather aninformal gatheringof apprenticesand artists,inorder to practicedrawing in a room of theVatican providedfor Bandinelli by the Pope.

One of the earliest art academies was founded

) in Florence in 1561 by the artist Giorgioi_ Vasari, celebrated for his Lives of the Artists,

which is the foundation of art historical

writing. His .A^ccademia del Disegno, whichbrought together outstanding artists in anorganizationimder the patronage of the GrandDuke of Florence, Cosimo I de' Medici, pro-vided

an alternative to the guilds. Vasari's" academy planned a more enlightenededucationof young artists,which was to include lectureson such subjectsas geometry. Students wereencouraged to learn from studying artists suchas Michelangelo by imitating his figuresorwhole compositions.In reality,however, Vasasi'sacademy did little more than create a newartists'guild,and it made some contribution toelevatingthe social status of the profession.

The most important and influential of theearlyacademies was that called the Accademiadi San Luca, founded in Rome in 1593. Itreceived papal encouragement because ofconcern over the poor qualityof art producedfor the Church by inadequatelytrained youngartists.Although there seems to have been asubstantial emphasison abstract theory,guidedby the artist Federigo Zuccari, a definiteeducational program was outlined wherebystudents would be taught to draw from plastercasts of ancient sculptureand from life. Theirwork was to be corrected by instructors,and

prizeswere occasionallyto be awarded. Whilethe academy was not a great success " and, infact,did not finallyrival the guilds or sustaina system of course instruction " its ideas,likethose of Leonardo and Vasari,were to influencethe future trainingof artists.At the beginningof the seventeenth century, small groups ofartistsin various Italian citiessuch as Genoa and

Bologna often assembled in one of their ownstudios or a room provided by a patron forpurposes of studying together and drawingfrom a live model. It was from Italythat thisidea was exported to northern Europe, at firston a small scale in the Netherlands at the endof the sixteenth and into the seventeenth century.Rembrandt, for example, taught his pupilstodraw from life,as well as to study older art foritslessons.

The most famous and influential of all artacademies was that founded in France in

1648, which under Louis XIV came to beknown as the Academic Royale of paintingandsculpture.In the preceding century, the idea ofan academy had been developed to allowartists greater freedom from the guilds; butunder the King and his prime minister Colbert,the royal academy was closely tied to theabsolutist centralization of government andculture in France. As a consequence, while the

artists or academicians attained greater social

security and prestige,they sacrificed theirindependence.The leading French artists wereobliged to become members, and a definiteschedule of teachingand courses was established" even to a timetable for each week's instruction

held in a wing of the Louvre. An elaboratehierarchyof gradedmembership was established,and assigned duties included attendance atworship services and business meetings,select-ing

and posingthe model, providingexamplesof art to be drawn from, and correctingstudent

Figure 14. Eneas Vico (afterBaccio Bandinelli). Artists andApprentices,c. 1550. Engraving,i2',4xig". Private Collection.

13

work. The chief aim of the Academie Royalewas to teach students to draw, model, and

paint in the officiallyapproved court style.Drawing from a live model was a rightreservedfor the royalacademy, and itsartisticmonopolyextended even to the area of printmaking, sothat engravings had to carry the notice cumprivilegedu roi. This inscriptionis found inSebastien Le Clerc's engravingof 1700 (Fig.15),in which he shows an ideal academy of finearts and sciences. Colbert had seen that throughsuch officiallysponsored academies all formsof culture could be harnessed to the aims of

the king.The Le Clerc vision is an enactmentof the ideals of Leonardo, Alberti, Ghiberti,and other earlier artists who were concerned

with joiningvisual arts with the liberal arts.In the engraving,small groups of teachers andstudents are disposedthroughout a courtyardand arcades of an academicallyapproved styleof architecture based upon precepts of the

Renaissance and antiquity.In this splendidsetting,students are being instructed in naturalscience, perspective,astronomy, geography,palm reading,heraldry,architecture,painting,drawing from ancient sculpture,measuringbuildings,mechanics, and theology.The stu-dents

and instructors are shown in ancient

costume, as if Le Clerc were reconstructingsome mythical academy from antiquity,butvery likelyhe was also showing an academician'sdistaste for contemporary costume. The art of

antiquityset the norm for subjects,postures,figuretype, and dress.

In actuality,students at the Academie Royaledid listen to lectures on art theory,particularlywith regard to perspective,anatomy, propor-tion,

decorum (the proper appearance andconduct of paintedfigures),drawing, and com-position.

