Translated from the German by Max Marmor
(Translator's note: The following essay first appeared
in the original German exactly forty years ago as the
chapter on "Kunstliteratur" in the admirable Atlantisbuch
der Kunst: eine Enzyklopädie der bildenden Künste
(Zurich: Atlantis Verlag, 1952), pp. 665-679. It remains our
most succinct historical survey of "the literature of art,"
and while the author modestly regards it as "pre-historic,"
informed students know it rather as a classic. The present
translation, produced for the use of new students at the
Institute of Fine Arts, has been revised by Professor
Gombrich (while on summer holiday in the Austrian Alps!) and
appears here with his generous consent. No attempt has been
made to bring the story--which ends with André
Malraux at mid-century- -down to the present; but at the
author's request, a selective list of sources available in
English translation has been substituted for the summary
bibliography that accompanied the original version of this
essay. That bibliography appears as a separate document on
this home page.
Note: This translation was first published in Art
Documentation, vol. 11 no. 1, Spring 1992.
By the literature of art we mean, on the one hand, the
older body of writings on art, that is, technical textbooks
for artists, handbooks and guidebooks for connoisseurs,
biographies of artists and the philosophy of art prior to
the evolution of the scholarly and scientific study of art
[Kunstwissenschaft] as an independent
discipline; and, on the other hand, more recent art
literature insofar as it makes no claim to scholarly or
scientific status.
All branches of the literature of art were cultivated in
antiquity although, of course, only a fragment of
this body of writing has survived. The technical textbook on
architecture is Vitruvius' Ten Books on Architecture (De
Architectura Libri X), from the age of Augustus. In them
posterity found not only instructions concerning the
classical orders, city planning and temple forms, theater
acoustics and the construction of engines of war, but above
all the advocacy of a profound theoretical education of the
architect, combined with elevated claims to social standing.
Though based in many ways upon Greek sources (which he
occasionally cites), Vitruvius' is the independent book of a
Roman, as his disparaging judgement of the decorative
"grotesques" of his day, for example, shows. His influence
upon posterity, especially upon Renaissance art literature,
cannnot be estimated too highly. The biography of artists,
which seems ultimately to derive from the Greek writer Duris
of Samos (4th cent. B.C.), survives almost exclusively in
excerpts incorporated by Pliny the Elder (d. 79 A.D.) in his
Natural History. Books 35 and 36 provide a survey of
sculptors, silversmiths and painters in connection with a
treatment of stones, metals and earths. Many of the
anecdotes that Pliny relates have become famous--for
example, about the contest of Zeuxis and Parrhasios or about
Apelles (whence the phrase "stick to your last"). But more
important is the fact that Pliny describes the history of
painting and sculpture as the story of a steady progression
to a time of maturity and subsequent decline. In so doing,
he set the example for nearly all subsequent art historical
writing. Altogether, the influence of these brief chapters
upon Renaissance painting was scarcely slighter than that of
Vitruvius upon architecture: the critical judgements which
he hands down were applied and transferred again and again
to other artists.
Genuinely philosophical writings on art may have been
known in antiquity (Xenocrates, 3rd cent. B.C.), but none
has survived. We are reliant upon the pertinent passages in
the philosophers, among whom Plato, of course, dismissed the
visual arts as sensory deception while Aristotle held them
in low esteem because of their character as crafts. In this
connection, it is important to clarify that our concept of
art was foreign to antiquity and that the word usually so
rendered--techne, i.e. ars--really means any
manner of skill.
More instructive are the comparisons which orators such
as Quintilian drew between rhetoric and painting. Here we
find already the roots of the notion of "style" in the
visual arts.
A classical guidebook is Pausanias' (2nd cent. A.D.)
guide to Greece. He offers not only many local legends but
also detailed descriptions of such sights as, for example,
the Olympian Zeus of Phidias or the frescoes of Polygnotos
at Delphi. The value of these accounts to archaeologists is
obvious.
As the final genre of classical art literature there
remains to be considered the poetic or theoretical
description of (real or fictive) works of art, the so-called
"ekphrasis." The numerous epigrams about classical works of
art in the Greek Anthology, the descriptions of paintings in
the Eikones (Imagines) of the younger Philostratos
(3rd cent. A.D.) and in numerous dialogues by Lucian (2nd
cent. A.D.) kindled the imagination of the Renaissance to
reconstruct the lost works, and still enthralled Goethe.
