CHAPTER 9
Sir Joshua
Reynolds
THE Fifteen
Discourses of Art 1 of
Sir Joshua Reynolds are more a system of criticism for painting than a
philosophical inquiry into the universal traits of aesthetic experience: and
this is quite natural, for the discourses were delivered by an artist to an
audience of artists and connoisseurs with the practical aim of directing the
practice of painters and forming the taste of amateurs. Nevertheless, Reynolds
repeatedly enters upon the higher and more philosophical issues, and, indeed,
the very method and viewpoint he adopts tend to do away with any sharp
distinction of aesthetics from criticism: his dialectic plays constantly
between the most general issues of psychology and the most particular
questions of technique. As is usually the case in such dialectics, it is not
possible to separate for analysis one element or part of the system without
prejudicing the intelligibility of the whole, and accordingly, the entire
system will be reviewed here, without attempt to single out for analysis
Reynolds' views on beauty or sublimity.
Reynolds
alone among the philosophical critics and aestheticians of the eighteenth
century is generally read today. This circumstance is attributable partly to
his stature as a practicing artist, which has transferred an adventitious
authority to his critical doctrines. But in part also, Reynolds' still
flourishing reputation as a critic is due to the peculiar character of his
thought, which, standing in some measure apart from the general current of
eighteenth-century empiricism, has better escaped the dogmatic reaction of the
nineteenth century.
Yet
although Reynolds is widely read and respected today, the coherency of his
doctrine and the purity of his method are usually disregarded; both his
critics and his defenders interpret his thought in the light of modern
preconceptions, philosophical, critical, or historical. It is a matter of
importance to this study, as well as of consider‑
able autonomous interest, to
re-establish the aesthetics of Reynolds as a system self-consistent,
systematic, and fruitful.'
Modern criticism of the theory of
Reynolds has concerned itself chiefly with two issues, though neither has been
stated in such wise as to admit of a solution. There is, in the first place, a
sense of baffling contradictions in the thought of Reynolds, a feeling which
has persisted since the attacks of Blake and Hazlitt.
Roger Fry observes, in his admirable edition of Reynolds' Discourses, that it is not possible to acquit
Reynolds "of confusion of thought and inconsistency in the use of
words," and he instances (among other inconsistencies) the apparently
incompatible senses of the central term "nature," used (r) to designate visible phenomena
not made by artifice, (2) "in
an Aristotelian sense as an immanent force working in the refractory medium of
matter towards the highest perfection of form," and (3) to signify what is inherently
agreeable to the mind.' Michael Macklem has more
recently attempted to show "how the diversity of meanings attached to the
idea of nature indicates the diverse principles of neo-classical art,"
finding that Reynolds concurrently and inconsistently thought of art as
producing a general image of nature, as representing an Ideal transcending
nature but from which nature is derived, and as affording a wish-fulfilling
idealization of the actual.' Thompson, too, asserts that "inconsistencies
in Reynolds's statements can easily be detected; for the first paper in the Idler appeared in 1759, and
the last address was delivered in 1790. Moreover, the artist did not always
practice what he preached."' The correlation of theory and practice (a
matter often 'brought to the fore in discussions of Reynolds) is not germane to
the present analysis; but I may observe that Reynolds' theory involves a
hierarchy of genres and styles, and that the "rules" are analogically
applicable to each, so that every genre and style has its appropriate
excellence (however low in the total scheme) and artists may exercise their
talents legitimately at every level. Accordingly, the criteria on which
Reynolds based his choice of "fields" were more personal and social
than philosophical; his talents lay in the direction of portraiture and
coloring, coinciding happily with the demand of his age for portraits executed
with fashionable splendor of style. In recommending to artists to follow the
path which Michael Angelo had marked out, Reynolds says: "I have taken
another course, one more suited to my abilities, and to the taste of the times
in which I live. Yet however unequal I feel myself to that attempt, were I now
to begin the world again, I would tread in the steps of that great master. . .
." '
Joseph Burke specifies more of the contradictions which
the Discourses display:
In the first Discourse Reynolds
recommends an implicit obedience to the rules of art, and adds that the models provided by the
great Masters should be considered as perfect and infallible guides. In the
third Discourse he states that there are
no precise invariable rules, nor are taste and
genius to he acquired by rules; and in the fourteenth, that the moment the artist turns other artists into
models he falls infinitely below them.
In the sixth Discourse, he says that `by imitation only, are variety and originality of invention' produced.
On the other hand, he had al-ready stated, in the third Discourse, that the
perfection of art did not consist in `mere imitation.' 7
Those writers who do not emphasize outright contradictions
in Reynolds' theory usually escape this conclusion only by discovering a
progressive development of his thought. Clough, for instance, traces three
stages in this development; the Idler papers constitute the first, and two of the Discourses, "the seventh and the
thirteenth, might almost be taken to stand for the whole number, epitomizing as
they do his middle and last periods"; the early discourses exhibit
Reynolds' "adherence to the standard neo-classical code," but by the
time of the thirteenth, "Reynolds makes a tentative advance toward the
more popular aesthetic of his time, by referring art to human nature." 8
These hypotheses of self-contradiction and chronological development
are obviously devised to account for the reiterated paradoxes which are so
prominent a feature of the discourses. In some cases the detection of
inconsistencies depends on overlooking or con-founding the several stages which
Reynolds prescribes for the education of artists. More often such obvious
misreading is not involved; rather, the inconsistencies are found by
juxtaposing passages without regard to the "level" of their
argumentative contexts. The reconciliation of the paradoxes is readily
accomplished if allowance is made for the methodological devices which Reynolds
consistently employs.