Canons, or definite rules,of art wereestablished and taught.Often the lectures werebased upon analysisof officiallyapproved

paintingsand sculpture,thereby anticipatingthe modern teachingof art history.After fouryears of schoolingin the academy and successfulpassage of examinations, the more promisingstudents were allowed to work in Rome for

four years and to send back to France copiesofRoman art. When by satisfactorilycompletingvarious tests a student finallyachieved therank of academician, he could stillchoose toally himself with some company of paintersin a town, and he was assured of royalpatronage.Art continued in the seventeenth and eighteenthcenturies to be a hereditaryprofession,and thesons of academicians were given preferentialtreatment of various kinds when they entered

upon their formal schooling.In the eighteenthcentury the authoritarian

rule of the Academie Royale by the king wasrelaxed. Despitea subsequentdecline in power,after 1750 the French academy became thebasis for similar academies sponsoredby royaltythroughout Europe, as a means of bringingartinto its service and improving the economy.Craftsmen as well as artists could benefit from

the same artistic training,based on the Frenchmodel of drawing from other drawings, thenfrom casts, and finallyfrom the live model.Business interests saw a greater accessibilityofart education as a means of improving theirproductsand stimulatingtrade. Free-tuition artschools and other schools dedicated only to thecrafts emerged in the eighteenthcentury. TheFrench royalacademy did not undergo seriousalteration in its make-up until the time of theRevolution, when its concept of art in theservice of the state was challenged.From thetime of the academy's founding and in itssubsequenthistory,young artists continued, inmedieval fashion, to learn much of their pro-fession

from master artists,from whom a letterwas requiredas part of the academic admissionrequirements.

Figure. 15. Sebastien Le Clerc.Academy of the Fine Arts and Sciences.1 700. Engraving,91/2x i4'/8".PrivateCollection.

14

As had taken placein sixteenth-centuryItaly,English art academies were started from pri-vate

artists' studios in the eighteenthcentury.In contrast to the official auspices of theEuropean royal academies, those in Englandwere private schools, with studies centeredupon drawing from the live model. Artists inHolland, though allied to the old guilds,hadthe greatest independence" and the least finan-cial

security" of any European artists. UnlikeFrench academicians who worked for lucrative

and often grandiose, but circumscribed, com-missionsissuingfrom a narrow patronage base

in the court, Dutch painterssold small-scaleeasel paintingseither out of their studios or todealers who served a broad middle-class

clientele. (The firstart dealers appeared in thesixteenth century, but as a professiontheybecame more numerous and international in

the seventeenth century.)Thus, the precedentfor

"

that is,conditions encouraging the riseof

" the modern artist who works on an inde-pendentbasis is to be found in the wider-

sources of patronage in seventeenth-centurvHolland.

The nineteenth century saw the greatestproliferationand enrollment in art academiesthroughout Europe; yet this was also thecentury of their decline in importance. Therewere many reasons for this change: the largesize of many academies, such as the Ecole desBeaux-Arts in Paris (which continues today,as successor to the Academic Royale); theroutine and methods of instruction,which werefelt to be too impersonal,too old-fashioned,orinimical to the development of young artistswith talent and originality.Moreover, thealliance of the academies, be it formal or in-direct,

with conservative politicalforces arousedthe antipathyof many artists.Academic trainingand its apparatus for exhibitingand sellingworks of art did not change with the new idealsof individualism that were sweeping Europe innineteenth-centuryart, nor did it make effectiveprovisionfor exhibition and sale of work bythousands of paintersand sculptorsto the newlyexpanding middle-class market.

INDEPENDENCE

In a series of nineteenth-century Frenchpaintings,one can see some of the significantchanges in the historyand status of the artist.

Figure i6. Masse. The Studio ofBaron Gros. 1830.Oil on canvas, 33*/2X39%". Musee Marmottan,Paris.

The first,by an artist named Masse (Fig.16),depicts a scene in the private art school ofBaron Gros, in which a group of students areshown drawing from a female model posed inthe manner of an ancient sculptureor drawingof Venus. On the wall are displayedthe paletteand plasterbust of the painterJacques LouisDavid, whose school Baron Gros had takenover when David was forced to flee France for

politicalreasons. During the French Revolu-tionDavid, though a product of the Academic,

had attacked its leadership,drasticallycurbedits powers, and liberalized the opportunitiesforartists to exhibit under its auspices.David andBaron Gros, like other important nineteenth-century artist-teachers,in realitycontinued thelong-establishedmaster artist-pupilrelation-ship

but introduced into their studio schools

teachingmethods they derived from the acad-emies,such as courses in drawing from master

drawings,casts, and the live model. Instead ofa facultyof several instructors,as found in theacademies, the artist himself guided his pupils.The privateart school was the source of manyimportant nineteenth- and early-twenticth-century painters,such as Manet, Degas,Toulouse-Lautrec, and Matisse.

A possibleself-portraitby the French painterTheodore Gericault (Fig.17) shows the artistalone in his studio,flanked by a plastermodel ofa figureused for studyinganatomy, his palette,and a skull. The inactive,reflective pose of theartist suggests, like Diirer's Melencolia,thedilemma of the artist who must work alone,guided by his own genius,achievingfreedombut also sufferingfrom indecision,doubt, orunattainable visions. In France as well as

Introduction: The Artist's Past Training and Status 15

Figure 17. Theodore Gericault. Portraitof an Artist in His Studio (Self-portrait?).c. 1810-12. Oil on canvas, 4'9y8''x3'8i/g".Louvre, Paris.

