Various - Harvard Psychological Studies, Volume 1

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In the case of the trochee the unaccented syllable occurs in the first
third of the relaxation phase (B).

It is interesting to note that the unaccented element of the trochee
comes at the earlier part of the relaxation phase, where it must
intensify the relaxation process, and tend to shorten the total length
of the cycle. This may be the reason for its peculiar buoyant,
vigorous and non-final character. On the other hand the unaccented
element of the iamb occurs at a point where it may initiate and
intensify the contraction, which gives the limiting sensation; it is,
therefore, more closely bound to the limiting sensation, and has the
character of intensifying the beat. There is a similar contrast in the
cases of the dactyl and anapaest. The accented syllable of the dactyl
is longest, and the second unaccented syllable, the last in the group,
is shortest. The accented syllable of the anapaest is much longer in
proportion than that of the dactyl, and the unaccented syllables are
very short, and hence, very close to the accented syllable, as
compared with the dactyl.

In the case of the dactyl the first unaccented syllable in the
movement cycle occurs at the beginning of the relaxation phase (B), in
the same zone as the unaccented of the trochee. The second unaccented
syllable of the dactyl appears at the beginning of the next
contraction phase (A), in the zone of the unaccented syllable of the
iamb. The group seems a sort of combination of the iamb and trochee,
and has an element in every possible zone of the movement cycle. Like
the trochee the dactyl is a non-final foot.

The unaccented syllables of the anapaest both occur at the beginning of
the contraction phase (A). They are both within the zone of the
unaccented syllable of the iamb. The group seems an iamb with a
duplicated unaccented syllable. It is possible to form a unit group in
nonsense syllables where the unaccented syllable of the iamb shall be
represented not by two syllables, as in the anapaest, but by even
three.

The anapaest and dactyl, if they correspond to this construction,
should show a decided difference as to the possibility of prolonging
the foot pause. The prolongation of the foot pause would make the
dactyl but a modified trochee.

It is significant that in poetry no other types of unit groups are
often recognized. The amphibrach, laid out on this scheme, would
coincide with the dactyl, as there are but three possible zones for
foot elements: the zone of the limiting sensation (always occupied by
the accented syllable), the zone of the contraction phase (occupied by
the unaccented syllables of the iamb and anapaest), and the zone of the
relaxation phase (occupied by the unaccented syllable of the trochee
and the middle syllable of the dactyl).

The simple sound series is fairly regular, because of its cyclic and
automatic character. It is not a matter of time estimation, and the
'Taktgleichheit' is not observed with accuracy. The primary requisite
for the unit groups is that they shall be _alike_, not that they shall
be _equal_. The normal cycle with a heavy accent is longer than the
normal cycle with a lighter accent, for the simple reason that it
takes muscles longer to relax from the tenser condition. Time is not
mysteriously 'lost'; the objective difference is not noticed, simply
because there are no striking differences in the cycles to lead one to
a time judgment. Ebhardt's notion that the motor reaction interferes
with the time judgment, and that a small amount of time is needed in
the rhythmic series in which to make time judgments, is a mere myth.

An unusual irregularity, like a 'lag,' is noted because of the sense
of strain and because other events supervene in the interval. But such
lags may be large without destroying the rhythm; indeed caesural and
verse pauses are essential to a rhythm, and in no sense
rhythm-destroying. An unbroken series of unit groups is an abstraction
to which most forms of apparatus have helped us. Between the extreme
views of Bolton[24] and Sidney Lanier,[25]who make regularity an
essential of the rhythm of verse, and Meumann, on the other hand, who
makes the meaning predominate over the rhythm, the choice would fall
with Meumann, if one must choose. Bolton comes to the matter after an
investigation in which regularity was a characteristic of all the
series. Lanier's constructions are in musical terms, and for that very
reason open to question. He points out many subtle and interesting
relationships, but that verse can be formulated in terms of music is a
theory which stands or falls by experimental tests.

[24] Bolton, T.L.: _loc. cit._

[25] Lanier, S.: 'The Science of English Verse.'

TABLE XII.

