From the earliest times great sculptors, in producing a single figure in action, have chosen for the representation a moment of rest between two steps in the action, so that the character of these steps is instantly recognized by the observer, whose imagination unconsciously carries through the action. If every part of the figure is built up conformably with the action, with due regard to the position from which the statue is to be seen, an illusion of motion will follow, though this is necessarily so rapid that the effect upon the observer is indirect: he translates the impression into appreciation of the lifelike attitude of the figure. Nearly all the ancient Greek sculptured figures known to us, commencing with those of Myron, are characterized by this excellence in design, and so with the best work of the Italian Renaissance. Modern sculptors of repute have also endeavoured to provide the illusion, Rodin in particular holding that it should be the aim of every sculptor.[69]
The painter is in a different position from the sculptor because the latter may design his figure with special reference to the position it is to occupy, and so he can in a measure compel the observer to see it in a particular way. Thus, the base of the statue may be some height above the ground, in which case the observer must necessarily run his eyes up the figure from the feet; or it may be seen first in a three-quarter view so that the position of the limbs will apparently change as the observer moves to the front. Such accidental circumstances may be considered by the sculptor in his plan. The painter has no such advantage, for his figure is the same from whichever point it is to be seen, within reasonable limits; but he has compensation in the use of tones and accessories of which the sculptor is deprived. That the painter may provide an excellent illusion with a single figure in action is evidenced by Raphael's superb St. Margaret, where the Saint is seen stepping over the dragon.[a] Every part of her body, and every fold of drapery is used in the expression of movement, the effect being so perfect that we cannot disassociate the figure from the action.[70]
The painters of the first century of the Renaissance never properly represented a figure in the act of walking, and there are few pictures even of the fifteenth century where a serious attempt is made to choose the best moment in which to exhibit such a figure. The first successful essay in the task seems to have been in The Tribute Money of Masaccio,[a] who indeed was fifty years ahead of his fellows in the faithful representation of action. There was a jump of two decades or so after Masaccio to the next good figure, which was that of an attendant in Filipo Lippi's complex tondo at Florence.[b] This figure must have caused considerable surprise at the time, for it was copied into several works by subsequent artists, notably Domenico Ghirlandaio,[c] and probably suggested the fine figure carrying a jar of water on her head in Raphael's Fire at the Borgo.[d] But Raphael, who mastered every problem in composition, solved this one so completely that he left nothing for his successors to learn respecting it. Not only are the limbs of his moving figures so perfectly arranged that we see only action, but folds of the drapery used on the figures are sufficient to indicate preceding movements,[e] and this is so even when the figures are stationary, but the head, arms, or upper part of the body have moved.[f] This extraordinary feature of Raphael's work will ever form a subject of astonishment and admiration.