Germany, the new Romantic concept ofartisticgeniusand the need for itsfree expres-sion

meant that the artisthad to work outsidethe academic tradition,whereas for Diirer theartist of genius could still work effectivelywithin the guildsystem.

In 1855, Gustave Courbet painteda largepictureentitled The Studio,A Real AllegoryoftheLast Seven Tears ofMy Life(Fig.18).Becausethis work was not acceptedby the officialjurythat determined who would show in the greatannual exhibitions,or Salons,Courbet borrowedmoney to present the firstone-man exhibit inart history.His paintingis not onlya manifestoof what type of art he had givenup and of howhe worked, but it also conveyed the artist'splace in society.Unlike Velazquez,Courbetdoes not show himself at court or even in thehome of a patron; representativesof societycome to his studio,to seek out the artist andhis work. He divides them into two groups "at the left,those who are mercenary or gain

from others,often throughtheir suffering,andat the right,those who support the artist,includingwriters such as the poet Baudelaire,his patron, and other friends. Literallyandsymbolically,the artist situates himself in themiddle of his world; he is the fulcrum, theheart and creative center of modern society.Asa young student,he had studied at a provincialbranch of the academy,and in the backgroundof the studio can be seen hanging a figureofSt. Sebastian,indicative of the art-school milieuand problems.For several years he had workedunder the inspirationof literature and from hisimagination,in the tradition of older artists.But in this paintinghe shows himself paintinga landscapefrom memory, with nature, like thenude model standingbehind him, servingashis inspiration.In a letter to some prospectivestudents,Courbet voiced the feelingsof manyartistsof his century and of our own :

I cannot teach my art, nor the art of any school,since I deny that art can be taught

. .

.

art is

completelyindividual,and that talent of eachartistisbut the resultof his own inspirationandhis own studyof past tradition. . . [1861].

For many of the important independentnineteenth-centuryartists,personalstudyin themuseum, where theyfreelychose the works theywould copy, replacedthe academic insistenceupon a steadfast focus on the antique.Theycould not accept the definitions,laws,or regula-tions

of the academy but insisted instead uponpersonalempiricalexperiencein art. Some olderindependent artists,such as Delacroix andIngres,had largegroups of formal students;others,such as Corot and Pissarro,had quiteinformal but intimate teachingrelationshipswith younger painters.(Pissarrolearned fromCorot,and Cezanne from Pissarro,for example.)In France the old guildor master-apprenticeinstruction in craft had died out with the

Figure 18. GustaveCourbet. The Studio,A Real Allegoryof theLast Seven Years of MyLife.1855. Oil on can-vas,

1 1 '9% " X 19 '6% " .Louvre, Paris.

Revolution and with the dissolution of the

Compagnie de St-Luc. Thereafter, artists hadto learn craft techniquesfrom each other or bythemselves, and Degas spent a lifetime regrettingthe absence of this older tradition yet constantlyexperimentingwith various media on his own.With the Impressionists,mutual stimulation bythe artists in the form of informal cafe discus-sions,

studio visits,and jointpaintingoutingsserved to further the artist's education and

were, in fact,continuations of practicesamongartists that go back at least to the time ofBaccio Bandinelli and his evening drawingsessions. Renoir's pictureof Monet paintingina garden (Fig.19) is but one record of howserious independentartistsworked togetheranddirectlyfrom nature, rather than through theintermediaryof academic theories and plastercasts.

In the nineteenth century, especiallyinFrance, the art critic and the art dealer didmuch to fillthe breach caused by the separationof the serious artist from the academy and fromstate patronage. Writers such as Baudelaire

not onlycommented on exhibitions of academicwork but they also criticized or praised theyounger and independent artists. The critic'srole has continued and increased in the twen-tieth

century, as an influence not only on thebuying public but on the work of the artiststhemselves. The great market for paintingsthat developedwith the prosperityof the middleclass in nineteenth-centuryFrance, England,Germany, and the United States led to a revivalof art deahng in the late 1850s,and throughthis development artists such as the Impres-sionists

were able to reach the publicand eventu-allysupport themselves. The emergence of

nonacademicallytrained artists who supportedthemselves and achieved personal freedomthrough their art is related to another modernphenomenon, that of young men relinquishingtheir trainingor practicein law, medicine, andbusiness professionsto convert themselves intoartists. (Monet, Manet, Degas, Gauguin, andvan Gogh are, of course, the most notableexamples.)