I saw a ship a sailing
50 16 20 13 9 18 32 23- 132
A sailing on the sea
10 16 45 22 8 15 49 -68
And it was full of pretty things
8 6 20 6 6 27 37 12 8 7 20 12 41 -34
For baby and for me
14 9 27 37 18 20 14 8 46 --

Totals of the feet: --/66/60/187
26/45/45/117
14/59/49/47/75
23/64/60/46--

Who killed Cock Robin
19 34 23 24 17-77
I said the sparrow
45 21 19 3 47 29 --
With my bow and arrow
22 36 25 49 11 38 12 23 33-42
I killed Cock Robin
33 12 33 21 22 5 21 16-95

(The first stanza was measured in the Harvard Laboratory. The
last is modified from Scripture's measurements of the
gramophone record (1899). As the scansion of the last is in
doubt with Scripture, no totals of feet are given.)

In the cases given in the above table there is an irregularity quite
impossible to music.

In the movement cycle of the simple sounds there is a perfect
uniformity of the movements of the positive and negative sets of
muscles from unit group to unit group. But in verse, the movements of
the motor apparatus are very complicated. Certain combinations require
more time for execution; but if this variation in the details of the
movement does not break the series of motor cues, or so delay the
movements as to produce a feeling of strain, the unit groups are felt
to be alike. We have no means of judging their temporal _equality_,
even if we cared to judge of it. It is a mistake, however, to say that
time relations ('quantity') play no part in modern verse, for the
phases of the movement cycle have certain duration relations which can
be varied only within limits.

Extreme caution is necessary in drawing conclusions as to the nature
of verse from work with scanned nonsense syllables or with mechanical
clicks. It is safe to say that verse is rhythmic, and, if rhythm
depends on a certain regularity of movements, that verse will show
such movements. It will of course use the widest variation possible in
the matter of accents, lags, dynamic forms, and lengths of sonant and
element depending on emphasis. The character of the verse as it
appears on the page may not be the character of the verse as it is
actually read. The verses may be arbitrarily united or divided. But in
any simple, rhythmic series, like verse, it seems inevitable that
there shall be a pause at the end of the real verse, unless some such
device as rhyme is used for the larger phrasing.

There is a variety of repetitions in poetry. There may be a vague,
haunting recurrence of a word or phrase, without a definite or
symmetrical place in the structure.

Repetition at once attracts attention and tends to become a structural
element because of its vividness in the total effect. There are two
ways in which it may enter into the rhythmic structure. It may become
a well-defined refrain, usually of more than one word, repeated at
intervals and giving a sense of recognition and possibly of
completeness, or it may be so correlated that the verses are bound
together and occur in groups or pairs. Rhyme is a highly specialized
form of such recurrence.

The introduction of rhyme into verse must affect the verse in two
directions.

It makes one element in the time values, viz., the verse pause, much
more flexible and favors 'run on' form of verses; it is an important
factor in building larger unities; it correlates verses, and
contributes definite 'Gestaltqualitaeten' which make possible the
recognition of structure and the control of the larger movements which
determine this structure. Thus it gives plasticity and variety to the
verse.

On the other hand, it limits the verse form in several directions. The
general dynamic relations and the individual accents must conform to
the types possible with rhyme. The expressional changes of pitch,
which constitute the 'melody,' or the 'inflections' of the sentences,
play an important part. The dynamic and melodic phases of spoken verse
which have important relations to the rhyme are not determined by the
mere words. The verses may scan faultlessly, the lines may read
smoothly and be without harsh and difficult combinations, and yet the
total rhythmic effect may be indifferent or unpleasant. When a critic
dilates on his infallible detection of an indefinable somewhat,
independent of material aspects of the verse and traceable to a mystic
charm of 'thought,' it may very well be that the unanalyzed thing lies
in just such dynamic and melodic conditions of rhythm and rhyme.

The most primitive characteristic of music is the _ensemble_. Savage
music is often little else than time-keeping. When the social
consciousness would express itself in speech or movement in unison,
some sort of automatic regulation is necessary. This is the beginning
of music. The free reading of verse easily passes over into singing or
chanting. When this happens, the thing most noticeable in the new form
is its regulated, automatic and somewhat rigid character. It is
stereotyped throughout. Not only are the intervals and accents fixed,
but the pitch and quality changes are now definite, sustained and
recurrent. The whole sum of the motor processes of utterance has
become cooerdinated and regulated. Along with this precision of all the
movements comes a tendency to beat a new rhythm. This accompanying
rhythm is simpler and broader in character; it is a kind of long swell
on which the speech movements ripple. This second rhythm may express
itself in a new movement of hand, head, foot or body; when it has
become more conscious, as in patting time to a dance or chant, it
develops complicated forms, and a third rhythm may appear beside it,
to mark the main stresses of the two processes. The negro patting time
for a dance beats the third fundamental rhythm with his foot, while
his hands pat an elaborate second rhythm to the primary rhythm of the
dancers.