These poetic descriptions of pictures constitute an
essential component of medieval art literature both
in the Greek East and in the Latin West. Noteworthy examples
are Paulos Silentiarios' (6th cent.) descriptions of the
Hagia Sophia or Baudre de Bourgeuil's (beginning of the 12th
cent.) rendering of a pictorial tapestry, which recalls the
Bayeux Tapestry. For the rest, medieval art literature knew
above all technical instructions for the use of artists,
first of all collections of directions for the mixing of
colors and alloys. In addition to the didactic poem of
Heraclius from the 10th century (?), Theophilus' early
12th-century Essay on the Various Arts (Schedula
diversarum artium) is important. The so-called
Painter's Manual of Mount Athos, a recipe book of the
Greek East that also contains precise prescriptions for the
illustration of sacred history and legends, survives only in
an 18th century version. For French Gothic, Villard de
Honnecourt's (13th cent.) sketchbook should be mentioned, in
which the master hopes to pass on to his successors the
practical experiences of his life as an artist. On the
threshold of the Renaissance stands the treatise (Libro
dell'arte) of Cennino Cennini (ca. 1400), who quite
consciously commits to paper the workshop tradition of the
Florentine school of painting of Giotto and his followers.
Alongside these practical aids, the Middle Ages also knew
travel guides for pilgrims to the Holy Land and to Rome, the
so- called Mirabilia, in which the works of art of
antiquity, draped in legend like the Horsetamers of the
Quirinal, are discussed. Most informative, however, are the
accounts and biographies of the great master builders, above
all the memoir of Abbot Suger from the 12th century on the
renovation of the abbey church of St. Denis, the first
monument of the Gothic. Though scarcely belonging to the
literature of art in the genuine sense, this kind of source
offers the best insight into medieval views of the essence
and tasks of art. Of the biography of artists or the
philosophy of art the Middle Ages knew nothing.
Renaissance. The beginnings of modern art
literature must be sought in 15th-centuryFlorence, that is
in the milieu in which the new artistic concept of
scientific naturalism pressed for a theoretical foundation.
It is, above all, the humanist and architect Leon Battista
Alberti (1404-1472) whose contributions to the literature of
art remained exemplary for centuries. His writing On
Painting (De pictura), written ca. 1435 in Latin and in
its Italian version dedicated to the pioneer of Renaissance
architecture and perspective, Filippo Brunelleschi, is
expressly envisioned as the programmatic text of a new
generation. The flourishing of art in his native city--we
read in the dedication--has persuaded Alberti that great
accomplishments are just as possible now as in admired
antiquity. For Alberti the new painting is a science; it
rests upon the laws of optics and geometry. A picture is
basically a "section through the visual pyramid," the frame
a "window." Alberti dismisses the motley, multi- figured
pictures of the Gothic with their expenditure of gold and
jewels in favor of a classical artistic ideal of dignity
("decorum") and significance ("invenzione"). The whole
tendency of his text is to distinguish art from craft, to
make of it an aspect of culture.
Alberti's text on architecture (De re aedificatoria, ca.
1450), divided into ten books in close accordance with
Vitruvius, attempts to place architecture, too, upon a
theoretical, even philosophical foundation. Thus, for
example, his view that the temple of God (as Alberti calls
churches) requires the most perfect form, the circle, has
its roots in platonism. It found its application in
Bramante's St. Peter, even as much of Alberti's art theory
came to full realization only in the High Renaissance.
The manuscripts (Commentarii) of the sculptor
Lorenzo Ghiberti were only published in the 20th century,
though they were known to the Renaissance. Ghiberti, too, is
above all concerned with the theoretical foundations of art,
seeking help from Vitruvius, Pliny and from the Arabic and
medieval writers on optics. But for us the principal value
of his drafts lies in the few pages in which he speaks of
the art of his predecessors and of his own life's work--the
first stirrings of autobiography in the arts and of a
critically evaluative art history, drawing on firsthand
experience.
In the case of the writings of Antonio Averlino, called
Filarete (ca. 1460), the master of the bronze doors of St.
Peter, we have to do with an architectural treatise in the
form of a utopian city plan, which throws much light upon
the aspirations and strivings of the period. Among the
theorizing artists of the Quattrocento, Piero della
Francesca with his purely geometrical treatise on
perspective (De prospectiva pingendi) and Francesco
di Giorgio's manuscript on architecture (ca. 1480) are
outstanding. Luca Pacioli's characteristic book On Divine
Proportion, i.e. the Golden Section (De divina
proportione, 1509)--a theme dear to the heart of the
neoplatonic mysticism of the Renaissance-- is once again
applied geometry. Another side of classical erudition,
physiognomics, gains currency in the strange treatise on
sculpture by the North Italian Pomponius Gauricus (De
sculptura, 1504).
These artists' writings lead to the imposing figure of
Leonardo da Vinci, whose contributions to the literature of
art already belong, for the most part, to the early 16th
century. Leonardo's writings and notes, too, long remained
in manuscript. To be sure, already shortly after his death
an industrious compiler brought together those passages from
his posthumous papers dealing with painting and combined
them into a Treatise on Painting (Trattato della
pittura); but this important manuscript, which also
preserves much that is no longer to be found in Leonardo's
own notes, was only edited and published in the 17th century
in France. For Leonardo, too, painting is a science and
indeed--as he sought to prove in his Paragone or
Competition- -the mother of all sciences and arts. He sees
in the artist the creator of a "microcosm" which must rest
upon the same laws as the universe. Thus for Leonardo the
study of the laws of nature is inseparably bound up with
creative art, and at bottom his writings on anatomy,
embryology, geology and optics belong to the literature of
art as much as does his more specific advice for the
praticing artist. Repeated attempts to play off Leonardo the
artist against Leonardo the scientist depend upon a
misunderstanding.