The second persistent theme in
recent discussion of Reynolds is his Platonism or Aristotelianism.
Fry argues that "it was probably from a passage in Bellori
. . . that Reynolds actually derived his main ideas," and that the
ultimate source of such Renaissance art theories was Aristotle.9
Bredvold urges that although "the analysis and
formulation of Neo-classical principles for each specific art was generally a
form of Aristotelianism," the conception of
Ideal Beauty underlying all the arts "is nevertheless a conception which
leads beyond Aristotle, and which Reynolds . . . definitely thought of as
Platonic rather than
Aristotelian." 10 Macklem, too, finds both
an Aristotelian and a Platonic strain in the Discourses, the first in the conception of specific forms, the second
in the Ideal transcending natural experience." In opposition to the
consensus, however, Trowbridge argues that Reynolds "shows a tendency
away from Platonism much more prominently than any attraction to it,"
that "the true philosophical affinity of Reynolds' classicism is not Plato
but John Locke," and that Reynolds adapted the traditional Platonic theory
of painting to be consistent with an empirical metaphysics and psychology.'
Though denying the Platonism of Reynolds in regard to his philosophic
principles, Trowbridge points out that in method Reynolds might justly be dubbed a Platonist. This problem of Reynolds'
Platonism, then, like that of his doctrinal consistency, depends for adequate
statement and for solution upon study of the method of the Discourses, and upon distinguishing problems
of method from those of philosophic principle.13
The primary
and ubiquitous principle of Reynolds' aesthetic system is the contrariety of
universal and particular. Whether the discourse is of nature or of art, of
invention or imitation, of subject or style, of taste or genius, the analysis
proceeds in a dialectic of the one and the many, the
changeless and the transient. The distinction of general and particular is the
constant analytic device, and universality the invariable criterion of
excellence. It is natural, therefore, to see Reynolds as the intellectual
descendant of Plato; 14 yet the dialectic of the
eighteenth-century critic differs sharply from that of the Grecian
philosopher. Plato's system did not encourage the demarcation of an aesthetic realm
which could be treated in detail apart from moral, social, and theological
considerations; and Plato's reference was ultimately to a reality independent
of the mind. Reynolds, per contra, despite
his analogies between aesthetics, ethics, and science, treats the work of art,
its subject, its producer, and its critic in a world of discourse largely
divided off from other matters; and the unchanging, the universal, the Nature
to which he appeals is contingent upon the faculties and functions of the mind—human
nature rather than cosmic nature is the source of his philosophic principles:
"The first idea that occurs in the consideration of what is fixed in art,
or in taste, is that presiding principle . . . the general idea of nature... My notion of nature comprehends
not only the forms which nature produces, but also the nature and internal fabrick and prganization, as I
may call it, of the human mind and imagination." 15
This shift in orientation is seen in the treatment of the end of art:
"The great end of all the arts is, to make an impression on the imagination
and the feeling. The imitation of nature frequently does this. Sometimes it
fails, and something else succeeds. I think there-fore the true test of all the
arts is not solely whether the production is a true copy of nature, but whether
it answers the end of art, which is to produce a pleasing effect upon the
mind." 10
The reference of these and other problems to human nature
is characteristic of Reynolds' age; the confinement of the scope of the
dialectic to the aesthetic world—the artist, his work (subject and style), and
the audience which appreciates or judges it—is the characteristic of the
system which some critics have taken for a resemblance to Aristotle; for it is
this concentration on an aesthetic realm which permits the elaboration of rules
fitted to particular arts. Nevertheless, the elements which enter into the
discussion (artist, work, and audience) are analogous to the elements of
Aristotle's theory of rhetoric rather
than to those of his analysis of poetic; and attributions to Aristotle are valid only if by
"Aristotle" we mean the interpretation of Aristotle by Platonizing
critics and philosophers. The real Aristotle was not the author of the theory
of Ideal Beauty. The pas-sage usually cited to indicate Aristotle's supposed
endorsement of this theory is his remark that "poetry is something more
philosophic and of graver import than history, since its statements are of the
nature of universals, whereas those of history are singulars" (Poetics 1451b 6-8). But
Aristotle is discussing the probability or necessity by which a poem has an
inner coherence independent of accident, whereas Reynolds, like Plato, is
discussing the participation of individuals in transcendent universals.
Frances Blanshard argues from this passage that
Aristotle (like Reynolds) was trying to answer Plato's attack on art, and that
this answer consisted in showing that by imitating the general form of a
species art gives knowledge of nature's unrealized ends. Reynolds (we are told)
took this up, and used the empiricism of Locke and Hume to explain the
generalizing process.17 But for Aristotle, to consider art as essentially supplying knowledge would be a
confusion of the poetic and theoretic sciences.
Reynolds
does make occasional excursions outside the restricted domain of art. These may
be regarded analytically as relics of the original universal dialectic, though
historically it might be more ac-curate to see them as tentative efforts to
expand a more rigidly con-
tracted tradition. However this may be,
Reynolds frequently stresses the affiliation of aesthetics and ethics, taste
and virtue:
It has
been often observed, that the good and virtuous man alone can acquire this true or just relish even of works of
art. . . . The same disposition, the same desire to find something steady,
substantial, and durable . . . actuates us in both cases. The subject only is
changed. We pursue the same method in our
search after the idea of beauty and perfection in each; of virtue, by
looking forwards beyond ourselves to society, and to the whole; of arts, by
extending our views in the same manner to all ages and all times."