The essential character of musical rhythm, as contrasted with the
rhythm of both simple sounds and of verse, is just this cooerdination
of a number of rhythms which move side by side. This is the reason for
the immense complexity and variety of musical rhythms. The processes
check each other and furnish a basis for a precision and elaborateness
of rhythmical movement in the individual parts which is quite
impossible in a simple rhythm.

Even when the concomitant rhythms are not expressed, as in an
unaccompanied solo, an accompaniment of some sort is present in the
motor apparatus, and contributes its effect to the consciousness. This
regulation of the movement by the coincidence of several rhythms is
the cause of the striking regularity of the temporal relations. At
some points in the musical series the several movement cycles may
appear in the same phase, and at these points the same irregularities
as in verse are possible, as in the case of pauses at the ends of
periods and the irregularities of phrasing. It is evident in cases of
expressional variations of tempo that a single broad rhythm is
dominating and serving as a cue for the other more elaborate rhythmic
processes, instead of being regulated by them.

* * * * *

STUDIES IN SYMMETRY.[1]

BY ETHEL D. PUFFER.

[1] SOURCES OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Fig. 1 was copied from Reiss u. Stuebel, 'Todtenfeld v. Ancou,'
Berlin, 1880-1887.

Figs. 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 and 11 were copied from the
publications of the American Bureau of Ethnology by the kind
permission of the Direction.

Fig. 9. was copied from A.C. Haddon, 'The Decorative Art of
British New Guinea,' Cunningham Memoir, N., Royal Irish
Academy, 1894.

Fig. 10 was copied from Franz Boas, 'The Decorative Art of the
Indians of the North Pacific Coast,' Bulletin of the Am. Mus.
of Nat. Hist., Vol. IX.

I. THE PROBLEMS OF SYMMETRY.

The problem of aesthetic satisfaction in symmetrical forms is easily
linked with the well-known theory of 'sympathetic reproduction.' If
there exists an instinctive tendency to imitate visual forms by motor
impulses, the impulses suggested by the symmetrical form would seem to
be especially in harmony with the system of energies in our bilateral
organism, and this harmony may be the basis of our pleasure. But we
should then expect that all space arrangements which deviate from
complete symmetry, and thus suggest motor impulses which do not
correspond to the natural bilateral type would fail to give aesthetic
pleasure. Such, however, is not the case. Non-symmetrical arrangements
of space are often extremely pleasing.

This contradiction disappears if we are able to show that the
apparently non-symmetrical arrangement contains a hidden symmetry, and
that all the elements of that arrangement contribute to bring about
just that bilateral type of motor impulses which is characteristic of
geometrical symmetry. The question whether or not this is the fact
makes the leading problem of this paper, and the answer to it must
throw light on the value of the theory itself.

An exhaustive treatment of our question would thus divide itself into
two parts; the first dealing with real (or geometrical) symmetry, the
second with apparent asymmetry; the first seeking to show that there
is a real aesthetic pleasure in geometrical symmetry, and that this
pleasure is indeed based on the harmony of the motor impulses
suggested by symmetry, with the natural motor impulses of the human
organism; the second seeking to show in what manner aesthetically
pleasing but asymmetrical arrangements conform to the same principles.
Within these two groups of problems two general types of investigation
are seen to be required; experiment, and the analysis of aesthetic
objects.

The main question, as stated above, is of course whether the theory
can explain our pleasure in arrangements which are completely or
partly symmetrical. It is, however, an indispensible preliminary to
this question, to decide whether the pleasure in symmetrical
arrangements of space is indeed immediate and original. If it were
shown to be a satisfaction of expectation, bred partly from the
observation of symmetrical forms in nature, partly from the greater
convenience of symmetrical objects in daily use, the whole question of
a psychophysical explanation would have no point. If no original
aesthetic pleasure is felt, the problem would be transformed to a
demand for the explanation of the various ways in which practical
satisfaction is given by symmetrical objects and arrangements. The
logical order, then, for our investigation would be: First, the
appearance of symmetry in the productions of primitive life, as a
(debatable) aesthetic phenomenon emerging from pre-aesthetic conditions;
secondly, the experimental study of real symmetry; thirdly, the
analysis of geometrical symmetry in art, especially in painting and
architecture, by means of which the results of the preceding studies
could be checked and confirmed. Having once established a theory of
the aesthetic significance of real symmetry, we should next have to
examine asymmetrical, beautiful objects with reference to the relation
of their parts to a middle line; to isolate the elements which suggest
motor impulses; to find out how far it is possible to establish a
system of substitution of these psychological factors and how far such
substitution takes place in works of art--_i.e._, to what extent a
substitutional symmetry or balance is found in pleasing arrangements.
These investigations, again, would fall into the two groups of
experiment and analysis. The products of civilized art are too
complicated to admit of the complete analysis and isolation of
elements necessary to establish such a system of substitution of
psychological factors as we seek. From suggestions, however, obtained
from pleasing asymmetrical arrangements, first, isolated elements may
be treated experimentally, and secondly, the results checked and
confirmed by works of art.

