Modern Artistic Handicraft

MUCH has been said of the lack of artistic merit in the products of modern handicrafts, and many efforts at improvement have been made, though as yet with little substantial result. Notwithstanding the extensive activities of the South Kensington establishment, by which the British government hoped to effect far-reaching, and commercially profitable reforms in the so-called industrial arts, the Eastlake Household Art movement, the William Morris movement, and various other corporate and individual enterprises, it is beginning to appear that little real improvement has been effected. The standard of excellence has not been so materially raised as was expected, and much of what has been produced as a result of the efforts of the propagandists of reform is now found to be of questionable merit.

An address lately published¹ by Mr. Arthur A. Cary, the president of The Society of Arts and Crafts in Boston, gives promise of a more hopeful movement in seeking, as a primary condition of success, to find the fundamental obstacles which have thus far stood in the way of reform. Efforts at improvement consistently maintained in the spirit of this address cannot fail to accomplish something of importance in the way of enlightenment as to the conditions on which good artistic production must rest, though to bring about these conditions, and thus to effect any general improvement of the arts, must be a slow process, because it involves nothing less than a radical change in widely prevailing motives and desires.

A fundamental weakness of most of the movements hitherto started has been that they have not been based on a just recognition of what is involved in artistic reform. Even the less remote conditions of success have not been clearly seen. A misconception of what is properly meant by artistic design has prevailed. It has been conceived too much as something abstract and extraneous which may be applied to objects of use in order to beautify them. Thus the term “applied design” has come into vogue. But if there be a sense in which it may be correct to speak of design as applied, there is a fundamental misconception involved in the general idea. The extent to which good design in handicrafts is connected with good craftsmanship is lost sight of. This is apt to be the case under our confused modern teaching, even when the designer and the craftsman are one and the same person. It is, of course, still more so when they are not. The idea of applied design has naturally grown out of the modern system of division of labor. But this system is injurious, if not wholly destructive, to artistic design. There can hardly be any complete division of labor between the designer and the manual worker in handicrafts without disastrous results. The designer who is not a craftsman not only lacks the practical basis of apprehension that is needful, but he becomes sophisticated, and too much affects design. The craftsman must be, for the most part, himself the designer; but he must be imbued with the spirit of his craft, and have regard to it primarily. If he think too much of design, and strive for novelty, he will surely go wrong. He must be a modest worker, and find pleasure in doing excellent work for use. He must be governed by a controlling sense of fitness, and realize that no design can be good which is incompatible with use, or which violates the principles of constructive propriety.

A natural part of the misconception of design as something to be applied is the notion that the faculty of it may be acquired by a study of rules. But the principles of design cannot be formulated and applied by rule. Design is not a mechanical application of formulæ, nor is it a science. It is a fine art. There are, indeed, certain general principles underlying it that have been deduced from practice, approved by experience, and confirmed by philosophical considerations, which may be intelligibly stated, and may, in some measure, quicken apprehension where it has not already been consciously awakened. But a knowledge of these will not make a designer. The faculty of artistic design is a faculty of the creative imagination. It is a supremely logical faculty, but it involves a great deal more than logic, and is primarily animated and directed by that subtle feeling which no science can grasp or explain.

There is little need for original design in the forms of most objects of use. The best shapes for utensils and household furniture were evolved long ago. In the making of these objects there is slight occasion even for what is called adaptation. For the form of a spoon, a bowl, or a pitcher, better models already exist than any others that the most clever designer can invent. While the functions and materials of things remain unchanged the craftsman will thus have little need to seek new forms. Let him learn to appreciate the best existing forms, and to reproduce these in the best manner. The best forms are those which best serve their intended uses. A spoon must be convenient to handle, its bowl must have the right angle, its handle must not be too heavy for convenience, nor too light for strength. It must expand, and be flattened, for comfortable grasp, and the best form for the narrow shaft connecting the handle with the bowl will be narrow transversely, and thick the other way to stiffen its delicate leverage. The meeting of these conditions alone will go far to give the object grace, and if the craftsman have an eye for beauty of line and surface, such as may be caught from the living curves and subtle modelings of leaves and stems, he will naturally impart to his implement some corresponding grace and refinement. A bowl must stand firmly, therefore it must be relatively large at its base. But for convenience its greatest diameter must be at its rim. For its outline in elevation a curve of double flexure is unnecessary, and may be inconvenient. The best outline for use is a simple convex curve, to which the craftsman may, if he will, give a beauty like that of the sea urchin. The essential qualities of a pitcher are that it stand firmly, that it balance well in the hand, and that it pour well. It must therefore have a firm base, its handle must extend well down on its side to give an easy fulcrum, and its spout must be so formed as to give proper direction to the stream in pouring. Its opening ought to be large enough for the insertion of the hand, and its surfaces, within and without, should be smooth enough for facility of cleansing. Most convenient and most graceful forms of all such objects were long ago produced, yet inappropriate and awkward forms are more common in modern use than good ones. Now the bad forms that prevail are the result of misdirected efforts at original design largely on the part of men who are not craftsmen, and have little knowledge of craft. Such designers seek for novelties of form and ornamentation without regard to adaptation to use, with the inevitable result that every departure from the standard forms, long since attained, has contributed to make the objects produced both unhandy and ungraceful.