And as here taste is analogized to virtue, so it may be identified with
the love of truth:
The natural appetite or taste
of the human mind is for TRUTH; whether
that truth results from the real agreement or equality of original ideas among themselves; from the agreement of
the representation of any object with
the thing represented; or from the correspondence of the several parts
of any arrangement with each other. It is the very same taste which relishes a
demonstration in geometry, that is pleased with the
resemblance of a picture to an original, and touched with the harmony of musick.ls
Thus, the True, the Good, and the Beautiful become, when perfected,
equivalent: all are Nature.20 The theoretic, the practical,
and the productive sciences, which Aristotle carefully separated, are here,
how-ever tentatively, merged: and these easy analogies are not found among the
literal writers of the century, however fond many of them are of paralleling
ethics and aesthetics.
Nature and Art are related
complexly and paradoxically in the aesthetics of Reynolds, for both
"nature" and "art" are analogical terms and have multiple
meanings in the system. Of course "art"—as opposed to
"nature"—always means something learned or made: the works
themselves, their subjects (for the great source of inspiration and often the
model of imitation is the art of the past), the techniques of their production,
the training of the artist, and the formation of taste in the audience; all
are in some sense art. The inter-relation of art and nature is discussed in
terms of "imitation." 21 Art imitates nature; yet it is
equally true that art may imitate art, and that great art transcends imitation.
These paradoxes are made possible by, and are resolved by reference to, the
contrariety of general and particular. Imitation in the lowest sense is mere copying of particular art works, an
"imitating without selecting" in which the "powers of invention and composition . . . lie torpid." 22
It is distinguished both from "borrowing" (incorporation
of a thought, action, or figure from another painting, which "is so far
from having any thing in it of the servility of plagiarism, that it is a
perpetual exercise of the mind, a continual invention" 2")
and from a true and proper imitation of the masters. This higher
imitation is a catching of the spirit, a subjection to
the same discipline; in a passage often compared to Longinus,
Reynolds urges: "Instead of copying the touches of those great masters,
copy only their conceptions. Instead .of treading in their footsteps, endeavour only to keep the same road. . . . Possess
yourself with their spirit. Consider how a Michael Angelo or a Raffaelle would have treated this subject: and work
your-self into a belief that your picture is to be seen and criticized by them
when completed." 24 Taken in this sense, imitation is
"the true and only method by which an artist makes himself master of his
profession; which I hold ought to be one continued course of imitation, that
is not to cease but with his life." 25 Imitation of one master is discouraged, a
general and eclectic imitation demanded; yet the artist can enter into a
generous contention with the men whom he imitates, and by correcting what is
peculiar in each, transcend all. The entire course of study which Reynolds lays
out for the student is a course in imitation, first of the object set before
him, then of the manner of great workers in the art, then (while imitation of
artists is not discontinued) of the abundance of nature itself. This
progressive broadening of the object and manner of imitation culminates in the
formation of a mind adequate to all times and all occasions.
The last stage of this
training directs attention to the imitation of nature rather than of art; and
Reynolds can say in one discourse that art is not merely imitative of nature without contradicting other pronouncements
that it is essentially imitative.
When imitation is deplored, it is imitation of particular nature; when it is
applauded, it is imitation of general nature, either of the ideal specific
forms of external nature or of the
principles of the mind. All "the arts receive their
perfection from an ideal beauty, superior to what is to be found in individual
nature." 26 For "a mere copier of nature can
never pro-duce any thing great; can never raise and enlarge the conceptions, or
warm the heart of the spectator"; all the arts "renounce the narrow
idea of nature, and the narrow theories derived from that mistaken principle,
and apply to that reason only which informs us not what imitation is,—a natural
representation of a given object,—but what it is
natural for the imagination to
be delighted with." 27
Indeed, the chief subject of the discourses is "that
grand style of painting, which improves partial representation by the general
and invariable ideas of nature." 28 This general nature
is, consistently with Reynolds' philosophical principles, a conception in the
mind of the artist; for although the conception is formed by abstraction from
external reality, the ideal itself has only a
potential existence prior to its comprehension. Accordingly, the same
distinction between copying (on one hand) and invention, recombination, and
improvement (on the other) obtains in the imitation of nature as in the imitation
of artists: "Upon the whole, it seems to me, that the object and intention
of all the Arts is to supply the natural imperfection of things, and often to
gratify the mind by realizing and embodying what never existed but in the
imagination." 29
It is noteworthy that in the Discourses Reynolds
does not advance the peculiarly literal conception of general nature which he
expounded in the third of his Idler papers.30 Beauty
was there arbitrarily con-fined to form alone, and was found to be the medium
or center of the various forms of a species or kind (that form which is more
frequent than any one deviation from it—not necessarily an average); this
definition carried as corollaries, that the beauty of an individual could not
be judged prior to the collection of statistics on its species, and that there
could be no comparison in point of beauty between species. Refutations of
Reynolds' theory from the eighteenth century to the present day have more often
than not directed their battery against this paper, either directly or by,
reading the Discourses as an expansion of it and criticizing theth accordingly. Thus, Sir Uvedale
Price, who attempts to account for beauty by a mechanism partly nervous, partly
associational, criticizes the Idler theory sharply, for beauty to Price
does not depend on comparison within a species; Richard Payne Knight, who
employs an elaborate faculty psychology in accounting for the several
"beauties" of the various faculties, sees Reynolds as confining his