Contemporary with Leonardo--and perhaps not uninfluenced
by his endeavors-- appeared the first artists' writings of
the Northern Renaissance, Albrecht Dürer's Manual of
Measurement (Unterweysung der Messung, 1515) and
Four Books on Human Proportion (Vier Bücher
von menschlicher Proportion, 1528). Dürer is
concerned with the fundamental problem of the age, the
establishment of a scientific theory of art. In this he
shared his contemporaries' confidence that it must be
possible to harness the geometrical construction of the
accurate visual image in perspective with a theory of the
beautiful human image that could be taught mathematically.
Dürer's struggle with these problems is most evident in
his manuscript drafts, which again and again revolve around
the sentence: "What beauty is I know not."
It is precisely these philosophical speculations that
lend the art treatises of the Renaissance their special
character. From the outset it was a matter of circumscribing
the activity of the artist and furnishing a philosophical
basis for his claim to social recognition. In the course of
the 16th century we find not only artists but also literary
figures occupied with working out this new concept of "art."
We stand on the threshold of academic art theory. The word
"academic" itself points to the roots of these efforts. It
designates the school of Plato and in fact Plato is now
made, as it were, into a patron saint of painters, despite
his dismissal of the visual arts (see above). The
neoplatonic theory of divine "ecstasy," in which the oracle,
poet and lover is by grace given to behold the heavenly
primordial images, is transferred to the artist. He, too,
boasts divine inspiration and the capacity to behold with
the eyes of the spirit the Idea of Beauty. The concept of
"fine arts," to be strictly distinguished from the applied
arts, stems from the milieu of this platonizing art theory;
it is to be sought above all in the Florence of mid-century,
in which scholars such as Benedetto Varchi, who pronounced
the eulogy for Michelangelo at the latter's funeral,
consciously set about "elevating" art, whereby they helped
assure the victory of so- called "Mannerism." The
characteristic monuments of "mannerist" art theory, though,
are the writings of the Milanese painter Paolo Lomazzo,
blind at an early age, his Treatise on Painting
(Trattato dell'arte della pittura, 1584) and Idea
of the Temple of Painting (Idea del tempio della
pittura, 1590). Here we find the academic theory of the
great "exemplary" masters and schools (above all
Michelangelo, Leonardo, Raphael and Titian) and an interest
in learned themes of painting, suited to this milieu. The
mirage (stemming from antiquity) of a "perfect" work of art,
uniting the merits of all schools, is also treated at
length.
Linked to this esteem for the "learned" artist and his
gift for invention is the fact that handbooks on mythology
and allegory, originally intended primarily for writers,
were drawn increasingly into the orbit of the literature of
art. To be sure, the Middle Ages already knew the so- called
"Albricus" (13th cent.), a brief list of descriptions of the
classical gods and how they should be depicted, but only the
age of Mannerism witnessed the success of Vincenzo Cartari's
handbook on the depiction of the classical deities, full of
allegorical mystery-mongering (Le imagini colla
sposizione degli dei degli antichi, 1556). The
popularity of the so-called hieroglyphs, upon which a
philosophical secret sense was imposed in an apocryphal late
antique writing by Horapollo (printed 1505) and which even
enthralled Dürer, belongs here too. The humanist Piero
Valeriano devoted to them the most comprehensive book
(Hieroglyphica, 1556), which for its own part
influenced late Renaissance symbolism. The handbook destined
for the greatest diffusion, Cesare Ripa's Iconologia
of 1593, leads into our next section.
The growing emphasis in the literature of art upon
classical learning can also be traced in architectural
theory, which was already given a philosophical coloring by
Alberti (see above). Now for the first time the "five
orders" and their proportions achieve canonical status. Here
the architectural and model books of Serlio (after 1537),
Vignola (1562), Palladio (1570) and Scamozzi (1615) are most
significant. They contributed significantly to the spreading
awareness of Italian Renaissance forms throughout Europe.
Above all, the influence of Palladio's book in the
Protestant North, especially in England, is well-known.
From the 16th century onward, a series of smaller
writings and dialogues on art, which often provide valuable
testimony to the taste of the age, accompanies these
authoritative works. Thus Francesco de Hollanda's four
Portuguese dialogues on painting (1548), in which
Michelangelo appears as a discussant, which of course does
not mean that these are transcripts of real conversations.
More valuable as a source, perhaps, is Lodovico Dolce's
dialogue Aretino (1557), in which the unscrupulous
journalist and friend of Titian appears in the role of the
critic, who plays off Venetian color against the drawing of
the Roman school and, above all, Michelangelo- - a theme
that was to retain its currency for a long time.