With regard to the study of objects without a natural or suggested
middle line, as for instance sculpture, many types of architecture,
landscapes, gardens, room-arrangements, etc., we may fitly consider it
as a corollary to the study of asymmetrical objects with artificial
limits which do suggest a middle. If we find, by the study of them,
that a system of substitution of psychological factors does obtain,
the whole field can be covered by the theory already propounded, and
its application extended to the minutest details. The hypothesis,
having been so far confirmed, may be then easily applied to the field
of asymmetrical objects without a natural middle line.

The set of problems here suggested to the student of symmetry will not
be fully followed out in this paper. The experimental treatment of
geometrical symmetry, the analysis of the completely symmetrical
products of civilized art, and the analysis of all forms of asymmetry
except asymmetry in pictures will be omitted. If, however, the fact of
an original aesthetic feeling for symmetry is established by the study
of primitive art, and the theory of the balance of motor impulses
through the substitution of factors is established by the experimental
treatment of isolated elements, and further confirmed by the analysis
of pictures, the general argument may be taken as sufficiently
supported. This paper, then, will contain three sections: an
introductory one on symmetry in primitive art, and two main sections,
one on experiments in substitutional symmetry, and one on
substitutional symmetry or balance in pictures.

II. SYMMETRY IN PRIMITIVE ART.

The question which this section will attempt to answer is this: Is
there in primitive art an original and immediate aesthetic feeling for
symmetry? This question depends on two others which must precede it:
To what extent does symmetry actually appear in primitive art? and,
How far must its presence be accounted for by other than aesthetic
demands?

For the purpose of this inquiry the word _primitive_ may be taken
broadly as applying to the products of savage and half-savage peoples
of to-day, as well as to those of prehistoric races. The expression
_primitive art_, also, requires a word of explanation. The primitive
man seldom makes purely ornamental objects, but, on the other hand,
most of his articles of daily use have an ornamental character. We
have to consider primitive art, therefore, as represented in the form
and ornamentation of all these objects, constituting practically an
household inventory, with the addition of certain drawings and
paintings which do not appear to serve a definite practical end. These
last, however, constitute only a small proportion of the material.

The method of the following outline treatment will be to deduct from
the object under consideration those symmetrical elements which seem
to be directly traceable to non-aesthetic influences; such elements as
are not thus to be accounted for must be taken as evidence of a direct
pleasure in, and desire for symmetry on the part of primitive man.
These possible non-aesthetic influences may be provisionally suggested
to be the technical conditions of construction, the greater
convenience and hence desirability of symmetrical objects for
practical use, and the symmetrical character of natural forms which
were imitated.

The first great group of objects is given in primitive architecture.
Here is found almost complete unanimity of design, the conical,
hemispherical or beehive form being well-nigh universal. The hut of
the Hottentots, a cattle-herding, half-nomadic people, is a good type
of this. A circle of flexible staves is stuck into the ground, bent
together and fastened at the top, and covered with skins. But this is
the form of shelter constructed with the greatest ease, suitable to
the demands of elastic materials, boughs, twigs, reeds, etc., and
giving the greatest amount of space with the least material. There
are, indeed, a few examples of the rectangular form of dwelling among
various primitive races, but these seem to be more or less open to
explanation by the theory advanced by Mr. V. Mendeleff, of the U.S.
Bureau of Ethnology. "In his opinion the rectangular form of
architecture which succeeds the type under discussion, must have
resulted from the circular form by the bringing together within a
limited area of many houses.... This partition would naturally be
built straight as a two-fold measure of economy."[2] This opinion is
confirmed by Mr. Cushing's observations among the Zuni villages, where
the pueblos have circular forms on the outskirts. Thus the shape of
the typical primitive dwelling is seen to be fully accounted for as
the product of practical considerations alone. It may therefore be
dismissed as offering no especial points of interest for this inquiry.

