alterations in each individual form, down to the very smallest.
Every form is as sensitive as a puff of smoke, the slightest
breath will alter it completely. This extreme mobility makes it
easier to obtain similar harmonies from the use of different
forms, than from a repetition of the same one; though of course
an exact replica of a spiritual harmony can never be produced. So
long as we are susceptible only to the appeal of a whole
composition, this fact is of mainly theoretical importance. But
when we become more sensitive by a constant use of abstract forms
(which have no material interpretation) it will become of great
practical significance. And so as art becomes more difficult, its
wealth of expression in form becomes greater and greater. At the
same time the question of distortion in drawing falls out and is
replaced by the question how far the inner appeal of the
particular form is veiled or given full expression. And once more
the possibilities are extended, for combinations of veiled and
fully expressed appeals suggest new LEITMOTIVEN in composition.

Without such development as this, form-composition is impossible.
To anyone who cannot experience the inner appeal of form (whether
material or abstract) such composition can never be other than
meaningless. Apparently aimless alterations in form-arrangement
will make art seem merely a game. So once more we are faced with
the same principle, which is to set art free, the principle of
the inner need.

When features or limbs for artistic reasons are changed or
distorted, men reject the artistic problem and fall back on the
secondary question of anatomy. But, on our argument, this
secondary consideration does not appear, only the real, artistic