Sense, Form, Portrait of Madame Devaucay, and Friedrich Schiller

John Armstrong:

"...Schiller thinks of human nature as an arena in which two powerful psychological drives are at work. On the one hand, there is the ‘sense’ drive which lives in the moment and seeks immediate gratification. It craves contact and possession. It can be coarse, as when one yearns to swig great draughts of beer; but it can also be elevated. Schiller associated the sense drive with his friend Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, who longed to see things with his own eyes. Goethe was a direct observer, a natural empiricist who immersed himself in practical detail.

The second drive identified by Schiller was the ‘form’ drive: the inner demand for coherence over time, for abstract understanding and rational order. This drive, thought Schiller, seeks to leave behind the peculiarities of one’s own experience and discover universal principles. It is at the heart of justice – which is not about getting what you want for yourself – and is animated by principle. When we think that a person is entitled to a fair trial, we are motivated, Schiller says, by the rational ‘form’ drive. We are loyal to the abstract, general ideal of due process.

What he’s calling the sense drive and the form drive are powerful impulses in us. But they are often in conflict. The demands of the short term are at odds with the hopes of the longer view. Comfort and ease struggle against a sense of duty and responsibility. The allure of freedom clashes with the longing to be steadfast and rooted in existing commitments.

Schiller’s point is that human nature is fired by two divergent kinds of longing: we can’t hope to see why beauty matters to us unless we pay attention to them both. If we want to understand beauty, we can’t just talk about the things we find beautiful. We have to talk about our lives..."

Portrait of Madame Devaucay by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, 1807. Musée Condé, Chantilly. Photo by Getty

JA:

"...The portrait of Madame Devaucay, painted by Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres in Rome in 1807, exemplifies his ideal. In one sense, the portrait is highly organised. Each detail has been manipulated so that it fits with every other. The rounded back of the chair is calculated to take the eye to her mouth, but it also balances the curve of her draped arm. The point of her chin is exactly halfway between the top of her head and the neckline of her gown. Nothing is left to chance. A hugely determined will to order dominates the image, meaning that the form drive is at full stretch. And this clarity and organisation appear to belong to the sitter as well. She seems calm, lucid and intellectually elegant.

Equally, however, the sense drive is given free rein. She appears merely to be sitting in her natural way, as we might encounter her by chance in the corner of a salon. Maybe in a moment she will laugh or adjust her necklace. For all her finery, she looks as if she would be warm and understanding – the perfect person with whom to discuss one’s troubles. The beauty of the painting is the way it calls simultaneously to our need for control and our longing for tenderness and intimacy.

It’s not a problem for Schiller if someone happens not to be moved by the particular examples that excite him. What matters is that something does, and that something is what we call beautiful.  This explains why beauty can be so moving – why it can make us weep. When we recognise beauty in a piece of music, or the graciousness of someone’s conduct, we see things that we know we have neglected or betrayed, and we feel an astonishing combination of anguish and delight...."