ELEMENTARY ILLUSTRATION.
The first object of an illustration, the practical part, is obviously,
_to illustrate and elucidate the text_--a matter often lost sight of.
The second is to be artistic, and includes works of the imagination,
decoration, ornament, style. In this chapter we shall consider the
first, the practical part.
Nearly twenty years ago, at a meeting of the Society of Arts in London,
the general question was discussed, whether in the matter of
illustrating books and newspapers we are really keeping pace with the
times; whether those whose business it is to provide the illustrations
which are tossed from steam presses at the rate of several thousand
copies an hour, are doing the best work they can.
In illustrated newspapers, it was argued, "there should be a clearer
distinction between fact and fiction, between news and pictures." The
exact words may be thought worth repeating now.[3]
"In the production of illustrations we have arrived at great
proficiency, and from London are issued the best illustrated
newspapers in the world. But our artistic skill has led us into
temptation, and by degrees engendered a habit of making pictures when
we ought to be recording facts. We have thus, through our cleverness,
created a fashion and a demand from the public for something which is
often elaborately untrue.
Would it, then, be too much to ask those who cater for (and really
create) the public taste, that they should give us one of two things,
or rather _two things_, in our illustrated papers, the real and the
ideal--
1st. Pictorial records of events in the simplest and truest manner
possible;
2nd. Pictures of the highest class that can be printed in a newspaper?
Here are two methods of illustration which only require to be kept
distinct, each in its proper place, and our interest in them would be
doubled. We ask first for a record of news and then for a picture
gallery; and to know, to use a common phrase, _which is which_."
At the time referred to, drawing on the wood-block and engraving were
almost universal--instantaneous photography was in its infancy, "process
blocks," that is to say, mechanical engraving, was very seldom employed,
and (for popular purposes) American engraving and printing was
considered the best.
The system of producing illustrations in direct fac-simile of an artist's
drawing, suitable for printing at a type press without the aid of the
wood engraver, is of such value for cheap and simple forms of
illustration, and is, moreover, in such constant use, that it seems
wonderful at first sight that it should not be better understood in
England. But the cause is not far to seek. We have not yet acquired the
art of pictorial expression in black and white, nor do many of our
artists excel in "illustration" in the true sense of the word.
It has often been pointed out that through the pictorial system the mind
receives impressions with the least effort and in the quickest way, and
that the graphic method is the true way of imparting knowledge. Are we
then, in the matter of giving information or in imparting knowledge
through the medium of illustrations, adopting the truest and simplest
methods? I venture to say that in the majority of cases we are doing
nothing of the kind. We have pictures in abundance which delight the
eye, which are artistically drawn and skilfully engraved, but in which,
in nine cases out of ten, there is more thought given to effect as a
picture than to illustrating the text.
It has often been suggested that the art of printing is, after all, but
a questionable blessing on account of the error and the evil
disseminated by it. Without going into that question, I think that we
may find that the art of printing with movable type has led to some
neglect of the art of expressing ourselves pictorially, and that the
apparently inexorable necessity of running every word and thought into
uniform lines, has cramped and limited our powers of expression, and of
communicating ideas to each other.
Let us begin at the lowest step of the artistic ladder, and consider
some forms of illustration which are within the reach of nearly every
writer for the press. With the means now at command for reproducing any
lines drawn or written, in perfect fac-simile, mounted on square blocks
to range with the type, and giving little or no trouble to the printer,
there is no question that we should more frequently see the hand work of
the writer as well as of the artist appearing on the page. For example:
it happens sometimes in a work of fiction, or in the record of some
accident or event, that it is important to the clear understanding of
the text, to know the exact position of a house, say at a street corner,
and also (as in the case of a late trial for arson) which way the wind
blew on a particular evening. Words are powerless to explain the
position beyond the possibility of doubt or misconstruction; and yet
words are, and have been, used for such purposes for hundreds of years,
because it is "the custom."
[Illustration]
But if it were made plain that where words fail to express a meaning
easily, a few lines, such as those above, drawn in ink on ordinary
paper, may be substituted (and, if sent to the printer with the
manuscript, will appear in fac-simile on the proof with the printed
page), I think a new light may dawn on many minds, and new methods of
expression come into vogue.
This illustration (which was written on the sheet of MS.) is one
example, out of a hundred that might be given, where a diagram should
come to the aid of the verbal description, now that the reproduction of
lines for the press is no longer costly, and the blocks can be printed,
if necessary, on rapidly revolving cylinders, which (by duplicating) can
produce in a night 100,000 copies of a newspaper.
Before exploring some of the possibilities of illustration, it may be
interesting to glance at what has been done in this direction since the
invention of producing blocks rapidly to print at the type press and the
improvements in machinery.