The art dealer, museum official,and critichave replacedthe old guildsin determiningthemarket, quality,and priceof a work of art inmodern times. The public'srecognitionthatpaintingsand sculptureby good artists canincrease in monetary value and the example ofartists such as van Gogh who were neglected

Pierre Auguste Renoir. MonetPaintingin His Garden at Argenteuil.1873. Oil oncanvas, 19% x 42".WadsworthAtheneum, Hartford,Connecticut.

in their own lifetime by the generalpublichaveled to speculationand to widespread and avidpurchasing of the works of both known andunknown artists. Acquisitionof art today con-stitutes

a large-scaleinternational business andpresents a great lure for both the young artistand the neophyte collector.

It was in the late eighteenthand earlynineteenth century that writers and artists

began to proclaim the sovereigntyof the artistover his art, the absence of any obligationtocreate his work for the pubhc welfare. Downto the time of the French Revolution and David,it was taken for grantedthat artists would workon commission and serve the Church or the

state, a princeor a cardinal,when called upon.In the Renaissance,onlythose on the craftsmenlevel produced or reproducedtheir work lor thegeneralpublic;even the greatest figuressuch asMichelangelo and Raphael worked only oncommission. In the seventeenth century onlythe NeapolitanpainterSalvator Rosa declaredfor artistic independence in Italy. Dutchartists produced paintingsin largequantityforunknown or potentialbuyers,but they gearedto the market by specializingin portraits,stilllifes,landscapes,genre, or animal pictures.The last great artist who willinglydevotedhis talents to the service of his governmenton a largescale was Delacroix, who died in1863.

(At the end of this book, more will be saidabout the sociologicalpositionof the artist inthe recent past.)

3

Introduction: The Artist's Past Trainingand Status 17

2ART AS A MATTER OF

LIFE AND DEATH

Throughoutthe world, from the beginningsof civilization to the present, men have

made art for many social and religiouspurposes,but it has always satisfied some need and desire

for beauty as well. Magical and symbolic

purposes of art have not, however, requiredbeauty for their efficacy.Nonliterate peoples aswell as those with rudimentary written lan-guages

may not have had specific words for

beauty and art, but both are virtuallyuniversal

as concepts. Field research among nonliterate

Stone Age peoples in Africa and the SouthPacific in recent years has shown that, contraryto long-standing Western views, these societiesdo have a strong appreciation of artistic qualityand of the importance of the artist. Even incultures of which only the art survives, as withthe pre-Columbian art of Mexico and LatinAmerica, the practical purposes for which

sculpture was made, for example, cannotalone explain the rich variety and sophisticatedform of the works. Contemporary views of

creativity" which for many has come to meanindividuality and originality" make it difficultto understand that in the societies which encour-aged

the making of the art discussed in this

chapter the artist was recognized and esteemedas a creator, despite the absence of such a word

or of a wide range of styleand subject matter ina particular region, social group, and period.In societies strongly committed to tradition,adherence to the conventions of ritual or of

previous forms of art was not felt as a restriction

on creativity by the artists whose work isillustrated in this chapter. While we cannot

fullyre-create the cultural context that brought,these works of art to life,the fact that we aremoved by their quality and beauty links us,if only superficially,with the past and the

peoples from whom they came. Thus the time-less

purpose of unification is in some ways still

served by art.What distinguishes the art in this chapter '

from that of our own clay is that it was seriouslyinvolved with life and death. Whether magicalor symbolic, this art was intended to secure for

men well-being in this life and hereafter. (Con-traryto popular conception, most magic is

"white," not "black," and is intended for good.)In early as well as late phases of many societies,art performed the vital function of assisting mento control their environment, whether human

or natural, and to intervene in the course of

events. Magical art was and is primitive man'sscience. Anthropologists and art historians havefound in African and Oceanic cultures that this

18

Figure 20. Paleolithic Cave Painting,c. 30,000-10,000 b.c. Lascaux (Dordogne), France.

type of art was an agent of control over those

thingsmen could not govern fullyby themselves,such things as rain, the growth of crops, thefecundityof animal supply,health, childbirth,or what might in generalbe termed "success"in life.

From historyand art we learn that there areno absolutes for beauty and reality;both areman-made and susceptibleto change. A visitto a museum is sufficient to remind the readerof this. Our commonly held notion that thereal is what isfamiliar or verifiable by the sensesis constantlyshaken by modern science, forexample. In art we tend to equate the literalimitation of nature's appearance with reality.But art history,like the vicissitudes of philosophyand science,is in itselfa reminder that realityin the past and present depends upon intel-lectual

models or concepts which men form forthemselves. Art givesus a historyofhow men haveinteracted with their environment.

To approach art of the past with toleranceand understanding involves a suspension ofdisbelief. Just as when we are absorbed in abook or film about the past, to confront sym-pathetically

an art deriving from religiousbeliefs or social customs different from one's

own involves settingthe latter aside. The initial

confrontation of African, Oceanic, Aztec, orChinese art can be a shock. But, in the words ofthe late distinguishedanthropologistMelvilleHerskovits, "In art, familiaritybreeds appre-ciation,

which is to say that it takes time and

experienceto perceive,internalize and respondto the aesthetic values of peopleswhose culturediffers from one's own."