notions to the intellectual qualities of things exclusively; and Dugald Stewart, attempting to subsume previous theories
with the aid of a theory of philosophical language, finds the Reynolds view
narrow and inadequate.31 The moderns, diverting attention
from the systematic interrelations of Reynolds' ideas to their sources, or the
sources of the terminology in which they are couched, rarely see Reynolds'
thought as more than a pasticcio; but Roger Fry at least has deemed the theory of the central form worthy
of refutation.32
I shall not enter upon the
question of the validity of this doctrine; rather, I should like to consider
briefly the formal or constitutive question of its appropriateness to Reynolds'
system as a whole. I think that, viewed in this light, it is a misstep. The peculiar
virtue and merit of a Platonic system of criticism consists in the flexibility
or "ambiguity" of its terms, a flexibility which permits their
analogical application to a range of subjects and the consequent isolation in
those subjects of the universal traits or "ideas" to which the terms
refer. If it be asked, how can undefined terms isolate anything? the reply must be, that each such term receives definition
in each context by comparison with and opposition to other terms of the system;
in each application the meaning of the term emerges from its use in the
argument, the "dialectic." If this indeterminacy of terms is a
pre-requisite for a Platonic system that is not to be dogmatic, it is apparent
that Reynolds erred in attempting to tie down so literally the meaning of
"beauty" in the Idler papers. Ideality is not to be defined or
given statistical delimitation.33
In the Discourses, the first of which was delivered
ten years after the Idler papers were written, the freedom of the
dialectic is unimpaired by dogmatic definition. Yet Reynolds never abandoned
out-right his early theory. In a letter to Beattie in 1782, commenting on the
manuscript of the essay on beauty which Beattie had submitted to him, he
observes: "About twenty years since I thought much on this subject, and am
now glad to find many of those ideas which then passed in my mind put in such
good order by so excellent a metaphysician. My view of the question did not
extend beyond my own profession; it regarded only the beauty of form which I
attributed entirely to custom or habit. You have taken a larger compass,
including, indeed, everything that gives delight, every mental and corporeal
excellence. . . ." And blandly (if not plausibly) Reynolds subsumes
Beattie's system under his own:
What you have imputed to convenience and contrivance, I think may without violence be put to the account of habit,
as we are more used to
that form in nature (and I believe in art, too) which is the most convenient. . . . I am aware that
this reasoning goes upon a supposition that
we are more used to beauty than deformity, and that we are so, I think,
I have proved in a little Essay which I wrote about twenty-five years since, and which Dr. Johnson published in
his Idler. . . .
May not all beauty proceeding from
association of ideas be reduced to the
principle of habit or experience? You see I am bringing every-thing into my old principle, but I will now have
done, for fear I should throw this
letter likewise in the fire [the fate of an earlier and longer reply]. . . 3a
In the discourses, too, Reynolds speaks of
"presenting to the eye the same effect as that which it has been accustomed to feel, which in this case, as in
every other, will always produce beauty. . . ." 35 But habit is not advanced as the single cause of all
beauty, and in the discourses the earlier theory is quietly modified by
sloughing off all the literal limitations on the concept of beauty. By so doing,
Reynolds made his system one of the permanent alternatives of aesthetic theory.
It is apparent that beauty, treated in the manner of
Reynolds, has the energy and grandeur customarily associated with the sublime;
and, indeed, it is difficult to see how there could be more than one ideal type
of general nature—Reynolds' mode of reasoning automatically obviates the
distinction between sublime and beautiful. Yet a distinction so pervasive in
the literature of the century is certain to leave its mark; and Reynolds
occasionally bifurcates his concept of the beautiful, setting the sublime
against the "elegant." These two characters are not co-ordinate; the
dichotomy is between a higher beauty, the sublime, and a lower, the elegant.
The elegant may be paired.with taste and
fancy, while the sublime is connected with genius and imagination;
alternatively, the elegant may be judged sensual. But the sublime, in any
event, sweeps all before it: "The sublime in Painting, as in Poetry, so
overpowers, and takes such a possession of the whole mind, that no room is left
for attention to minute criticism. The little elegancies of art in the presence
of these great ideas thus greatly expressed, lose all their value, and are, for
the instant at least, felt to be unworthy of our notice. The correct judgment,
the purity of taste, which characterize Raffaelle, the exquisite grace [elegance] of Correggio and Parmegiano, all
disappear before them." 37 When Reynolds is treating of art, Raffaelle stands for him "foremost of the first
painters," 3e but when attention is directed towards
genius and sublimity, then Michael Angelo, though he cannot match Raffaelle in balance and completeness of artistic
equipment, is supreme.
There are passages in which Reynolds' sublime and elegant
correspond pretty closely in application with Burke's sublime and beautiful.
Reynolds draws, for instance, the inescapable contrast between the sublime
landscapes of Salvator and the elegant scenes of
Claude, between bold projections and gentle slopes, abruptly angular and
gradually inclined branches, clouds rolling in volumes and gilded with the
setting sun, and so forth. It is significant, however, that this coincidence of
doctrine occurs in discussion of landscape, precisely where the difference of
the two systems is minimum. In landscape, the sublime is not of higher order
than the elegant; both Claude and Salvator are
painters of the first rank, and the distinction between their styles is literal
and descriptive. But in human subjects, the sublime springs from and appeals to
higher faculties. The tastes of Burke and Reynolds, to be sure, are less
different than their fashions of accounting for their tastes; but the
difference in their ac-counts is radical. Burke's literal distinction of beauty
and sublimity is often dissolved by Reynolds, and when not abandoned it is so
transformed in content and established on so different a foundation that only
in isolated contexts does any considerable resemblance appear. Burke's famous
distinction had become a verbal commonplace for succeeding aestheticians, to no
two of whom did it convey the same meaning.
