nal moving is
what does not appear in the copy. But why is it impossible to make an
absolutely exact copy? The explanation seems to be that the actual lines
and colours and spaces in a work of art are caused by something in the
mind of the artist which is not present in the mind of the imitator. The
hand not only obeys the mind, it is impotent to make lines and colours
in a particular way without the direction of a particular state of mind.
The two visible objects, the original and the copy, differ because that
which ordered the work of art does not preside at the manufacture of the
copy. That which orders the work of art is, I suggest, the emotion which
empowers artists to create significant form. The good copy, the copy
that moves us, is always the work of one who is possessed by this
mysterious emotion. Good copies are never attempts at exact imitation;
on examination we find always enormous differences between them and
their originals: they are the work of men or women who do not copy but
can translate the art of others into their own language. The power of
creating significant form depends, not on hawklike vision, but on some
curious mental and emotional power. Even to copy a picture one needs,
not to see as a trained observer, but to feel as an artist. To make the
spectator feel, it seems that the creator must feel too. What is this
that imitated forms lack and created forms possess? What is this
mysterious thing that dominates the artist in the creation of forms?
What is it that lurks behind forms and seems to be conveyed by them to
us? What is it that distinguishes the creator from the copyist? What can
it be but emotion? Is it not because the artist's forms express a
particular kind of emotion that they are significant?--because they fit
and envelop it, that they are coherent?--because they communicate it,
that they exalt us to ecstasy?

One word of warning is necessary. Let no one imagine that the expression
of emotion is the outward and visible sign of a work of art. The
characteristic of a work of art is its power of provoking aesthetic
emotion; the expression of emotion is possibly what gives it that power.
It is useless to go to a picture gallery in search of expression; you
must go in search of significant form. When you have been moved by form,
you may begin to consider what makes it moving. If my theory be correct,
rightness of form is invariably a consequence of rightness of emotion.
Right form, I sugg