Within the limits of the best established forms there is room in every object for countless variations of line and surface, such as will naturally be made, without much conscious effort at originality, by the intelligent workman who has acquired an artistic sense of form. Thus the proportions and outlines of the finest Greek amphoræ are endlessly varied, no two examples having precisely the same shape, though the general standard form is maintained in all. These variations are, of course, in part due to accidental irregularities inherent in all hand work; but even these have a charm when they come from the hand of a workman of artistic feeling and skill.

The refinements which distinguish the most beautiful objects of artistic workmanship are not striking to the common eye. Their varieties do not constitute conspicuous novelties of design. The good workman does not strive for novelty, or seek applause. He finds satisfaction and pleasure in merely excellent production on well-established lines. There has been too little appreciation of this on the part of those who have striven for artistic reform in the industrial arts. They have, though without intending it, encouraged a false ambition which has made the designer vain of his art and forgetful of his craft.

One of the immediate causes which have induced this condition, and retarded progress, is the lack of discrimination in the use of models. This has been conspicuous in the methods adopted in the English government schools. The promiscuous collections of bricabrac gathered in the South Kensington Museum include multitudes of objects which have no merit as works of art, and many among those which have merit in some points embody, at the same time, vices of design that render them pernicious as models. The credulous artisan, finding these things set before him as guides to his taste, accepts them as authoritative, and imitates their defects. Such objects are largely those of the Italian Renaissance. Objects of use have rarely been designed with less regard to propriety and convenience of form, or temperance of enrichment, than those of the Italian workmen of that period. The ornamental art of the Renaissance, with all its delicate refinement, is remarkable for lack of fitness in all branches of design in works of utility, from architecture down to the lowest handicrafts.

For instance, I have before me a photograph of a silver ewer of the school of Benvenuto Cellini. Its general outline is graceful in the abstract, being one which, with many minor variations, characterizes a large class of Greek vases. But the neck is so small, and the shoulder so pronounced, that the vessel would have to be completely inverted to empty it. The ornamental handle is shaped and adjusted with no respect to facility of grasp or ease of pouring. It rises from the top of the shoulder, close to the neck, so that it would require a painful effort to tilt the jug when filled. It is rendered further difficult to handle by very salient ornaments which leave no portion smooth enough for comfort to the hand. A silver cup with handles, of the same school of workmen, has a rim which flares so that it must be difficult to drink from, and the handles, here also, are armed with projecting points of ornament painful to grasp. Of the numerous silver plates by Cellini and his followers, few, if any, could be made serviceable on account of the ornaments in high relief with which their surfaces are loaded. The forms of these objects are not always beautiful even in the abstract; but in respect to adaptation to use they are often ridiculous, and as models they can be only stumblingblocks to the craftsman.

In some classes of objects the details of form are not so strictly governed by adaptation to use, and there is more room for a free play of independent artistic fancy. In this category are things that do not have to be much handled: lamps, candelabra, firedogs, picture frames, etc. Adaptation to use is, of course, imperative in these also, but the introduction of many details of a purely ornamental character may not be inconsistent with such use as they subserve. The value of these details will depend on their merits considered as abstract ornamental design. But aberrations of design in the abstract are less easy to demonstrate than infractions of the principles of utility, since they consist in violations of laws which are, for the most part, too subtle for analysis. The more general principles of symmetry, harmony, and measure may, however, serve as a basis of criticism as far as they go, and there are some obvious principles of congruity which cannot be violated without offense, but which often are violated in the handicrafts of the Renaissance. For instance, I have another photograph, of an ecclesiastical candelabrum by Fra Giovanni of Verona that is open to objection in its purely ornamental forms, though in general adaptation to its function no fault can be found with it. The function of such a thing is merely to hold a great candle firmly at a required height. A tall shaft on a firm base is all that is needed for this use, and the object in question has these parts properly adjusted. The shaft, however, is ornamented improperly. It has, indeed, a series of swelling and contracting surfaces, and salient circular rings and mouldings, which, though of no great beauty, have some merits of line and proportion, and are well enough in their way; but this appropriate scheme of embellishment is broken just above the middle by a miniature architectural composition in the form of an octagonal tabernacle resting on the backs of diminutive sphinxes ranged on the circumference of one of the salient rings. This feature, badly designed in itself, is inappropriate. To fashion a sarcophagus, or a reliquary, in the form of a diminutive architectural design, as was done in ancient times, and in the Middle Ages, may be well enough. The forms of these objects lend themselves to such ornamental treatment; but to work an architectural scheme around the shaft of a candelabrum is incongruous.

