The Historians' History of the World 03

We may well believe that demoralising dances existed in Ionia and elsewhere. At Sparta and Athens the Pyrrhic dance was a military exercise and a patriotic training. The ephebi danced them at the greater and lesser Panathenæa, imitating all the movements of a combat for attack, defence, or the evasion of darts. And was not the heroic circle of the Suliote women a recollection of these warlike dances? Having taken refuge on the summit of a mountain to escape a harem or the yataghan of the Turks, they sang their funeral hymn, joined hands and danced on this narrow peak, which was surrounded by precipices. Each time that the ring approached the abyss, the circle was narrowed, for one of their number detached herself from it to fling herself down; and one after another, all threw themselves over.

THE ARTISTS OF THE OTHER CITIES OF HELLAS

[460-410 B.C.]

The fifth century is the golden age of Greek art. We have told of the artists whom Athens gave to the world; we shall now see what others the rest of Hellas produced—such at least whose names have come down to us with an indication of their works.

Chersiphron and his son Metagenes of Knossos, in Crete, are outside the period with which we are dealing, for they began the construction of the great temple of Ephesus in the sixth century.

The domain of statuary had a great artist whom the ancients have compared to Phidias, Polyclitus of Sicyon or Argos. The artists of the century of Pericles did not confine themselves to one corner of the regions of art; they cultivated the whole. Polyclitus was as much a skilful architect as a great sculptor. At Epidaurus he erected a circular monument, the Tholus, and a theatre which was much admired by the ancients; at Argos his Juno was the rival of the Minerva of the Parthenon, though it did not stand as high, and was less costly. Phidias lived with the gods in spirit, Polyclitus dwelt more among men. He even wrote on the proportions of the human body, and applied his knowledge to his Doryphorus, which was called the “canon,” or the “rule.” The ancients divided the palm for statuary between the two great artists: giving it to the one for his gods; to the other for his Canephorus, which Verres stole from the Sicilians, his Amazon, which triumphed over that of Phidias in the famous competition at Ephesus, and his statues of successful athletes, such as the Diadumenus and the two Astragalizontes, or dice-players. Myron, whom we might have included among the Athenian artists, went farther in his imitation of nature; his bronze cow was famous, and still more so his Discobolus, whose attitude must have been very difficult to render.

Polygnotus of Thasos, whom Cimon brought from that town in 463, lived for a long time on the banks of the Ilissus, and was given the rights of an Athenian citizen as a reward for his labours in the decoration of the temple of Theseus, the Anaceum, the Pœcile, and a part of the Propylæa. There was some stiffness in the designs of Polygnotus; his was a sculptural painting which, nevertheless, obtained great effects by very simple means. The ancients lauded the expression and beauty of his figures, but they have neither the grace nor the dramatic character which the painters of the period that followed were to give to their works. The arts of painting and statuary are two sisters who resemble each other, and both follow the variations of taste: the first with a vivacity at times imprudent, the second with more reserve. Zeuxis of Heraclea Pontica and his rival, Parrhasius of Ephesus, were younger than Polygnotus. Their painting was already more scientific, less ideal, and nearer reality. Aristotle reproaches Zeuxis with yielding too much to Ionian effeminacy. If we are to believe anecdotes whose frequent repetition does not make them more authentic, these painters even succeeded in deceiving the eye: the one with a bunch of grapes which the birds came to peck at, the other with a curtain which Zeuxis attempted to draw back, thinking that it concealed the real picture. These would be triumphs of ingenuity rather than art. It is to be noted that both men drew freely on the abundant resources of ancient poetry. Both attained to great fame and opulence. In spite of the misfortunes of the times, Greece still had gold for her favourite painters. Archelaus, king of Macedon, paid four hundred minæ for the painting of Zeuxis in his palace, and Parrhasius never appeared in public without a robe of purple fringed with gold. He considered himself “master of the elegancies,” as well as of his art, so we need not wonder at his having inclined to effeminate gracefulness. “His Theseus,” said Ephranor, “is fed on roses; mine was fed on meat.” But it was at a later time, with Lysippus and Pamphilus, that the school of Sicyon was to have its full splendour.