{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_5321/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_5321","id":"gutenberg_5321","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5321","summary":null,"tags":["Aesthetics","Art","Category: Art","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Painting"],"text":"Produced by John Mamoun <mamounjo@umdnj.edu>, Charles\nFranks and the Online Distributed Proofreaders Website\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONCERNING THE SPIRITUAL IN ART\n\nBY WASSILY KANDINSKY [TRANSLATED BY MICHAEL T. H. SADLER]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTABLE OF CONTENTS\n\n\n    LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS [NOT IN E-TEXT]\n    TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION\n\n    PART I. ABOUT GENERAL AESTHETIC\n\n       I. INTRODUCTION\n      II. THE MOVEMENT OF THE TRIANGLE\n     III. SPIRITUAL REVOLUTION\n      IV. THE PYRAMID\n\n    PART II. ABOUT PAINTING\n\n       V. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL WORKING OF COLOUR\n      VI. THE LANGUAGE OF FORM AND COLOUR\n     VII. THEORY\n    VIII. ART AND ARTISTS\n      IX. CONCLUSION\n\n\n\nLIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS [NOT IN E-TEXT]\n\n\n\nMosaic in S. Vitale, Ravenna\n\nVictor and Heinrich Dunwegge: \"The Crucifixion\" (in the Alte\nPinakothek, Munich)\n\nAlbrecht Durer: \"The Descent from the Cross\" (in the Alte\nPinakothek, Munich)\n\nRaphael: \"The Canigiani Holy Family\" (in the Alte Pinakothek,\nMunich)\n\nPaul Cezanne: \"Bathing Women\" (by permission of Messrs.\nBernheim-Jeune, Paris)\n\nKandinsky: Impression No. 4, \"Moscow\" (1911)\n\n          \"Improvisation No. 29 (1912)\n          \"Composition No. 2 (1910)\n          \"Kleine Freuden\" (1913)\n\n\n\nTRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION\n\n\n\nIt is no common thing to find an artist who, even if he be\nwilling to try, is capable of expressing his aims and ideals with\nany clearness and moderation. Some people will say that any such\ncapacity is a flaw in the perfect artist, who should find his\nexpression in line and colour, and leave the multitude to grope\nits way unaided towards comprehension. This attitude is a relic\nof the days when \"l'art pour l'art\" was the latest battle cry;\nwhen eccentricity of manner and irregularity of life were more\nimportant than any talent to the would-be artist; when every one\nexcept oneself was bourgeois.\n\nThe last few years have in some measure removed this absurdity,\nby destroying the old convention that it was middle-class to be\nsane, and that between the artist and the outer-world yawned a\ngulf which few could cross. Modern artists are beginning to\nrealize their social duties. They are the spiritual teachers of\nthe world, and for their teaching to have weight, it must be\ncomprehensible. Any attempt, therefore, to bring artist and\npublic into sympathy, to enable the latter to understand the\nideals of the former, should be thoroughly welcome; and such an\nattempt is this book of Kandinsky's.\n\nThe author is one of the leaders of the new art movement in\nMunich. The group of which he is a member includes painters,\npoets, musicians, dramatists, critics, all working to the same\nend--the expression of the SOUL of nature and humanity, or, as\nKandinsky terms it, the INNERER KLANG.\n\nPerhaps the fault of this book of theory--or rather the\ncharacteristic most likely to give cause for attack--is the\ntendency to verbosity. Philosophy, especially in the hands of a\nwriter of German, presents inexhaustible opportunities for vague\nand grandiloquent language. Partly for this reason, partly from\nincompetence, I have not primarily attempted to deal with the\nphilosophical basis of Kandinsky's art. Some, probably, will find\nin this aspect of the book its chief interest, but better service\nwill be done to the author's ideas by leaving them to the\nreader's judgement than by even the most expert criticism.\n\nThe power of a book to excite argument is often the best proof of\nits value, and my own experience has always been that those new\nideas are at once most challenging and most stimulating which\ncome direct from their author, with no intermediate discussion.\n\nThe task undertaken in this Introduction is a humbler but perhaps\na more necessary one. England, throughout her history, has shown\nscant respect for sudden spasms of theory. Whether in politics,\nreligion, or art, she demands an historical foundation for every\nbelief, and when such a foundation is not forthcoming she may\nsmile indulgently, but serious interest is immediately withdrawn.\nI am keenly anxious that Kandinsky's art should not suffer this\nfate. My personal belief in his sincerity and the future of his\nideas will go for very little, but if it can be shown that he is\na reasonable development of what we regard as serious art, that\nhe is no adventurer striving for a momentary notoriety by the\nstrangeness of his beliefs, then there is a chance that some\npeople at least will give his art fair consideration, and that,\nof these people, a few will come to love it as, in my opinion, it\ndeserves.\n\nPost-Impressionism, that vague and much-abused term, is now almost a\nhousehold word. That the name of the movement is better known than the\nnames of its chief leaders is a sad misfortune, largely caused by the\nover-rapidity of its introduction into England. Within the space of two\nshort years a mass of artists from Manet to the most recent of Cubists\nwere thrust on a public, who had hardly realized Impressionism. The\ninevitable result has been complete mental chaos. The tradition of which\ntrue Post-Impressionism is the modern expression has been kept alive\ndown the ages of European art by scattered and, until lately, neglected\npainters. But not since the time of the so-called Byzantines, not since\nthe period of which Giotto and his School were the final splendid\nblossoming, has the \"Symbolist\" ideal in art held general sway over the\n\"Naturalist.\" The Primitive Italians, like their predecessors the\nPrimitive Greeks, and, in turn, their predecessors the Egyptians, sought\nto express the inner feeling rather than the outer reality.\n\nThis ideal tended to be lost to sight in the naturalistic revival\nof the Renaissance, which derived its inspiration solely from\nthose periods of Greek and Roman art which were pre-occupied with\nthe expression of external reality. Although the all-embracing\ngenius of Michelangelo kept the \"Symbolist\" tradition alive, it\nis the work of El Greco that merits the complete title of\n\"Symbolist.\" From El Greco springs Goya and the Spanish influence\non Daumier and Manet. When it is remembered that, in the\nmeantime, Rembrandt and his contemporaries, notably Brouwer, left\ntheir mark on French art in the work of Delacroix, Decamps and\nCourbet, the way will be seen clearly open to Cezanne and\nGauguin.\n\nThe phrase \"symbolist tradition\" is not used to express any\nconscious affinity between the various generations of artists. As\nKandinsky says: \"the relationships in art are not necessarily\nones of outward form, but are founded on inner sympathy of\nmeaning.\" Sometimes, perhaps frequently, a similarity of outward\nform will appear. But in tracing spiritual relationship only\ninner meaning must be taken into account.\n\nThere are, of course, many people who deny that Primitive Art had an\ninner meaning or, rather, that what is called \"archaic expression\" was\ndictated by anything but ignorance of representative methods and\ndefective materials. Such people are numbered among the bitterest\nopponents of Post-Impressionism, and indeed it is difficult to see how\nthey could be otherwise. \"Painting,\" they say, \"which seeks to learn\nfrom an age when art was, however sincere, incompetent and uneducated,\ndeliberately rejects the knowledge and skill of centuries.\" It will be\nno easy matter to conquer this assumption that Primitive art is merely\nuntrained Naturalism, but until it is conquered there seems little hope\nfor a sympathetic understanding of the symbolist ideal.\n\nThe task is all the more difficult because of the analogy drawn by\nfriends of the new movement between the neo-primitive vision and that of\na child. That the analogy contains a grain of truth does not make it the\nless mischievous. Freshness of vision the child has, and freshness of\nvision is an important element in the new movement. But beyond this a\nparallel is non-existent, must be non-existent in any art other than\npure artificiality. It is one thing to ape ineptitude in technique and\nanother to acquire simplicity of vision. Simplicity--or rather\ndiscrimination of vision--is the trademark of the true\nPost-Impressionist. He OBSERVES and then SELECTS what is essential. The\nresult is a logical and very sophisticated synthesis. Such a synthesis\nwill find expression in simple and even harsh technique. But the process\ncan only come AFTER the naturalist process and not before it. The child\nhas a direct vision, because his mind is unencumbered by association and\nbecause his power of concentration is unimpaired by a multiplicity of\ninterests. His method of drawing is immature; its variations from the\nordinary result from lack of capacity.\n\nTwo examples will make my meaning clearer. The child draws a landscape.\nHis picture contains one or two objects only from the number before his\neyes. These are the objects which strike him as important. So far, good.\nBut there is no relation between them; they stand isolated on his paper,\nmere lumpish shapes. The Post-Impressionist, however, selects his\nobjects with a view to expressing by their means the whole feeling of\nthe landscape. His choice falls on elements which sum up the whole, not\nthose which first attract immediate attention.\n\nAgain, let us take the case of the definitely religious picture.\n\n[Footnote: Religion, in the sense of awe, is present in all true\nart. But here I use the term in the narrower sense to mean\npictures of which the subject is connected with Christian or\nother worship.]\n\nIt is not often that children draw religious scenes. More often battles\nand pageants attract them. But since the revival of the religious\npicture is so noticeable a factor in the new movement, since the\nByzantines painted almost entirely religious subjects, and finally,\nsince a book of such drawings by a child of twelve has recently been\npublished, I prefer to take them as my example. Daphne Alien's religious\ndrawings have the graceful charm of childhood, but they are mere\nchildish echoes of conventional prettiness. Her talent, when mature,\nwill turn to the charming rather than to the vigorous. There could be no\ngreater contrast between such drawing and that of--say--Cimabue.\nCimabue's Madonnas are not pretty women, but huge, solemn symbols. Their\nheads droop stiffly; their tenderness is universal. In Gauguin's \"Agony\nin the Garden\" the figure of Christ is haggard with pain and grief.\nThese artists have filled their pictures with a bitter experience which\nno child can possibly possess. I repeat, therefore, that the analogy\nbetween Post-Impressionism and child-art is a false analogy, and that\nfor a trained man or woman to paint as a child paints is an\nimpossibility. [Footnote: I am well aware that this statement is at\nvariance with Kandinsky, who has contributed a long article--\"Uber die\nFormfrage\"--to Der Blaue Reiter, in which he argues the parallel between\nPost-Impressionism and child vision, as exemplified in the work of Henri\nRousseau. Certainly Rousseau's vision is childlike. He has had no\nartistic training and pretends to none. But I consider that his art\nsuffers so greatly from his lack of training, that beyond a sentimental\ninterest it has little to recommend it.]\n\nAll this does not presume to say that the \"symbolist\" school of\nart is necessarily nobler than the \"naturalist.\" I am making no\ncomparison, only a distinction. When the difference in aim is\nfully realized, the Primitives can no longer be condemned as\nincompetent, nor the moderns as lunatics, for such a condemnation\nis made from a wrong point of view. Judgement must be passed, not\non the failure to achieve \"naturalism\" but on the failure to\nexpress the inner meaning.\n\nThe brief historical survey attempted above ended with the names of\nCezanne and Gauguin, and for the purposes of this Introduction, for the\npurpose, that is to say, of tracing the genealogy of the Cubists and of\nKandinsky, these two names may be taken to represent the modern\nexpression of the \"symbolist\" tradition.\n\nThe difference between them is subtle but goes very deep. For\nboth the ultimate and internal significance of what they painted\ncounted for more than the significance which is momentary and\nexternal. Cezanne saw in a tree, a heap of apples, a human face,\na group of bathing men or women, something more abiding than\neither photography or impressionist painting could present. He\npainted the \"treeness\" of the tree, as a modern critic has\nadmirably expressed it. But in everything he did he showed the\narchitectural mind of the true Frenchman. His landscape studies\nwere based on a profound sense of the structure of rocks and\nhills, and being structural, his art depends essentially on\nreality. Though he did not scruple, and rightly, to sacrifice\naccuracy of form to the inner need, the material of which his art\nwas composed was drawn from the huge stores of actual nature.\n\nGauguin has greater solemnity and fire than Cezanne. His pictures\nare tragic or passionate poems. He also sacrifices conventional\nform to inner expression, but his art tends ever towards the\nspiritual, towards that profounder emphasis which cannot be\nexpressed in natural objects nor in words. True his abandonment\nof representative methods did not lead him to an abandonment of\nnatural terms of expression--that is to say human figures, trees\nand animals do appear in his pictures. But that he was much\nnearer a complete rejection of representation than was Cezanne is\nshown by the course followed by their respective disciples.\n\nThe generation immediately subsequent to Cezanne, Herbin,\nVlaminck, Friesz, Marquet, etc., do little more than exaggerate\nCezanne's technique, until there appear the first signs of\nCubism. These are seen very clearly in Herbin. Objects begin to\nbe treated in flat planes. A round vase is represented by a\nseries of planes set one into the other, which at a distance\nblend into a curve. This is the first stage.\n\nThe real plunge into Cubism was taken by Picasso, who, nurtured\non Cezanne, carried to its perfectly logical conclusion the\nmaster's structural treatment of nature. Representation\ndisappears. Starting from a single natural object, Picasso and\nthe Cubists produce lines and project angles till their canvases\nare covered with intricate and often very beautiful series of\nbalanced lines and curves. They persist, however, in giving them\npicture titles which recall the natural object from which their\nminds first took flight.\n\nWith Gauguin the case is different. The generation of his disciples\nwhich followed him--I put it thus to distinguish them from his actual\npupils at Pont Aven, Serusier and the rest--carried the tendency\nfurther. One hesitates to mention Derain, for his beginnings, full of\nvitality and promise, have given place to a dreary compromise with\nCubism, without visible future, and above all without humour. But there\nis no better example of the development of synthetic symbolism than his\nfirst book of woodcuts.\n\n[Footnote: L'Enchanteur pourrissant, par Guillaume Apollinaire,\navec illustrations gravees sur bois par Andre Derain. Paris,\nKahnweiler, 1910.]\n\nHere is work which keeps the merest semblance of conventional\nform, which gives its effect by startling masses of black and\nwhite, by sudden curves, but more frequently by sudden angles.\n\n[Footnote: The renaissance of the angle in art is an interesting\nfeature of the new movement. Not since Egyptian times has it been\nused with such noble effect. There is a painting of Gauguin's at\nHagen, of a row of Tahitian women seated on a bench, that\nconsists entirely of a telling design in Egyptian angles. Cubism\nis the result of this discovery of the angle, blended with the\ninfluence of Cezanne.]\n\nIn the process of the gradual abandonment of natural form the\n\"angle\" school is paralleled by the \"curve\" school, which also\ndescends wholly from Gauguin. The best known representative is\nMaurice Denis. But he has become a slave to sentimentality, and\nhas been left behind. Matisse is the most prominent French artist\nwho has followed Gauguin with curves. In Germany a group of young\nmen, who form the Neue Kunstlevereinigung in Munich, work almost\nentirely in sweeping curves, and have reduced natural objects\npurely to flowing, decorative units.\n\nBut while they have followed Gauguin's lead in abandoning\nrepresentation both of these two groups of advance are lacking in\nspiritual meaning. Their aim becomes more and more decorative,\nwith an undercurrent of suggestion of simplified form. Anyone who\nhas studied Gauguin will be aware of the intense spiritual value\nof his work. The man is a preacher and a psychologist, universal\nby his very unorthodoxy, fundamental because he goes deeper than\ncivilization. In his disciples this great element is wanting.\nKandinsky has supplied the need. He is not only on the track of\nan art more purely spiritual than was conceived even by Gauguin,\nbut he has achieved the final abandonment of all representative\nintention. In this way he combines in himself the spiritual and\ntechnical tendencies of one great branch of Post-Impressionism.\n\nThe question most generally asked about Kandinsky's art is: \"What\nis he trying to do?\" It is to be hoped that this book will do\nsomething towards answering the question. But it will not do\neverything. This--partly because it is impossible to put into\nwords the whole of Kandinsky's ideal, partly because in his\nanxiety to state his case, to court criticism, the author has\nbeen tempted to formulate more than is wise. His analysis of\ncolours and their effects on the spectator is not the real basis\nof his art, because, if it were, one could, with the help of a\nscientific manual, describe one's emotions before his pictures\nwith perfect accuracy. And this is impossible.\n\nKandinsky is painting music. That is to say, he has broken down\nthe barrier between music and painting, and has isolated the pure\nemotion which, for want of a better name, we call the artistic\nemotion. Anyone who has listened to good music with any enjoyment\nwill admit to an unmistakable but quite indefinable thrill. He\nwill not be able, with sincerity, to say that such a passage gave\nhim such visual impressions, or such a harmony roused in him such\nemotions. The effect of music is too subtle for words. And the\nsame with this painting of Kandinsky's. Speaking for myself, to\nstand in front of some of his drawings or pictures gives a keener\nand more spiritual pleasure than any other kind of painting. But\nI could not express in the least what gives the pleasure.\nPresumably the lines and colours have the same effect as harmony\nand rhythm in music have on the truly musical. That psychology\ncomes in no one can deny. Many people--perhaps at present the\nvery large majority of people--have their colour-music sense\ndormant. It has never been exercised. In the same way many people\nare unmusical--either wholly, by nature, or partly, for lack of\nexperience. Even when Kandinsky's idea is universally understood\nthere may be many who are not moved by his melody. For my part,\nsomething within me answered to Kandinsky's art the first time I\nmet with it. There was no question of looking for representation;\na harmony had been set up, and that was enough.\n\nOf course colour-music is no new idea. That is to say attempts have been\nmade to play compositions in colour, by flashes and harmonies.