History of Indian and Eastern Architecture v1.c8.s15: Sculpture.
History of Indian and Eastern Architecture v1.c8.s15
- Language
- English
Sculpture.
v1.c8.s15.1
In order to render the subject treated of in the following pages quite complete, it ought, no doubt, to be preceded by an introduction describing first the sculpture and then the mythology of the Hindûs in so far as they are at present known to us. There are in fact few works connected with this subject more wanted at the present day than a good treatise on these subjects. When Major Moor published the ‘Hindû Pantheon’ in 1810, the subject was comparatively new, and the materials did not exist in this country for a full and satisfactory illustration of it in all its branches. When, in 1832, Coleman published his ‘Mythology of the Hindûs,’ he was enabled from the more recent researches of Colebrooke and Wilson, to improve the text considerably, but his illustrations are very inferior to those of his predecessor. Moor chose his from such bronzes or marbles as existed in our museums, and from an important private collection he formed principally in western India.² Coleman’s were generally taken from modern drawings, or the tawdry plaster images made for the Durgâ pujâ of Bengali Bâbûs.³ By the aid of photography any one now attempting the task would be able to select perfectly authentic examples from Hindû temples of the best age. If this were done judiciously, and the examples carefully reproduced, it would not only afford a more satisfactory illustration of the mythology of the Hindûs than has yet been given to the public, but it might also be made a history of the art of sculpture in India, in all the ages in which it is known to us.
v1.c8.s15.2
² His collection, brought from Bombay a century ago, is still preserved by his descendants in Suffolk.
v1.c8.s15.3
³ Similarly the small work—‘Hindû Mythology, Vedic and Puranic,’ by W. J. Wilkins (Calcutta, 1893), is illustrated solely from modern bazar pictures.
v1.c8.s15.4
From its very nature, it is evident that sculpture can hardly ever be so important as architecture as an illustration of the progress of the arts, or the affinities of nations. Tied down to the reproduction of the immutable human figure, sculpture hardly admits of the same variety, or the same development, as such an art as architecture, whose business it is to administer to all the varied wants of mankind, and to express the multifarious aspirations of the human mind. Yet sculpture has a history, and one that can at times convey its meaning with considerable distinctness. No one, for instance, can take up such a book as that of Cicognara,¹ and follow the gradual development of the art as he describes it, from the first rude carvings of the Byzantine school, till it returned in the present day to the mechanical perfection of the old Greek art, though without its ennobling spirit, and not feel that he has before him a fairly distinct illustration of the progress of the human mind during that period. Sculpture in India may fairly claim to rank, in power of expression, with mediæval sculpture in Europe, and to tell its tale of rise and decay with equal distinctness; but it is also interesting as having that curious Indian peculiarity of being written in decay. The story that Cicognara tells is one of steady forward progress towards higher aims and better execution. The Indian story is that of backward decline, from the sculptures of the Bharaut and Amarâvatî topes, to the illustrations of Coleman’s or Wilkins’s ‘Hindû Mythology.’
v1.c8.s15.5
¹ ‘Storia della Scultura, dal suo risorgimento in Italia sino al seculo di Napoleone.’ Venezia, 1813.
v1.c8.s15.6
When Hindû sculpture first dawns upon us in the rails at Bodh-Gayâ, and Bharaut B.C. 200 to 250, it is thoroughly original, almost without a trace of foreign influence, but quite capable of expressing its ideas, and of telling its story with a distinctness that never was surpassed—at least in India. Some animals, such as elephants, deer, and monkeys, are better represented there than in any sculpture known in any part of the world; so, too, are some trees, and the architectural details are cut with an elegance and precision which are very admirable. The human figures, too, though very different from our standard of beauty and grace, are truthful to nature, and, where grouped together, combine to express the action intended with singular felicity.
v1.c8.s15.7
For an honest purpose-like pre-Raphaelite kind of art, there is probably nothing much better to be found elsewhere.
v1.c8.s15.8
The art had apparently begun to decline when the gateways at Sânchi were executed somewhat later; but whether this was not mainly due to the more refractory character of the stone, and a different school of workmen, it is hard to say. They may then have gained a little in breadth of treatment, but it had lost in delicacy and precision. Its downward progress was, however, arrested, apparently by the rise, in the extreme north-west of India, of a school of sculpture strongly impregnated with the traditions of classical art. The Græco-Baktrians, driven out by the Yue-chi, continued to hold some sort of domination in Afghanistan till not very long before our era, and a vast interchange of ideas was, at that period, carried on between the east and west by means of newly-opened highways. Thus Greek models and art became familiar, and when once a demand arose for such workmanship, a school of art would appear. For the present it is sufficient to know that a quasi-classical school of sculpture did exist in the Panjâb, and to the west of the Indus during the first four centuries after Christ, and it can hardly have flourished there so long, without its presence being felt in India.¹
v1.c8.s15.9
¹ For some account of Buddhist art in Gandhâra and of early Indian sculpture, *see* Grünwedel's 'Buddhist Art in India,' Eng. translation (Quaritch, 1901). A work on 'Indian Sculpture and Painting,' by Mr E. B. Havell, has recently been published by Mr Murray.
v1.c8.s15.10
Its effects were certainly apparent at Amarâvatî in the 1st and 2nd centuries, where a school of sculpture was developed, partaking of the characteristics of both those of Central India and of the west. Though it may, in some respects, be inferior to either of the parent styles, the degree of perfection reached by the art of sculpture at Amarâvatî may probably be considered as the culminating point attained by that art in India.
v1.c8.s15.11
When we meet it again in the early Hindû temples, and later Buddhist caves, it has lost much of its higher æsthetic and phonetic qualities, and frequently resorts to such expedients as giving dignity to the principal personages by making them double the size of less important characters, and of distinguishing gods from men by giving them more heads and arms than mortal man can use or understand.
v1.c8.s15.12
All this is developed, it must be confessed, with considerable vigour and richness of effect in the temples of Orissa and of Mysore, down to the 13th or 14th century. After that, in the north it was checked by the presence of the Moslims; but, in the south, some of the most remarkable groups and statues—and they are very remarkable—were executed after this time, and continued to be executed, in considerable perfection, down to the middle of the 18th century.
v1.c8.s15.13
As we shall see in the sequel, the art of architecture continues to be practised with considerable success in parts of India remote from European influence; so much so, that it requires a practised eye to discriminate between what is new and what is old. But the moment any figures are introduced, especially if in action, the illusion vanishes. No mistake is then possible, for the veriest novice can see how painfully low the art of sculpture has fallen. Were it not for this, some of the modern temples in Gujarât and Central India are worthy to rank with those of past centuries; but their paintings and their sculptured decorations excite only feelings of dismay, and lead one to despair of true art being ever again revived in the East.
v1.c8.s15.14
To those who are familiar with the principles on which these arts are practised, the cause of this difference is obvious enough. Architecture being a technic art, its forms may be handed down traditionally, and its principles practised almost mechanically. The higher phonetic arts, however, of sculpture and painting admit of no such mechanical treatment. They require individual excellence, and a higher class of intellectual power of expression, to ensure their successful development. Architecture may, consequently, linger on amidst much political decay; but, like literature, the phonetic arts can only be successfully cultivated where a higher moral and intellectual standard prevails than, it is feared, is at present to be found in India.