Although
Reynolds refers to Burke ast a truly philosophical
aesthetician, and although Burke is the only writer so praised, his influence
on Reynolds' thought was slight.3D Even the essay on taste
pre-fixed to the second edition of the Sublime and Beautiful (to which Thompson and Bryant assign some weight in
determining Reynolds' opinions) has no clear relation to the theory of
Reynolds.4" For Burke, taste is "that faculty or
those faculties of the mind which are affected with, or which form a judgment
of, the works of imagination and the elegant arts," whereas for Reynolds
taste is "that faculty of the mind by which we like or dislike, whatever
be the subject," a faculty which judges in the productive, practical, and
theoretical sciences alike.41 In the system of Burke, the aesthetic
excellences rest upon very different foundations from the moral virtues, but throughout
the system of Reynolds there runs a recurrent analogy between beauty and
virtue, and another between beauty and truth. Burke, in short, operates within
a scheme of separate sciences and is in search of closely literal definitions
of the aesthetic qualities he treats (even though those qualities pervade both
nature and art), while Reynolds tends always to analogize the sciences and to
"define" analogically and dialectically. The occasional verbal and
doctrinal resemblances, then, are only isolated points of community in systems
which are radically and fundamentally distinct.4`
The
criterion of taste for Reynolds is of course generality. Not only should the
audience whose taste is appealed to be universal
(always and everywhere), but it should appeal to general principles in judging
works and their producers. Nature (true art) is distinguished from fashion
(false art) by the test of enduring and universal fame. Great works,
therefore, "speak to the general sense of
the whole species; in which common .
. . tongue, every thing grand and comprehensive must be uttered." 4s
Yet at the same time, the artist may envisage an elect few—his great
predecessors—as his audience; and this is not a contradiction, for these are the few who have sloughed off
fashion and rejected particularity—they are not men, but Man. Indeed, the
appeal is never to the untutored taste of the multitude (which will always
exhibit local and temporary particularity) but always to the taste the natural
potentialities of which have been cultivated by art. For criticism both is an art and is developed through art, requiring for its
cultivation the enthusiasm inspired by works of genius: "It must be
remembered," says Reynolds, "that this great style itself is
artificial in the highest
degree, it
pre-supposes in the spectator a cultivated and prepared artificial state of
mind. It is an absurdity, therefore, to suppose that we are born with this
taste, though we are with the seeds of it, which, by the heat and kindly
influence of . . . genius, may be ripened in us." " There is a
hierarchy of criticisms as there is a hierarchy of imitations, each stage more
inclusive than the preceding: comparison of works and masters within an art
(which first test "must have two capital defects; it must be narrow, and
it must be uncertain" 45); comparison of arts
and their principles with one another; and comparison of all such principles
"with those of human nature, from whence arts de-rive the materials upon
which they are to produce their effects," which style is at once the highest
and the soundest, "for it refers to the eternal and immutable nature of
things." "
Taste so
conceived is no different from genius, save that to genius there supervenes a
power of execution. Indeed, all the elements of the system—artist, audience,
style, and subject—are merged when in their perfected state: "The gusto
grande of the Italians, the beau ideal of
the French, and the great style, genius, and taste among the
English, are but different appellations of the same thing."" Genius, then, is only the imaginative power
of apprehending general nature; but it is related to the universal in another
sense as well, since it involves a collective effort, each artist being
inspired by his own predecessors. Many of the Longinian
passages in the discourses center about this last theme: "Whoever has so
far formed his taste, as to be able to relish and feel the beauties of the
great masters, has gone a great way in his study," Reynolds declares,
"for, merely from a consciousness of this relish of the right, the mind
swells with an inward pride, and is almost as powerfully affected, as if it had
itself produced what it admires"; 48 I need not quote
the eulogy of Michael Angelo with which the discourses conclude. Even the
"genius of mechanical performance," the painter's genius qua painter,
participates in generality: it consists in "the power of expressing that
which employs your pencil . . . as a whole,"
4e contracting into one whole what nature has made
multifarious by working up all parts of the picture together instead of
finishing part by part.
The paradox that genius is the
product of art is the chief purport of the discourses: "The purport of this discourse, and, indeed, of most of my other
discourses, is, to caution you against that false opinion . . . of the
imaginary powers of native genius, and its sufficiency in great works." 50
Because of the identifications already re-marked upon, the purpose of
the discourses can also, of course, be stated in terms of taste ("My
purpose in the discourses . . . has been to lay down certain general positions,
which seem to me proper for the formation of sound taste" 61)
or in terms of the art itself (it became necessary, in order to reconcile
conflicting precepts, "to distinguish the greater truth . . . from the
lesser truth; the larger and more liberal idea of nature from the more narrow
and confined; that which addresses itself to the imagination, from that which
is solely addressed to the eye [The]
different rules and regula‑
tions which presided over each department of art,
followed of course . . ." f2). Keeping, however, to
the aspect of the discourses which centers upon genius—it was certainly not
Reynolds' view that natural powers have no efficacy, or that an Academy can make
a Michael Angelo of any daubing student; a "man can bring home wares only
in proportion to the capital with which he goes to market." " But natural powers are only a potentiality, and as a
professor addressing students, or (more widely) as an aesthetician ad-dressing
artists and critics with the view of forming taste and directing practice,
Reynolds deals with what is within human powers to alter, not with what is
given by nature; the question is, how to realize natural endowment and how to
direct its efforts. Thus the relation of genius to rules can be stated
variously: the opposition of genius to the narrow rules of any rigid
intellectual system is a conventional topic; nonetheless, Reynolds urges,
"what we now call Genius, begins, not where rules, abstractedly taken,
end; but where known vulgar and trite rules have no longer any place. It must
of necessity be, that even works of Genius, like every
other effect, as they must have their cause, must likewise have their rules. .