The increasing flood of guidebooks for art lovers in the
Italian Renaissance testifies to the same public
participation in questions of taste. At the outset we find
Albertini's guidebooks to Florence and Rome (both 1510) with
their important lists of art works. Next come such writings
as Sansovino's book on the sights of Venice (Delle cose
notabile in Venetia, 1556) and Bocchi's on the beauties
of Florence (Bellezze de Fiorenza, 1581). Leandro
Alberti's guide to the whole of Italy (Descrittione di
tutta Italia) appeared in 1550. Even more important than
these printed works are the notes of a North Italian
amateur, the so- called Anonimo Morelliano, who may
be presumed to be the Venetian nobleman Marcantonio Michiel.
These are notes from the third and fourth decades of the
16th century on the works of art in the churches and palaces
of Padua and Venice. Here a genuinely cultivated connoisseur
writes on the basis of firsthand experience. We owe to him,
among other things, the few reliable reports of the work of
Giorgione.
The biography of artists in the Renaissance is
only intelligible against this background. Ultimately, of
course, it is rooted in the longing for fame which,
nourished by classical antiquity, is characteristic of the
entire age. In Dante's Divina Commedia, the fading of
Cimabue's fame vis- à- vis Giotto's appears as a
moral exemplum of the vanity of earthly fame, but already in
the 14th century commentators on Dante append to this
passage a colorful anecdotal account of the relationship of
the the two "patriarchs" of Florentine art. In Boccaccio's
Decameron (ca. 1350), too, Giotto appears as "one of
the lights of Florentine fame," and soon the novella availed
itself of the figure of the artist as a stock character. The
first indication of the artist emerging alongside the
scholar and the statesman in his claim to fame is found in
the short work of Filippo Villani on famous Florentines
(prior to 1400), in which the writer, to be sure, still
believes himself called upon to justify allotting Giotto,
Gaddi and others a place despite the fact that many do not
recognize painting as a "liberal art." Still more
interesting is the work of the humanist Bartolommeo Fazio
(d. 1457) on famous men of his time (De viris
illustribus), composed in Naples shortly after mid-
century, for it includes not only such Italian artists as
Gentile da Fabriano and Pisanello but also Netherlandish
artists, above all Jan van Eyck and Rogier van der Weyden- -
long before such personal honors became possible in their
own country. Similar in character are the early 16th-
century eulogies of Bishop Giovio, in which the art of
Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo is characterized in the
economical but suggestive style of the humanists.
But only in Florence did a solid tradition of the
biography of artists evolve, closely entwined with the local
patriotism of the city on the Arno. Thus the humanist
Cristoforo Landino, who prefaces his 1481 printed edition of
Dante with an "Apology for Florence," offers a survey of the
artists of Florence as one of his native city's claims to
fame. Here already is manifest the notion that "art" owes
its "rebirth" to the Florentines Cimabue and Giotto and that
its further flourishing also followed in Florence. At about
the same time, the first extensive biography of a single
artist appeared, the Vita of Brunelleschi attributed
to Manetti (1423- 1491), which despite its polemical stance
(especially against Ghiberti) yet places its hero in a broad
historical perspective: it is Brunelleschi who resurrected
the architecture of the ancients, destroyed by the "Goths."
In the 16th century, more local Florentine patriots seem
intent upon recording still- living traditions about the
artists of their ancestral city. One manuscript of this type
is the so- called Libro di Antonio Billi, another the
Anonymus Magliabecchianus. They are valuable to us
because they show the milieu out of which the most important
work of Renaissance biography of artists grew: Vasari's
Lives (Le vite de' piu eccelenti architetti, pittori et
scultori etc.).
Vasari's book- - which first appeared in 1550 and in a
second, much expanded edition in 1568- - is perhaps the most
famous, and even today the most- read work of the older
literature of art. His portrayals of his characters and his
art of pragmatically linking individual episodes are still
influential. It has not been difficult for critical
documentary scholarship to demonstrate that Vasari is a
highly unreliable witness, especially for the early
Renaissance, that he often invents freely, and that, even
when he writes on the basis of firsthand experience, he is
subject to amazing confusions. And yet praise and blame of
the work are too often directed at specifics, overlooking
the achievement of its construction of history, in which, of
course, previous generations also had a part. Vasari
expressly protests (in the introduction to Part Two) against
being judged as a mere chronicler. He was concerned with
deriving instruction from history, with showing young
painters how application and talent bring success, and above
all with accounting for the flourishing of art after
Cimabue. He expressly places Michelangelo, as the only
living figure, at the end and, simultaneously, at the summit
of his first edition, for to him the history of art is a
story of progress from modest beginnings, through the worthy
but somewhat dry masters of the "second manner" (of the
Quattrocento), to the triumph of the third and perfect
artistic manner, introduced by Leonardo.
