The Philosophy of Fine Art, volume 3 (of 4): Hegel's Aesthetik
Georg Hegel · en
(_αα_) The first position which the art of painting is able to secure
still betrays its origin from sculpture and architecture: in the
_entire mode_ of its conception it is still in close association with
these arts. And this will pre-eminently be the case where the artist
restricts himself to individual figures, which he does not place before
us in the vital connections of an essentially concrete situation,
but in the simple independence of its self-repose. Out of the many
sources of content which I have indicated as adapted to painting, we
shall find religious subjects, Christ, his apostles, and the like are
exceptionally suited to such abstract treatment. Such figures as these
must necessarily be assumed to possess sufficient significance in
their isolation, to be complete in themselves, and to unfold an object
sufficiently substantive of adoration and love. Belonging to this
type, particularly in early art, we meet with examples of Christ or
his saints isolated without definite situation and environment. If we
do find the latter it mainly consists in architectural embellishments,
particularly Gothic; this is frequently the case in early Flemish or
upper German art[311]. In this relation to architecture, among the
columns and arches of which such figures as the twelve apostles and
others are frequently composed, painting does not as yet attain to the
life-like actuality of its later development, and we find that even the
figures still retain in some measure a character which inclines to the
statuesque, or to some extent do not move beyond such a general type
as we find indicated in its fundamentals by Byzantine painting. For
isolated figures of this character, devoid of any background or only
retaining a purely architectonic outline, a more severe simplicity of
colour, and a more emphatic brilliancy, is as it should be. The oldest
school of painters have consequently employed a single-tinted ground of
gold instead of a rich natural landscape, a ground which the colours
of drapery have to confront, and to which they are compelled to adapt
themselves; these are consequently more decisive and glaring than the
colours employed in the periods of Art's finest bloom, just as we find
as a rule that simple vivid colours such as red, blue, and the rest are
most pleasing to uncultivated people.
To this earliest type of conception it is that for the most part the
miracle-working pictures belong. To such as to something stupendous
man is merely placed in a relation of stupidity, from which the aspect
of their artistic merit vanishes, so that they are not brought nearer
to his conscious life in friendly guise in accordance with their vital
humanity and beauty, and the very pictures which are most revered in a
religious sense are from an artistic standpoint the most execrable.