In these, and in many other ways, the handicrafts of the Renaissance embody vices of design which unfit them to be taken by the modern artisan as exemplary models for imitation. It does not, however, follow that no advantage may be derived from the study of them. These remarks are intended to show only that all such models should be studied with intelligence and discrimination which have not been enough inculcated in the recent efforts at artistic reform in handicrafts. The craftsman needs to exercise a critical habit, to gather from models their excellent qualities which may be suited to his uses, and to reject what is unsuitable. The primary guides to the formation of such a critical habit are a thorough knowledge of his craft, and the true spirit of a craftsman, which will prompt him to work with a controlling regard for the uses of the objects that he makes. But the causes of failure thus far considered are not the fundamental causes. They do not wholly explain the general lack of artistic excellence in handicrafts. There are causes back of these which must be reached before we can gain a solid working basis for general improvement in design. Mr. Cary, in his admirable address already alluded to, finds them in the commercial spirit of our time. This is an important discovery. Twenty-five years ago, when efforts were making to introduce the South Kensington methods as a means of improving industrial arts on the artistic side, the commercial spirit was appealed to. The pecuniary advantage that it was hoped would accrue was then held up as a motive for supporting the proposed measures for public instruction in design. But Mr. Cary is certainly right in affirming that the commercial spirit, even when most honorable, can have no place as a motive in artistic production. As a motive it is an obstacle that is sure to defeat improvement.

It is not, however, in the commercial spirit alone that the root of the trouble lies. The prevalence of the commercial spirit does not wholly explain why the better things which a few exceptionally able craftsmen produce do not readily find a market. The commercial spirit is only a part, or a consequence, of other causes which have their root in popular conditions giving rise to a restless desire for novelty and show, with little respect for real excellence of any kind. Thus with the growth and diffusion of material resources extensive demands have arisen for merely specious forms of art. While such demands prevail the commercial spirit will naturally seek profit in supplying them, and the efforts of a few æsthetically inclined people will count for little. We cannot hope to reform the arts from the outside. Reform in art, as in life, must come from within. To improve our material surroundings it is necessary first to reform our motives and desires. The works of our hands must ever be the result and expression of our essential character.

Before the fine arts can materially improve among us we have got to care more for them. A genuine and an active craving for beauty, and a recognition of its meaning and worth, must prevail. To such craving the artistic powers of the people will promptly respond, as they do to whatever we strongly desire and strive for. There is no lack of latent artistic capacity among us, but there is a woeful lack of artistic intelligence due to neglect and indifference. Our absorbing interests and successful achievements are in other directions. Men always do best what the largest numbers of the most intelligent among them care most for. Our predominant interests are plainly not at present in the direction of the fine arts. The spirit of scientific investigation, of mechanical works, and of commercial enterprises, all good and important in themselves, is the controlling spirit of the air we breathe. This, and the restless habit which the too strenuous pursuit of material interests engenders, the superficial tastes, and seeking for novelties which are the natural concomitants of such conditions, make it impossible for genuine artistic apprehensions, and the sense of artistic needs, to gain any large foothold. Thus into the complex of our modern life interest in the fine arts enters as yet so subordinately that it does not perceptibly influence our general ideas and activities. Thrust aside from a foremost place, the fine arts among us are dishonored and stunted; and it is no wonder that in handicrafts wrought for the larger public, meretricious design, suited to the popular demand for the specious, takes the place of that which should be an expression of genuine and disciplined artistic feeling.

What, then, may those of us who care for good design in handicrafts hope under existing conditions to effect in the way of reform ? To say nothing of the matters which concern the spiritual and moral foundation of the fine arts, we may hope to induce among the thoughtful a justly critical spirit which shall lead them to seek what is excellent in household belongings. The acceptance of the specious in the adornment of objects of use is largely from thoughtlessness, often on the part of otherwise intelligent and thoughtful people. The exercise of a discriminating spirit, even by a few, will at once create a demand which, though limited, may support and encourage the small number of artistic craftsmen who already have a right conception of their art, and a genuine aspiration for excellence; but who, Mr. Cary tells us, are now unable to find a market for their wares. We must seek to awaken and maintain among artistic workmen the truest ideals. Affectations, vagaries, and extravagances of every kind must be discouraged, and sound, suitable,substantial, and finished work required. Every kind of simulation and cheapness got by hasty and imperfect execution must be repressed. There is no greater obstacle to artistic progress than that which lies in the cheapening of things by flimsiness of make. The common saying of the dealer that a thing is good for its price expresses an idea that is hostile to excellence. A thing is not good from an artistic point of view if it be not the best that can be produced at any price.

In criticism we ought not to be too confident of our judgments of artistic excellence. We have all been too long surrounded by false aims, and spurious production, to completely free ourselves at once from the habits of mind they have induced. We must be on our guard against crotchets to which all reformers are prone. We should realize that with the best intentions we may make mistakes; but our mistakes will correct themselves as we persistently seek for uncompromising excellence.

Charles H. Moore.