As early as Vasari one notes a faint fear (perhaps
another link with Pliny) that from such a summit only
decline can follow (preface to Part Three). Vasari writes as
a Medici court artist from the milieu of the first
academicians (see above). His prejudices, his hope of
currying favor with the ruling house, his superficialities
are obvious enough. And yet even today art history remains
under his spell. The very chapter divisions of our handbooks
go back, for the most part, to his example. He owes this
success not merely to his genuinely Tuscan energy as a
storyteler, but above all to his capacity for seeing the
evolution of three centuries as a whole.
Perhaps only Benvenuto Cellini's (1500- 1572)
autobiography (first printed 1728), which in Goethe's
translation has become a part of German literature, measures
up to Vasari in popularity. As a portrait of an age and a
personality of the declining Renaissance, it is unsurpassed,
though it is dangerous to generalize from the conditions
depicted there. Much inferior in literary worth, but of
greater interest due to its subject, is Ascanio Condivi's
Life of Michelangelo of 1553, which appeared during
the master's lifetime and was probably directly inspired by
him, perhaps with the intention of suppressing the richly
imaginative biography in Vasari's first edition. Vasari then
reciprocated by consigning Condivi to oblivion in his second
edition.
The art literature of the Baroque and Classicism,
i.e. of the 17th and 18th centuries, stands entirely under
the spell of previous Italian literature. To draw a line of
demarcation between the Renaissance and the following period
is difficult, yet in general it may be said that art lovers
and amateurs, together with the officially sponsored
academies, fundamentally determined the character of art
literature during these centuries. In Italy the platonizing
theory of art achieved, as it were, canonical status. It
found its ultimate formulation in Giovanni Pietro Bellori's
(1615- 1696) famous academic lecture concerning the Idea of
painting, sculpture and architecture (delivered 1664). The
friend of Poussin and admirer of Raphael here sets down the
articles of faith made famous by Gotthold Ephraim Lessing's
Emilia Galotti (dialogue with the painter Conti):
"Art must paint as creative Nature- - if there is one- -
conceived the picture: without the defects which the
refractory matter unavoidably causes; without the corruption
with which time wages war upon it." A second
leitmotiv of Italian art literature in this period is
the Counter- Reformation, which after the Council of Trent
watched over the artist's activity to see that nothing
immoral or harmful to the faith invaded art. Cardinal
Paleotti's book on sacred and profane painting (Discorso
intorno le imagini sacre e profane, 1582) and the
treatise on painting and sculpture by Ottonelli and Pietro
da Cortona (Trattato della pittura e scultura, 1652)
provide interesting information about the spirit of
ecclesiastical art in this period and its sharp reaction to
the carefree attitude of the Renaissance regarding such
matters. In the biography of artists, the 17th century
brings a whole series of continuations of Vasari, in which a
polemic against the great model is rarely wanting. Baglione
treats the artists active in Rome from 1572- 1642 (Le
vite de' pittori, scultori ed architetti etc.); on a
higher plane, Bellori (see above) treats the lives of the
most important artists of his time (Le vite de' pittori,
scultori ed architetti moderni, 1672), describing
artists of the "academic" tendency- - the Carracci,
Domenichino, Poussin- - with special affection, but also
doing justice to such naturalists as Caravaggio and Rubens.
The Lives of Passeri, only published later from manuscripts
(Le vite de' pittori, scultori ed architetti etc.),
are presented as a continuation of Baglione and treat
artists active in Rome 1641- 1673. Most significant as a
historian is Filippo Baldinucci who, important also as an
investigator of documents and a collector, was the first in
Italy to describe Rembrandt's prints. His accounts of the
masters of the art of drawing, too (Notizie de'
professori del disegno da Cimabue in qua etc.), were
published in part posthumously, 1681- 1728. His biography of
Bernini (1682) is the most important source on this dominant
master of the age of the Baroque.
In conscious opposition to Vasari, whom they accuse of
Florentine bias, stand several Italian local historians. For
Venice, Carlo Ridolfi's Wonders of Art (Maraviglie
dell'arte, 1648) should be mentioned. Malvasia (Felsina
Pittrice, 1678) took Bologna's part and did not shrink from
falsification in order to underscore the greatness of the
art of his native city in comparison with others. Most
vexing in this respect is the Neapolitan B. de' Domenici,
who in his biographical work (Vite de' pittori etc.,
1742), did not hesitate to invent artists in order to
promote his city's fame. That local literature and
guidebooks for connoisseurs multiplied by leaps and bounds
under these circumstances goes without saying. To recite
them individually is impossible; as a curiosity Boschini's
rhyming Picturesque Sea- Chart of Venice (Carta
del navegar pitoresco, 1660), composed in the Venetian
dialect, may be mentioned.