\n[Footnote: Cf. \"Colour Music,\" by A. Wallace Rimington. Hutchinson. 6s.\nnet.] Also music has been interpreted in colour. But I do not know of\nany previous attempt to paint, without any reference to music,\ncompositions which shall have on the spectator an effect wholly divorced\nfrom representative association. Kandinsky refers to attempts to paint\nin colour-counterpoint. But that is a different matter, in that it is\nthe borrowing from one art by another of purely technical methods,\nwithout a previous impulse from spiritual sympathy.\n\nOne is faced then with the conflicting claims of Picasso and\nKandinsky to the position of true leader of non-representative\nart. Picasso's admirers hail him, just as this Introduction hails\nKandinsky, as a visual musician. The methods and ideas of each\nrival are so different that the title cannot be accorded to both.\nIn his book, Kandinsky states his opinion of Cubism and its fatal\nweakness, and history goes to support his contention. The origin\nof Cubism in Cezanne, in a structural art that owes its very\nexistence to matter, makes its claim to pure emotionalism seem\nuntenable. Emotions are not composed of strata and conflicting\npressures. Once abandon reality and the geometrical vision\nbecomes abstract mathematics. It seems to me that Picasso shares\na Futurist error when he endeavours to harmonize one item of\nreality--a number, a button, a few capital letters--with a\nsurrounding aura of angular projections. There must be a conflict\nof impressions, which differ essentially in quality. One trend of\nmodern music is towards realism of sound. Children cry, dogs\nbark, plates are broken. Picasso approaches the same goal from\nthe opposite direction. It is as though he were trying to work\nfrom realism to music. The waste of time is, to my mind, equally\ncomplete in both cases. The power of music to give expression\nwithout the help of representation is its noblest possession. No\npainting has ever had such a precious power. Kandinsky is\nstriving to give it that power, and prove what is at least the\nlogical analogy between colour and sound, between line and rhythm\nof beat. Picasso makes little use of colour, and confines himself\nonly to one series of line effects--those caused by conflicting\nangles. So his aim is smaller and more limited than Kandinsky's\neven if it is as reasonable. But because it has not wholly\nabandoned realism but uses for the painting of feeling a\nstructural vision dependent for its value on the association of\nreality, because in so doing it tries to make the best of two\nworlds, there seems little hope for it of redemption in either.\n\nAs has been said above, Picasso and Kandinsky make an interesting\nparallel, in that they have developed the art respectively of\nCezanne and Gauguin, in a similar direction. On the decision of\nPicasso's failure or success rests the distinction between\nCezanne and Gauguin, the realist and the symbolist, the painter\nof externals and the painter of religious feeling. Unless a\nspiritual value is accorded to Cezanne's work, unless he is\nbelieved to be a religious painter (and religious painters need\nnot paint Madonnas), unless in fact he is paralleled closely with\nGauguin, his follower Picasso cannot claim to stand, with\nKandinsky, as a prophet of an art of spiritual harmony.\n\nIf Kandinsky ever attains his ideal--for he is the first to admit\nthat he has not yet reached his goal--if he ever succeeds in\nfinding a common language of colour and line which shall stand\nalone as the language of sound and beat stands alone, without\nrecourse to natural form or representation, he will on all hands\nbe hailed as a great innovator, as a champion of the freedom of\nart. Until such time, it is the duty of those to whom his work\nhas spoken, to bear their testimony. Otherwise he may be\ncondemned as one who has invented a shorthand of his own, and who\npaints pictures which cannot be understood by those who have not\nthe key of the cipher. In the meantime also it is important that\nhis position should be recognized as a legitimate, almost\ninevitable outcome of Post-Impressionist tendencies. Such is the\nrecognition this Introduction strives to secure.\n\n\nMICHAEL T. H. SADLER\n\n\n\nREFERENCE\n\n\n\nThose interested in the ideas and work of Kandinsky and his\nfellow artists would do well to consult:\n\nDER BLAUE REITER, vol. i. Piper Verlag, Munich, 10 mk. This\nsumptuous volume contains articles by Kandinsky, Franz Marc,\nArnold Schonberg, etc., together with some musical texts and\nnumerous reproductions--some in colour--of the work of the\nprimitive mosaicists, glass-painters, and sculptors, as well as\nof more modern artists from Greco to Kandinsky, Marc, and their\nfriends. The choice of illustrations gives an admirable idea of\nthe continuity and steady growth of the new painting, sculpture,\nand music.\n\nKLANGE. By Wassily Kandinsky. Piper Verlag, Munich, 30 mk. A most\nbeautifully produced book of prose-poems, with a large number of\nillustrations, many in colour. This is Kandinsky's most recent\nwork.\n\nAlso the back and current numbers of Der Sturm, a weekly paper\npublished in Berlin in the defence of the new art. Illustrations\nby Marc, Pechstein, le Fauconnier, Delaunay, Kandinsky, etc. Also\npoems and critical articles. Price per weekly number 25 pfg. Der\nSturm has in preparation an album of reproductions of pictures\nand drawings by Kandinsky.\n\nFor Cubism cf. Gleizes et Metzinger, \"du Cubisme,\" and Guillaume\nApollinaire, \"Les Peintres Cubistes.\" Collection Les Arts. Paris,\nFiguiere, per vol. 3 fr. 50 c.\n\n\n\n\nDEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF ELISABETH TICHEJEFF\n\n\n\n\nPART 1: ABOUT GENERAL AESTHETIC\n\n\n\nI. INTRODUCTION\n\n\n\nEvery work of art is the child of its age and, in many cases, the\nmother of our emotions. It follows that each period of culture\nproduces an art of its own which can never be repeated. Efforts\nto revive the art-principles of the past will at best produce an\nart that is still-born. It is impossible for us to live and feel,\nas did the ancient Greeks. In the same way those who strive to\nfollow the Greek methods in sculpture achieve only a similarity\nof form, the work remaining soulless for all time. Such imitation\nis mere aping. Externally the monkey completely resembles a human\nbeing; he will sit holding a book in front of his nose, and turn\nover the pages with a thoughtful aspect, but his actions have for\nhim no real meaning.\n\nThere is, however, in art another kind of external similarity\nwhich is founded on a fundamental truth. When there is a\nsimilarity of inner tendency in the whole moral and spiritual\natmosphere, a similarity of ideals, at first closely pursued but\nlater lost to sight, a similarity in the inner feeling of any one\nperiod to that of another, the logical result will be a revival\nof the external forms which served to express those inner\nfeelings in an earlier age. An example of this today is our\nsympathy, our spiritual relationship, with the Primitives. Like\nourselves, these artists sought to express in their work only\ninternal truths, renouncing in consequence all consideration of\nexternal form.\n\nThis all-important spark of inner life today is at present only a\nspark. Our minds, which are even now only just awakening after\nyears of materialism, are infected with the despair of unbelief,\nof lack of purpose and ideal. The nightmare of materialism, which\nhas turned the life of the universe into an evil, useless game,\nis not yet past; it holds the awakening soul still in its grip.\nOnly a feeble light glimmers like a tiny star in a vast gulf of\ndarkness. This feeble light is but a presentiment, and the soul,\nwhen it sees it, trembles in doubt whether the light is not a\ndream, and the gulf of darkness reality. This doubt, and the\nstill harsh tyranny of the materialistic philosophy, divide our\nsoul sharply from that of the Primitives. Our soul rings cracked\nwhen we seek to play upon it, as does a costly vase, long buried\nin the earth, which is found to have a flaw when it is dug up\nonce more. For this reason, the Primitive phase, through which we\nare now passing, with its temporary similarity of form, can only\nbe of short duration.\n\nThese two possible resemblances between the art forms of today\nand those of the past will be at once recognized as diametrically\nopposed to one another. The first, being purely external, has no\nfuture. The second, being internal, contains the seed of the\nfuture within itself. After the period of materialist effort,\nwhich held the soul in check until it was shaken off as evil, the\nsoul is emerging, purged by trials and sufferings. Shapeless\nemotions such as fear, joy, grief, etc., which belonged to this\ntime of effort, will no longer greatly attract the artist. He\nwill endeavour to awake subtler emotions, as yet unnamed. Living\nhimself a complicated and comparatively subtle life, his work\nwill give to those observers capable of feeling them lofty\nemotions beyond the reach of words.\n\nThe observer of today, however, is seldom capable of feeling such\nemotions. He seeks in a work of art a mere imitation of nature\nwhich can serve some definite purpose (for example a portrait in\nthe ordinary sense) or a presentment of nature according to a\ncertain convention (\"impressionist\" painting), or some inner\nfeeling expressed in terms of natural form (as we say--a picture\nwith Stimmung) [Footnote: Stimmung is almost untranslateable. It\nis almost \"sentiment\" in the best sense, and almost \"feeling.\"\nMany of Corot's twilight landscapes are full of a beautiful\n\"Stimmung.\" Kandinsky uses the word later on to mean the\n\"essential spirit\" of nature.--M.T.H.S.] All those varieties of\npicture, when they are really art, fulfil their purpose and feed\nthe spirit. Though this applies to the first case, it applies\nmore strongly to the third, where the spectator does feel a\ncorresponding thrill in himself. Such harmony or even contrast of\nemotion cannot be superficial or worthless; indeed the Stimmung\nof a picture can deepen and purify that of the spectator. Such\nworks of art at least preserve the soul from coarseness; they\n\"key it up,\" so to speak, to a certain height, as a tuning-key\nthe strings of a musical instrument. But purification, and\nextension in duration and size of this sympathy of soul, remain\none-sided, and the possibilities of the influence of art are not\nexerted to their utmost.\n\nImagine a building divided into many rooms. The building may be\nlarge or small. Every wall of every room is covered with pictures\nof various sizes; perhaps they number many thousands. They\nrepresent in colour bits of nature--animals in sunlight or\nshadow, drinking, standing in water, lying on the grass; near to,\na Crucifixion by a painter who does not believe in Christ;\nflowers; human figures sitting, standing, walking; often they are\nnaked; many naked women, seen foreshortened from behind; apples\nand silver dishes; portrait of Councillor So and So; sunset; lady\nin red; flying duck; portrait of Lady X; flying geese; lady in\nwhite; calves in shadow flecked with brilliant yellow sunlight;\nportrait of Prince Y; lady in green. All this is carefully\nprinted in a book--name of artist--name of picture. People with\nthese books in their hands go from wall to wall, turning over\npages, reading the names. Then they go away, neither richer nor\npoorer than when they came, and are absorbed at once in their\nbusiness, which has nothing to do with art. Why did they come? In\neach picture is a whole lifetime imprisoned, a whole lifetime of\nfears, doubts, hopes, and joys.\n\nWhither is this lifetime tending? What is the message of the\ncompetent artist? \"To send light into the darkness of men's\nhearts--such is the duty of the artist,\" said Schumann. \"An\nartist is a man who can draw and paint everything,\" said Tolstoi.\n\nOf these two definitions of the artist's activity we must choose\nthe second, if we think of the exhibition just described. On one\ncanvas is a huddle of objects painted with varying degrees of\nskill, virtuosity and vigour, harshly or smoothly. To harmonize\nthe whole is the task of art. With cold eyes and indifferent mind\nthe spectators regard the work. Connoisseurs admire the \"skill\"\n(as one admires a tightrope walker), enjoy the \"quality of\npainting\" (as one enjoys a pasty). But hungry souls go hungry\naway.\n\nThe vulgar herd stroll through the rooms and pronounce the\npictures \"nice\" or \"splendid.\" Those who could speak have said\nnothing, those who could hear have heard nothing. This condition\nof art is called \"art for art's sake.\" This neglect of inner\nmeanings, which is the life of colours, this vain squandering of\nartistic power is called \"art for art's sake.\"\n\nThe artist seeks for material reward for his dexterity, his power\nof vision and experience. His purpose becomes the satisfaction of\nvanity and greed. In place of the steady co-operation of artists\nis a scramble for good things. There are complaints of excessive\ncompetition, of over-production. Hatred, partisanship, cliques,\njealousy, intrigues are the natural consequences of this aimless,\nmaterialist art.\n\n[Footnote: The few solitary exceptions do not destroy the truth\nof this sad and ominous picture, and even these exceptions are\nchiefly believers in the doctrine of art for art's sake. They\nserve, therefore, a higher ideal, but one which is ultimately a\nuseless waste of their strength. External beauty is one element\nof a spiritual atmosphere. But beyond this positive fact (that\nwhat is beautiful is good) it has the weakness of a talent not\nused to the full. (The word talent is employed in the biblical\nsense.)]\n\nThe onlooker turns away from the artist who has higher ideals and\nwho cannot see his life purpose in an art without aims.\n\nSympathy is the education of the spectator from the point of view\nof the artist. It has been said above that art is the child of\nits age. Such an art can only create an artistic feeling which is\nalready clearly felt. This art, which has no power for the\nfuture, which is only a child of the age and cannot become a\nmother of the future, is a barren art. She is transitory and to\nall intent dies the moment the atmosphere alters which nourished\nher.\n\nThe other art, that which is capable of educating further,\nsprings equally from contemporary feeling, but is at the same\ntime not only echo and mirror of it, but also has a deep and\npowerful prophetic strength.\n\nThe spiritual life, to which art belongs and of which she is one\nof the mightiest elements, is a complicated but definite and\neasily definable movement forwards and upwards. This movement is\nthe movement of experience. It may take different forms, but it\nholds at bottom to the same inner thought and purpose.\n\nVeiled in obscurity are the causes of this need to move ever\nupwards and forwards, by sweat of the brow, through sufferings\nand fears. When one stage has been accomplished, and many evil\nstones cleared from the road, some unseen and wicked hand\nscatters new obstacles in the way, so that the path often seems\nblocked and totally obliterated. But there never fails to come to\nthe rescue some human being, like ourselves in everything except\nthat he has in him a secret power of vision.\n\nHe sees and points the way. The power to do this he would\nsometimes fain lay aside, for it is a bitter cross to bear. But\nhe cannot do so. Scorned and hated, he drags after him over the\nstones the heavy chariot of a divided humanity, ever forwards and\nupwards.\n\nOften, many years after his body has vanished from the earth, men\ntry by every means to recreate this body in marble, iron, bronze,\nor stone, on an enormous scale. As if there were any intrinsic\nvalue in the bodily existence of such divine martyrs and servants\nof humanity, who despised the flesh and lived only for the\nspirit! But at least such setting up of marble is a proof that a\ngreat number of men have reached the point where once the being\nthey would now honour, stood alone.\n\n\n\nII. THE MOVEMENT OF THE TRIANGLE\n\n\n\nThe life of the spirit may be fairly represented in diagram as a\nlarge acute-angled triangle divided horizontally into unequal\nparts with the narrowest segment uppermost. The lower the segment\nthe greater it is in breadth, depth, and area.\n\nThe whole triangle is moving slowly, almost invisibly forwards\nand upwards. Where the apex was today the second segment is\ntomorrow; what today can be understood only by the apex and to\nthe rest of the triangle is an incomprehensible gibberish, forms\ntomorrow the true thought and feeling of the second segment.\n\nAt the apex of the top segment stands often one man, and only\none. His joyful vision cloaks a vast sorrow. Even those who are\nnearest to him in sympathy do not understand him. Angrily they\nabuse him as charlatan or madman. So in his lifetime stood\nBeethoven, solitary and insulted.\n\n[Footnote: Weber, composer of Der Freischutz, said of Beethoven's\nSeventh Symphony: \"The extravagances of genius have reached the\nlimit; Beethoven is now ripe for an asylum.\" Of the opening\nphrase, on a reiterated \"e,\" the Abbe Stadler said to his\nneighbour, when first he heard it: \"Always that miserable 'e'; he\nseems to be deaf to it himself, the idiot!\"]\n\nHow many years will it be before a greater segment of the\ntriangle reaches the spot where he once stood alone? Despite\nmemorials and statues, are they really many who have risen to his\nlevel? [Footnote 2: Are not many monuments in themselves answers\nto that question?]\n\nIn every segment of the triangle are artists. Each one of them\nwho can see beyond the limits of his segment is a prophet to\nthose about him, and helps the advance of the obstinate whole.\nBut those who are blind, or those who retard the movement of the\ntriangle for baser reasons, are fully understood by their fellows\nand acclaimed for their genius. The greater the segment (which is\nthe same as saying the lower it lies in the triangle) so the\ngreater the number who understand the words of the artist. Every\nsegment hungers consciously or, much more often, unconsciously\nfor their corresponding spiritual food. This food is offered by\nthe artists, and for this food the segment immediately below will\ntomorrow be stretching out eager hands.\n\nThis simile of the triangle cannot be said to express every\naspect of the spiritual life. For instance, there is never an\nabsolute shadow-side to the picture, never a piece of unrelieved\ngloom. Even too often it happens that one level of spiritual food\nsuffices for the nourishment of those who are already in a higher\nsegment. But for them this food is poison; in small quantities it\ndepresses their souls gradually into a lower segment; in large\nquantities it hurls them suddenly into the depths ever lower and\nlower. Sienkiewicz, in one of his novels, compares the spiritual\nlife to swimming; for the man who does not strive tirelessly, who\ndoes not fight continually against sinking, will mentally and\nmorally go under. In this strait a man's talent (again in the\nbiblical sense) becomes a curse--and not only the talent of the\nartist, but also of those who eat this poisoned food. The artist\nuses his strength to flatter his lower needs; in an ostensibly\nartistic form he presents what is impure, draws the weaker\nelements to him, mixes them with evil, betrays men and helps them\nto betray themselves, while they convince themselves and others\nthat they are spiritually thirsty, and that from this pure spring\nthey may quench their thirst. Such art does not help the forward\nmovement, but hinders it, dragging back those who are striving to\npress onward, and spreading pestilence abroad.