旅行的艺术:Ⅷ 对美的拥有-6

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我们可能从绘画中获得的另一个好处是：我们可以对某些风景和建筑吸引我们的深层原因有一种清醒了解。我们为自己的品位找到了解释，我们培养了一种“审美能力”，一种对美和丑进行判断的能力。我们更加确切地知道一座建筑物所缺乏的什么，而这也是我们不喜欢它的理由；同时我们也可了解我们赞叹的建筑之美缘何而起。我们更快地分析一种令我们感动的景色，并且明确指出它令我们感动的力量从何而来（“石灰岩和夕阳的结合”，或是“树枝越近河边越稀”）。我们从一种麻木的“我喜欢这个”转变为“我喜欢这个，因为……”，最后也能归结出自己喜欢的特点。即使我们只是在做着试验和尝试，关于美的法则也会进入脑中：光从旁边照向物体会比从顶部照射下来更好；灰色与绿色搭配很好；一条街要给人以空间感，建筑物的高度不能超过街道的宽度。

Another benefit we may derive from drawing is a conscious understanding of the reasons behind our attraction to certain landscapes and buildings. We find explanations for our tastes, we develop an 'aesthetic', a capacity to assert judgements about beauty and ugliness. We determine with greater precision what is missing in a building we don't like and what contributes to the beauty of the one we do. We more quickly analyse a scene that impresses us and pin down whence its power arises ('the combination of limestone and evening sun', 'the way the trees taper down to the river'). We move from a numb 'I like this' to 'I like this because … ', and then in turn towards a generalization about the likeable. Even if they are only held in exploratory, tentative ways, laws of beauty come to mind: it is better for light to strike objects from the side than from overhead; grey goes well with green; for a street to convey a sense of space, the buildings must only be as high as the street is wide.

有了这种清晰的了解，更加牢固的记忆方可形成。这样一来就再无必要将我们的名字刻在庞培石柱上了。用罗斯金的话说，绘画使我们得以“定住即将消逝的云彩、颤抖的叶子及变幻的阴影”。

And on the basis of this conscious awareness, more solid memories can be founded. Carving our name on Pompey's Pillar begins to seem unnecessary. Drawing allows us, in Ruskin's account, 'to stay the cloud in its fading, the leaf in its trembling, and the shadows in their changing'.

总结在四年的教学及编写绘画手册的时间里他所尝试做的事情，罗斯金解释说，他被一种渴望所驱使，这种渴望是“指引人们在物质世界中，把注意力精确地放置于上帝的作品所展现出来的美丽”。或许有必要引述罗斯金的一篇文字，文章中罗斯金明确指出，在一个具体的层面上，这种听上去有些奇怪的野心究竟可能包括什么：“让两个人外出散步；一个是优秀的素描家，另一个则对这类东西毫无喜好。他们顺着一条林阴道往前走时，对这片景色的感受会有着很大的区别。一个将看到一条小路和树木；他会认为树是绿色的，但是他不会对此作任何的思考；他会看到阳光闪耀，并觉得很舒服，仅此而已！但是素描家会看到什么？他的眼睛习惯去探求美的原因，美的最细微的部分。他抬头向上看，观察阵雨般散射的道道阳光是如何从头顶闪烁的树叶间洒落下来，直到林间充满翠绿的光。他会这里看看，那里看看，一条树枝从树叶的遮蔽中伸出来，他会看到翠绿色的苔藓散发的宝石般的光芒，还会看到色彩斑斓的地衣，白色和蓝色，紫色和红色都交织、混合在一起，织成一片鲜艳夺目的锦缎。接着（他会看到）凸凹不平的树干和扭曲的树根，树根在陡峭的河岸像蛇一样地延伸开去，而岸边铺着草皮的斜坡，被有着千万种颜色的花朵镶嵌。这难道不值得细细品味吗？然而，如果你不会素描，你只会经过这条绿色的小路，当你再次回到家时，你不会觉得有什么值得一提或回味再三，你仅仅是走过了一条这样的小路。”

Summing up what he had attempted to do in four years of teaching and writing manuals on drawing, Ruskin explained that he had been motivated by a desire to 'direct people's attention accurately to the beauty of God's work in the material universe'. It may be worth quoting in full a passage in which Ruskin demonstrated what exactly, at a concrete level, this strange-sounding ambition might involve: 'Let two persons go out for a walk; the one a good sketcher, the other having no taste of the kind. Let them go down a green lane. There will be a great difference in the scene as perceived by the two individuals. The one will see a lane and trees; he will perceive the trees to be green, though he will think nothing about it; he will see that the sun shines, and that it has a cheerful effect; and that's all！ But what will the sketcher see? His eye is accustomed to search into the cause of beauty, and penetrate the minutest parts of loveliness. He looks up, and observes how the showery and subdivided sunshine comes sprinkled down among the gleaming leaves overhead, till the air is filled with the emerald light. He will see here and there a bough emerging from the veil of leaves, he will see the jewel brightness of the emerald moss and the variegated and fantastic lichens, white and blue, purple and red, all mellowed and mingled into a single garment of beauty. Then come the cavernous trunks and the twisted roots that grasp with their snake-like coils at the steep bank, whose turfy slope is inlaid with flowers of a thousand dyes. Is not this worth seeing? Yet if you are not a sketcher you will pass along the green lane, and when you come home again, have nothing to say or to think about it, but that you went down such and such a lane.'

罗斯金：《光滑的梭子蟹》，1870—1871年