Blog Post #9 - Recap of Greek Art

            Throughout this course, I have enjoyed discovering and studying types of art that I had no knowledge of before, as well as relearning or delving deeper into styles that were familiar to me. I can say that I have definitely benefitted from the material covered in lecture, and the art from most eras is appealing to me. However (and I don’t mean to be predictable), Greek Art seems to grab my attention the majority of the time.
            Perhaps for the same reasons as Winckelmann—or not, but Greek sculpture is my weakness. In the summer of 2009, I visited Paris and toured many prestigious museums, including the Louvre. When observing the work from that era, I am baffled by the precision and strength of it all. It has been discussed over, but the white marble pieces seem to capture and portray the human form to accuracy I’ve never witnessed before. As in one of my earlier posts, I find the pristine white marble figures more mesmerizing over the intricately colored reconstructions, or how they might have appeared originally. For example, the “Archer” from the west pediment of the Temple of Aphaia has been worn of its color through the years, but even so, in my opinion it works better than the Vinzenz Brinkmann and Ulrike Koch-Brinkmann reconstruction of the Archer from 2004. The colored version is also quite impressive, but somewhat distracting; it takes away from the form of the sculpture.

            Another reason I believe the Greek’s art is so alluring is because the Golden Mean appears in their architecture and the structures of their sculptures many times over, much like the west façade of the Parthenon. When repeated in itself, the Golden Rectangle has relevance to the construction of the building and proportions are shared. This ratio can be seen everywhere in nature, and perhaps for that reason, is so intriguing and aesthetically pleasing to the eye. It also acts as a canon of proportions for some carved figures.

            The Hellenistic Period in particular is a favorite of mine from the Greek Era, partly because it is distinguishable from their creations before with the content of the pieces and the painstaking detail of form, but mainly expression. This period takes on a dynamic style unlike other periods, and it is shown in the Gigantomachy Frieze from the Altar of Pergamon. The section with Athena Attacking the Giants shows much more drama than other Greek art from the past. This dramatic scene is exaggerated by elements such as the diagonals used throughout the composition, extreme detail to form, and the intense emotion on the faces of the figures. The emotions are what are most engaging to me. They are more than appropriate for the scenes and are perfectly depicted, almost enough to make the viewer feel the same in relation. This is demonstrated also in the sculpture of Laocoön and His Sons. With the kinetic energy represented by the diagonals of the bodies and limbs, the powerful subject matter, strength of the forms, and severe flawless emotion, this work unifies to be one intensely dramatic scene.

Byzantine and Early Medieval Art

            During the decline of the Roman Empire and the upsweep of Byzantine and Early Medieval Art, society started becoming more reliant on religion, especially Christianity. Much of the art from this time depicts scenes from the Testaments and moves away from naturalism, like the Greeks and Romans had nearly perfected. Art from the Byzantine Era becomes more stylized than past art, which is unusual, because one would think that the beautiful naturalism of the earlier Greek and Romans would only progress. Two pieces in particular show this sort of stylization: “Presentation Page with Abbess Hitda and St. Walpurga” on page 450 and “Christ Washing the Feet of His Disciples, Aachen Gospels of Otto III“ on page 451.

            These works are very similar in their styles and unique in the way that they do not represent the human figure directly. Proportions are off and even the buildings in the background do not follow a specific structure. In the piece “Christ Washing the Feet of His Disciples,” we see elongated fingers, arms, and other appendages; the robes that drape over their bodies do not fold in a way that would be normal in the real world; and we don’t see anyone walking around with a halo. Also, I noticed that the man in the bottom left that is lifting his leg over the washbowl has a bend in his thigh that is unnatural. Even the colors in the sky are not relative to that of reality. The building on the background that is on a tower of some sort appears to be a kind of linear perspective, but it appears to be more toward the foreground than it should, making it seem small in relation to the characters in the piece. In all, the style has somewhat of a geometric feel to it, especially the buildings. The forms of the figures are less organic than that of a real human. However, there are many long, smooth, curvy lines used as well.

            In the piece “Presentation Page with Abbess Hitda and St. Walpurga,” the forms seem to have a lot more freedom. The buildings in the background follow no perspective, but are also quite geometrical. However, many organic shapes and designs are shown inside of these, as well as throughout the piece (such as the pedestal on which St. Walpurga stands). The figures appear to have more accurate proportions than that of the other piece, yet there are still minor cases where they are off. For instance, the feet of the characters are way too small for the rest of their bodies. So much that it hardly looks like they could support themselves. Another element of this piece that gives it its style is the use of bold lines. They are used throughout: on the buildings, the backdrop behind the characters, the saint’s halo, and the border especially. Also, the small details throughout are very uniform and bring the whole piece together nicely. These would be the designs around the border, in the buildings, on the pedestal, the robes of the figures, and even the writing around the saint can be seen as an addition to these forms.