\n\nSuch periods, during which art has no noble champion, during\nwhich the true spiritual food is wanting, are periods of\nretrogression in the spiritual world. Ceaselessly souls fall from\nthe higher to the lower segments of the triangle, and the whole\nseems motionless, or even to move down and backwards. Men\nattribute to these blind and dumb periods a special value, for\nthey judge them by outward results, thinking only of material\nwell-being. They hail some technical advance, which can help\nnothing but the body, as a great achievement. Real spiritual\ngains are at best under-valued, at worst entirely ignored.\n\nThe solitary visionaries are despised or regarded as abnormal and\neccentric. Those who are not wrapped in lethargy and who feel\nvague longings for spiritual life and knowledge and progress, cry\nin harsh chorus, without any to comfort them. The night of the\nspirit falls more and more darkly. Deeper becomes the misery of\nthese blind and terrified guides, and their followers, tormented\nand unnerved by fear and doubt, prefer to this gradual darkening\nthe final sudden leap into the blackness.\n\nAt such a time art ministers to lower needs, and is used for\nmaterial ends. She seeks her substance in hard realities because\nshe knows of nothing nobler. Objects, the reproduction of which\nis considered her sole aim, remain monotonously the same. The\nquestion \"what?\" disappears from art; only the question \"how?\"\nremains. By what method are these material objects to be\nreproduced? The word becomes a creed. Art has lost her soul.\n\nIn the search for method the artist goes still further. Art\nbecomes so specialized as to be comprehensible only to artists,\nand they complain bitterly of public indifference to their work.\nFor since the artist in such times has no need to say much, but\nonly to be notorious for some small originality and consequently\nlauded by a small group of patrons and connoisseurs (which\nincidentally is also a very profitable business for him), there\narise a crowd of gifted and skilful painters, so easy does the\nconquest of art appear. In each artistic circle are thousands of\nsuch artists, of whom the majority seek only for some new\ntechnical manner, and who produce millions of works of art\nwithout enthusiasm, with cold hearts and souls asleep.\n\nCompetition arises. The wild battle for success becomes more and\nmore material. Small groups who have fought their way to the top\nof the chaotic world of art and picture-making entrench\nthemselves in the territory they have won. The public, left far\nbehind, looks on bewildered, loses interest and turns away.\n\nBut despite all this confusion, this chaos, this wild hunt for\nnotoriety, the spiritual triangle, slowly but surely, with\nirresistible strength, moves onwards and upwards.\n\nThe invisible Moses descends from the mountain and sees the dance\nround the golden calf. But he brings with him fresh stores of\nwisdom to man.\n\nFirst by the artist is heard his voice, the voice that is\ninaudible to the crowd. Almost unknowingly the artist follows the\ncall. Already in that very question \"how?\" lies a hidden seed of\nrenaissance. For when this \"how?\" remains without any fruitful\nanswer, there is always a possibility that the same \"something\"\n(which we call personality today) may be able to see in the\nobjects about it not only what is purely material but also\nsomething less solid; something less \"bodily\" than was seen in\nthe period of realism, when the universal aim was to reproduce\nanything \"as it really is\" and without fantastic imagination.\n\n[Footnote: Frequent use is made here of the terms \"material\" and\n\"non-material,\" and of the intermediate phrases \"more\" or \"less\nmaterial.\" Is everything material? or is EVERYTHING spiritual?\nCan the distinctions we make between matter and spirit be nothing\nbut relative modifications of one or the other? Thought which,\nalthough a product of the spirit, can be defined with positive\nscience, is matter, but of fine and not coarse substance. Is\nwhatever cannot be touched with the hand, spiritual? The\ndiscussion lies beyond the scope of this little book; all that\nmatters here is that the boundaries drawn should not be too\ndefinite.]\n\nIf the emotional power of the artist can overwhelm the \"how?\" and\ncan give free scope to his finer feelings, then art is on the\ncrest of the road by which she will not fail later on to find the\n\"what\" she has lost, the \"what\" which will show the way to the\nspiritual food of the newly awakened spiritual life. This \"what?\"\nwill no longer be the material, objective \"what\" of the former\nperiod, but the internal truth of art, the soul without which the\nbody (i.e. the \"how\") can never be healthy, whether in an\nindividual or in a whole people.\n\nTHIS \"WHAT\" IS THE INTERNAL TRUTH WHICH ONLY ART CAN DIVINE,\nWHICH ONLY ART CAN EXPRESS BY THOSE MEANS OF EXPRESSION WHICH ARE\nHERS ALONE.\n\n\n\nIII. SPIRITUAL REVOLUTION\n\n\n\nThe spiritual triangle moves slowly onwards and upwards. Today\none of the largest of the lower segments has reached the point of\nusing the first battle cry of the materialist creed. The dwellers\nin this segment group themselves round various banners in\nreligion. They call themselves Jews, Catholics, Protestants, etc.\nBut they are really atheists, and this a few either of the\nboldest or the narrowest openly avow. \"Heaven is empty,\" \"God is\ndead.\" In politics these people are democrats and republicans.\nThe fear, horror and hatred which yesterday they felt for these\npolitical creeds they now direct against anarchism, of which they\nknow nothing but its much dreaded name.\n\nIn economics these people are Socialists. They make sharp the\nsword of justice with which to slay the hydra of capitalism and\nto hew off the head of evil.\n\nBecause the inhabitants of this great segment of the triangle\nhave never solved any problem independently, but are dragged as\nit were in a cart by those the noblest of their fellowmen who\nhave sacrificed themselves, they know nothing of the vital\nimpulse of life which they regard always vaguely from a great\ndistance. They rate this impulse lightly, putting their trust in\npurposeless theory and in the working of some logical method.\n\nThe men of the segment next below are dragged slowly higher,\nblindly, by those just described. But they cling to their old\nposition, full of dread of the unknown and of betrayal. The\nhigher segments are not only blind atheists but can justify their\ngodlessness with strange words; for example, those of Virchow--so\nunworthy of a learned man--\"I have dissected many corpses, but\nnever yet discovered a soul in any of them.\"\n\nIn politics they are generally republican, with a knowledge of\ndifferent parliamentary procedures; they read the political\nleading articles in the newspapers. In economics they are\nsocialists of various grades, and can support their \"principles\"\nwith numerous quotations, passing from Schweitzer's EMMA via\nLasalle's IRON LAW OF WAGES, to Marx's CAPITAL, and still\nfurther.\n\nIn these loftier segments other categories of ideas, absent in\nthese just described, begin gradually to appear--science and art,\nto which last belong also literature and music.\n\nIn science these men are positivists, only recognizing those\nthings that can be weighed and measured. Anything beyond that\nthey consider as rather discreditable nonsense, that same\nnonsense about which they held yesterday the theories that today\nare proven.\n\nIn art they are naturalists, which means that they recognize and\nvalue the personality, individuality and temperament of the\nartist up to a certain definite point. This point has been fixed\nby others, and in it they believe unflinchingly.\n\nBut despite their patent and well-ordered security, despite their\ninfallible principles, there lurks in these higher segments a\nhidden fear, a nervous trembling, a sense of insecurity. And this\nis due to their upbringing. They know that the sages, statesmen\nand artists whom today they revere, were yesterday spurned as\nswindlers and charlatans. And the higher the segment in the\ntriangle, the better defined is this fear, this modern sense of\ninsecurity. Here and there are people with eyes which can see,\nminds which can correlate. They say to themselves: \"If the\nscience of the day before yesterday is rejected by the people of\nyesterday, and that of yesterday by us of today, is it not\npossible that what we call science now will be rejected by the\nmen of tomorrow?\" And the bravest of them answer, \"It is\npossible.\"\n\nThen people appear who can distinguish those problems that the\nscience of today has not yet explained. And they ask themselves:\n\"Will science, if it continues on the road it has followed for so\nlong, ever attain to the solution of these problems? And if it\ndoes so attain, will men be able to rely on its solution?\" In\nthese segments are also professional men of learning who can\nremember the time when facts now recognized by the Academies as\nfirmly established, were scorned by those same Academies. There\nare also philosophers of aesthetic who write profound books about\nan art which was yesterday condemned as nonsense. In writing\nthese books they remove the barriers over which art has most\nrecently stepped and set up new ones which are to remain for ever\nin the places they have chosen. They do not notice that they are\nbusy erecting barriers, not in front of art, but behind it. And\nif they do notice this, on the morrow they merely write fresh\nbooks and hastily set their barriers a little further on. This\nperformance will go on unaltered until it is realized that the\nmost extreme principle of aesthetic can never be of value to the\nfuture, but only to the past. No such theory of principle can be\nlaid down for those things which lie beyond, in the realm of the\nimmaterial. That which has no material existence cannot be\nsubjected to a material classification. That which belongs to the\nspirit of the future can only be realized in feeling, and to this\nfeeling the talent of the artist is the only road. Theory is the\nlamp which sheds light on the petrified ideas of yesterday and of\nthe more distant past. [Footnote: Cf. Chapter VII.] And as we\nrise higher in the triangle we find that the uneasiness\nincreases, as a city built on the most correct architectural plan\nmay be shaken suddenly by the uncontrollable force of nature.\nHumanity is living in such a spiritual city, subject to these\nsudden disturbances for which neither architects nor\nmathematicians have made allowance. In one place lies a great\nwall crumbled to pieces like a card house, in another are the\nruins of a huge tower which once stretched to heaven, built on\nmany presumably immortal spiritual pillars. The abandoned\nchurchyard quakes and forgotten graves open and from them rise\nforgotten ghosts. Spots appear on the sun and the sun grows dark,\nand what theory can fight with darkness? And in this city live\nalso men deafened by false wisdom who hear no crash, and blinded\nby false wisdom, so that they say \"our sun will shine more\nbrightly than ever and soon the last spots will disappear.\" But\nsometime even these men will hear and see.\n\nBut when we get still higher there is no longer this\nbewilderment. There work is going on which boldly attacks those\npillars which men have set up. There we find other professional\nmen of learning who test matter again and again, who tremble\nbefore no problem, and who finally cast doubt on that very matter\nwhich was yesterday the foundation of everything, so that the\nwhole universe is shaken. Every day another scientific theory\nfinds bold discoverers who overstep the boundaries of prophecy\nand, forgetful of themselves, join the other soldiers in the\nconquest of some new summit and in the hopeless attack on some\nstubborn fortress. But \"there is no fortress that man cannot\novercome.\"\n\nOn the one hand, FACTS are being established which the science of\nyesterday dubbed swindles. Even newspapers, which are for the\nmost part the most obsequious servants of worldly success and of\nthe mob, and which trim their sails to every wind, find\nthemselves compelled to modify their ironical judgements on the\n\"marvels\" of science and even to abandon them altogether. Various\nlearned men, among them ultra-materialists, dedicate their\nstrength to the scientific research of doubtful problems, which\ncan no longer be lied about or passed over in silence. [Footnote:\nZoller, Wagner, Butleroff (St. Petersburg), Crookes (London),\netc.; later on, C. H. Richet, C. Flammarion. The Parisian paper\nLe Matin, published about two years ago the discoveries of the\ntwo last named under the title \"Je le constate, mais je ne\nl'explique pas.\" Finally there are C. Lombroso, the inventor of\nthe anthropological method of diagnosing crime, and Eusapio\nPalladino.]\n\nOn the other hand, the number is increasing of those men who put no\ntrust in the methods of materialistic science when it deals with those\nquestions which have to do with \"non-matter,\" or matter which is not\naccessible to our minds. Just as art is looking for help from the\nprimitives, so these men are turning to half-forgotten times in order to\nget help from their half-forgotten methods. However, these very methods\nare still alive and in use among nations whom we, from the height of our\nknowledge, have been accustomed to regard with pity and scorn. To such\nnations belong the Indians, who from time to time confront those learned\nin our civilization with problems which we have either passed by\nunnoticed or brushed aside with superficial words and explanations.\n[Footnote: Frequently in such cases use is made of the word hypnotism;\nthat same hypnotism which, in its earlier form of mesmerism, was\ndisdainfully put aside by various learned bodies.] Mme. Blavatsky was\nthe first person, after a life of many years in India, to see a\nconnection between these \"savages\" and our \"civilization.\" From that\nmoment there began a tremendous spiritual movement which today includes\na large number of people and has even assumed a material form in the\nTHEOSOPHICAL SOCIETY. This society consists of groups who seek to\napproach the problem of the spirit by way of the INNER knowledge. The\ntheory of Theosophy which serves as the basis to this movement was set\nout by Blavatsky in the form of a catechism in which the pupil receives\ndefinite answers to his questions from the theosophical point of view.\n[Footnote: E. P. Blavatsky, The Key of Theosophy, London, 1889.]\nTheosophy, according to Blavatsky, is synonymous with ETERNAL TRUTH.\n\"The new torchbearer of truth will find the minds of men prepared for\nhis message, a language ready for him in which to clothe the new truths\nhe brings, an organization awaiting his arrival, which will remove the\nmerely mechanical, material obstacles and difficulties from his path.\"\nAnd then Blavatsky continues: \"The earth will be a heaven in the\ntwenty-first century in comparison with what it is now,\" and with these\nwords ends her book.\n\nWhen religion, science and morality are shaken, the two last by\nthe strong hand of Nietzsche, and when the outer supports\nthreaten to fall, man turns his gaze from externals in on to\nhimself. Literature, music and art are the first and most\nsensitive spheres in which this spiritual revolution makes itself\nfelt. They reflect the dark picture of the present time and show\nthe importance of what at first was only a little point of light\nnoticed by few and for the great majority non-existent. Perhaps\nthey even grow dark in their turn, but on the other hand they\nturn away from the soulless life of the present towards those\nsubstances and ideas which give free scope to the non-material\nstrivings of the soul.\n\nA poet of this kind in the realm of literature is Maeterlinck. He\ntakes us into a world which, rightly or wrongly, we term\nsupernatural. La Princesse Maleine, Les Sept Princesses, Les\nAveugles, etc., are not people of past times as are the heroes in\nShakespeare. They are merely souls lost in the clouds, threatened\nby them with death, eternally menaced by some invisible and\nsombre power.\n\nSpiritual darkness, the insecurity of ignorance and fear pervade\nthe world in which they move. Maeterlinck is perhaps one of the\nfirst prophets, one of the first artistic reformers and seers to\nherald the end of the decadence just described. The gloom of the\nspiritual atmosphere, the terrible, but all-guiding hand, the\nsense of utter fear, the feeling of having strayed from the path,\nthe confusion among the guides, all these are clearly felt in his\nworks.[Footnote: To the front tank of such seers of the decadence\nbelongs also Alfred Kubin. With irresistible force both Kubin's\ndrawings and also his novel \"Die Andere Seite\" seem to engulf us\nin the terrible atmosphere of empty desolation.]\n\nThis atmosphere Maeterlinck creates principally by purely\nartistic means. His material machinery (gloomy mountains,\nmoonlight, marshes, wind, the cries of owls, etc.) plays really a\nsymbolic role and helps to give  the inner note. [Footnote: When\none of Maeterlinck's plays was produced in St. Petersburg under\nhis own guidance, he himself at one of the rehearsals had a tower\nrepresented by a plain piece of hanging linen. It was of no\nimportance to him to have elaborate scenery prepared. He did as\nchildren, the greatest imaginers of all time, always do in their\ngames; for they use a stick for a horse or create entire\nregiments of cavalry out of chalks. And in the same way a chalk\nwith a notch in it is changed from a knight into a horse. On\nsimilar lines the imagination of the spectator plays in the\nmodern theatre, and especially in that of Russia, an important\npart. And this is a notable element in the transition from the\nmaterial to the spiritual in the theatre of the future.]\nMaeterlinck's principal technical weapon is his use of words. The\nword may express an inner harmony. This inner harmony springs\npartly, perhaps principally, from the object which it names. But\nif the object is not itself seen, but only its name heard, the\nmind of the hearer receives an abstract impression only, that is\nto say as of the object dematerialized, and a corresponding\nvibration is immediately set up in the HEART.\n\nThe apt use of a word (in its poetical meaning), repetition of this\nword, twice, three times or even more frequently, according to the need\nof the poem, will not only tend to intensify the inner harmony but also\nbring to light unsuspected spiritual properties of the word itself.\nFurther than that, frequent repetition of a word (again a favourite game\nof children, which is forgotten in after life) deprives the word of its\noriginal external meaning. Similarly, in drawing, the abstract message\nof the object drawn tends to be forgotten and its meaning lost.\nSometimes perhaps we unconsciously hear this real harmony sounding\ntogether with the material or later on with the non-material sense of\nthe object. But in the latter case the true harmony exercises a direct\nimpression on the soul. The soul undergoes an emotion which has no\nrelation to any definite object, an emotion more complicated, I might\nsay more super-sensuous than the emotion caused by the sound of a bell\nor of a stringed instrument. This line of development offers great\npossibilities to the literature of the future. In an embryonic form this\nword-power-has already been used in SERRES CHAUDES. [Footnote: SERRES\nCHAUDES, SUIVIES DE QUINZE CHANSONS, par Maurice Maeterlinck. Brussels.\nLacomblez.] As Maeterlinck uses them, words which seem at first to\ncreate only a neutral impression have really a more subtle value. Even a\nfamiliar word like \"hair,\" if used in a certain way can intensify an\natmosphere of sorrow or despair. And this is Maeterlinck's method. He\nshows that thunder, lightning and a moon behind driving clouds, in\nthemselves material means, can be used in the theatre to create a\ngreater sense of terror than they do in nature.