[2] Cushing, F.H.: 'Pueblo Pottery and Zuni Culture-growth,'
Rep. of Bur. of Ethnol., 1882-3, p. 473.

Next in the order of primitive development are the arts of binding and
weaving. The stone axe or arrow-head, for example, was bound to a
wooden staff, and had to be lashed with perfect evenness,[3] and when
in time the material and method of fastening changed, the geometrical
forms of this careful binding continued to be engraved at the juncture
of blade and handle of various implements. It should be noted,
however, that these binding-patterns, in spite of their superfluous
character, remained symmetrical.

[3] Haddon, A.C.: 'Evolution in Art,' London, 1895, pp. 84 ff.

On the great topic of symmetry in weaving, monographs could be
written. Here it is sufficient to recall[4] that the absolutely
necessary technique of weaving in all its various forms of
interlacing, plaiting, netting, embroidering, etc., implies order,
uniformity, and symmetry. The chance introduction of a thread or withe
of a different color, brings out at once an ordered pattern in the
result; the crowding together or pressing apart of elements, a
different alternation of the woof, a change in the order of
intersection, all introduce changes by the natural necessities of
construction which have the effect of purpose. So far, then, as the
simple weaving is concerned, the aesthetic demand for symmetry may be
discounted. While it may be operative, the forms can be explained by
the necessities of construction, and we have no right to assume an
aesthetic motive.

[4] Holmes, W.H.: 'Textile Art in its Relation to the
Development of Form and Ornament,' Rep. of Bur. of Ethnol.,
1884-5, p. 195.

The treatment of human and animal forms in weaving is, however,
indicative of a direct pleasure in symmetry. The human form appears
almost exclusively (much schematized) _en face_. When in profile, as
for instance in Mexican and South American work, it is doubled--that
is, two figures are seen face to face. Animal figures, on the other
hand, are much used as row-ornaments in profile.[5] It would seem that
only the linear conception of the row or band with its suggestions of
movement in one direction, justified the use of profile (_e.g._, in
Peruvian woven stuffs), since it is almost always seen under those
conditions, indicating that a limited rectangular space is felt as
satisfactorily filled only by a symmetrical figure.[6] Moreover, and
still more confirmatory of this theory, even these row-pattern
profiles are immensely distorted toward symmetry, and every
'degradation' of form, to use Professor Haddon's term, is in the
direction of symmetry. (See Fig. 1.)

[5] Reiss, W., und Stubel, A.: 'Todtenfeld von Ancon,' Berlin,
1880-7, Bd. II.

[6] Hein, W.: 'Die Verwendung der Menschen-Gestalt in
Flechtwerken,' Mitteil. d. Anthrop. Gesellsch. in Wien, Bd.
XXI.

[Illustration: Fig. 1.]

The shape of primitive pottery is conditioned by the following
influences: The shapes of utensils preceding clay, such as skins,
gourds, shells, etc., which have been imitated, the forms of basket
models, and the conditions of construction (formation by the hands).
For all these reasons, most of these shapes are circular. The only (in
the strict sense) symmetrical shapes found are of unmistakably animal
origin, and it is interesting to notice the gradual return of these to
the eurhythmic form; puma, bird, frog, etc., gradually changing into
head, tail and leg excrescences, and then handles and nodes
(rectangular panels), upon a round bowl or jar L, as shown in the
figures. In fact, in ancient American pottery,[7] at least, all the
symmetrical ornamentations can be traced to the opposition of head and
tail, and the sides between them, of these animal forms. But beyond
this there is no degradation of the broad outline of the design. The
head and tail, and sides, become respectively handles and nodes--but
the symmetry becomes only more and more emphasized. And as in the case
of textiles, the ornaments of the rectangular spaces given by the
nodes are strikingly symmetrical. Many of these are from animal
motives, and nearly always heads are turned back over the body, tails
exaggerated, or either or both doubled, to get a symmetrical effect.
Although much of the symmetrical ornament, again, is manifestly from
textile models, its symmetrical character is so carefully preserved
against the suggestions of the circular form that a direct pleasure in
its symmetry may be inferred. (See Figs. 2-7.)