. ." 54 These rules depend
on the imagination and passions. The active principle of the mind demands
variety, novelty, contrast; the pas-
sive, uniformity, custom, repose; and
perfection lies in a mean. This is all obvious; noticeable is the slightness of
the axiomata media under the guidance of which the universal qualities are
found or embodied in particular works. But it is generally true of Platonic
systems of criticism that instead of "rules" governing the relations
of parts in a whole directed towards a specific end, "touchstones"
are supplied which facilitate the recognition of the universal virtues in their
concrete manifestations. So while Reynolds occasionally vouchsafes a rule (as
that the masses of light in a picture be always of a warm, mellow color), these
rules are few and slender, and the emphasis is on a complicated balancing of
artists who embody the various aesthetic virtues and defects.
All the problems of genius, of taste, and of art,
then, are given their peculiar form in Reynolds' aesthetics by the dialectical
method and psychological orientation of the system. Since the root is not a
supernal nature but a terrestrial, the ideal universe being a product of
imagination, the faculties of the mind play a crucial role. But Reynolds' view
of the faculties is neither original nor complex; sense perceives, fancy
combines, reason distinguishes. Appropriately, since imagination is the
combining and generalizing power, the arts depend upon it for their higher qualities, and upon sense only by a condescension to the
necessities of human nature. Such condescension is inevitable, however, and
art strives to give each faculty gratification: "Our taste has a kind of
sensuality about it, as well as a love of the sublime; both these qualities of
the mind are to have their proper consequence, as far as they do hot counteract
each other; for that is the grand error which much care ought to be taken to
avoid." 5J In the same way, opinion as well as truth must be
regarded by the artist, and its authority is proportioned to the universality
of the prejudice; "whilst these opinions and prejudices . . . continue,
they operate as truth; and the art, whose office it is to please the mind, as
well as instruct it, must direct itself according to opinion, or it will not
attain its end." '" Such concessions, however guarded, mark the
difference of this system from that of Plato, for whom the highest art of
Reynolds would be second-best; for Plato, true art is dialectic, whereas for
Reynolds, such an identification is prevented by the laws of the mind. Reason
(as discriminating faculty) plays its role not in dictating the subjects of art
but in assisting the artist to "consider and separate those different
principles to which different modes of beauty owe their original . . . to
discriminate perfections that are incompatible with each other." '7 Reason
and taste may be identified with one another in some contexts, but
when reason is "grounded on a partial view of things," in contrast
with the habitual sagacity of imagination, it must give way—in art,
imagination is "the residence of truth." 'A
The
distinction of levels of argument is often accompanied by the bifurcation of
concepts and the identification of the concepts on the higher level. This
tendency is in Reynolds sometimes imperfectly realized or difficult to trace.
Imagination and fancy, for instance, are not consistently or radically
distinguished by him; in only one pas-sage are they explicitly contrasted:
"Raffaelle had more Taste and Fancy; Michael
Angelo more Genius and Imagination. The one ex-celled in beauty, the other in
energy. . . . Michael Angelo's works . . . seem to proceed from his own mind
entirely. . . . Raffaelle's materials are generally borrowed,
though the noble structure is his own." 59 The
couplings here suggest a difference of degree, imagination rearranging more
freely and powerfully. Fancy is f sometimes "capricious"
and connected with the picturesque.6" But al-though the
distinction made familiar by Coleridge is here sought in vain, there is an
obvious differentiation of artistic powers paralleling the contrast of the
arbitrary, fashionable, and ornamental with the natural, simple, and beautiful.
The distinction of sublime from elegant, and the identification of taste,
genius, and style on the higher level, have been enough insisted upon.
Reynolds' elaborate hierarchy of
styles and species is made possible by the differentiation of mental powers and
aesthetic characters which has been outlined. One set of distinctions depends
upon dignity of subject: history, genre, landscape, portraiture, animal
painting, still-life, and so on—many of which classes are themselves
susceptible of subdivision. Cutting across this hierarchy of genres is the
contrast of a higher and a lower manner. In history, for instance, the grand
style of Rome and Florence is set against the ornamental style of Venice and
Flanders; and in the lower genres of the art, there is "the same
distinction of a higher and a lower style; and they take their rank and degree
in proportion as the artist departs more, or less, from common nature, and
makes it an object of his attention to strike the imagination of the spectator
by ways belonging specially to art.
"
6i Arts employing different means from painting are handled similarly in
terms of object and manner, although some media may render the lower manner
intolerable: sculpture (which Reynolds instances at length) must design in
simplicity proportioned to the simplicity of its materials. Even the
"non-imitative" arts of architecture
and music exhibit parallel
distinctions, with the higher quality related to the imagination by association
rather than imitation, and the lower connected with utility and sense. The
argument is always flexible, however; excellence in a lower style is preferred
to mediocrity in a higher (a principle which Reynolds illustrates in the
critique of Gainsborough), and it is erroneous to introduce the grand manner
into a lower rank to which a different mode of achieving a qualified generality
is appropriate. In portraiture, for instance, universality is achieved not by
idealizing beyond recognition but by catching the likeness "as a
whole." Still another dimension is introduced in discussion of the "characteristical" style, peculiar to the cast of mind
of an individual painter; while such peculiarity is not referable to a true
archetype in nature, and is not a proper object of imitation, it has its proper
excellence in consistency and unity, "as if the whole proceeded from one
mind." 62
But
Reynolds' attention returns always to the grand style, the key-stone of the
arch. The grand style is universal in cause and in effect, in subject and in
style; it is beautiful by abstracting from the particular forms of nature,
simple by rejecting the influence of fashion. Al-though grandeur requires
simplicity-which is truth—it is still contrary to truth, when truth is
particular and historical.63 The grand style concerns itself
rather with "that ideal excellence which it is the . lot
of genius always to contemplate, and never to attain." 64
Notes to Chapter 9
1.