\n\nThe true inner forces do not lose their strength and effect so\neasily. [Footnote: A comparison between the work of Poe and\nMaeterlinck shows the course of artistic transition from the\nmaterial to the abstract.] An the word which has two meanings,\nthe first direct, the second indirect, is the pure material of\npoetry and of literature, the material which these arts alone can\nmanipulate and through which they speak to the spirit.\n\nSomething similar may be noticed in the music of Wagner. His\nfamous leitmotiv is an attempt to give personality to his\ncharacters by something beyond theatrical expedients and light\neffect. His method of using a definite motiv is a purely musical\nmethod. It creates a spiritual atmosphere by means of a musical\nphrase which precedes the hero, which he seems to radiate forth\nfrom any distance. [Footnote: Frequent attempts have shown that\nsuch a spiritual atmosphere can belong not only to heroes but to\nany human being. Sensitives cannot, for example, remain in a room\nin which a person has been who is spiritually antagonistic to\nthem, even though they know nothing of his existence.] The most\nmodern musicians like Debussy create a spiritual impression,\noften taken from nature, but embodied in purely musical form. For\nthis reason Debussy is often classed with the Impressionist\npainters on the ground that he resembles these painters in using\nnatural phenomena for the purposes of his art. Whatever truth\nthere may be in this comparison merely accentuates the fact that\nthe various arts of today learn from each other and often\nresemble each other. But it would be rash to say that this\ndefinition is an exhaustive statement of Debussy's significance.\nDespite his similarity with the Impressionists this musician is\ndeeply concerned with spiritual harmony, for in his works one\nhears the suffering and tortured nerves of the present time. And\nfurther Debussy never uses the wholly material note so\ncharacteristic of programme music, but trusts mainly in the\ncreation of a more abstract impression. Debussy has been greatly\ninfluenced by Russian music, notably by Mussorgsky. So it is not\nsurprising that he stands in close relation to the young Russian\ncomposers, the chief of whom is Scriabin. The experience of the\nhearer is frequently the same during the performance of the works\nof these two musicians. He is often snatched quite suddenly from\na series of modern discords into the charm of more or less\nconventional beauty. He feels himself often insulted, tossed\nabout like a tennis ball over the net between the two parties of\nthe outer and the inner beauty. To those who are not accustomed\nto it the inner beauty appears as ugliness because humanity in\ngeneral inclines to the outer and knows nothing of the inner.\nAlmost alone in severing himself from conventional beauty is the\nAustrian composer, Arnold Schonberg. He says in his\nHarmonielehre: \"Every combination of notes, every advance is\npossible, but I am beginning to feel that there are also definite\nrules and conditions which incline me to the use of this or that\ndissonance.\" [Footnote: \"Die Musik,\" p. 104, from the\nHarmonielehre (Verlag der Universal Edition).] This means that\nSchonberg realizes that the greatest freedom of all, the freedom\nof an unfettered art, can never be absolute. Every age achieves a\ncertain measure of this freedom, but beyond the boundaries of its\nfreedom the mightiest genius can never go. But the measure of\nfreedom of each age must be constantly enlarged. Schonberg is\nendeavouring to make complete use of his freedom and has already\ndiscovered gold mines of new beauty in his search for spiritual\nharmony. His music leads us into a realm where musical experience\nis a matter not of the ear but of the soul alone--and from this\npoint begins the music of the future.\n\nA parallel course has been followed by the Impressionist movement\nin painting. It is seen in its dogmatic and most naturalistic\nform in so-called Neo-Impressionism. The theory of this is to put\non the canvas the whole glitter and brilliance of nature, and not\nonly an isolated aspect of her.\n\nIt is interesting to notice three practically contemporary and\ntotally different groups in painting. They are (1) Rossetti and\nhis pupil Burne-Jones, with their followers; (2) Bocklin and his\nschool; (3) Segantini, with his unworthy following of\nphotographic artists. I have chosen these three groups to\nillustrate the search for the abstract in art. Rossetti sought to\nrevive the non-materialism of the pre-Raphaelites. Bocklin busied\nhimself with the mythological scenes, but was in contrast to\nRossetti in that he gave strongly material form to his legendary\nfigures. Segantini, outwardly the most material of the three,\nselected the most ordinary objects (hills, stones, cattle, etc.)\noften painting them with the minutest realism, but he never\nfailed to create a spiritual as well as a material value, so that\nreally he is the most non-material of the trio.\n\nThese men sought for the \"inner\" by way of the \"outer.\"\n\nBy another road, and one more purely artistic, the great seeker\nafter a new sense of form approached the same problem. Cezanne\nmade a living thing out of a teacup, or rather in a teacup he\nrealized the existence of something alive. He raised still life\nto such a point that it ceased to be inanimate.\n\nHe painted these things as he painted human beings, because he\nwas endowed with the gift of divining the inner life in\neverything. His colour and form are alike suitable to the\nspiritual harmony. A man, a tree, an apple, all were used by\nCezanne in the creation of something that is called a \"picture,\"\nand which is a piece of true inward and artistic harmony. The\nsame intention actuates the work of one of the greatest of the\nyoung Frenchmen, Henri Matisse. He paints \"pictures,\" and in\nthese \"pictures\" endeavours to reproduce the divine.[Footnote:\nCf. his article in KUNST UND KUNSTLER, 1909, No. 8.] To attain\nthis end he requires as a starting point nothing but the object\nto be painted (human being or whatever it may be), and then the\nmethods that belong to painting alone, colour and form.\n\nBy personal inclination, because he is French and because he is\nspecially gifted as a colourist, Matisse is apt to lay too much\nstress on the colour. Like Debussy, he cannot always refrain from\nconventional beauty; Impressionism is in his blood. One sees\npictures of Matisse which are full of great inward vitality,\nproduced by the stress of the inner need, and also pictures which\npossess only outer charm, because they were painted on an outer\nimpulse. (How often one is reminded of Manet in this.) His work\nseems to be typical French painting, with its dainty sense of\nmelody, raised from time to time to the summit of a great hill\nabove the clouds.\n\nBut in the work of another great artist in Paris, the Spaniard Pablo\nPicasso, there is never any suspicion of this conventional beauty.\nTossed hither and thither by the need for self-expression, Picasso\nhurries from one manner to another. At times a great gulf appears\nbetween consecutive manners, because Picasso leaps boldly and is found\ncontinually by his bewildered crowd of followers standing at a point\nvery different from that at which they saw him last. No sooner do they\nthink that they have reached him again than he has changed once more. In\nthis way there arose Cubism, the latest of the French movements, which\nis treated in detail in Part II. Picasso is trying to arrive at\nconstructiveness by way of proportion. In his latest works (1911) he has\nachieved the logical destruction of matter, not, however, by dissolution\nbut rather by a kind of a parcelling out of its various divisions and a\nconstructive scattering of these divisions about the canvas. But he\nseems in this most recent work distinctly desirous of keeping an\nappearance of matter. He shrinks from no innovation, and if colour seems\nlikely to balk him in his search for a pure artistic form, he throws it\noverboard and paints a picture in brown and white; and the problem of\npurely artistic form is the real problem of his life.\n\nIn their pursuit of the same supreme end Matisse and Picasso\nstand side by side, Matisse representing colour and Picasso form.\n\n\n\nIV. THE PYRAMID\n\n\n\nAnd so at different points along the road are the different arts,\nsaying what they are best able to say, and in the language which\nis peculiarly their own. Despite, or perhaps thanks to, the\ndifferences between them, there has never been a time when the\narts approached each other more nearly than they do today, in\nthis later phase of spiritual development.\n\nIn each manifestation is the seed of a striving towards the\nabstract, the non-material. Consciously or unconsciously they are\nobeying Socrates' command--Know thyself. Consciously or\nunconsciously artists are studying and proving their material,\nsetting in the balance the spiritual value of those elements,\nwith which it is their several privilege to work.\n\nAnd the natural result of this striving is that the various arts\nare drawing together. They are finding in Music the best teacher.\nWith few exceptions music has been for some centuries the art\nwhich has devoted itself not to the reproduction of natural\nphenomena, but rather to the expression of the artist's soul, in\nmusical sound.\n\nA painter, who finds no satisfaction in mere representation,\nhowever artistic, in his longing to express his inner life,\ncannot but envy the ease with which music, the most non-material\nof the arts today, achieves this end. He naturally seeks to apply\nthe methods of music to his own art. And from this results that\nmodern desire for rhythm in painting, for mathematical, abstract\nconstruction, for repeated notes of colour, for setting colour in\nmotion.\n\nThis borrowing of method by one art from another, can only be\ntruly successful when the application of the borrowed methods is\nnot superficial but fundamental. One art must learn first how\nanother uses its methods, so that the methods may afterwards be\napplied to the borrower's art from the beginning, and suitably.\nThe artist must not forget that in him lies the power of true\napplication of every method, but that that power must be\ndeveloped.\n\nIn manipulation of form music can achieve results which are\nbeyond the reach of painting. On the other hand, painting is\nahead of music in several particulars. Music, for example, has at\nits disposal duration of time; while painting can present to the\nspectator the whole content of its message at one moment.\n[Footnote: These statements of difference are, of course,\nrelative; for music can on occasions dispense with extension of\ntime, and painting make use of it.] Music, which is outwardly\nunfettered by nature, needs no definite form for its expression.\n\n[Footnote: How miserably music fails when attempting to express\nmaterial appearances is proved by the affected absurdity of\nprogramme music. Quite lately such experiments have been made.\nThe imitation in sound of croaking frogs, of farmyard noises, of\nhousehold duties, makes an excellent music hall turn and is\namusing enough. But in serious music such attempts are merely\nwarnings against any imitation of nature. Nature has her own\nlanguage, and a powerful one; this language cannot be imitated.\nThe sound of a farmyard in music is never successfully\nreproduced, and is unnecessary waste of time. The Stimmung of\nnature can be imparted by every art, not, however, by imitation,\nbut by the artistic divination of its inner spirit.]\n\nPainting today is almost exclusively concerned with the\nreproduction of natural forms and phenomena. Her business is now\nto test her strength and methods, to know herself as music has\ndone for a long time, and then to use her powers to a truly\nartistic end.\n\nAnd so the arts are encroaching one upon another, and from a\nproper use of this encroachment will rise the art that is truly\nmonumental. Every man who steeps himself in the spiritual\npossibilities of his art is a valuable helper in the building of\nthe spiritual pyramid which will some day reach to heaven.\n\n\n\nPART II: ABOUT PAINTING\n\n\n\nV. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL WORKING OF COLOUR\n\n\n\nTo let the eye stray over a palette, splashed with many colours,\nproduces a dual result. In the first place one receives a PURELY\nPHYSICAL IMPRESSION, one of pleasure and contentment at the\nvaried and beautiful colours. The eye is either warmed or else\nsoothed and cooled. But these physical sensations can only be of\nshort duration. They are merely superficial and leave no lasting\nimpression, for the soul is unaffected. But although the effect\nof the colours is forgotten when the eye is turned away, the\nsuperficial impression of varied colour may be the starting point\nof a whole chain of related sensations.\n\nOn the average man only the impressions caused by very familiar\nobjects, will be purely superficial. A first encounter with any\nnew phenomenon exercises immediately an impression on the soul.\nThis is the experience of the child discovering the world, to\nwhom every object is new. He sees a light, wishes to take hold of\nit, burns his finger and feels henceforward a proper respect for\nflame. But later he learns that light has a friendly as well as\nan unfriendly side, that it drives away the darkness, makes the\nday longer, is essential to warmth, cooking, play-acting. From\nthe mass of these discoveries is composed a knowledge of light,\nwhich is indelibly fixed in his mind. The strong, intensive\ninterest disappears and the various properties of flame are\nbalanced against each other. In this way the whole world becomes\ngradually disenchanted. It is realized that trees give shade,\nthat horses run fast and motor-cars still faster, that dogs bite,\nthat the figure seen in a mirror is not a real human being.\n\nAs the man develops, the circle of these experiences caused by\ndifferent beings and objects, grows ever wider. They acquire an\ninner meaning and eventually a spiritual harmony. It is the same\nwith colour, which makes only a momentary and superficial\nimpression on a soul but slightly developed in sensitiveness. But\neven this superficial impression varies in quality. The eye is\nstrongly attracted by light, clear colours, and still more\nstrongly attracted by those colours which are warm as well as\nclear; vermilion has the charm of flame, which has always\nattracted human beings. Keen lemon-yellow hurts the eye in time\nas a prolonged and shrill trumpet-note the ear, and the gazer\nturns away to seek relief in blue or green.\n\nBut to a more sensitive soul the effect of colours is deeper and\nintensely moving. And so we come to the second main result of\nlooking at colours: THEIR PSYCHIC EFFECT. They produce a\ncorresponding spiritual vibration, and it is only as a step\ntowards this spiritual vibration that the elementary physical\nimpression is of importance.\n\nWhether the psychic effect of colour is a direct one, as these last few\nlines imply, or whether it is the outcome of association, is perhaps\nopen to question. The soul being one with the body, the former may well\nexperience a psychic shock, caused by association acting on the latter.\nFor example, red may cause a sensation analogous to that caused by\nflame, because red is the colour of flame. A warm red will prove\nexciting, another shade of red will cause pain or disgust through\nassociation with running blood. In these cases colour awakens a\ncorresponding physical sensation, which undoubtedly works upon the soul.\n\nIf this were always the case, it would be easy to define by\nassociation the effects of colour upon other senses than that of\nsight. One might say that keen yellow looks sour, because it\nrecalls the taste of a lemon.\n\nBut such definitions are not universally possible. There are many\nexamples of colour working which refuse to be so classified. A\nDresden doctor relates of one of his patients, whom he designates\nas an \"exceptionally sensitive person,\" that he could not eat a\ncertain sauce without tasting \"blue,\" i.e. without experiencing a\nfeeling of seeing a blue color. [Footnote: Dr. Freudenberg.\n\"Spaltung der Personlichkeit\" (Ubersinnliche Welt. 1908. No. 2,\np. 64-65). The author also discusses the hearing of colour, and\nsays that here also no rules can be laid down. But cf. L.\nSabanejeff in \"Musik,\" Moscow, 1911, No. 9, where the imminent\npossibility of laying down a law is clearly hinted at.] It would\nbe possible to suggest, by way of explanation of this, that in\nhighly sensitive people, the way to the soul is so direct and the\nsoul itself so impressionable, that any impression of taste\ncommunicates itself immediately to the soul, and thence to the\nother organs of sense (in this case, the eyes). This would imply\nan echo or reverberation, such as occurs sometimes in musical\ninstruments which, without being touched, sound in harmony with\nsome other instrument struck at the moment.\n\nBut not only with taste has sight been known to work in harmony.\nMany colours have been described as rough or sticky, others as\nsmooth and uniform, so that one feels inclined to stroke them\n(e.g., dark ultramarine, chromic oxide green, and rose madder).\nEqually the distinction between warm and cold colours belongs to\nthis connection. Some colours appear soft (rose madder), others\nhard (cobalt green, blue-green oxide), so that even fresh from\nthe tube they seem to be dry.\n\nThe expression \"scented colours\" is frequently met with. And\nfinally the sound of colours is so definite that it would be hard\nto find anyone who would try to express bright yellow in the bass\nnotes, or dark lake in the treble.\n\n[Footnote: Much theory and practice have been devoted to this\nquestion. People have sought to paint in counterpoint. Also\nunmusical children have been successfully helped to play the\npiano by quoting a parallel in colour (e.g., of flowers). On\nthese lines Frau A. Sacharjin-Unkowsky has worked for several\nyears and has evolved a method of \"so describing sounds by\nnatural colours, and colours by natural sounds, that colour could\nbe heard and sound seen.\" The system has proved successful for\nseveral years both in the inventor's own school and the\nConservatoire at St. Petersburg. Finally Scriabin, on more\nspiritual lines, has paralleled sound and colours in a chart not\nunlike that of Frau Unkowsky. In \"Prometheus\" he has given\nconvincing proof of his theories. (His chart appeared in \"Musik,\"\nMoscow, 1911, No. 9.)]\n\n[Footnote: The converse question, i.e. the colour of sound, was\ntouched upon by Mallarme and systematized by his disciple Rene\nGhil, whose book, Traite du Verbe, gives the rules for\n\"l'instrumentation verbale.\"--M.T.H.S.]\n\nThe explanation by association will not suffice us in many, and\nthe most important cases. Those who have heard of chromotherapy\nwill know that coloured light can exercise very definite\ninfluences on the whole body. Attempts have been made with\ndifferent colours in the treatment of various nervous ailments.\nThey have shown that red light stimulates and excites the heart,\nwhile blue light can cause temporary paralysis. But when the\nexperiments come to be tried on animals and even plants, the\nassociation theory falls to the ground. So one is bound to admit\nthat the question is at present unexplored, but that colour can\nexercise enormous influence over the body as a physical organism.\n\nNo more sufficient, in the psychic sphere, is the theory of\nassociation. Generally speaking, colour is a power which directly\ninfluences the soul. Colour is the keyboard, the eyes are the\nhammers, the soul is the piano with many strings. The artist is\nthe hand which plays, touching one key or another, to cause\nvibrations in the soul.\n\nIT IS EVIDENT THEREFORE THAT COLOUR HARMONY MUST REST ONLY ON A\nCORRESPONDING VIBRATION IN THE HUMAN SOUL; AND THIS IS ONE OF THE\nGUIDING PRINCIPLES OF THE INNER NEED.