DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4858#0034
THE ART OF THE NECROPOLIS
work, the reason being, perhaps, that in art, as in literature, few men
in those days could regard their work as an individual achievement.
Conventional groups, postures regulated by unvarying tradition, and
designs which served as a type, though never as an exact model,
formed the basis of the artist's work. The detail in which his indi-
viduality might be shown lay only in the minor parts. He amused
himself therewith and was probably rather ashamed than otherwise of
what lay outside his professional routine, though for us it is often just
these deviations that confer special distinction. It might be suggested
that the best work of the masters lay in stock designs which their
pupils adapted to the requirements of patrons. Rut as no fragment
of papyrus or stone has come down to us which contains such a mural
design, it is almost certain that such compositions did not exist. Small
and separate studies were the utmost that the artist permitted himself
by way of practice. His designs, like the themes of the ancient poet
or narrator, were accumulated, corrected, perfected on the sensitive
tablet of memory alone, and first became actual as a complete com-
position on the walls of a tomb. There others studied it and thence
transferred it, if it pleased them, to other sites. This transference by
memory alone explains why close similarities abound, but copies rarely
or never; even though the wearisome repetition of certain figures and
objects strongly urged to it.1
It is strange that the artist did not rank higher in Egyptian soci-
ety. Superlative value apparently was attached to his art. It had
power, within limits, to create and destroy, to make and unmake
destinies, to confer salvation or annihilation, to preserve individuality,
or mar it forever. His powers must have seemed magical to the
multitude. He was indispensable to the king, the means by which
the monarch's fame and piety were immortalized and by which the
The Theban
school and
its methods
The in-
conspicuous
artist
Apparently, artificial methods of reduplication were rarely used, the trained fingers of the draughts-
men being already so facile an instrument of reproduction. Yet the devotion to early models which often
influenced artists necessitated the taking of sketches and notes, and in two instances subjects are found
squared up for copying to scale (Borchardt, Grabdenkmal d. Sahure, I, p. io5, Fig. i32, and Tomb g3, Thebes).
Cf. Davies, Der el Gebrawi I, Plates XIII-XVI, XXIV, XXV; Erman, A. Z., LII, p. go.
work, the reason being, perhaps, that in art, as in literature, few men
in those days could regard their work as an individual achievement.
Conventional groups, postures regulated by unvarying tradition, and
designs which served as a type, though never as an exact model,
formed the basis of the artist's work. The detail in which his indi-
viduality might be shown lay only in the minor parts. He amused
himself therewith and was probably rather ashamed than otherwise of
what lay outside his professional routine, though for us it is often just
these deviations that confer special distinction. It might be suggested
that the best work of the masters lay in stock designs which their
pupils adapted to the requirements of patrons. Rut as no fragment
of papyrus or stone has come down to us which contains such a mural
design, it is almost certain that such compositions did not exist. Small
and separate studies were the utmost that the artist permitted himself
by way of practice. His designs, like the themes of the ancient poet
or narrator, were accumulated, corrected, perfected on the sensitive
tablet of memory alone, and first became actual as a complete com-
position on the walls of a tomb. There others studied it and thence
transferred it, if it pleased them, to other sites. This transference by
memory alone explains why close similarities abound, but copies rarely
or never; even though the wearisome repetition of certain figures and
objects strongly urged to it.1
It is strange that the artist did not rank higher in Egyptian soci-
ety. Superlative value apparently was attached to his art. It had
power, within limits, to create and destroy, to make and unmake
destinies, to confer salvation or annihilation, to preserve individuality,
or mar it forever. His powers must have seemed magical to the
multitude. He was indispensable to the king, the means by which
the monarch's fame and piety were immortalized and by which the
The Theban
school and
its methods
The in-
conspicuous
artist
Apparently, artificial methods of reduplication were rarely used, the trained fingers of the draughts-
men being already so facile an instrument of reproduction. Yet the devotion to early models which often
influenced artists necessitated the taking of sketches and notes, and in two instances subjects are found
squared up for copying to scale (Borchardt, Grabdenkmal d. Sahure, I, p. io5, Fig. i32, and Tomb g3, Thebes).
Cf. Davies, Der el Gebrawi I, Plates XIII-XVI, XXIV, XXV; Erman, A. Z., LII, p. go.