FERTILITY ART

The known art of the prehistoricperiod wascreated between 30,000 and 10,000 years ago.The paintingsin the French cave at Lascaux(Fig.20; PI. 3),for instance,are estimated to beabout 15,000 years old. The difficultiesin pro-viding

exact dates for cave paintings arematched by the problems of interpretingtheart itself.Because there are no written records

to assist the archaeologist,he must rely tosome extent upon cautious study of thoseprimitivetribes of today among whom art hasa religiousor magical basis. More direct dataare suppliedby archaeologicalinvestigationsofthe floor strata near the cave paintings,of thelocation of art within underground chambers,

Art as a Matter of Life and Death 19

of what the paintings themselves depict, andof whether or not anything had been done to theimages as part of tribal rituals. The poorventilation, absence of light,and dampness ofthe deepest caves in which art such as that atLascaux is found are all factors that immediatelysuggest a prehistoricpurpose as sanctuariesdevoted not to daily human habitation but to

specialrites and perhaps to worship.Even a casual glance at the walls of Lascaux

indicates that esthetic ornamentation was not

the primary intent of their artists. Many of the

painted animals, such as the bison, deer, horses,and cows that constituted the principalstapleofthe artist's repertory and of his tribe's food

supply, arc to be found in both accessible andnearly inaccessible places within the caves.Some locations are remote from the entrance

and require arduous climbing, crawling, andsqueezing through narrow apertures to obtainuncomfortable glimpses of the paintings androck engravings. On some of the ceilings ofthese subterranean grottoes, hundreds of paintedand engraved images have been superimposedin the same area " a practice suggesting thatthere were privilegedor sacred spots in whichto locate art.

There is general agreement that the purposeof prehistoricart was magical, in that therepresentation of the animals in some waypartook of the realityof the beasts themselves.Further definition of the type of magic or theuse of the images remains a matter of contro-versy

among archaeologists.Found in sitesother than Lascaux are images that showunmistakable signs of having been defaced bypointed instruments, as if by sympathetic magicthe hunters' rituals in the sacred cave were meant

to ensure their power over the quarn,. Most of

the animals, however, are intact and healthy,and all the females are gravid.The painting ofpregnant animals may have been designed toassure the tribe's food supply.

It is impossibleto look at these cave paintingswithout being impressed by their intrinsic es-thetic

value and with the skill of the hands that

realized them on the rough livingrock of thecave walls. They suggest a mature artistic tradi-tion

in which the artist gained part of his trainingfrom his experience as a hunter, an activityinwhich he had to rely upon keenness of eye andhand to provide his food. Many of the poly-chrome

paintings at Lascaux reflect a great

sensitivitynot only to the configurationof theanimals but also to their color and modeling.The paint, made from ground minerals andcharcoal and bound with gummy substances,

may have been either scraped on with shreddedbone or blown on through a hollow bone.Animals were repaintedfrom time to time, andin certain epochs the prevailingtaste was forred or brown. A characteristic of the cave

paintingsis the predominance of the side viewof the animals. Foreshortening was a difficultconcept for the artist,and the frontal viewwould also have meant the visual,and perhapsmagical, loss of the main body and hind legs ofthe animal. It was from the side that the most

distinctive features of the animal" so important

for magical purposes " were to be seen andrendered.

A wall from Lascauxmay at first seem to

have been painted with no plan or consistency,but a closer examination brings into focusseveral series,such as those of the reindeer and

horses, which suggest that the artist may have

been attempting to show more than one animalin the same area simultaneously.The confron-tation

of largebulls or the back-to-back arrange-mentof different animals seemingly painted in

the same styleand at the same time suggests that

prehistoricpainting may have known, at leastin rudimentary form, devices such as groupingsand episodes,even if the latter were emblematicor ritualistic in character. The location of each

animal and the over-all dispersalof groupsdepended to some extent upon the surfacequality of the wall. Ground lines were neverdrawn. It is possiblethat a certain rock forma-tion

evoked an animal image in the mind of theartist which he then drew, or that an outcrop orshelf served as a natural base for the figures.Again, it should be stressed, we may onlyconjecture about the presence of esthetic intentat Lascaux and other caves.

Stone Age figure sculpture is rare. Thefamous Venus of Willendorf (Fig. 21), an objectless than 5 inches in height, is probably oneof the oldest sculptures made to promotefertility.Support for this conjecture must comewholly from the suggestive proportions of thefeminine figure,which exaggerate the repro-ductive

areas of the body and minimize theface and arms, (The thin arms rest across thebreasts.) Judged against anthropological re-constructions

of what women may have looked

20 Purposes of Art

__-^.^**,^^'".4^

?"*/"

Figure 21. Ve?ius of Willendorf.Upper Paleolithicperiod, c. 30,000-10,000 B.C. Limestone, height4%". Naturhistorisches Museum, Vienna.