\n\n[Footnote: The phrase \"inner need\" (innere Notwendigkeit) means\nprimarily the impulse felt by the artist for spiritual\nexpression. Kandinsky is apt, however, to use the phrase\nsometimes to mean not only the hunger for spiritual expression,\nbut also the actual expression itself.--M.T.H.S.]\n\n\n\nVI. THE LANGUAGE OF FORM AND COLOUR\n\n\n\nThe man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov'd with\nconcord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and\nspoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his\naffections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted. Mark the\nmusic. (The Merchant of Venice, Act v, Scene I.)\n\nMusical sound acts directly on the soul and finds an echo there because,\nthough to varying extents, music is innate in man.\n\n[Footnote: Cf. E. Jacques-Dalcroze in The Eurhythmics of\nJacques-Dalcroze. London, Constable.--M.T.H.S.]\n\n\"Everyone knows that yellow, orange, and red suggest ideas of joy and\nplenty\" (Delacroix). [Footnote: Cf. Paul Signac, D'Eugene Delacroix au\nNeo-Impressionisme. Paris. Floury. Also compare an interesting article\nby K. Schettler: \"Notizen uber die Farbe.\" (Decorative Kunst, 1901,\nFebruary).]\n\nThese two quotations show the deep relationship between the arts,\nand especially between music and painting. Goethe said that\npainting must count this relationship her main foundation, and by\nthis prophetic remark he seems to foretell the position in which\npainting is today. She stands, in fact, at the first stage of the\nroad by which she will, according to her own possibilities, make\nart an abstraction of thought and arrive finally at purely\nartistic composition. [Footnote: By \"Komposition\" Kandinsky here\nmeans, of course, an artistic creation. He is not referring to\nthe arrangement of the objects in a picture.--M.T.H.S.]\n\nPainting has two weapons at her disposal:\n\n     1. Colour.\n     2. Form.\n\nForm can stand alone as representing an object (either real or\notherwise) or as a purely abstract limit to a space or a surface.\n\nColour cannot stand alone; it cannot dispense with boundaries of some\nkind. [Footnote: Cf. A. Wallace Rimington. Colour music (OP. CIT.) where\nexperiments are recounted with a colour organ, which gives symphonies of\nrapidly changing colour without boundaries--except the unavoidable ones\nof the white curtain on which the colours are reflected.--M.T.H.S.] A\nnever-ending extent of red can only be seen in the mind; when the word\nred is heard, the colour is evoked without definite boundaries. If such\nare necessary they have deliberately to be imagined. But such red, as is\nseen by the mind and not by the eye, exercises at once a definite and an\nindefinite impression on the soul, and produces spiritual harmony. I say\n\"indefinite,\" because in itself it has no suggestion of warmth or cold,\nsuch attributes having to be imagined for it afterwards, as\nmodifications of the original \"redness.\" I say \"definite,\" because the\nspiritual harmony exists without any need for such subsequent attributes\nof warmth or cold. An analogous case is the sound of a trumpet which one\nhears when the word \"trumpet\" is pronounced. This sound is audible to\nthe soul, without the distinctive character of a trumpet heard in the\nopen air or in a room, played alone or with other instruments, in the\nhands of a postilion, a huntsman, a soldier, or a professional musician.\n\nBut when red is presented in a material form (as in painting) it\nmust possess (1) some definite shade of the many shades of red\nthat exist and (2) a limited surface, divided off from the other\ncolours, which are undoubtedly there. The first of these\nconditions (the subjective) is affected by the second (the\nobjective), for the neighbouring colours affect the shade of red.\n\nThis essential connection between colour and form brings us to\nthe question of the influences of form on colour. Form alone,\neven though totally abstract and geometrical, has a power of\ninner suggestion. A triangle (without the accessory consideration\nof its being acute-or obtuse-angled or equilateral) has a\nspiritual value of its own. In connection with other forms, this\nvalue may be somewhat modified, but remains in quality the same.\nThe case is similar with a circle, a square, or any conceivable\ngeometrical figure. [Footnote: The angle at which the triangle\nstands, and whether it is stationary or moving, are of importance\nto its spiritual value. This fact is specially worthy of the\npainter's consideration.] As above, with the red, we have here a\nsubjective substance in an objective shell.\n\nThe mutual influence of form and colour now becomes clear. A\nyellow triangle, a blue circle, a green square, or a green\ntriangle, a yellow circle, a blue square--all these are different\nand have different spiritual values.\n\nIt is evident that many colours are hampered and even nullified\nin effect by many forms. On the whole, keen colours are well\nsuited by sharp forms (e.g., a yellow triangle), and soft, deep\ncolours by round forms (e.g., a blue circle). But it must be\nremembered that an unsuitable combination of form and colour is\nnot necessarily discordant, but may, with manipulation, show the\nway to fresh possibilities of harmony.\n\nSince colours and forms are well-nigh innumerable, their\ncombination and their influences are likewise unending. The\nmaterial is inexhaustible.\n\nForm, in the narrow sense, is nothing but the separating line\nbetween surfaces of colour. That is its outer meaning. But it has\nalso an inner meaning, of varying intensity, [Footnote: It is\nnever literally true that any form is meaningless and \"says\nnothing.\" Every form in the world says something. But its message\noften fails to reach us, and even if it does, full understanding\nis often withheld from us.] and, properly speaking, FORM IS THE\nOUTWARD EXPRESSION OF THIS INNER MEANING. To use once more the\nmetaphor of the piano--the artist is the hand which, by playing\non this or that key (i.e., form), affects the human soul in this\nor that way. SO IT IS EVIDENT THAT FORM-HARMONY MUST REST ONLY ON\nA CORRESPONDING VIBRATION OF THE HUMAN SOUL; AND THIS IS A SECOND\nGUIDING PRINCIPLE OF THE INNER NEED.\n\nThe two aspects of form just mentioned define its two aims. The\ntask of limiting surfaces (the outer aspect) is well performed if\nthe inner meaning is fully expressed.\n\n[Footnote: The phrase \"full expression\" must be clearly\nunderstood. Form often is most expressive when least coherent. It\nis often most expressive when outwardly most imperfect, perhaps\nonly a stroke, a mere hint of outer meaning.]\n\nThe outer task may assume many different shapes; but it will\nnever fail in one of two purposes: (1) Either form aims at so\nlimiting surfaces as to fashion of them some material object; (2)\nOr form remains abstract, describing only a non-material,\nspiritual entity. Such non-material entities, with life and value\nas such, are a circle, a triangle, a rhombus, a trapeze, etc.,\nmany of them so complicated as to have no mathematical\ndenomination.\n\nBetween these two extremes lie the innumerable forms in which\nboth elements exist; with a preponderance either of the abstract\nor the material. These intermediate forms are, at present, the\nstore on which the artist has to draw. Purely abstract forms are\nbeyond the reach of the artist at present; they are too\nindefinite for him. To limit himself to the purely indefinite\nwould be to rob himself of possibilities, to exclude the human\nelement and therefore to weaken his power of expression.\n\nOn the other hand, there exists equally no purely material form.\nA material object cannot be absolutely reproduced. For good or\nevil, the artist has eyes and hands, which are perhaps more\nartistic than his intentions and refuse to aim at photography\nalone. Many genuine artists, who cannot be content with a mere\ninventory of material objects, seek to express the objects by\nwhat was once called \"idealization,\" then \"selection,\" and which\ntomorrow will again be called something different.\n\n[Footnote: The motive of idealization is so to beautify the organic form\nas to bring out its harmony and rouse poetic feeling. \"Selection\" aims\nnot so much at beautification as at emphasizing the character of the\nobject, by the omission of non-essentials. The desire of the future will\nbe purely the expression of the inner meaning. The organic form no\nlonger serves as direct object, but as the human words in which a divine\nmessage must be written, in order for it to be comprehensible to human\nminds.]\n\nThe impossibility and, in art, the uselessness of attempting to\ncopy an object exactly, the desire to give the object full\nexpression, are the impulses which drive the artist away from\n\"literal\" colouring to purely artistic aims. And that brings us\nto the question of composition. [Footnote: Here Kandinsky means\narrangement of the picture.--M.T.H.S.]\n\nPure artistic composition has two elements:\n\n1. The composition of the whole picture.\n\n2. The creation of the various forms which, by standing in\ndifferent relationships to each other, decide the composition of\nthe whole. [Footnote: The general composition will naturally\ninclude many little compositions which may be antagonistic to\neach other, though helping--perhaps by their very antagonism--the\nharmony of the whole. These little compositions have themselves\nsubdivisions of varied inner meanings.] Many objects have to be\nconsidered in the light of the whole, and so ordered as to suit\nthis whole. Singly they will have little meaning, being of\nimportance only in so far as they help the general effect. These\nsingle objects must be fashioned in one way only; and this, not\nbecause their own inner meaning demands that particular\nfashioning, but entirely because they have to serve as building\nmaterial for the whole composition. [Footnote: A good example is\nCezanne's \"Bathing Women,\" which is built in the form of a\ntriangle. Such building is an old principle, which was being\nabandoned only because academic usage had made it lifeless. But\nCezanne has given it new life. He does not use it to harmonize\nhis groups, but for purely artistic purposes. He distorts the\nhuman figure with perfect justification. Not only must the whole\nfigure follow the lines of the triangle, but each limb must grow\nnarrower from bottom to top. Raphael's \"Holy Family\" is an\nexample of triangular composition used only for the harmonizing\nof the group, and without any mystical motive.]\n\nSo the abstract idea is creeping into art, although, only\nyesterday, it was scorned and obscured by purely material ideals.\nIts gradual advance is natural enough, for in proportion as the\norganic form falls into the background, the abstract ideal\nachieves greater prominence.\n\nBut the organic form possesses all the same an inner harmony of\nits own, which may be either the same as that of its abstract\nparallel (thus producing a simple combination of the two\nelements) or totally different (in which case the combination may\nbe unavoidably discordant). However diminished in importance the\norganic form may be, its inner note will always be heard; and for\nthis reason the choice of material objects is an important one.\nThe spiritual accord of the organic with the abstract element may\nstrengthen the appeal of the latter (as much by contrast as by\nsimilarity) or may destroy it.\n\nSuppose a rhomboidal composition, made up of a number of human\nfigures. The artist asks himself: Are these human figures an\nabsolute necessity to the composition, or should they be replaced\nby other forms, and that without affecting the fundamental\nharmony of the whole? If the answer is \"Yes,\" we have a case in\nwhich the material appeal directly weakens the abstract appeal.\nThe human form must either be replaced by another object which,\nwhether by similarity or contrast, will strengthen the abstract\nappeal, or must remain a purely non-material symbol. [Footnote:\nCf. Translator's Introduction, pp. xviii and xx.--M.T.H.S.]\n\nOnce more the metaphor of the piano. For \"colour\" or \"form\"\nsubstitute \"object.\" Every object has its own life and therefore\nits own appeal; man is continually subject to these appeals. But\nthe results are often dubbed either sub--or super-conscious.\nNature, that is to say the ever-changing surroundings of man,\nsets in vibration the strings of the piano (the soul) by\nmanipulation of the keys (the various objects with their several\nappeals).\n\nThe impressions we receive, which often appear merely chaotic,\nconsist of three elements: the impression of the colour of the\nobject, of its form, and of its combined colour and form, i.e. of\nthe object itself.\n\nAt this point the individuality of the artist comes to the front\nand disposes, as he wills, these three elements. IT IS CLEAR,\nTHEREFORE, THAT THE CHOICE OF OBJECT (i.e. OF ONE OF THE ELEMENTS\nIN THE HARMONY OF FORM) MUST BE DECIDED ONLY BY A CORRESPONDING\nVIBRATION IN THE HUMAN SOUL; AND THIS IS A THIRD GUIDING\nPRINCIPLE OF THE INNER NEED.\n\nThe more abstract is form, the more clear and direct is its\nappeal. In any composition the material side may be more or less\nomitted in proportion as the forms used are more or less\nmaterial, and for them substituted pure abstractions, or largely\ndematerialized objects. The more an artist uses these abstracted\nforms, the deeper and more confidently will he advance into the\nkingdom of the abstract. And after him will follow the gazer at\nhis pictures, who also will have gradually acquired a greater\nfamiliarity with the language of that kingdom.\n\nMust we then abandon utterly all material objects and paint\nsolely in abstractions? The problem of harmonizing the appeal of\nthe material and the non-material shows us the answer to this\nquestion. As every word spoken rouses an inner vibration, so\nlikewise does every object represented. To deprive oneself of\nthis possibility is to limit one's powers of expression. That is\nat any rate the case at present. But besides this answer to the\nquestion, there is another, and one which art can always employ\nto any question beginning with \"must\": There is no \"must\" in art,\nbecause art is free.\n\nWith regard to the second problem of composition, the creation of\nthe single elements which are to compose the whole, it must be\nremembered that the same form in the same circumstances will\nalways have the same inner appeal. Only the circumstances are\nconstantly varying. It results that: (1) The ideal harmony alters\naccording to the relation to other forms of the form which causes\nit. (2) Even in similar relationship a slight approach to or\nwithdrawal from other forms may affect the harmony. [Footnote:\nThis is what is meant by \"an appeal of motion.\" For example, the\nappeal of an upright triangle is more steadfast and quiet than\nthat of one set obliquely on its side.] Nothing is absolute.\nForm-composition rests on a relative basis, depending on (1) the\nalterations in the mutual relations of forms one to another, (2)\nalterations in each individual form, down to the very smallest.\nEvery form is as sensitive as a puff of smoke, the slightest\nbreath will alter it completely. This extreme mobility makes it\neasier to obtain similar harmonies from the use of different\nforms, than from a repetition of the same one; though of course\nan exact replica of a spiritual harmony can never be produced. So\nlong as we are susceptible only to the appeal of a whole\ncomposition, this fact is of mainly theoretical importance. But\nwhen we become more sensitive by a constant use of abstract forms\n(which have no material interpretation) it will become of great\npractical significance. And so as art becomes more difficult, its\nwealth of expression in form becomes greater and greater. At the\nsame time the question of distortion in drawing falls out and is\nreplaced by the question how far the inner appeal of the\nparticular form is veiled or given full expression. And once more\nthe possibilities are extended, for combinations of veiled and\nfully expressed appeals suggest new LEITMOTIVEN in composition.\n\nWithout such development as this, form-composition is impossible.\nTo anyone who cannot experience the inner appeal of form (whether\nmaterial or abstract) such composition can never be other than\nmeaningless. Apparently aimless alterations in form-arrangement\nwill make art seem merely a game. So once more we are faced with\nthe same principle, which is to set art free, the principle of\nthe inner need.\n\nWhen features or limbs for artistic reasons are changed or\ndistorted, men reject the artistic problem and fall back on the\nsecondary question of anatomy. But, on our argument, this\nsecondary consideration does not appear, only the real, artistic\nquestion remaining. These apparently irresponsible, but really\nwell-reasoned alterations in form provide one of the storehouses\nof artistic possibilities.\n\nThe adaptability of forms, their organic but inward variations,\ntheir motion in the picture, their inclination to material or\nabstract, their mutual relations, either individually or as parts\nof a whole; further, the concord or discord of the various\nelements of a picture, the handling of groups, the combinations\nof veiled and openly expressed appeals, the use of rhythmical or\nunrhythmical, of geometrical or non-geometrical forms, their\ncontiguity or separation--all these things are the material for\ncounterpoint in painting.\n\nBut so long as colour is excluded, such counterpoint is confined\nto black and white. Colour provides a whole wealth of\npossibilities of her own, and when combined with form, yet a\nfurther series of possibilities. And all these will be\nexpressions of the inner need.\n\nThe inner need is built up of three mystical elements: (1) Every\nartist, as a creator, has something in him which calls for\nexpression (this is the element of personality). (2) Every\nartist, as child of his age, is impelled to express the spirit of\nhis age (this is the element of style)--dictated by the period\nand particular country to which the artist belongs (it is\ndoubtful how long the latter distinction will continue to exist).\n(3) Every artist, as a servant of art, has to help the cause of\nart (this is the element of pure artistry, which is constant in\nall ages and among all nationalities).\n\nA full understanding of the first two elements is necessary for a\nrealization of the third. But he who has this realization will\nrecognize that a rudely carved Indian column is an expression of\nthe same spirit as actuates any real work of art of today.\n\nIn the past and even today much talk is heard of \"personality\" in\nart. Talk of the coming \"style\" becomes more frequent daily. But\nfor all their importance today, these questions will have\ndisappeared after a few hundred or thousand years.\n\nOnly the third element--that of pure artistry--will remain for\never. An Egyptian carving speaks to us today more subtly than it\ndid to its chronological contemporaries; for they judged it with\nthe hampering knowledge of period and personality. But we can\njudge purely as an expression of the eternal artistry.\n\nSimilarly--the greater the part played in a modern work of art by\nthe two elements of style and personality, the better will it be\nappreciated by people today; but a modern work of art which is\nfull of the third element, will fail to reach the contemporary\nsoul. For many centuries have to pass away before the third\nelement can be received with understanding. But the artist in\nwhose work this third element predominates is the really great\nartist.