The discourses were delivered to the
2.
This chapter is adapted from my article, "General and
Particular in the Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds: A Study in
Method," JAAC, XI (March, 1953), 231-47,
which may be consulted for somewhat fuller treatment both of Reynolds and of
the pertinent scholarship.
3.
Roger Fry
(ed.), Discourses
Delivered to
the Students of the
4.
Michael Macklem, "Reynolds and the
Ambiguities of Neo-Classical Criticism," PQ, XXXI (October, 1952),
383-98.
5.
E[lbert] N. S. Thompson, "The Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds," PMLA, XXXII (1917), 365.
6.
Reynolds, The Literary Works of Sir Joshua Reynolds, Kt.,
ed.
346 Notes to Pages 135—38
Malone (5th ed.;
7.
Joseph Burke, Hogarth and Reynolds: A Contrast in English Art Theory
(The William
Henry Charlton Memorial Lecture, November, 1941;
8.
Wilson O. Clough, "Reason and Genius," PQ, XXIII (January, 1944), 46-50.
Reynolds, like Hogarth, Hume, and Burke, is made to
contribute to the development of subjectivism in taste, in express
contradiction to his announced intention.
9.
Fry (ed.), Discourses, p. 44. Bellori's Idea of a Painter (translated in Dry-den's preface to his translation of DuFresnoy's Art of Painting [pp. v—xiii of the second edition, 17161) is
repeatedly cited in this connection. Frederick Whiley
Hilles, on the other hand, finds Count Algarotti's Essay
on Painting (Englished in 1764) to be the original of Reynolds'
theory: see The Literary Career of Sir
Joshua Reynolds (Cambridge
University Press, 1936), p. 121. Burke makes the' same suggestion. In general,
art scholars look for Reynolds' sources in Renaissance and
eighteenth-century art critics, while literary scholars search in Johnson and
Edmund Burke; but almost all agree in tracing the inheritance back to Plato
and/or
Aristotle.
lo. Louis Bredvold,
"The Tendency toward Platonism in Neo-Classical Esthetics," ELH, I (September, 1934), 115.
11.
Macklem, "Reynolds and the Ambiguities of Neo-Classical
Criticism," PQ, XXXI (October, 1952), 385—86.
12.
Hoyt Trowbridge, "Platonism and Sir Joshua Reynolds,"
ES, XXI (February, 1939), 1.
13. The Discourses are neatly analyzed in terms of the problems to which they
11 are addressed by Elder Olson in his Introduction to Longinus, "On
the Sublime"
. . . and Sir Joshua Reynolds, "Discourses on
Art" . . . (
1945). 1 take
this analysis for granted here.
14.
The distinctive traits of Aristotelian and Platonic thought, as I here
under-stand them, are set forth in Richard P. McKeon's "The
Philosophic Bases of Art
f |
and Criticism,"
MP, XLI (November, 1943), 65—87 and (February,
1944), 129-71. See McKeon's comment on Reynolds, pp. 155—56, n.
3.
15.
Reynolds, Works, Discourse vii, I, 204. Note that
this passage from the seventh discourse (like the thirteenth discourse) refers
taste to human nature.
,6. Ibid., Discourse
xiii, II, 135—36. Again, rules are "not to be
determined by narrow principles of nature, separated from . . . [the] effect on
the human mind" (ibid., Discourse viii, I, 281).
17.
See the second chapter ("Likeness Generalized: Aristotle and Sir
Joshua Reynolds") of her Retreat
from Likeness in the Theory of Painting (2d ed.;
18.
Reynolds, Works, Discourse vii, I, 224—25. Even on
the conventional theme of the moral influence of art, Reynolds'
statements are cast in characteristic
terms:
"The Art which we profess has beauty for its
object; this it is our business to discover and to express; the beauty of which
we are in quest is general and intellectual; it is an idea that subsists only
in the mind; the sight never beheld it, nor has the hand expressed it: it is an
idea residing in the breast of the artist, which he is always labouring to impart, and which he dies at last without
imparting; but which he is yet so far able to communicate as to raise the
thoughts, and extend the views of the spectator; and which, by a succession of
art, may be so far diffused, that its effects may extend themselves
imperceptibly into publick benefits, and be among the
means of bestowing on whole nations refinement of taste: which, if it does not
lead directly to purity of manners, obviates at least their greatest
depravation, by disentangling the mind from appetite, and conducting the
thought through successive stages of excellence, till that contemplation of
universal rectitude and harmony which began by Taste, may, as it is exalted and
refined, conclude in Virtue" (ibid., Discourse ix, II, 7—8).
19.
Ibid., Discourse vii, I, 200. Observe
that the three examples correspond to the three modes of truth specified.
20.
"The terms beauty, or nature, which are general ideas,"
Reynolds declares, "are but different modes of expressing the
same thing . . ." (ibid., p. 204). Or again, "there is but
one presiding principle, which regulates and gives stability to every art. The
works, whether of poets, painters, moralists, or historians, which are built
upon general nature, live forever . . ." (ibid., Discourse iv, I, 112).
21.
For a study of the senses in which this term may be used, see Richard P.
