But a sculptor must be careful to choose a subject which he understands and loves. His is perhaps the most enduring craft and many are the miscreations that live too long. Often without more than a few hours of thought he will start a work which will take him years to complete and which may exist for centuries. Thus sculpture must have a fundamental meaning and the artist should think of it as existing not only for his contemporaries but for generations to come. For this reason he must deal with those quali ties which all men comprehend. By this it is not suggested that a meaning which is involved or literary can be employed. Such meanings are not sufficiently universal, and the contemplation which is necessary before the sculptor begins work should consist of preliminary observation, the assembling of notes made at previous times, and those trial sketches recording things which he may forget in the heat of his actual work. It is said that famous painters of the Far East often merge themselves in con templation of the silk upon which they are going to develop a work of art, and that they do not permit themselves to make even the lightest line suggestive of the composition, for the reason that the first touch of brush to silk to a certain degree commits them, and masses, rhythms and lines can be more easily moved in the imagination before this first lightest touch has begun the crystal lization of what they wish to do. Many great sculptors have weak ened their work by not devoting an amount of time in considera tion proportionate to that expended in the actual labour. This was especially true of Michelangelo who in the great vigour of his mind sometimes created beings that seemed to wish to reach outside the block of stone. (See SCULPTURE TECHNIQUE: flodel ing, Theory.) having selected the subject and model it is necessary to choose certain characteristics and to eliminate those extraneous details which do not form an inherent and component part of its being. This is the artist's privilege, nay, it is almost the heart of his work, and selection must be thought out carefully. Many modern artists are carrying this privilege so far that their work eliminates all possibility for those blending chords of characteristics that develop in a fine portrait sculpture as rightly as in organ music. Thus the "Portrait of Mme. Pogany" by Brancusi (see SCULPTURE PORTRAIT, Plate X., fig. 3) when compared with the other two portraits on the page, that of "Lafayette" by Houdon and that of "Admiral Farragut" by Charles Grafly, seems childlike in its simplicity. The work of the true portrait sculptor as seen in the other two, shows all the com plications of the characters portrayed, but reduces them to a meaningful whole. It is difficult to understand why in these days of diversity of interest and complications of existence some artists should choose to show less in their work than did many of the more primitive peoples. Compare the Brancusi head (Plate X., fig. 3 of SCULPTURE) with Plate IX. One must agree that this simplified characterisation can hardly be more than an affectation, for the result does not gain in the distinction of design, which is demonstrated in the negro head of Plate IX., fig. 8, of SCULPTURE, and to which Brancusi's work is distinctly inferior in the por trayal of character. Thus character portrayal and accent are not caricature, nor are they the assumed attitude of a theorist.
The primitive artist first makes as good a copy as he can of the object he is attempting to portray and then feeling a lack in its static quality resorts to various devices to indicate its move ment. In doing so he combines what he actually sees, the objec tive, with what he feels, the subjective ; and every artist does the same, for nothing in nature is quite good enough to satisfy the artist; he must improve on it a little. Nothing in nature exactly fits with the spirit of his mood and thought, and therefore he must mould it the better to suit his expression. It is this subjective quality which, along with his technique, creates what we call the artist's style, for in it we see something of the man himself ; we see the object which he is portraying through his eyes, coloured by his emotions, illuminated by his dreams and enriched by his knowledge. But this style should never be con sciously imposed upon the theme in such a way as to obscure it, for the artist's true endeavour is to make it possible for his fel lowmen to see more clearly and with more feeling than they could without him. In order to accomplish his purpose he may make a round breast rounder to point out its roundness, or in like manner accent or suppress any quality of light or shade, strength or weakness, vigour or impassivity, any emotion, any association, or any other reaction which he may choose to employ, if the power of his work upon his fellowmen can thereby be in creased, so that it enlightens and instructs them in the experience of the beautiful, and broadens their understanding. The grotesque of the Renaissance may be as great art as the placid figures of an Amida Buddha, for art, like science, is not concerned with right and wrong, good and bad. Its urge is to broaden and explain, to impart feelings which could never be expressed in words, and which may never have been felt or expressed in just that indi vidual way before. Thus it makes us understand almost as though we ourselves had experienced all that the artist has.