\n\nBecause the elements of style and personality make up what is\ncalled the periodic characteristics of any work of art, the\n\"development\" of artistic forms must depend on their separation\nfrom the element of pure artistry, which knows neither period nor\nnationality. But as style and personality create in every epoch\ncertain definite forms, which, for all their superficial\ndifferences, are really closely related, these forms can be\nspoken of as one side of art--the SUBJECTIVE. Every artist\nchooses, from the forms which reflect his own time, those which\nare sympathetic to him, and expresses himself through them. So\nthe subjective element is the definite and external expression of\nthe inner, objective element.\n\nThe inevitable desire for outward expression of the OBJECTIVE\nelement is the impulse here defined as the \"inner need.\" The\nforms it borrows change from day to day, and, as it continually\nadvances, what is today a phrase of inner harmony becomes\ntomorrow one of outer harmony. It is clear, therefore, that the\ninner spirit of art only uses the outer form of any particular\nperiod as a stepping-stone to further expression.\n\nIn short, the working of the inner need and the development of\nart is an ever-advancing expression of the eternal and objective\nin the terms of the periodic and subjective.\n\nBecause the objective is forever exchanging the subjective\nexpression of today for that of tomorrow, each new extension of\nliberty in the use of outer form is hailed as the last and\nsupreme. At present we say that an artist can use any form he\nwishes, so long as he remains in touch with nature. But this\nlimitation, like all its predecessors, is only temporary. From\nthe point of view of the inner need, no limitation must be made.\nThe artist may use any form which his expression demands; for his\ninner impulse must find suitable outward expression.\n\nSo we see that a deliberate search for personality and \"style\" is\nnot only impossible, but comparatively unimportant. The close\nrelationship of art throughout the ages, is not a relationship in\noutward form but in inner meaning. And therefore the talk of\nschools, of lines of \"development,\" of \"principles of art,\" etc.,\nis based on misunderstanding and can only lead to confusion.\n\nThe artist must be blind to distinctions between \"recognized\" or\n\"unrecognized\" conventions of form, deaf to the transitory\nteaching and demands of his particular age. He must watch only\nthe trend of the inner need, and hearken to its words alone. Then\nhe will with safety employ means both sanctioned and forbidden by\nhis contemporaries. All means are sacred which are called for by\nthe inner need. All means are sinful which obscure that inner\nneed.\n\nIt is impossible to theorize about this ideal of art. In real art\ntheory does not precede practice, but follows her. Everything is,\nat first, a matter of feeling. Any theoretical scheme will be\nlacking in the essential of creation--the inner desire for\nexpression--which cannot be determined. Neither the quality of\nthe inner need, nor its subjective form, can be measured nor\nweighed.\n\n[Footnote: The many-sided genius of Leonardo devised a system of\nlittle spoons with which different colours were to be used, thus\ncreating a kind of mechanical harmony. One of his pupils, after\ntrying in vain to use this system, in despair asked one of his\ncolleagues how the master himself used the invention. The\ncolleague replied: \"The master never uses it at all.\"\n(Mereschowski, LEONARDO DA VINCI).]\n\nSuch a grammar of painting can only be temporarily guessed at,\nand should it ever be achieved, it will be not so much according\nto physical rules (which have so often been tried and which today\nthe Cubists are trying) as according to the rules of the inner\nneed, which are of the soul.\n\nThe inner need is the basic alike of small and great problems in\npainting. We are seeking today for the road which is to lead us\naway from the outer to the inner basis.\n\n[Footnote: The term \"outer,\" here used, must not be confused with\nthe term \"material\" used previously. I am using the former to\nmean \"outer need,\" which never goes beyond conventional limits,\nnor produces other than conventional beauty. The \"inner need\"\nknows no such limits, and often produces results conventionally\nconsidered \"ugly.\" But \"ugly\" itself is a conventional term, and\nonly means \"spiritually unsympathetic,\" being applied to some\nexpression of an inner need, either outgrown or not yet attained.\nBut everything which adequately expresses the inner need is\nbeautiful.]\n\nThe spirit, like the body, can be strengthened and developed by\nfrequent exercise. Just as the body, if neglected, grows weaker\nand finally impotent, so the spirit perishes if untended. And for\nthis reason it is necessary for the artist to know the starting\npoint for the exercise of his spirit.\n\nThe starting point is the study of colour and its effects on men.\n\nThere is no need to engage in the finer shades of complicated\ncolour, but rather at first to consider only the direct use of\nsimple colours.\n\nTo begin with, let us test the working on ourselves of individual\ncolours, and so make a simple chart, which will facilitate the\nconsideration of the whole question.\n\nTwo great divisions of colour occur to the mind at the outset:\ninto warm and cold, and into light and dark. To each colour there\nare therefore four shades of appeal--warm and light or warm and\ndark, or cold and light or cold and dark.\n\nGenerally speaking, warmth or cold in a colour means an approach\nrespectively to yellow or to blue. This distinction is, so to\nspeak, on one basis, the colour having a constant fundamental\nappeal, but assuming either a more material or more non-material\nquality. The movement is an horizontal one, the warm colours\napproaching the spectator, the cold ones retreating from him.\n\nThe colours, which cause in another colour this horizontal\nmovement, while they are themselves affected by it, have another\nmovement of their own, which acts with a violent separative\nforce. This is, therefore, the first antithesis in the inner\nappeal, and the inclination of the colour to yellow or to blue,\nis of tremendous importance.\n\nThe second antithesis is between white and black; i.e., the\ninclination to light or dark caused by the pair of colours just\nmentioned. These colours have once more their peculiar movement\nto and from the spectator, but in a more rigid form (see Fig. 1).\n\n\n\nFIGURE I\n\n\n\n First Pair of antitheses.           (inner appeal acting on\n         A and B.                           the spirit)\n\n\nA.       Warm               Cold\n        Yellow              Blue      = First antithesis\n\nTwo movements:\n\n        (i) horizontal\n\nTowards the spectator <-----<<< >>>-----> Away from the spectator\n     (bodily)                                  (spiritual)\n\n                        Yellow      Blue\n\n      (ii)          Ex-         and        concentric\n\n\nB.  Light                      Dark\n    White                      Black       = Second Antithesis\n\n\nTwo movements:\n\n     (i) discordant\n\nEternal discord, but with                Absolute discord, devoid\n possibilities for the    White   Black  of possibilities for the\n    future (birth)                         future (death)\n\n    (ii) ex-and concentric, as in case of yellow and blue, but\n         more rigid.\n\n\n\nYellow and blue have another movement which affects the first\nantithesis--an ex-and concentric movement. If two circles are\ndrawn and painted respectively yellow and blue, brief\nconcentration will reveal in the yellow a spreading movement out\nfrom the centre, and a noticeable approach to the spectator. The\nblue, on the other hand, moves in upon itself, like a snail\nretreating into its shell, and draws away from the spectator.\n[Footnote: These statements have no scientific basis, but are\nfounded purely on spiritual experience.]\n\nIn the case of light and dark colours the movement is emphasized.\nThat of the yellow increases with an admixture of white, i.e., as\nit becomes lighter. That of the blue increases with an admixture\nof black, i.e., as it becomes darker. This means that there can\nnever be a dark-coloured yellow. The relationship between white\nand yellow is as close as between black and blue, for blue can be\nso dark as to border on black. Besides this physical\nrelationship, is also a spiritual one (between yellow and white\non one side, between blue and black on the other) which marks a\nstrong separation between the two pairs.\n\nAn attempt to make yellow colder produces a green tint and checks\nboth the horizontal and excentric movement. The colour becomes\nsickly and unreal. The blue by its contrary movement acts as a\nbrake on the yellow, and is hindered in its own movement, till\nthe two together become stationary, and the result is green.\nSimilarly a mixture of black and white produces gray, which is\nmotionless and spiritually very similar to green.\n\nBut while green, yellow, and blue are potentially active, though\ntemporarily paralysed, in gray there is no possibility of\nmovement, because gray consists of two colours that have no\nactive force, for they stand the, one in motionless discord, the\nother in a motionless negation, even of discord, like an endless\nwall or a bottomless pit.\n\nBecause the component colours of green are active and have a\nmovement of their own, it is possible, on the basis of this\nmovement, to reckon their spiritual appeal.\n\nThe first movement of yellow, that of approach to the spectator\n(which can be increased by an intensification of the yellow), and\nalso the second movement, that of over-spreading the boundaries,\nhave a material parallel in the human energy which assails every\nobstacle blindly, and bursts forth aimlessly in every direction.\n\nYellow, if steadily gazed at in any geometrical form, has a\ndisturbing influence, and reveals in the colour an insistent,\naggressive character. [Footnote: It is worth noting that the\nsour-tasting lemon and shrill-singing canary are both yellow.]\nThe intensification of the yellow increases the painful\nshrillness of its note.\n\n[Footnote: Any parallel between colour and music can only be\nrelative. Just as a violin can give various shades of tone,--so\nyellow has shades, which can be expressed by various instruments.\nBut in making such parallels, I am assuming in each case a pure\ntone of colour or sound, unvaried by vibration or dampers, etc.]\n\nYellow is the typically earthly colour. It can never have\nprofound meaning. An intermixture of blue makes it a sickly\ncolour. It may be paralleled in human nature, with madness, not\nwith melancholy or hypochondriacal mania, but rather with violent\nraving lunacy.\n\nThe power of profound meaning is found in blue, and first in its\nphysical movements (1) of retreat from the spectator, (2) of\nturning in upon its own centre. The inclination of blue to depth\nis so strong that its inner appeal is stronger when its shade is\ndeeper.\n\nBlue is the typical heavenly colour.\n\n[Footnote: ...The halos are golden for emperors and prophets\n(i.e. for mortals), and sky-blue for symbolic figures (i.e.\nspiritual beings); (Kondakoff, Histoire de l'An Byzantine\nconsideree principalement dans les miniatures, vol. ii, p. 382,\nParis, 1886-91).]\n\nThe ultimate feeling it creates is one of rest.\n\n[Footnote: Supernatural rest, not the earthly contentment of\ngreen. The way to the supernatural lies through the natural. And\nwe mortals passing from the earthly yellow to the heavenly blue\nmust pass through green.]\n\nWhen it sinks almost to black, it echoes a grief that is hardly\nhuman.\n\n[Footnote: As an echo of grief violet stand to blue as does green\nin its production of rest.]\n\nWhen it rises towards white, a movement little suited to it, its\nappeal to men grows weaker and more distant. In music a light\nblue is like a flute, a darker blue a cello; a still darker a\nthunderous double bass; and the darkest blue of all-an organ.\n\nA well-balanced mixture of blue and yellow produces green. The\nhorizontal movement ceases; likewise that from and towards the\ncentre. The effect on the soul through the eye is therefore\nmotionless. This is a fact recognized not only by opticians but\nby the world. Green is the most restful colour that exists. On\nexhausted men this restfulness has a beneficial effect, but after\na time it becomes wearisome. Pictures painted in shades of green\nare passive and tend to be wearisome; this contrasts with the\nactive warmth of yellow or the active coolness of blue. In the\nhierarchy of colours green is the \"bourgeoisie\"-self-satisfied,\nimmovable, narrow. It is the colour of summer, the period when\nnature is resting from the storms of winter and the productive\nenergy of spring (cf. Fig. 2).\n\nAny preponderance in green of yellow or blue introduces a\ncorresponding activity and changes the inner appeal. The green\nkeeps its characteristic equanimity and restfulness, the former\nincreasing with the inclination to lightness, the latter with the\ninclination to depth. In music the absolute green is represented\nby the placid, middle notes of a violin.\n\nBlack and white have already been discussed in general terms.\nMore particularly speaking, white, although often considered as\nno colour (a theory largely due to the Impressionists, who saw no\nwhite in nature as a symbol of a world from which all colour as a\ndefinite attribute has disappeared).\n\n[Footnote: Van Gogh, in his letters, asks whether he may not\npaint a white wall dead white. This question offers no difficulty\nto the non-representative artist who is concerned only with the\ninner harmony of colour. But to the impressionist-realist it\nseems a bold liberty to take with nature. To him it seems as\noutrageous as his own change from brown shadows to blue seemed to\nhis contemporaries. Van Gogh's question marks a transition from\nImpressionism to an art of spiritual harmony, as the coming of\nthe blue shadow marked a transition from academism to\nImpressionism. (Cf. The Letters of Vincent van Gogh. Constable,\nLondon.)]\n\nThis world is too far above us for its harmony to touch our\nsouls. A great silence, like an impenetrable wall, shrouds its\nlife from our understanding. White, therefore, has this harmony\nof silence, which works upon us negatively, like many pauses in\nmusic that break temporarily the melody. It is not a dead\nsilence, but one pregnant with possibilities. White has the\nappeal of the nothingness that is before birth, of the world in\nthe ice age.\n\nA totally dead silence, on the other hand, a silence with no\npossibilities, has the inner harmony of black. In music it is\nrepresented by one of those profound and final pauses, after\nwhich any continuation of the melody seems the dawn of another\nworld. Black is something burnt out, like the ashes of a funeral\npyre, something motionless like a corpse. The silence of black is\nthe silence of death. Outwardly black is the colour with least\nharmony of all, a kind of neutral background against which the\nminutest shades of other colours stand clearly forward. It\ndiffers from white in this also, for with white nearly every\ncolour is in discord, or even mute altogether.\n\n[Footnote: E.g. vermilion rings dull and muddy against white, but\nagainst black with clear strength. Light yellow against white is\nweak, against black pure and brilliant.]\n\nNot without reason is white taken as symbolizing joy and spotless\npurity, and black grief and death. A blend of black and white\nproduces gray which, as has been said, is silent and motionless,\nbeing composed of two inactive colours, its restfulness having\nnone of the potential activity of green. A similar gray is\nproduced by a mixture of green and red, a spiritual blend of\npassivity and glowing warmth.\n\n[Footnote: Gray = immobility and rest. Delacroix sought to\nexpress rest by a mixture of green and red (cf. Signac, sup.\ncit.).]\n\nThe unbounded warmth of red has not the irresponsible appeal of\nyellow, but rings inwardly with a determined and powerful\nintensity. It glows in itself, maturely, and does not distribute\nits vigour aimlessly (see Fig. 2).\n\nThe varied powers of red are very striking. By a skillful use of\nit in its different shades, its fundamental tone may be made warm\nor cold.\n\n[Footnote: Of course every colour can be to some extent varied\nbetween warm and cold, but no colour has so extensive a scale of\nvarieties as red.]\n\nLight warm red has a certain similarity to medium yellow, alike\nin texture and appeal, and gives a feeling of strength, vigour,\ndetermination, triumph. In music, it is a sound of trumpets,\nstrong, harsh, and ringing.\n\nVermilion is a red with a feeling of sharpness, like glowing\nsteel which can be cooled by water. Vermilion is quenched by\nblue, for it can support no mixture with a cold colour. More\naccurately speaking, such a mixture produces what is called a\ndirty colour, scorned by painters of today. But \"dirt\" as a\nmaterial object has its own inner appeal, and therefore to avoid\nit in painting, is as unjust and narrow as was the cry of\nyesterday for pure colour. At the call of the inner need that\nwhich is outwardly foul may be inwardly pure, and vice versa.\n\nThe two shades of red just discussed are similar to yellow,\nexcept that they reach out less to the spectator. The glow of red\nis within itself. For this reason it is a colour more beloved\nthan yellow, being frequently used in primitive and traditional\ndecoration, and also in peasant costumes, because in the open air\nthe harmony of red and green is very beautiful. Taken by itself\nthis red is material, and, like yellow, has no very deep appeal.\nOnly when combined with something nobler does it acquire this\ndeep appeal. It is dangerous to seek to deepen red by an\nadmixture of black, for black quenches the glow, or at least\nreduces it considerably.\n\nBut there remains brown, unemotional, disinclined for movement.\nAn intermixture of red is outwardly barely audible, but there\nrings out a powerful inner harmony. Skillful blending can produce\nan inner appeal of extraordinary, indescribable beauty. The\nvermilion now rings like a great trumpet, or thunders like a\ndrum.\n\nCool red (madder) like any other fundamentally cold colour, can\nbe deepened--especially by an intermixture of azure. The\ncharacter of the colour changes; the inward glow increases, the\nactive element gradually disappears. But this active element is\nnever so wholly absent as in deep green. There always remains a\nhint of renewed vigour, somewhere out of sight, waiting for a\ncertain moment to burst forth afresh. In this lies the great\ndifference between a deepened red and a deepened blue, because in\nred there is always a trace of the material. A parallel in music\nare the sad, middle tones of a cello. A cold, light red contains\na very distinct bodily or material element, but it is always\npure, like the fresh beauty of the face of a young girl. The\nsinging notes of a violin express this exactly in music.\n\nWarm red, intensified by a suitable yellow, is orange. This blend\nbrings red almost to the point of spreading out towards the\nspectator. But the element of red is always sufficiently strong\nto keep the colour from flippancy. Orange is like a man,\nconvinced of his own powers. Its note is that of the angelus, or\nof an old violin.\n\nJust as orange is red brought nearer to humanity by yellow, so\nviolet is red withdrawn from humanity by blue. But the red in\nviolet must be cold, for the spiritual need does not allow of a\nmixture of warm red with cold blue.\n\nViolet is therefore both in the physical and spiritual sense a\ncooled red. It is consequently rather sad and ailing. It is worn\nby old women, and in China as a sign of mourning. In music it is\nan English horn, or the deep notes of wood instruments (e.g. a\nbassoon).\n\n[Footnote: Among artists one often hears the question, \"How are\nyou?\" answered gloomily by the words \"Feeling very violet.\"]\n\nThe two last mentioned colours (orange and violet) are the fourth\nand last pair of antitheses of the primitive colours. They stand\nto each other in the same relation as the third antitheses--green\nand red--i.e., as complementary colours (see Fig. 2).