Outside Italy the 17th century is, above all, the period
of the reception of Italian art theory. Italian authors,
especially Vasari but also Lomazzo (see above) and the
architectural theorists, are translated and incorporated
into other works. Thus the art literature of the North
almost everywhere reflects one- sidedly the standpoint of
the classical tradition. Interest in art literature first
takes hold in the Belgian Netherlands. The most important
witness for the early period is Karel van Mander's
comprehensive text, The Painter's Book (Het
Schilderboek, 1604), which consists of an extensive
didactic poem and three books of artists' biographies. The
first is borrowed from Pliny, the second from Vasari, while
the third is a most valuable source for the Netherlandish
masters- - the first such, if we disregard the brief lists
in Guicciardini's description of the Netherlands
(Descrittione di tutti i Paesi Bassi, 1567) and the
conventional encomia which accompany the 1572 portrait
series of Lampsonius. Van Mander appends to his book a
survey of classical mythology based on Ovid, "the Bible of
poets." To Rembrandt's generation in Holland belongs S. van
Hoegstraeten's Introduction to the High School of the Art
of Painting (Inleyding tot de Hooge Schoole der
Schilderkonst, 1641), which despite all its Baroque
bombast offers richly informative reports. The masters of
Holland's Golden Age found their "Vasari" at last in
Houbraken, whose Great Theater (Groote
Schouburgh, 1718), to be sure, scarcely bears comparison
with its Italian model. Gerard de Lairesse's Great Book
of Painting (Het Groot Schilderboek, 1707) is
entirely committed to the academic theoretical edifice.
In Germany- - aside from Neudörfer's short text,
Reports of Nuremberg Artists and Masters
(Nachrichten von Nürnberger Künstlern und
Werkmeister, 1547) and such brief textbooks as
Scheffer's Graphice of 1669- - only Joachim von
Sandrart's German Academy of the Noble Arts of
Architecture, Sculpture and Painting (Teutsche
Academie der Edlen Bau-, Bild-und Mahlerey- Künste,
1675) is worthy of mention. Even this folio volume is a
compendium of earlier art literature; Vasari, van Mander,
Palladio and others are eagerly utilized. The most valuable
part consists of the accounts of German artists and of those
artists whom Sandrart himself encountered on his many
travels. Among the former belongs the account of
"Mathäus Grünewald," which apparently rests upon a
confusion with Mathis Gotthart Nithart and which deprived
this master of his proper name. Among the latter belong
several lively portraits from the German artists' colony in
Rome, where Sandrart was also in touch with Claude Lorrain
and Elsheimer.
Of Spanish art literature--in addition to Guevara, the
16th-century editor of Pliny who also attests to Hieronymus
Bosch's fame in Spain- -Francisco Pacheco's Art of
Painting (Arte de la pintura, 1649) should, above
all, be mentioned; in it, besides the common property of
European art theory, we also find an account of Velazquez,
the author's son- in-law. Palomino's Museum of
Painting (El museo pictorico, 1715) already
belongs to the18th century.
16th-century England is represented only by a fragmentary
Lomazzo translation and Nicholas Hillyard's manuscript on
the technique of miniature painting (both 1598). The 17th
century, too, has little original to offer, Aglionby's
Painting Illustrated (1685) being based primarily on
Vasari. By contrast, France in the 17th century developed a
comprehensive art literature intimately connected to the
newly-founded Academy. Roland Fréart de Chambray
breathes the spirit of Cartesian rationalism in his work on
the idea of perfection in painting as demonstrated by the
principles of art (Idée de la perfection de la
peinture demonstrée par ses principes etc.,
1662). Equally characteristic are the academic lectures of
Félibien (Conférences; delivered 1667),
whose collected writings on art embrace six volumes. Though
a convinced classicist, Félibien yet seeks to do
justice to the works of the French Middle Ages. One of the
most-read summaries of the teachings of academic classicism
is Dufresnoy's didactic poem on painting (De arte graphica,
1667), often translated and published with commentaries.
Among artists' writings from this milieu, Le Brun's lecture
on the portrayal of the affects (1667) is noteworthy. It
again treats human passions and their characteristic facial
expressions in Cartesian terms and typifies the principles
of academic history painting. Le Brun also studied
physiognomics, with its comparison between human beings and
animals.
The first opposition to academic dogmas arose during the
same period. In the battle between Poussinistes and
Rubenistes, the writer on art Roger de Piles stood by the
latter. In his dialogue on color (Dialogue sur le
coloris, 1699), he takes sides with the Venetians
against the Roman school, as Dolce had previously done (see
above). His interest in Dutch artists and in the genre of
landscape, so little esteemed by the academicians, marks him
as the prophet of a new age. For in the 18th century it is
above all the collectors who determine the shape of art
literature, and their standards of value are less rigorous
than those of the philosophers of art. The influence of
empiricist philosophy, with its opposition to platonic
Idealism, also makes itself felt, especially in England.
Among French rationalists and skeptics, the Abbé del
Bos, who subjected the ideals of the Academy to a sharp
critique, is preeminent; also Denis Diderot, whose famous
accounts of the Paris Salons 1765- 67 (printed in 1798)
introduce the age of journalistic art criticism. His
advocacy of the bourgeois-moralistic paintings of a Greuze
show him as a pioneer and champion of the ideals of the
middle class. The sculptor Falconet even took it upon
himself to criticize famous antiquities; Goethe, in his
youthful work "Von Falconet und Über Falconet,"
followed consciously in his footsteps.