Ancient Roman Emperors - Commodus/Caracalla

            During the period of Ancient Rome, art was used for several purposes. This included the promotion of leaders through statues, figures, and paintings—propaganda. Two figures that will be analyzed in particular achieve this exhibit of power through their appearance: the bust of Commodus as Hercules, and the portrait head of Caracalla. Both of these men were former emperors of Ancient Rome. Commodus reined from 180 to 192 CE, and Caracalla from 209 to 217 CE. To gain respect and institute their leadership, the figures must display a sense of greatness.

            The bust of Commodus as Hercules is a beautiful statue and represents exactly what a leader would want. Instead of sporting a typical emperor’s garb, Commodus’ figure wears a lion’s pelt draped over his head with the paws tied across his chest. Lion’s have been previously discussed as being animals of power, especially in Ancient Near Eastern Art. They pose a hostile threat, being the dangerous creatures they are, and so if one is to essentially control or kill a lion, they appear more powerful and therefore more respected. Commodus also holds some sort of club in his right hand. This might also be a representation of his power; simply by wielding a weapon he could gain respect through fear. It is also possible that this is the club he used to defeat the lion. In his other hand appears to be some offering of food. The motive behind this could be to show that he can provide for his people and meet the demands of the society he runs. His hair was formed in a stylized manner, including his beard, which emits a sense of wisdom with its neatness and presentation of his age. Commodus has a modest expression on his face. Not one of intimidation, much like Caracalla’s. His form is also very clean and muscular. This might prove that he was a gentle man, but ran his empire with an iron fist.

            The portrait head of Caracalla is difficult to discern, because there is not much to work with. However, he wears a very stern expression. Emphasis is given to his furrowed brow, cheeks, and jaw line, almost as if he was clenching his teeth. He has a slight frown, which adds to his portrayed anger as well. There is a depth to his eyes that gives an impression that he has no fear. As said before, the portrait gives a sense of intimidation. It is a very effective piece for how little of it there is, and in return, is incredibly impressive.
            I believe anyone who viewed these works would have a similar reaction and understand that these men were held in high regard or were important individuals. They certainly come across that way to me, and the ways in which they accomplish their campaign make them appear to have been very solid leaders. Both of these creations are remarkably striking in their portrayals and exhibit the strength and power that an emperor of the time should have.

Greek Art and Winckelmann

            Johann Joachim Winckelmann lived in the 18^th century and studied Greek Art. He was naïve to the notion that Greek statues were originally painted, but hailed their work how we know it today—pure white marble. Winckelmann promoted “good taste” in art and believed that Greek marble statues epitomized the beauty and perfection he was trying to pinpoint.
            I don’t think that it was necessarily a bad thing for Winckelmann to shape a false view of beauty to his followers, because I believe he was right. I can’t say that his view swayed me, because I was unaware of his existence until now. However, in modern society at least, simplicity is key. Sometimes the simplest forms of art are the most beautiful. The white marble statues were not the intent of the Greeks, but they are not trying to make up for anything, and they were complete as far as Winckelmann and myself knew. Much like in graphic design, white space is elemental and basic. It relieves unnecessary clutter and business that distracts the eye and results in a clean final product. For example, the “Archer” from the west pediment of the Temple of Aphaia has been worn of its paint. Vinzenz Brinkmann and Ulrike Koch-Brinkmann built a reconstruction in 2004 of what the statue might have looked like before it lost its color. When comparing the two, the color statue becomes much more distracting to me. It becomes less art and more like a giant doll due to the vivacity of its appearance, and it loses more of its form. I’m not saying that color isn’t beautiful, but sometimes it isn’t needed. The anatomy of the original is much easier to see with the shadows on a solid color; so in subtracting the color, form and simplicity is added.

            My perception of the Greeks has changed only slightly after coming to learn that their statues were originally painted, because I admired the ingenuity of the pristine white marble. I thought that the Greeks might have left color out for the exact reason as I explained before—to keep the form strong. It made sense to me, since the Greeks respected the human form and held it in high regard.

            I do not believe that art would be produced differently today because of the beliefs and actions of one man. However, I am sure that he had a great impact. I actually think that art might have moved in the direction it did anyway, since we are learning more and more about what is aesthetically pleasing in its terms. Besides, art is a form of self-expression. How can one express themselves and their original ideas if their perceptions have been altered by the beliefs of another? To me, a large part of art is about being different, and in order to do that, one must disagree on things. If Winckelmann hadn’t promoted his stance on the perfection of Greek Art then somebody else might have, and there would still be people to disagree with them as well.