The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 3 (of 4): Hegel's Aesthetik
Georg Hegel · en
of the presentation first begins to run counter to the Ideal, and
yet remains incapable of an ideal grasp, belonging as it does to the
symbolical synthesis, which is unable to embody in union the universal
aspect of the significance, and the individual embodiment as it appears
to sense. That _Egyptian_ sculpture possesses such a fundamental
character, is the single point that I will now briefly touch upon.
(_α_) The primary fact that calls for attention is the deficiency we
find here in ideal and creative _spontaneity_, despite the greatest
technical perfection. The source of works of Greek sculpture is the
vitality and freedom of the imagination, which builds up individual
figures from the religious ideas which are prevalent, and in the
individuality of this its production makes an actual fact of its
own ideal outlook and classical perfection. The Egyptian figures of
deities, on the contrary, receive an inherited[199] type. As Plato long
ago observes[200], the representations were long before fixed by the
priestly caste, and it was neither permitted to painter nor any master
of sculpture to introduce novelty, nor indeed to invent anything at
all, but to accept instead what was already among them and traditional;
neither is such permission conceded now. We consequently find that what
was made and fashioned, it may be myriads of years before (to allow
oneself a hyperbolical expression for the great number that is actual
verity), is neither more beautiful nor more ugly than the work of
to-day. The circumstance must also be associated with this scholastic
accuracy, that in Egypt, as appears clear from Herodotus[201], artists
did not enjoy the same respect as other citizens, but were forced
with their children to defer to all who were not engaged in artistic
work. Add to this art among the people was not followed according to
natural inclination; the institution of caste was paramount, and the
son walked after his father, not merely in the matter of profession,
but also in the way in which he made himself efficient in his duties
and his art. One man simply placed his feet in the steps of another,
so that, as Winckelmann has already observed[202], "Not a soul appears
to have left behind him a footmark, which he can appropriate as his
own." Consequently art, when fully confronted with this enforced
serfdom of Spirit--in conjunction with which the mobility of free and
artistic genius, in other words, not the mere impulse after external
honour and reward, but the more elevated impulse to be _artist_, is
banished--maintained itself simply as the mere craftsman working in
a purely mechanical and abstract way according to forms and rules
ready to hand, rather than with the vision of the artist of his own
individuality in his work, viewed in this way as his own unique
creation.