\n\n\n\nFIGURE II\n\n\n\nSecond Pair of antitheses    (physical appeal of complementary\n       C and D                            colours)\n\nC.       Red            Green       = Third antithesis\n       Movement                 of the spiritually extinguished\n                                         First antithesis\n\n\nMotion within itself   [CIRCLE]  = Potentiality of motion\n                                 = Motionlessness\n\n                          Red\n\nEx-and concentric movements are absent\n                     In optical blend    = Gray\nIn mechanical blend of white and black   = Gray\n\nD.      Orange            Violet           = Fourth antithesis\n\nArise out of the first antithesis from:\n\n1. Active element of the yellow in red   = Orange\n2. Passive element of the blue in red    = Violet\n\n<---Orange---Yellow<--<--<--Red-->-->-->Blue---Violet--->\n\n     In excentric      Motion within      In Concentric\n       direction          itself             direction\n\n\n\nAs in a great circle, a serpent biting its own tail (the symbol\nof eternity, of something without end) the six colours appear\nthat make up the three main antitheses. And to right and left\nstand the two great possibilities of silence--death and birth\n(see Fig. 3).\n\n\n\nFIGURE III.\n\n\n                      A\n                    Yellow\n                   /      \\\n                  /        \\\n                 /          \\\n                D            C\n   B          Orange       Green        B\n White          |            |        Black\n                |            |\n                |            |\n                C            D\n               Red         Violet\n                 \\          /\n                  \\        /\n                   \\  A   /\n                     Blue\n\n\nThe antitheses as a circle between two poles, i.e., the life of\ncolours between birth and death.\n\n(The capital letters designate the pairs of antitheses.)\n\n\n\nIt is clear that all I have said of these simple colours is very\nprovisional and general, and so also are those feelings (joy,\ngrief, etc.) which have been quoted as parallels of the colours.\nFor these feelings are only the material expressions of the soul.\nShades of colour, like those of sound, are of a much finer\ntexture and awake in the soul emotions too fine to be expressed\nin words. Certainly each tone will find some probable expression\nin words, but it will always be incomplete, and that part which\nthe word fails to express will not be unimportant but rather the\nvery kernel of its existence. For this reason words are, and will\nalways remain, only hints, mere suggestions of colours. In this\nimpossibility of expressing colour in words with the consequent\nneed for some other mode of expression lies the opportunity of\nthe art of the future. In this art among innumerable rich and\nvaried combinations there is one which is founded on firm fact,\nand that is as follows. The actual expression of colour can be\nachieved simultaneously by several forms of art, each art playing\nits separate part, and producing a whole which exceeds in\nrichness and force any expression attainable by one art alone.\nThe immense possibilities of depth and strength to be gained by\ncombination or by discord between the various arts can be easily\nrealized.\n\nIt is often said that admission of the possibility of one art\nhelping another amounts to a denial of the necessary differences\nbetween the arts. This is, however, not the case. As has been\nsaid, an absolutely similar inner appeal cannot be achieved by\ntwo different arts. Even if it were possible the second version\nwould differ at least outwardly. But suppose this were not the\ncase, that is to say, suppose a repetition of the same appeal\nexactly alike both outwardly and inwardly could be achieved by\ndifferent arts, such repetition would not be merely superfluous.\nTo begin with, different people find sympathy in different forms\nof art (alike on the active and passive side among the creators\nor the receivers of the appeal); but further and more important,\nrepetition of the same appeal thickens the spiritual atmosphere\nwhich is necessary for the maturing of the finest feelings, in\nthe same way as the hot air of a greenhouse is necessary for the\nripening of certain fruit. An example of this is the case of the\nindividual who receives a powerful impression from constantly\nrepeated actions, thoughts or feelings, although if they came\nsingly they might have passed by unnoticed. [Footnote: This idea\nforms, of course, the fundamental reason for advertisement.] We\nmust not, however, apply this rule only to the simple examples of\nthe spiritual atmosphere. For this atmosphere is like air, which\ncan be either pure or filled with various alien elements. Not\nonly visible actions, thoughts and feelings, with outward\nexpression, make up this atmosphere, but secret happenings of\nwhich no one knows, unspoken thoughts, hidden feelings are also\nelements in it. Suicide, murder, violence, low and unworthy\nthoughts, hate, hostility, egotism, envy, narrow \"patriotism,\"\npartisanship, are elements in the spiritual atmosphere.\n\n[Footnote: Epidemics of suicide or of violent warlike feeling,\netc., are products of this impure atmosphere.]\n\nAnd conversely, self-sacrifice, mutual help, lofty thoughts,\nlove, un-selfishness, joy in the success of others, humanity,\njustness, are the elements which slay those already enumerated as\nthe sun slays the microbes, and restore the atmosphere to purity.\n\n[Footnote: These elements likewise have their historical\nperiods.]\n\nThe second and more complicated form of repetition is that in\nwhich several different elements make mutual use of different\nforms. In our case these elements are the different arts summed\nup in the art of the future. And this form of repetition is even\nmore powerful, for the different natures of men respond to the\ndifferent elements in the combination. For one the musical form\nis the most moving and impressive; for another the pictorial, for\nthe third the literary, and so on. There reside, therefore, in\narts which are outwardly different, hidden forces equally\ndifferent, so that they may all work in one man towards a single\nresult, even though each art may be working in isolation.\n\nThis sharply defined working of individual colours is the basis\non which various values can be built up in harmony. Pictures will\ncome to be painted--veritable artistic arrangements, planned in\nshades of one colour chosen according to artistic feeling. The\ncarrying out of one colour, the binding together and admixture of\ntwo related colours, are the foundations of most coloured\nharmonies. From what has been said above about colour working,\nfrom the fact that we live in a time of questioning, experiment\nand contradiction, we can draw the easy conclusion that for a\nharmonization on the basis of individual colours our age is\nespecially unsuitable. Perhaps with envy and with a mournful\nsympathy we listen to the music of Mozart. It acts as a welcome\npause in the turmoil of our inner life, as a consolation and as a\nhope, but we hear it as the echo of something from another age\nlong past and fundamentally strange to us. The strife of colours,\nthe sense of balance we have lost, tottering principles,\nunexpected assaults, great questions, apparently useless\nstriving, storm and tempest, broken chains, antitheses and\ncontradictions, these make up our harmony. The composition\narising from this harmony is a mingling of colour and form each\nwith its separate existence, but each blended into a common life\nwhich is called a picture by the force of the inner need. Only\nthese individual parts are vital. Everything else (such as\nsurrounding conditions) is subsidiary. The combination of two\ncolours is a logical outcome of modern conditions. The\ncombination of colours hitherto considered discordant, is merely\na further development. For example, the use, side by side, of red\nand blue, colours in themselves of no physical relationship, but\nfrom their very spiritual contrast of the strongest effect, is\none of the most frequent occurrences in modern choice of harmony.\n[Footnote: Cf. Gauguin, Noa Noa, where the artist states his\ndisinclination when he first arrived in Tahiti to juxtapose red\nand blue.] Harmony today rests chiefly on the principle of\ncontrast which has for all time been one of the most important\nprinciples of art. But our contrast is an inner contrast which\nstands alone and rejects the help (for that help would mean\ndestruction) of any other principles of harmony. It is\ninteresting to note that this very placing together of red and\nblue was so beloved by the primitive both in Germany and Italy\nthat it has till today survived, principally in folk pictures of\nreligious subjects. One often sees in such pictures the Virgin in\na red gown and a blue cloak. It seems that the artists wished to\nexpress the grace of heaven in terms of humanity, and humanity in\nterms of heaven. Legitimate and illegitimate combinations of\ncolours, contrasts of various colours, the over-painting of one\ncolour with another, the definition of coloured surfaces by\nboundaries of various forms, the overstepping of these\nboundaries, the mingling and the sharp separation of surfaces,\nall these open great vistas of artistic possibility.\n\nOne of the first steps in the turning away from material objects\ninto the realm of the abstract was, to use the technical artistic\nterm, the rejection of the third dimension, that is to say, the\nattempt to keep a picture on a single plane. Modelling was\nabandoned. In this way the material object was made more abstract\nand an important step forward was achieved--this step forward\nhas, however, had the effect of limiting the possibilities of\npainting to one definite piece of canvas, and this limitation has\nnot only introduced a very material element into painting, but\nhas seriously lessened its possibilities.\n\nAny attempt to free painting from this material limitation\ntogether with the striving after a new form of composition must\nconcern itself first of all with the destruction of this theory\nof one single surface--attempts must be made to bring the picture\non to some ideal plane which shall be expressed in terms of the\nmaterial plane of the canvas. [Footnote: Compare the article by\nLe Fauconnier in the catalogue of the second exhibition of the\nNeue Kunstlervereinigung, Munich, 1910-11.] There has arisen out\nof the composition in flat triangles a composition with plastic\nthree-dimensional triangles, that is to say with pyramids; and\nthat is Cubism. But there has arisen here also the tendency to\ninertia, to a concentration on this form for its own sake, and\nconsequently once more to an impoverishment of possibility. But\nthat is the unavoidable result of the external application of an\ninner principle.\n\nA further point of great importance must not be forgotten. There\nare other means of using the material plane as a space of three\ndimensions in order to create an ideal plane. The thinness or\nthickness of a line, the placing of the form on the surface, the\noverlaying of one form on another may be quoted as examples of\nartistic means that may be employed. Similar possibilities are\noffered by colour which, when rightly used, can advance or\nretreat, and can make of the picture a living thing, and so\nachieve an artistic expansion of space. The combination of both\nmeans of extension in harmony or concord is one of the richest\nand most powerful elements in purely artistic composition.\n\n\n\nVII. THEORY\n\n\n\nFrom the nature of modern harmony, it results that never has\nthere been a time when it was more difficult than it is today to\nformulate a complete theory, [Footnote: Attempts have been made.\nOnce more emphasis must be laid on the parallel with music. For\nexample, cf. \"Tendances Nouvelles,\" No. 35, Henri Ravel: \"The\nlaws of harmony are the same for painting and music.\"] or to lay\ndown a firm artistic basis. All attempts to do so would have one\nresult, namely, that already cited in the case of Leonardo and\nhis system of little spoons. It would, however, be precipitate to\nsay that there are no basic principles nor firm rules in\npainting, or that a search for them leads inevitably to\nacademism. Even music has a grammar, which, although modified\nfrom time to time, is of continual help and value as a kind of\ndictionary.\n\nPainting is, however, in a different position. The revolt from\ndependence on nature is only just beginning. Any realization of\nthe inner working of colour and form is so far unconscious. The\nsubjection of composition to some geometrical form is no new idea\n(cf. the art of the Persians). Construction on a purely abstract\nbasis is a slow business, and at first seemingly blind and\naimless. The artist must train not only his eye but also his\nsoul, so that he can test colours for themselves and not only by\nexternal impressions.\n\nIf we begin at once to break the bonds which bind us to nature,\nand devote ourselves purely to combination of pure colour and\nabstract form, we shall produce works which are mere decoration,\nwhich are suited to neckties or carpets. Beauty of Form and\nColour is no sufficient aim by itself, despite the assertions of\npure aesthetes or even of naturalists, who are obsessed with the\nidea of \"beauty.\" It is because of the elementary stage reached\nby our painting that we are so little able to grasp the inner\nharmony of true colour and form composition. The nerve vibrations\nare there, certainly, but they get no further than the nerves,\nbecause the corresponding vibrations of the spirit which they\ncall forth are too weak. When we remember, however, that\nspiritual experience is quickening, that positive science, the\nfirmest basis of human thought, is tottering, that dissolution of\nmatter is imminent, we have reason to hope that the hour of pure\ncomposition is not far away.\n\nIt must not be thought that pure decoration is lifeless. It has\nits inner being, but one which is either incomprehensible to us,\nas in the case of old decorative art, or which seems mere\nillogical confusion, as a world in which full-grown men and\nembryos play equal roles, in which beings deprived of limbs are\non a level with noses and toes which live isolated and of their\nown vitality. The confusion is like that of a kaleidoscope, which\nthough possessing a life of its own, belongs to another sphere.\nNevertheless, decoration has its effect on us; oriental\ndecoration quite differently to Swedish, savage, or ancient\nGreek. It is not for nothing that there is a general custom of\ndescribing samples of decoration as gay, serious, sad, etc., as\nmusic is described as Allegro, Serioso, etc., according to the\nnature of the piece.\n\nProbably conventional decoration had its beginnings in nature.\nBut when we would assert that external nature is the sole source\nof all art, we must remember that, in patterning, natural objects\nare used as symbols, almost as though they were mere\nhieroglyphics. For this reason we cannot gauge their inner\nharmony. For instance, we can bear a design of Chinese dragons in\nour dining or bed rooms, and are no more disturbed by it than by\na design of daisies.\n\nIt is possible that towards the close of our already dying epoch\na new decorative art will develop, but it is not likely to be\nfounded on geometrical form. At the present time any attempt to\ndefine this new art would be as useless as pulling a small bud\nopen so as to make a fully blown flower. Nowadays we are still\nbound to external nature and must find our means of expression in\nher. But how are we to do it? In other words, how far may we go\nin altering the forms and colours of this nature?\n\nWe may go as far as the artist is able to carry his emotion, and\nonce more we see how immense is the need for true emotion. A few\nexamples will make the meaning of this clearer.\n\nA warm red tone will materially alter in inner value when it is\nno longer considered as an isolated colour, as something\nabstract, but is applied as an element of some other object, and\ncombined with natural form. The variety of natural forms will\ncreate a variety of spiritual values, all of which will harmonize\nwith that of the original isolated red. Suppose we combine red\nwith sky, flowers, a garment, a face, a horse, a tree.\n\nA red sky suggests to us sunset, or fire, and has a consequent\neffect upon us--either of splendour or menace. Much depends now\non the way in which other objects are treated in connection with\nthis red sky. If the treatment is faithful to nature, but all the\nsame harmonious, the \"naturalistic\" appeal of the sky is\nstrengthened. If, however, the other objects are treated in a way\nwhich is more abstract, they tend to lessen, if not to destroy,\nthe naturalistic appeal of the sky. Much the same applies to the\nuse of red in a human face. In this case red can be employed to\nemphasize the passionate or other characteristics of the model,\nwith a force that only an extremely abstract treatment of the\nrest of the picture can subdue.\n\nA red garment is quite a different matter; for it can in reality\nbe of any colour. Red will, however, be found best to supply the\nneeds of pure artistry, for here alone can it be used without any\nassociation with material aims. The artist has to consider not\nonly the value of the red cloak by itself, but also its value in\nconnection with the figure wearing it, and further the relation\nof the figure to the whole picture. Suppose the picture to be a\nsad one, and the red-cloaked figure to be the central point on\nwhich the sadness is concentrated--either from its central\nposition, or features, attitude, colour, or what not. The red\nwill provide an acute discord of feeling, which will emphasize\nthe gloom of the picture. The use of a colour, in itself sad,\nwould weaken the effect of the dramatic whole. [Footnote: Once\nmore it is wise to emphasize the necessary inadequacy of these\nexamples. Rules cannot be laid down, the variations are so\nendless. A single line can alter the whole composition of a\npicture.] This is the principle of antithesis already defined.\nRed by itself cannot have a sad effect on the spectator, and its\ninclusion in a sad picture will, if properly handled, provide the\ndramatic element. [Footnote: The use of terms like \"sad\" and\n\"joyful\" are only clumsy equivalents for the delicate spiritual\nvibrations of the new harmony. They must be read as necessarily\ninadequate.]\n\nYet again is the case of a red tree different. The fundamental\nvalue of red remains, as in every case. But the association of\n\"autumn\" creeps in.\n\nThe colour combines easily with this association, and there is no\ndramatic clash as in the case of the red cloak.\n\nFinally, the red horse provides a further variation. The very\nwords put us in another atmosphere. The impossibility of a red\nhorse demands an unreal world. It is possible that this\ncombination of colour and form will appeal as a freak--a purely\nsuperficial and non-artistic appeal--or as a hint of a fairy\nstory [Footnote: An incomplete fairy story works on the mind as\ndoes a cinematograph film.]--once more a non-artistic appeal. To\nset this red horse in a careful naturalistic landscape would\ncreate such a discord as to produce no appeal and no coherence.\nThe need for coherence is the essential of harmony--whether\nfounded on conventional discord or concord. The new harmony\ndemands that the inner value of a picture should remain unified\nwhatever the variations or contrasts of outward form or colour.\nThe elements of the new art are to be found, therefore, in the\ninner and not the outer qualities of nature.