Figure 22. Idol,from the Cyclades Islands. EarlyHelladic period,c. 2600-1 100 b.c. Marble, height15^/ig".The CityArt Museum, St. Louis, Missouri.

like anywhere from 12,000 to 15,000 years ago,the sculptor'sbodily emphasis may not seemtoo great, and the nattiral configurationof thesmall stone may have aided or suggestedthefinal shaping of the figure.The small scaleallows it to be held in the hand; but this isaboutall that can be said concerning itsoriginaluse.

The making of fertilityimages has been aglobalphenomenon, which should not be sur-prising

in view of the fundamental importanceof reproductionto all peoples.In some civiliza-tions

lacking written records, we must relyupon the location in which the art object isfound to give us some clue to its use. On theCycladesIslands,north of Crete in the Mediter-ranean,

all that survives of their inhabitants

from 2600 to 1100 b.c. are stone tombs, fromwhich archaeologistshave obtained marble

sculpturesvarying in size from a few inches toseveral feet in height (Fig.22). The Cycladesfinds provide the oldest known life-sizenudes.The female figures,usually representedwitharms folded across the abdomen, are possiblytobe identified with a fertilityand mother goddessknown throughout the eastern Mediterraneanworld at this time. As many as a dozen such

sculptureswere found in a singlegrave. Theplacing of a fertilityimage in a grave is notsurprisingor uncommon in many parts of theworld. While we now admire and exhibit these

Cycladic figuresfor their sculpturalbeauty,in the third aiid second millenniums their

efficacyfor the needs of the deceased causedtheir burial underground.

Cycladicfigures,usuallyreferred to as idols,are uniformlyfrontal presentationsof the body,

Art as a Matter of Life and Death 21

0Above: Figure 23. Tlazolteotl,Aztec Goddess oi"Childbirth, c. 1500 a.d. ApUte with garnets,height Si/g".Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, D.C.

Right:Figure 24. Tangaroa,PolynesianGod of theOcean (seagod creating other gods and man). i8thor 19th century. Hollow wood closed at back withlid, height 44%". The British Museum, London.

and their surfaces show sophisticatedshapingby scraping and rubbing, probably by hand aswell as with tools. Portions of the body which

protrude,such as the nose, breasts,and abdo-men,were shaped in relief,and a knife blade

was used to etch the outlines of other parts of

the body. On the basis of certain of the finds,it is evident that at least some of these white-

marble figure sculptures were painted invarious colors on both the face and the body,thus supplying certain features omitted by thesculptor in his modeling. The fact that thesculpturescannot stand by themselves probablymeans that they were laid on their backs likethe dead, a pose that makes the folded armsappropriate.

One of the most powerful sculpturesof birth,probably made in the great Valley of Mexicoabout 1500 A.D., served the Aztec religion.Tlazolteotl,the goddessof childbirth and "Moth-er

of God," squats in the manner of AztecIndian women as she brings forth the god ofmaize (Fig. 23). The sculptor of this smallgreen-stone figure has chosen to show the

goddess as baring her teeth at the moment themale child emerges, so that the pain or violenceof birth is not concealed. The Aztecs were a

particularlyviolent people,whose priestsworethe skins of sacrificial victims to perform therites of this mother goddess.The sculpturemayalso have signifieda calendar change, indicat-ing

the birth of a specialtime period that theemerging male figureperhaps personified.

The concept of an all-powerfulcreator godor spiritarose long before the Judaeo-ChristianGod was firstworshiped.Some religionsforbadethe making of an image of their most importantgod; this proscriptionhas been generallytruein African cults and, variously, according toJewish, Moslem, and Christian religiousbeliefs.One of the most unusual works of art givingform to a supreme deityis also a unique sculp-ture

from its geographical area. Carved some-timein the eighteenth or nineteenth century

on one of the Austral Islands in the South

Pacific was the pale hardwood figureof Tanga-roa,a Polynesian sea god (Fig.24).According

to tradition,at the time when the world was

22 Purposes of Art

Left:Figure 25. Nimba Dance Headdress withCarrying Yoke, from Guinea (Baga,Simo Society).19thcentury (?).Wood, heightdfiV^"-The Museumof Primitive Art, New York.

Above: FigureWood, heightGhana.