McKeon, "Literary Criticism and the Concepts of Imitation in
Antiquity," MP,
XXXIV (August, 1936),
1—35.
22.
Reynolds, Works,
Discourse ii, I,
32.
23.
Ibid., Discourse vi, I, 175.
24.
Ibid., Discourse ii, I, 35. The direct
source of the passage appears to have been The Painting of the Ancients of Franciscus Junius (see Hilles, Literary Career, p.
127).
25.
Reynolds, Works, Discourse vi,
I, 181—82.
z6. Ibid., Discourse
iii, I, S3.
27.
Ibid., p. 52 and Discourse xiii, II, 121.
Once again the discourses, both early and late, appeal to the mind; there is no
shift in orientation.
28.
Ibid., Discourse i,
I, 9.
29.
Ibid., Discourse xiii, II, 142.
30.
Idler No. 82 (November to, 1759).
31.
Sir Uvedale Price, "An Introductory Essay
on Beauty; with Remarks on the Ideas of Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr. Burke, upon
That Subject," prefixed to his A
Dialogue on the Distinct Characters of the Picturesque and the Beautiful . .
. (
Richard Payne Knight, An Analytical Inquiry
into the Principles of Taste (3d ed.;
Dugald Stewart, Philosophical Essays (Edinburgh, 181o), ii. 1.
32.
See Fry's Introduction to the third discourse (Discourses [ed. Fry], PP. 39-47).
33.
On the question of method here mooted, see Paul Goodman, "Neo-Classicism,
Platonism, and Romanticism," Journal
of Philosophy, XXXI, No. 6 (March 15, 1934), 148-63.
34.
The letter is in
Frederick Whiley Hilles, Letters
of Sir Joshua Reynolds (Cambridge University Press,
1929), pp. 9o-93.
35.
Reynolds, Works,
Discourse viii,
1, 276.
36.
Ibid., Discourse iv, I, 92; the numerous similar passages are
trivial, since Reynolds does not regard this as a major distinction. Johnson's
Dictionary (1755) supports Reynolds'
sense of "elegance"; "elegant" is defined, "1. Pleasing with minuter
beauties," and "Elegance, Elegancy" is
defined as "Beauty of art; rather soothing than striking; beauty without
grandeur."
37.
Reynolds, Works,
Discourse xv, II,
204-5.
38.
Ibid., Discourse v, I, 124 and if.
39.
Ibid., Discourse viii, I, 282n.
40.
Thompson, "The Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds," PMLA, XXXII (1917),
358; Donald Cross Bryant, Edmund Burke and His Literary Friends ("
41.
Edmund Burke, "On Taste," Sublime and Beautiful, in Works, I, 67; Reynolds, Works, Discourse vii, II, 199.
42.
Hilles (Literary Career, chap. vii) gives neither Johnson nor Burke much credit for aid in
composing the discourses. The revisions with which John-son and Malone touched
up the first printed editions of the individual discourses are analyzed in an
exhaustive collation of texts by Lauder Greenway, Alterations in the Discourses of
Sir Joshua Reynolds (New York: Privately printed, 1936); Greenway's conclusion is
that the revisions concerned only minutiae of style—Reynolds, in short, wrote
his own discourses.
43.
Reynolds, Works,
Discourse xi, II,
45.
44.
Ibid., Discourse xv, II, 206—7.
45.
Ibid., Discourse xiii, II, 111.
46.
Ibid., p. 112.
47.
Ibid., Discourse iii, I, 55.
48.
Ibid., Discourse vi, I, 156.
49.
Ibid., Discourse xi, II, 43.
50.
Ibid., Discourse vi, I, 186.
51.
Ibid., p. 145.
52.
Ibid., Discourse xv, II, 188-89.
53.
Ibid., Discourse vi, I, 172.
54• Ibid., p.155.
55.
Ibid., Discourse viii, I, 264. The arts "in their highest
province, are not addressed to the gross senses; but to the desires of the
mind, to that spark of divinity which we have within, impatient of being
circumscribed and pent up by the world which is about us" (ibid., Discourse xiii, II, 142-43). It is
patent that in Reynolds' thought, wish-fulfillment is apprehension
of the Ide-al; the distinction of wish-fulfilling
idealization of the actual from the transcendent Ideal (which Macklem stresses in "Reynolds and the Ambiguities of
Neo-Classical Criticism," PQ, XXXI [October, 1952], 383—98)
involves no real opposition.
56.
Reynolds, Works,
Discourse vii, I,
201.
57.
Ibid., Discourse ii, I, 26—27.
58.
Ibid., Discourse xiii, II, 113-18.
S9. Ibid., Discourse v, I, 128-29.
6o.
Reynolds speaks of "whatever partakes of fancy or caprice, or goes under
the denomination of Picturesque" (ibid., Discourse x, II, 37) ; throughout the tenth discourse the
picturesque serves to set off effects inappropriate to sculpture, which above
all other media requires a chaste gravity—the grand style. I post-pone
discussion of Reynolds' views on the picturesque, however, until I treat his
correspondence with Gilpin (infra, pp. 199-201).
61. Reynolds, Works, Discourse xiii, II, 127.
6z. Ibid., Discourse v, I, 132.
63.
The painter "must sometimes deviate from vulgar and strict
historical truth, in pursuing the grandeur of his design" (ibid., Discourse iv, I, 85). Thus, Gothic
architecture, "though not so ancient as the Grecian, is more so to our
imagination, with which the Artist is more concerned than with absolute [i.e.,
historical] truth" (ibid., Discourse xiii, II, 138).
64.
Ibid., Discourse i, I, 8.