\n\nThe spectator is too ready to look for a meaning in a picture--i.e.,\nsome outward connection between its various parts. Our materialistic age\nhas produced a type of spectator or \"connoisseur,\" who is not content to\nput himself opposite a picture and let it say its own message. Instead\nof allowing the inner value of the picture to work, he worries himself\nin looking for \"closeness to nature,\" or \"temperament,\" or \"handling,\"\nor \"tonality,\" or \"perspective,\" or what not. His eye does not probe the\nouter expression to arrive at the inner meaning. In a conversation with\nan interesting person, we endeavour to get at his fundamental ideas and\nfeelings. We do not bother about the words he uses, nor the spelling of\nthose words, nor the breath necessary for speaking them, nor the\nmovements of his tongue and lips, nor the psychological working on our\nbrain, nor the physical sound in our ear, nor the physiological effect\non our nerves. We realize that these things, though interesting and\nimportant, are not the main things of the moment, but that the meaning\nand idea is what concerns us. We should have the same feeling when\nconfronted with a work of art. When this becomes general the artist will\nbe able to dispense with natural form and colour and speak in purely\nartistic language.\n\nTo return to the combination of colour and form, there is another\npossibility which should be noted. Non-naturalistic objects in a\npicture may have a \"literary\" appeal, and the whole picture may\nhave the working of a fable. The spectator is put in an\natmosphere which does not disturb him because he accepts it as\nfabulous, and in which he tries to trace the story and undergoes\nmore or less the various appeals of colour. But the pure inner\nworking of colour is impossible; the outward idea has the mastery\nstill. For the spectator has only exchanged a blind reality for a\nblind dreamland, where the truth of inner feeling cannot be felt.\n\nWe must find, therefore, a form of expression which excludes the\nfable and yet does not restrict the free working of colour in any\nway. The forms, movement, and colours which we borrow from nature\nmust produce no outward effect nor be associated with external\nobjects. The more obvious is the separation from nature, the more\nlikely is the inner meaning to be pure and unhampered.\n\nThe tendency of a work of art may be very simple, but provided it\nis not dictated by any external motive and provided it is not\nworking to any material end, the harmony will be pure. The most\nordinary action--for example, preparation for lifting a heavy\nweight--becomes mysterious and dramatic, when its actual purpose\nis not revealed. We stand and gaze fascinated, till of a sudden\nthe explanation bursts suddenly upon us. It is the conviction\nthat nothing mysterious can ever happen in our everyday life that\nhas destroyed the joy of abstract thought. Practical\nconsiderations have ousted all else. It is with this fact in view\nthat the new dancing is being evolved--as, that is to say, the\nonly means of giving in terms of time and space the real inner\nmeaning of motion. The origin of dancing is probably purely\nsexual. In folk-dances we still see this element plainly. The\nlater development of dancing as a religious ceremony joins itself\nto the preceding element and the two together take artistic form\nand emerge as the ballet.\n\nThe ballet at the present time is in a state of chaos owing to\nthis double origin. Its external motives--the expression of love\nand fear, etc.--are too material and naive for the abstract ideas\nof the future. In the search for more subtle expression, our\nmodern reformers have looked to the past for help. Isadora Duncan\nhas forged a link between the Greek dancing and that of the\nfuture. In this she is working on parallel lines to the painters\nwho are looking for inspiration from the primitives.\n\n[Footnote: Kandinsky's example of Isadora Duncan is not perhaps\nperfectly chosen. This famous dancer founds her art mainly upon a\nstudy of Greek vases and not necessarily of the primitive period.\nHer aims are distinctly towards what Kandinsky calls\n\"conventional beauty,\" and what is perhaps more important, her\nmovements are not dictated solely by the \"inner harmony,\" but\nlargely by conscious outward imitation of Greek attitudes. Either\nNijinsky's later ballets: Le Sacre du Printemps, L'Apres-midi\nd'un Faune, Jeux, or the idea actuating the Jacques Dalcroze\nsystem of Eurhythmics seem to fall more into line with\nKandinsky's artistic forecast. In the first case \"conventional\nbeauty\" has been abandoned, to the dismay of numbers of writers\nand spectators, and a definite return has been made to primitive\nangles and abruptness. In the second case motion and dance are\nbrought out of the souls of the pupils, truly spontaneous, at\nthe call of the \"inner harmony.\" Indeed a comparison between\nIsadora Duncan and M. Dalcroze is a comparison between the\n\"naturalist\" and \"symbolist\" ideals in art which were outlined in\nthe introduction to this book.--M.T.H.S.]\n\nIn dance as in painting this is only a stage of transition. In\ndancing as in painting we are on the threshold of the art of the\nfuture. The same rules must be applied in both cases.\nConventional beauty must go by the board and the literary element\nof \"story-telling\" or \"anecdote\" must be abandoned as useless.\nBoth arts must learn from music that every harmony and every\ndiscord which springs from the inner spirit is beautiful, but\nthat it is essential that they should spring from the inner\nspirit and from that alone.\n\nThe achievement of the dance-art of the future will make possible\nthe first ebullition of the art of spiritual harmony--the true\nstage-composition.\n\nThe composition for the new theatre will consist of these three\nelements:\n\n     (1) Musical movement\n     (2) Pictorial movement\n     (3) Physical movement\n\nand these three, properly combined, make up the spiritual\nmovement, which is the working of the inner harmony. They will be\ninterwoven in harmony and discord as are the two chief elements\nof painting, form and colour.\n\nScriabin's attempt to intensify musical tone by corresponding use of\ncolour is necessarily tentative. In the perfected stage-composition the\ntwo elements are increased by the third, and endless possibilities of\ncombination and individual use are opened up. Further, the external can\nbe combined with the internal harmony, as Schonberg has attempted in his\nquartettes. It is impossible here to go further into the developments of\nthis idea. The reader must apply the principles of painting already\nstated to the problem of stage-composition, and outline for himself the\npossibilities of the theatre of the future, founded on the immovable\nprinciple of the inner need.\n\nFrom what has been said of the combination of colour and form,\nthe way to the new art can be traced. This way lies today between\ntwo dangers. On the one hand is the totally arbitrary application\nof colour to geometrical form--pure patterning. On the other hand\nis the more naturalistic use of colour in bodily form--pure\nphantasy. Either of these alternatives may in their turn be\nexaggerated. Everything is at the artist's disposal, and the\nfreedom of today has at once its dangers and its possibilities.\nWe may be present at the conception of a new great epoch, or we\nmay see the opportunity squandered in aimless extravagance.\n\n[Footnote: On this question see my article \"Uber die Formfrage\"--in \"Der\nBlaue Reiter\" (Piper-Verlag, 1912). Taking the work of Henri Rousseau as\na starting point, I go on to prove that the new naturalism will not only\nbe equivalent to but even identical with abstraction.]\n\nThat art is above nature is no new discovery. [Footnote: Cf. \"Goethe\",\nby Karl Heinemann, 1899, p. 684; also Oscar Wilde, \"De Profundis\"; also\nDelacroix, \"My Diary\".] New principles do not fall from heaven, but are\nlogically if indirectly connected with past and future. What is\nimportant to us is the momentary position of the principle and how best\nit can be used. It must not be employed forcibly. But if the artist\ntunes his soul to this note, the sound will ring in his work of itself.\nThe \"emancipation\" of today must advance on the lines of the inner need.\nIt is hampered at present by external form, and as that is thrown aside,\nthere arises as the aim of composition-construction. The search for\nconstructive form has produced Cubism, in which natural form is often\nforcibly subjected to geometrical construction, a process which tends to\nhamper the abstract by the concrete and spoil the concrete by the\nabstract.\n\nThe harmony of the new art demands a more subtle construction\nthan this, something that appeals less to the eye and more to the\nsoul. This \"concealed construction\" may arise from an apparently\nfortuitous selection of forms on the canvas. Their external lack\nof cohesion is their internal harmony. This haphazard arrangement\nof forms may be the future of artistic harmony. Their fundamental\nrelationship will finally be able to be expressed in mathematical\nform, but in terms irregular rather than regular.\n\n\n\nVIII. ART AND ARTISTS\n\n\n\nThe work of art is born of the artist in a mysterious and secret\nway. From him it gains life and being. Nor is its existence\ncasual and inconsequent, but it has a definite and purposeful\nstrength, alike in its material and spiritual life. It exists and\nhas power to create spiritual atmosphere; and from this inner\nstandpoint one judges whether it is a good work of art or a bad\none. If its \"form\" is bad it means that the form is too feeble in\nmeaning to call forth corresponding vibrations of the soul.\n\n[Footnote: So-called indecent pictures are either incapable of\ncausing vibrations of the soul (in which case they are not art)\nor they are so capable. In the latter case they are not to be\nspurned absolutely, even though at the same time they gratify\nwhat nowadays we are pleased to call the \"lower bodily tastes.\"]\nTherefore a picture is not necessarily \"well painted\" if it\npossesses the \"values\" of which the French so constantly speak.\nIt is only well painted if its spiritual value is complete and\nsatisfying. \"Good drawing\" is drawing that cannot be altered\nwithout destruction of this inner value, quite irrespective of\nits correctness as anatomy, botany, or any other science. There\nis no question of a violation of natural form, but only of the\nneed of the artist for such form. Similarly colours are used not\nbecause they are true to nature, but because they are necessary\nto the particular picture. In fact, the artist is not only\njustified in using, but it is his duty to use only those forms\nwhich fulfil his own need. Absolute freedom, whether from anatomy\nor anything of the kind, must be given the artist in his choice\nof material. Such spiritual freedom is as necessary in art as it\nis in life. [Footnote: This freedom is man's weapon against the\nPhilistines. It is based on the inner need.]\n\nNote, however, that blind following of scientific precept is less\nblameworthy than its blind and purposeless rejection. The former\nproduces at least an imitation of material objects which may be\nof some use.\n\n[Footnote: Plainly, an imitation of nature, if made by the hand\nof an artist, is not a pure reproduction. The voice of the soul\nwill in some degree at least make itself heard. As contrasts one\nmay quote a landscape of Canaletto and those sadly famous heads\nby Denner.--(Alte Pinakothek, Munich.)]\n\nThe latter is an artistic betrayal and brings confusion in its\ntrain. The former leaves the spiritual atmosphere empty; the\nlatter poisons it.\n\nPainting is an art, and art is not vague production, transitory\nand isolated, but a power which must be directed to the\nimprovement and refinement of the human soul--to, in fact, the\nraising of the spiritual triangle.\n\nIf art refrains from doing this work, a chasm remains unbridged,\nfor no other power can take the place of art in this activity.\nAnd at times when the human soul is gaining greater strength, art\nwill also grow in power, for the two are inextricably connected\nand complementary one to the other. Conversely, at those times\nwhen the soul tends to be choked by material disbelief, art\nbecomes purposeless and talk is heard that art exists for art's\nsake alone.\n\n[Footnote: This cry \"art for art's sake,\" is really the best\nideal such an age can attain to. It is an unconscious protest\nagainst materialism, against the demand that everything should\nhave a use and practical value. It is further proof of the\nindestructibility of art and of the human soul, which can never\nbe killed but only temporarily smothered.]\n\nThen is the bond between art and the soul, as it were, drugged\ninto unconsciousness. The artist and the spectator drift apart,\ntill finally the latter turns his back on the former or regards\nhim as a juggler whose skill and dexterity are worthy of\napplause. It is very important for the artist to gauge his\nposition aright, to realize that he has a duty to his art and to\nhimself, that he is not king of the castle but rather a servant\nof a nobler purpose. He must search deeply into his own soul,\ndevelop and tend it, so that his art has something to clothe, and\ndoes not remain a glove without a hand.\n\nTHE ARTIST MUST HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, FOR MASTERY OVER FORM IS\nNOT HIS GOAL BUT RATHER THE ADAPTING OF FORM TO ITS INNER\nMEANING.\n\n[Footnote: Naturally this does not mean that the artist is to\ninstill forcibly into his work some deliberate meaning. As has\nbeen said the generation of a work of art is a mystery. So long\nas artistry exists there is no need of theory or logic to direct\nthe painter's action. The inner voice of the soul tells him what\nform he needs, whether inside or outside nature. Every artist\nknows, who works with feeling, how suddenly the right form\nflashes upon him. Bocklin said that a true work of art must be\nlike an inspiration; that actual painting, composition, etc., are\nnot the steps by which the artist reaches self-expression.]\n\nThe artist is not born to a life of pleasure. He must not live\nidle; he has a hard work to perform, and one which often proves a\ncross to be borne. He must realize that his every deed, feeling,\nand thought are raw but sure material from which his work is to\narise, that he is free in art but not in life.\n\nThe artist has a triple responsibility to the non-artists: (1) He\nmust repay the talent which he has; (2) his deeds, feelings, and\nthoughts, as those of every man, create a spiritual atmosphere\nwhich is either pure or poisonous. (3) These deeds and thoughts\nare materials for his creations, which themselves exercise\ninfluence on the spiritual atmosphere. The artist is not only a\nking, as Peladan says, because he has great power, but also\nbecause he has great duties.\n\nIf the artist be priest of beauty, nevertheless this beauty is to\nbe sought only according to the principle of the inner need, and\ncan be measured only according to the size and intensity of that\nneed.\n\nTHAT IS BEAUTIFUL WHICH IS PRODUCED BY THE INNER NEED, WHICH\nSPRINGS FROM THE SOUL.\n\nMaeterlinck, one of the first warriors, one of the first modern\nartists of the soul, says: \"There is nothing on earth so curious\nfor beauty or so absorbent of it, as a soul. For that reason few\nmortal souls withstand the leadership of a soul which gives to\nthem beauty.\" [Footnote: De la beaute interieure.]\n\nAnd this property of the soul is the oil, which facilitates the\nslow, scarcely visible but irresistible movement of the triangle,\nonwards and upwards.\n\n\n\nIX. CONCLUSION\n\n\n\nThe first five illustrations in this book show the course of\nconstructive effort in painting. This effort falls into two\ndivisions:\n\n(1) Simple composition, which is regulated according to an\nobvious and simple form. This kind of composition I call the\nMELODIC.\n\n(2) Complex composition, consisting of various forms, subjected\nmore or less completely to a principal form. Probably the\nprincipal form may be hard to grasp outwardly, and for that\nreason possessed of a strong inner value. This kind of\ncomposition I call the SYMPHONIC.\n\nBetween the two lie various transitional forms, in which the\nmelodic principle predominates. The history of the development is\nclosely parallel to that of music.\n\nIf, in considering an example of melodic composition, one forgets\nthe material aspect and probes down into the artistic reason of\nthe whole, one finds primitive geometrical forms or an\narrangement of simple lines which help toward a common motion.\nThis common motion is echoed by various sections and may be\nvaried by a single line or form. Such isolated variations serve\ndifferent purposes. For instance, they may act as a sudden check,\nor to use a musical term, a \"fermata.\" [Footnote: E.g., the\nRavenna mosaic which, in the main, forms a triangle. The upright\nfigures lean proportionately to the triangle. The outstretched\narm and door-curtain are the \"fermate.\"] Each form which goes to\nmake up the composition has a simple inner value, which has in\nits turn a melody. For this reason I call the composition\nmelodic. By the agency of Cezanne and later of Hodler [Footnote:\nEnglish readers may roughly parallel Hodler with Augustus John\nfor purposes of the argument.--M.T.H.S.] this kind of composition\nwon new life, and earned the name of \"rhythmic.\" The limitations\nof the term \"rhythmic\" are obvious. In music and nature each\nmanifestation has a rhythm of its own, so also in painting. In\nnature this rhythm is often not clear to us, because its purpose\nis not clear to us. We then speak of it as unrhythmic. So the\nterms rhythmic and unrhythmic are purely conventional, as also\nare harmony and discord, which have no actual existence.\n[Footnote: As an example of plain melodic construction with a\nplain rhythm, Cezanne's \"Bathing Women\" is given in this book.]\n\nComplex rhythmic composition, with a strong flavour of the\nsymphonic, is seen in numerous pictures and woodcuts of the past.\nOne might mention the work of old German masters, of the\nPersians, of the Japanese, the Russian icons, broadsides, etc.\n[Footnote: This applies to many of Hodler's pictures.]\n\nIn nearly all these works the symphonic composition is not very\nclosely allied to the melodic. This means that fundamentally\nthere is a composition founded on rest and balance. The mind\nthinks at once of choral compositions, of Mozart and Beethoven.\nAll these works have the solemn and regular architecture of a\nGothic cathedral; they belong to the transition period.\n\nAs examples of the new symphonic composition, in which the\nmelodic element plays a subordinate part, and that only rarely, I\nhave added reproductions of four of my own pictures.\n\nThey represent three different sources of inspiration:\n\n(1) A direct impression of outward nature, expressed in purely\nartistic form. This I call an \"Impression.\"\n\n(2) A largely unconscious, spontaneous expression of inner\ncharacter, the non-material nature. This I call an\n\"Improvisation.\"\n\n(3) An expression of a slowly formed inner feeling, which\ncomes to utterance only after long maturing. This I call a\n\"Composition.\" In this, reason, consciousness, purpose, play\nan overwhelming part. But of the calculation nothing appears,\nonly the feeling. Which kind of construction, whether\nconscious or unconscious, really underlies my work, the\npatient reader will readily understand.\n\nFinally, I would remark that, in my opinion, we are fast\napproaching the time of reasoned and conscious composition, when\nthe painter will be proud to declare his work constructive. This\nwill be in contrast to the claim of the Impressionists that they\ncould explain nothing, that their art came upon them by\ninspiration. We have before us the age of conscious creation, and\nthis new spirit in painting is going hand in hand with the spirit\nof thought towards an epoch of great spiritual leaders.","title":"Concerning the Spiritual in Art","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":26245}