THE PROCESS OF SCULPTURETHE GREEK SLAVE.—This statue having, on its first presentation to the American public, excited unbounded admiration and enthusiasm, a brief account of it will be interesting to its author's fellow-countrymen. The Greek Slave is the second ideal work of the American sculptor, Hiram Powers; the Eve being his first. The clay model was begun and finished in the summer and autumn of 1842. American sculptors having been hitherto obliged to work abroad, but few of our citizens have had opportunities of witnessing the labors of the studio; acceptable, therefore, will be some explanation of the several processes through which a work in sculpture must pass, ere the artist can present his conception smoothly embodied in marble. The visitors to the "Slave" will thus be made acquainted with the bodily birth and growth of the wonderful creation that stands before them in dazzling beauty. The conception being matured in the artist's mind, the first step in the process of giving form to it is to erect, on a firm pedestal, a skeleton of iron, whose height, breadth, and limbs are determined by the size and shape of the proposed statue. In this case it would be about five feet high, with branches, first at the shoulders, running down forwards for the arms, then at the hips, to support the large mass of clay in the trunk, and thence divided in two for the legs. About this strong, simple frame is now roughly built, with wet clay, the predetermined image. Rapidly is this moulded into an approximation of the human form; and when the trunk, head, and limbs have been definitely shaped, then begins the close labor of the mind. The living models are summoned, and by their aid the surface is wrought to its last stage of finish. I say models, for to achieve adequately a high ideal, several are needed. Nature rarely centres in one individual all her gifts of corporeal beauty. For the Eve, Powers had more than a score of models. The modern Christian artist cannot be favored as was the painter Zeuxis of old, to whom a Grecian city, that had ordered from him a picture of Helen, sent a number of its choicest maidens, that out of their various graces and beauties he might, as it were, extract one matchless form. For the "Slave," the character Powers had established in Florence, for purity and uprightness, obtained for him one model (who was not a professional sitter) of such perfection of form as to furnish nearly all that he could derive from a model. With this breathing figure before him, and through his precise knowledge of the form and expression of every part of the human body, obtained from the study of nature, and his own deep artistic intuitions, the clay under his hand gradually grew into life, and assumed the elastic, vital look, which no mere anatomical knowledge or craft of hand can give, but which is imparted by the genial sympathy with nature's living forms in alliance with a warm sensibility to the beautiful,—qualities which crown and render effectual the other less elevated endowments for art. Thus, by the most minute manual labor, directed by those high and refined mental gifts, the clay model of the "Slave" was wrought out; and there the artist's work ended: the creation was complete. The processes whereby it was now to be transferred to marble, though of a delicate, difficult time, requiring labor and time, are purely mechanical, and are performed, under the artist's direction, by uninspired hands. In order that the soft clay image be transformed into the harder substance, without suffering the slightest change in its surface, a mold is applied to it in the same way and with the same material as when a cast is taken of the living face or head, by means of semi-liquid plaster of Paris. The clay figure is entirely covered with this substance, from one to two or more inches thick, provision being made for taking off the arms, and for splitting the trunk after the plaster shall have hardened. The clay is then all taken out, the hollow mold is cleaned, and then refilled with semi-liquid plaster of Paris. When this, which now occupies entirely and minutely the place of the clay, has in its turn become hardened, the outside crust of plaster is broken from it, and then is laid bare an exact fac-simile of the original clay figure, in hard, smooth plaster of Paris, capable of bearing the usage of the studio, and of receiving the many marks that are to guide the marble-cutters, whose work now begins. First comes the blocker-out, with his heavy mallet and coarse chisel, under whose rough blows the white block soon begins to grow into a rude likeness of humanity. Then, a finer workman, who loosens more of the folds that overlay the beaming image that the artist is bent on disclosing from the centre of the marble. And finally, the artist himself, or, as in this case, a refined worker, schooled under the eye of Powers, gives the finishing touches, reproducing with unsurpassed accuracy, in the transparent, pure marble, every swell and indentation and minutest curve, all the countless delicacies of detail, the which, combined with and forming grand sweeping lines, characterize the original as moulded in clay by the hand of Powers. And now in the midst of us here is the marvellous work, drawing from our hearts a flood of vivifying, purifying emotion—a revelation made by its author to his countrymen of the power and majesty of Art. They who have looked in silent delight on the Venus of the Tribune in Florence, no longer enjoy a unique privilege. On our native shore, sprung from the warm bosom of native strength, a fresh emanation from the exhaustless soul of beauty, stands a work, as resplendent with the impress of genius as the famed Grecian goddess, as sublimely simple, as vividly graceful, and more touching in its moral appeal. The stronger the genius, the simpler the elements wherewith it delights to work. How simple, how common are those by which such overpowering effect is wrought—a young maiden in a condition of painful constraint. But the two great sources of human interest, the human body, and, shining through it, the human soul, are here. The artist has had the creative vigor to reproduce, in its indescribable symmetry, its matchless grace, its infinite beauty, that chief marvel of the earth, the human body, making transparent through these attributes, deep inward power and emotion; and it is because he has had this inspired mastery, that, standing before his work, the beholder is not only spell-bound by beauty, but awed by a solemn, ineffable feeling, and mysteriously drawn closer into the chastening presence of God. G. H. CALVERT. |