Of still greater significance on a theoretical level is
the art literature of 18th-century England. To be sure, the
popular writings of Jonathan Richardson (father and son)
still show the influence of academic art theory, albeit
softened by the tolerance of the traveler and collector. But
in Hogarth's writing on art, The Analysis of Beauty
(1753), a position of opposition to the academic tradition
is openly assumed. Although Hogarth borrowed his theory of a
"line of beauty" from Lomazzo (see above), his position is
yet, in spite of its naïvété, entirely
psychologico-empirical. Reynolds, too, whose academic
lectures (Discourses, 1771) pay tribute to inherited
art theory, makes many observations that transcend this
position. But above all, the magnum opus of
anti-metaphysical aesthetics must be mentioned here, Edmund
Burke's A Philosophical Enquiry into the origin of our
ideas of the Sublime and the Beautiful (1756), which
also stimulated Kant.
The English aesthetic, based on a purely sensual, indeed
associationist foundation, culminated in the debates on the
essence of the "picturesque," especially in garden design,
in which Richard Payne Knight represented the standpoint
that the "picturesque" is that which reminds us of paintings
previously seen. Perhaps only in the context of this
conscious opposition to dogma can we understand how,
precisely in England, the autonomous validity of the Gothic
and even the Chinese style was first recognized. Pioneer and
champion of the former was the antiquary Horace Walpole
(1717- 1797), the author of the first romance of chivalry
and ghost story; the popularizer of the latter, especially
Chinese garden design, was William Chambers (1726-
1796).
In German art literature the heritage of academic
classicism is more powerfully in evidence. To be sure, a
Hagedorn may assume a relaxed position vis-à- vis
dogma comparable to that of Richardson in England; but soon
German art literature stood under the spell of the towering
figure of Winckelmann, whose Roman circle took the art
theories of Bellori (see above) even more seriously,
perhaps, than the 17th century had done. Anton Raphael
Mengs' Thoughts on Beauty and Taste in Painting
(Gedanken über die Schönheit und den Geschmack
in der Mahlerey, 1762) represent a rigorously academic
standpoint. With Lessing's Laoköon (1766),
motifs from English art literature, above all the rational
investigation of art as semiotics
[Zeichengebung] find their way into German
art criticism, subsequently to be reshaped by Herder and the
young Goethe into the sentimentalism of the "Sturm und
Drang." The age of sentiment also finds expression in
Salomon Gessner's Letter on Landscape Painting
(Brief über die Landschafts-Mahlerey, 1770),
which found an echo in England especially.
The many reference works and dictionaries of the 18th
century were intended for the use of amateurs; their
predecessors may be found in the outstanding alphabetical
glossaries of artistic expressions by Baldinucci (1681) and
Félibien (1689). Sulzer's General Theory of Fine
Arts (Allgemeine Theorie der schönen
Künste, 1777), sharply criticized by Goethe, and
the dictionary of Watelet and Levesque, are characteristic
products of this milieu. Johann Rudolf Füssli's
Universal Dictionary of Artists (Allgemeines
Künstlerlexikon, 1763)--the first of its kind--and
Milizia's Dictionary of Fine Arts (Dizionario
delle belle arti del disegno, 1797) also belong
here.
With this we have reached the period in which the
genuinely scholarly and scientific study of art
[Kunstwissenschaft] takes root. It is
adumbrated by the great compendia and historical surveys of
the late 18th century. Winckelmann's History of Ancient
Art (Geschichte der Kunst des Altertums, 1764)
forms the great example of a historical view of art. There
follow Lanzi's History of Italian Painting (Storia
pittorica d'Italia, 1789), Leopoldo Cicognara's
History of Italian Sculpture (Storia della
scultura italiana, 1813-1818), J.D. Fiorillo's
History of Graphic Arts in Germany and the
Netherlands (Geschichte der zeichnenden Künste
in Deutschland und den Niederlanden, 1815-1820) and
d'Agincourt's History of Art by Monuments of the 4-16th
Centuries (Histoire de l'art par les monuments,
1811-1823). Simultaneously, there appear catalogues such as
Bartsch's Le Peintre-Graveur (1803f.). These are books which
possess practical as well as historical interest.
Since the 19th century we must distinguish between
writings on art addressed to contemporary issues and
scholarly literature. The former remain bound up with the
various tendencies in contemporary art and group themselves
accordingly. Thus Wilhelm Wackenroder's Sentimental
Effusions of an Art- Loving Monk (Herzensergiessungen
eines kunstliebenden Klosterbruders, 1797) represents
the enthusiastic standpoint of the Nazarenes, against which
Goethe's friend Heinrich Meyer hurled the Weimar circle's
ban of excommunication with his essay Neo-German
religious-patriotic Art (Neu-Deutsche
religiös-patriotische Kunst, 1817). While the works
of the Romantic Philip Otto Runge remained still
unpublished, Caspar David Friedrich's views won literary
form in C.G. Carus' Letters on Landscape Painting
(Briefe über die Landschaftsmalerei, printed
1830).