26. Akuaba, Ashanti-styleDoll.10". Pepease Village, Kwanu,

in chaos, Tangaroa created gods and men.Although committed to a human figurefor hisgod, the unknown artist made of the heada great flat circular form, which like the smooth

expanses of the rest of the body may haveevoked associations with the sea. The god isshown giving birth to creatures that seem torise out of his body through its surface. Just asthey take their form from Tangaroa, by theirown placement they seem to define his features,being located where the god's eyes, nose, andmouth would be. The sculptureis hollow, andnot only are there figurescarved on its back, but

' other small figuresare found inside. The malegenitalsare attributes of the Polynesiansupremegod's creative power. What is amazing aboutthis sculptureis that it was made in a geogra-phical

area, where the figuraltradition was notstrong. Until some precedentfor it is discovered,

/ this work apparentlycontradicts the generaliza-tionin primitiveart that the sculptorinvariably

worked from some prototype.Along the Atlantic west coast of Africa in

French Guinea, the Baga peoples employ a

largeshoulder mask known as a nimba as protec-tionfor pregnant women (Fig.25). When the

mask is being worn, the body of the weareris covered by a raffia dress, and the carvedheadpieceitselfrests on the shoulders. Membersof a secret societyknown as the Simo societyare entrusted with carryingthe mask in cere-monies

while the women dance around it. The

raised ridgeon the head probably relates to thetribal hairdress. The large,protrudingnose is afertilitysymbol. When not being worn onceremonial occasions, the nimba is placed in ahut at a crossroads and set off by trees, whereit serves as protectionfor the village.It ispossiblethat the nimba represents the wife ofSimo, the great spiritfrom whom the culttakes itsname. Along with the nose, the swellingprofileof the nimba in generalmay also alludeto ripenessand fecundity.

As protectionfor the pregnant mother, toensure a good birth and a perfectchild, theAshanti peoples of Ghana use a small woodenfigurethat is constant in type but variable indetails (Fig.26).The lower part of the sculpture

Art as a Matter of Life and Death 23

is formed like a hand grip,and it was carried asa charm. The face is in the form of a disk,with stylizedhair rendered around the edgeand on the back, and indications of the eyesand nose are carved in relief. The mouth is

marked by a thin incision,and below there maybe a nob for the chin. There is a vague formal

resemblance to Cycladic sculptured heads,which are more pointedlyoval, but no possiblestylisticconnection. The ringedneck isattachedto the back of the head so that the disk of the

face is allowed to slant slightlyforward. Thebody, reduced to minimal indications of thebreasts and torso, ends just below the navel.Studies of the Ashanti peopleshelp us to accountfor the ringsof the neck, which are schematiza-tions of the rolls of fat considered desirable

among them. The Ashanti also shape the headsof their newborn children artificiallyto developbroad receding foreheads,thereby enhancing,in their eyes, beauty.

THE MYRIAD FACES

OF THE MASK

Halloween and other masquerade partiesre-mindus of what happens when a face mask is

worn. It permits us to assume a new identityemanating from the character of the maskitself.For some wearers, this is the occasion

for castingoff inhibitions and social responsi-bility.These possibilitiesof having fun, of

becoming another being and playing a newrole, are in some ways related to the various

purposes served by the mask throughout theworld in Stone Age cultures. Among tribalsocieties in Africa,the Northwest Coast Indians,and peoples of the South Pacific,the maskbecame and stillbecomes the symbol or locusof supernatural forces. The acts performed bythe mask or directives attributed to it carry the

authorityof a particularspiritor power. Thata face mask alone can embody supernaturalpower, without presentingthe entire figure,isexplainablebecause of the widespread beliefthat the head is the prime residence of suchpower. When movement is necessary for the

mask to fulfillits proper function, it is wornby a dancer as part of a ritual. Therefore, tosee masks hanging on museum walls is a distor-tion

of their originalpurpose. In most societies

important masks, when not in use, were en-shrinedas cult objects,kept out of sight,or

often destroyed.Although we tend to think ofthe variety possiblein human features asdepending upon individual differences evidentin livingpersons, primitivemasks that are notlikenesses of the livingmanifest a comparablerich variety.In addition,they demonstrate thestrong emotion and imaginationcalled upon tomake these supernaturalforces tangibleandimpressivein the eyes of their tribes.

More so than in our societyof today, maskshave had long and notable histories of fulfillingserious and varied functions for the living.Besides dealingspecificallywith religiouslife,they have been regarded as important agentsfor good by helpingto guarantee social order,fertilityof crops and herds, health, victoryinbattle,and desirable solutions to various othercrises in life,as well as to maintain a generalequilibriumamong the livingand the dead andthe spiritworld. Despitethe great number ofmasks in museums and privatecollections andthe appreciablestudy and writingdone on theirpurposes, there is still a great deal that we do

not know about their important and complexusages. Research in the field,among groupswhere masks are stillbeingmade and put to gen-uine

ritual use, depends on the memories andinterpretationsof tribe members and on how

Figure 27. Owl Mask, from Baining, NewBritain. Cane and bark cloth, height 3i34"-Museum fiir Volkerkunde, Basel.

14 Purposesof Art

ilii'

G3CCV"

"

OCO

s

feJ

o

in

Va

"J

"

w

z

hH"

"

fc

Above: Figure 28. Senufo "Fire Spitter"HelmetMask, from the Ivory Coast. Wood, length 35%".The Museum of Primitive Art, New York.

