13 / Croce /
The Essence of Aesthetic
have left vibrating with expressed images which break
forth by infinite channels from his whole being, is a
whole man, and therefore also a practical man, and as
such takes measures against losing the result of his
spiritual labour, and in favour of rendering possible or
easy, for himself and for others, the reproduction of his
images; hence he engages in practical acts which assist
that work of reproduction. These practical acts are guided,
as are all practical acts, by knowledge, and for this reason
are called technical; and, since they are practical, they are
distinguished from contemplation, which is theoretical,
and seem to be external to it, and are therefore called
physical: and they assume this name the more easily in so
far as they are fixed and made abstract by the intellect.
Thus writing and phonography are connected with words
and music, with painting canvas and wood and walls
covered with colours, stone cut and incised, iron and
bronze and other metals, melted and moulded to certain
shapes, with sculpture and architecture. So distinct among
themselves are the two forms of activity that it is possible
to be a great artist with a bad technique, a poet who
corrects the proofs of his verses badly, an architect who
makes use of unsuitable material or does not attend to
statics, a painter who uses colours that deteriorate rapidly:
examples of these weaknesses are so frequent that it is not
worth while citing any of them. But what is impossible is
to be a great poet who writes verses badly, a great painter
who does not give tone to his colours, a great architect
who does not harmonise his lines, a great composer who
does not harmonise his notes; and, in short, a great artist
who cannot express himself. It has been said of Raphael
that he would have been a great painter even if he had not
possessed hands; but certainly not that he would have
been a great painter if the sense of design and colour had
been wanting to him.
And (be it noted in passing, for I must condense as I
proceed) this apparent transformation of the intuitions
into physical things — altogether analogous with the
apparent transformation of wants and economic labour
into things and into merchandise — also explains how
people have come to talk not only of “artistic things” and
of “beautiful things,” but also of “a beautiful of nature.” It
is evident that, besides the instruments that are made for
the reproduction of images, objects already existing can
be met with, whether produced by man or not, which
perform such a service — that is to say, are more or less
adapted to fixing the memory of our intuitions; and these
things take the name of “natural beauties,” and exercise
their fascination only when we know how to understand
them with the same soul with which the artist or artists
have taken and appropriated them, giving value to them
and indicating the “point of view” from which we must
look at them, thus connecting them with their own
intuitions. But the always imperfect adaptability, the
fugitive nature, the mutability of “natural beauties” also
justify the inferior place accorded to them, compared with
beauties produced by art. Let us leave it to rhetoricians or
the intoxicated to affirm that a beautiful tree, a beautiful
river, a sublime mountain, or even a beautiful horse or a
beautiful human figure, are superior to the chisel-stroke of
Michelangelo or the verse of Dante; but let us say, with
greater propriety, that “nature” is stupid compared with
art, and that she is “mute,” if man does not make her
speak.
A third distinction, which also labours to distinguish the
indistinguishable, takes the concept of the aesthetic
expression, and divides it into the two moments of
expression strictly considered, or propriety, and beauty of
expression, or adorned expression, founding upon these
the classification of two orders of expression, naked and
ornate. This is a doctrine of which traces may be found in
all the various domains of art, but which has not been
developed in any one of them to the same extent as in that
of words, where it bears a celebrated name and is called
“Rhetoric,” and has had a very long history, from the
Greek rhetoricians to our own day. It persists in the
schools, in treatises, and even in aesthetics of scientific
pretensions, besides (as is natural) in common belief,
though in our day it has lost much of its pristine vigour.
Men of lofty intellect have accepted it, or let it live, for
centuries, owing to the force of inertia or of tradition; the
few rebels have hardly ever attempted to reduce their
rebellion to a system and to cut out the error at its roots.
The injury done by Rhetoric, with its idea of “ornate” as
differing from, and of greater value than, “naked” speech,
has not been limited solely to the circle of aesthetic, but
has appeared also in criticism, and even in literary
education, because, just as it was incapable of explaining
perfect beauty, so it was adapted to provide an apparent
justification for vitiated beauty, and to encourage writing
in an inflated, affected, and improper form. However, the
division which it introduces and on which it relies is a
logical contradiction, because, as is easy to prove, it
destroys the concept itself, which it undertakes to divide
into moments, and the objects, which it undertakes to
divide into classes. An appropriate expression, if
appropriate, is also beautiful, beauty being nothing but the
precision of the image, and therefore of the expression;
and if it be intended to indicate by calling it naked that
there is something wanting which should be present, then
the expression is inappropriate and deficient, either it is
not or is not yet expression. On the other hand, an ornate
expression, if it be expressive in every part, cannot be
called ornate, but as naked as the other, and as appropriate
as the other; if it contain inexpressive, additional, external
elements, it is not beautiful, but ugly, it is not, or is not
yet expression; to be so, it must purify itself of external
elements (as the other must be enriched with the elements
that are wanting).
Expression and beauty are not two concepts, but a single
concept, which it is permissible to designate with either
synonymous word: artistic imagination is always
corporeal, but it is not obese, being always clad with itself