In England the Romantic enthusiasm for the Middle Ages
was first expressed in neo-Gothic architecture, defended in
the works of the architect A. Pugin (1812- 1852). The most
eloquent and influential champion and pioneer of this
movement arose in John Ruskin, friend of the Pre-Raphaelites
and passionate critic of the machine age, who spoke up for a
return of art to loving craftsmanship and piety. The revival
of "applied art" by William Morris, which still influenced
the principles of the German Werkbund and Bauhaus, would be
unthinkable without Ruskin. The fundamental ideas of German
Idealism, of Hans von Marées and Adolf Hildebrand,
should be sought in the works of Konrad Fiedler on the
philosophy of art.
Meanwhile the Idealist interpretation of art faced a
stronger opponent in France. While Baudelaire seeks in his
essays to do justice to the artistic temperament of a
Delacroix and the contemporary art of a Daumier or a
Constantin Guys, this revaluation of all values reveals
itself also in the judgement of the past: writers such as
Eduard Koloff, W. Burger-Thoré and Eugène
Fromentin promote the "realistic" masters, above all
Rembrandt and Vermeer, Frans Hals and Velazquez, while the
brothers Edmond and Jules de Goncourt rehabilitate the 18th
century, contemptuously dismissed by the classicists, and
prepare the theoretical basis for Impressionism. This
artistic tendency finds its spokesman in Emile Zola, who
champions Manet and his friend Cézanne in his
writings on the Salon (1866), and in J.K. Huysmans, who
prepares the way for the younger generation in L'art
moderne (1883).
The battle over modern art which began around the turn of
the century released a flood of art literature pro and con.
The architects addressed the public on their own behalf,
pleading not only for a new style of architecture but also
for a new style of life. Thus Otto Wagner's Modern
Architecture (Moderne Architektur, 1896); H.P.
Berlage's Thoughts on Style in Architecture
(Gedanken über den Stil in der Baukunst, 1905);
Henry van de Velde's On the new Style (Vom neuen
Stil, 1907); the writings of Adolf Loos, Frank Lloyd
Wright and Le Corbusier (Jeanneret). Painters, too, took up
the pen. J.M. Whistler's work The Gentle Art of making
Enemies (1890) struck the note of paradoxical and
consciously provocative epigram, variously imitated. Among
German writings on art those of Max Liebermann stand at the
forefront. Wasily Kandinsky's On the Spiritual in Art
(Über das Geistige in der Kunst, 1912) advocates
non- objective artistic expression.
The Symbolist movement at the turn of the century
stressed the unity of all arts and thus brought poets into
contact with visual artists. Thus Paul Valéry wrote
on Leonardo and Degas, André Gide on Poussin, and
Rilke on his Worpswede friends and on Rodin. With Guillaume
Apollinaire's The Cubist Painters (Les Peintres
Cubistes, 1913), Hermann Bahr's Expressionism
(Expressionismus, 1916), Theodore
Däubler's At War for Modern Art (Im Kampf um
die moderne Kunst, 1919) and André Breton's
Surrealism and Painting (Le Surréalisme et
la peinture, 1928), the poet becomes wholly the
spokesman for the painter in a common battle.
Among art historians who stood up for "progress," we may
mention Richard Muther, Julius Meier-Graefe, Hugo von
Tschudi, Karl Scheffler, Hans Tietze and Wilhelm Worringer
in Germany, while in England Roger Fry and Herbert Read took
the side of modern art. By contrast, Bernard Berenson
subjected this development to a sharp critique from the
standpoint of a "humanistic" theory of art and values in
Aesthetics and History (1950). And in The Lost
Center (Verlust der Mitte, 1948), Hans Sedlmayr
sought to interpret and dismiss the visual arts of the
present day as a "symbol" or "symptom" from the viewpoint of
a "geistesgeschichtliche Kunstwissenschaft" of a Hegelian
stamp. To what extent in the 20th century all questions of
art become political, and how in the process the unqualified
press to participate in the literature of art, requires no
commentary.
By contrast, one realm of art literature must be touched
upon which only came to full flowering in this century:
writings on art education. In Germany it is above all Alfred
Lichtwark who, in Hamburg, tirelessly propagated the ideas
of the English applied artists, especially those of William
Morris, and who bestowed a wholly new attention upon the
"art" of the untrained and of children. The catch-phrase
"art for the people" could be realized as cheaper
reproductive techniques and larger editions assured the
wider distribution of illustrated works.
The revolutionary and levelling influence of new
reproduction techniques with their enlargements, details,
comparisons and lighting affects was perceived above all by
André Malraux. In the three volumes of his
Psychology of Art (Psychologie de l'art; from
1949), he sought to trace the consequences of this
revaluation of our artistic heritage for artists, critics
and historians.