i8 



HORSES AND MOVEMENT 



Movement is primarily perceived as direction. Picture 

 to yourself a wet day, and instinctively you will represent 

 the falling rain as making lines across the landscape. 

 In an instantaneous photograph of such a scene the fore- 

 ground raindrops, if sufficiently distinct, would be shown 

 as separate drops dotted about upon it. Which is the 

 more satisfactory representation ? Which gives the 

 " truth " ? Which brings about in the mind of the spec- 

 tator the necessary optical condition ? The answer is 

 without doubt : and it is an answer endorsed by the 

 cinematograph, which would be unable to show us move- 

 ment if it did not restore such generalized impressions 

 which are not to be found in its separate photographs. 



The lines of falling rain illustrate a principle that 

 affects all our perception of movement. If we return 

 for a moment to the definition of our perception of move- 

 ment as a perception of change — of change of position 

 (change of shape is merely change of position of com- 

 ponent parts) — we shall agree, I think, that there can 

 be no impression of movement which does not imply 

 a perception of its direction. And direction can be best 

 expressed diagrammatically by a line or lines. What, 

 in fact, are the lines oi falling rain but nature's dia- 

 grams, the paths of the raindrops traced by faint images 

 of themselves ? 



But there is something more involved than mere 

 movement and direction. Whatever instances we take — 

 the curves of a swallow's flight, the appearance of a circle 

 created by a thing whirled rapidly about a centre, the 

 undulations of the coursing greyhound, the movements 

 of a group of dancers, the effort of a cart-horse — we find 

 in each of them the same principle, that all movement is 

 not only perceived more or less distinctly by its lines of 

 direction, but also nearly always gives rise to rhythm. 



Consequently if the artist is to create in the mind 

 of the observer the desired optical condition he must 

 succeed in reviving and conveying to him his impressions 

 of the original rhythm. Throughout all art it is to be 

 observed that motion is in fact expressed in this way, 

 through the designing of patterns such that the eye of 

 the spectator will travel across them slowly or rapidly, 

 regularly or variably, continuously or interruptedly, as 

 the artist intends, and as he feels the expression of the 

 particular effect or emotion requires. 



Such patterns can be so irregular and so interrupted 

 that it may seem, hardly fair to call them rhythmic. 

 But I think we may again turn to music for comparison. 

 For in music the movement of a piece may also be so 

 irregular and interrupted that the word rhythmic is 

 hardly to be applied to it. Yet in both cases if there is 