Right:Figure 29. Man Wearing Double HelmetMask with Costume, from central Senufo region(Nebunyonkaa Village),Ivory Coast. The Ethno-graphic

Museum, Antwerp.

much information must be keptsecret. Aside fromthe vital religiousand social role theycontinue toplay in many parts of the world, generalizationsabout masks are extremelydifficult to formulate.The followingselection of masks offers a meagersampling not only of the manifold purposesthey serve but also of the infinite ways inwhich they have been made and decorated.Tribal peoples know full well that masks arepaid for,what they are made of,and that theyare carved and worn by members of their owntribes. This knowledge would seem likelytoweaken the drama or potency of the masks;

yet this is not the case. Mask making is usuallydone in secret, the rituals attended with respect,and the mask bearer generallyconsidered tohave cast off his previousidentity.Wearing amask is not a license to shed social responsibility,however, and dancers or other performers inthe rites are carefullytrained to observe con-ventions

governingtheir movements and generalmien. By wearing a mask, a tribal member takeson a different and more important socialresponsibility,and he shares magically in thepower of the spiritor force he represents.

There are many types of masks having aprotective function. On the island of NewBritain,off the coast of New Guinea, an owl

mask made from cane and bark cloth is used

to give supernatural protection to children(Fig.27).Only the eyes obviouslyrelate to ourreal experience of an owl, but learning torecognize all that is meaningful in the artof this tribal societywould mean learningtheirformal (visual)language in the same way thatone would try to master their verbal language.The owl of the natural world has been assimi-lated

into, or transmuted by, certain artisticand tribal conventions compounded of symbolsand decoration. (Children must be taughtthatthis is an owl.) The radicallyasymmetricalstructure of the face is most disturbingin thelight of our acquaintance with any type ofhead; nor are we accustomed to art in whichonly a minimal resemblance to features orstructure is sufficient to conjure effectivelythepresence of an animal or a human.

The "Fire Spitter"helmet masks made by theSenufo tribes of the Ivory Coast have severalanimal derivations, none of which relates totheir actual purpose. The long-horned,open-jawed head with tusks (Fig.28) comes from thewater buffalo,the wart hog, the antelope,andthe crocodile. Hornbill birds symbolizing fertil-ity

perch between the horns. The open jawsgenerously fitted with teeth help to create a

Art as a Matter of Life and Death 25

"^"n-'m

Figure 30. Egu Orumamu Mask, from northernNigeria (eastern Igala Tribe). Carved c. 1940.Wood, height 23". Museum Jos, Nigeria.

Figure 31. Bambara Ancestor Figure,from Mali(Bougouni District).Wood, height 4.'%". TheMuseum of Primitive Art, New York.

ferocious apparition,for the mask is intentedto inspirefear. The "Fire Spitter"performs thefunction of driving off or destroying "souleating" spirits.Its sacred character is enforcedby the scrupulous treatment given it by thesecret-societymember who wears it and who ishidden behind a sacklike garment (Fig.29).Brought forth at night,the mask is worn hori-zontally

on top of the head so that the jaws andhorns are parallelto the ground. Sacrifices aremade to it by the villagersto ensure its goodwill. The mask wearer calls out incantations

and also blows sparksthrough the jaws of themask, or brandishes them about his person.Believed to have superhuman powers, becausehe has fused his being with the demon of themask, the mask wearer can also walk or sit onburning coals. As in many other areas ofAfrica, the "Fire Spitter"is used for variedfunctions,such as initiation rites for secret socie-ties,

funerals,and agriculturalceremonies.The widespread conversion of African tribes

to the rehgionsand legalsystems of the modemWestern world has created serious problems,some of which arise from loss of the power

previouslyinvested in sculpture.This transitioncan be understood more easilyfrom an exampleof a mask that had played a dominant role inthe civilproceduresof a Nigeriantribe presentlyundergoing Westernization. On one of manyfield tripsto Nigeria, the art historian RoySieber studied the purposes of Egu Orumamu,or the "chief of masks," among the eastern

Igalapeoples (Fig.30). In his studies showingits extensive use as an agent of social control,he wrote:

Its power apparentlyis derived from the ances-torsand it oversees the general well-beingof the

village.Certain of itsappearances, for instance,are related to agriculture.More pertinent.

. .

is itsjudicialrole in cases of murder and pettycivil offenses.

. .

Orumamu (hidden in a hut)arbitrated complaints and arguments of thewomen.

. .

usually of a financial nature.. .

Orumamu could send his minions to punishchildren who had gotten in trouble or to

supervisethe water supplyin times of shortage.

The Orumamu mask illustrated is not one of the

more beautiful African masks by our standards "or even among others of itstribe " but questions

26 Purposes of Art

of beauty were secondary to the guardianfunctions described above.

Some of the most striking African animal

carvings used as headdresses in rites for ensur-ingfertilityof the soil,ample rain, and goo