In the spring of 1873 a Canadian company started a daily illustrated
evening newspaper in New York, called _The Daily Graphic_, which was to
eclipse all previous publications by the rapidity and excellence of its
illustrations. It started with an attempt to give a daily record of
news, and its conductors made every effort to bring about a system of
rapid sketching and drawing in line. But the public of New York in 1873
(as of London, apparently, in 1893) cared more for "pictures," and so by
degrees the paper degenerated into a picture-sheet, reproducing (without
leave) engravings from the _Illustrated London News_, the _Graphic_,
and other papers, as they arrived from England. The paper was
lithographed, and survived until 1889.
The report of the first year's working of the first daily illustrated
newspaper in the world is worth recording. The proprietors stated that
although the paper was started "in a year of great financial depression,
they have abundant reason to be satisfied with their success," and
further, that they attribute it to "an absence of all sensational
news."(!)
The report ended with the following interesting paragraph:
"Pictorial records of crime, executions, scenes involving misery, and
the more unwholesome phases of social life, are a positive detriment
to a daily illustrated newspaper. In fact, the higher the tone and the
better the taste appealed to, the larger we have found our circulation
to be."
The great art, it would seem, of conducting a daily illustrated
newspaper is to know _what to leave out_--when, in fact, to have no
illustrations at all!
In England the first systematic attempt at illustration in a daily
newspaper was the insertion of a little map or weather chart in the
_Times_ in 1875, and the _Pall Mall Gazette_ followed suit with a dial
showing the direction of the wind, and afterwards with other explanatory
diagrams and sketches.
But, in June, 1875, the _Times_ and all other newspapers in England were
far distanced by the _New York Tribune_ in reporting the result of a
shooting match in Dublin between an American Rifle Corps and some of our
volunteers. On the morning after the contest there were long verbal
reports in the English papers, describing the shooting and the results;
but in the pages of the _New York Tribune_ there appeared a series of
targets with the shots of the successful competitors marked upon them,
communicated by telegraph and printed in the paper in America on the
following morning.[4]
After this period we seem to have moved slowly, only some very important
geographical discovery, or event, extorting from the daily newspapers an
explanatory plan or diagram. But during the "Transit of Venus," on the
6th of December, 1882, a gleam of light was vouchsafed to the readers of
the _Daily Telegraph_ (and possibly to other papers), and that exciting
astronomical event from which "mankind was to obtain a clearer
knowledge of the scale of the universe," was understood and remembered
better, by three or four lines in the form of a diagram (showing,
roughly, the track of Venus and its comparative size and distance from
the sun) printed in the newspaper on the day of the event.
Maps and plans have appeared from time to time in all the daily
newspapers, but not systematically, or their interest and usefulness
would have been much greater. Many instances might be given of the use
of diagrams in newspapers; a little dial showing the direction of the
wind, is obviously better than words and figures, but it is only lately
that printing difficulties have been overcome, and that the system can
be widely extended.
It remains to be seen how far the _Daily Graphic_, with experience and
capital at command, will aid in a system of illustration which is one
day to become general. Thus far it would seem that the production of a
large number of pictures (more or less _a-propos_) is the popular thing
to do. We may be excused if we are disappointed in the result from a
practical point of view; for as the functions of a daily newspaper are
_prima facie_ to record facts, it follows that if words fail to
communicate the right meaning, pictorial expression should come to the
aid of the verbal, no matter how crude or inartistic the result might
appear.
Let me give one or two examples, out of many which come to mind.
1. The transmission of form by telegraph. To realise the importance of
this system in conveying news, we have only to consider (going back
nearly forty years) what interest would have been added to Dr. Russell's
letters from the Crimea in the _Times_ newspaper, if it had been
considered possible, then, to have inserted, here and there, with the
type, a line or two pictorially giving (_e.g._) the outline of a
hillside, and the position of troops upon it. It _was_ possible to do
this in 1855, but it is much more feasible now. The transmission of form
by telegraph is of the utmost importance to journalists and scientific
men, and, as our electricians have not yet determined the best methods,
it may be interesting to point out the simplest and most rudimentary
means at hand. The method is well known in the army and is used for
field purposes, but hitherto newspapers have been strangely slow to
avail themselves of it. The diagram on the opposite page will explain a
system which is capable of much development with and without the aid of
photography.
If the reader will imagine this series of squares to represent a
portable piece of open trellis-work, which might be set up at a window
or in the open field, between the spectator and any object of interest
at a distance--each square representing a number corresponding with a
code in universal use--it will be obvious, that by noticing the squares
which the outline of a hill would cover, and _telegraphing the numbers
of the squares_, something in the way of form and outline may be quickly
communicated from the other side of the world.
[Illustration: CODE FOR TRANSMITTING FORM BY TELEGRAPH.]
This is for rough-and-ready use in time of war, when rapidity of
communication is of the first importance; but in time of peace a
correspondent's letter continually requires elucidation.
Next is an example, which, for want of better words, I will call "the
shorthand of pictorial art." A newspaper correspondent is in a boat on
one of the Italian lakes, and wishes to describe the scene on a calm
summer day. This is how he proceeds--
[Illustration]
"We are shut in by mountains," he says, "but the blue lake seems as wide
as the sea. On a rocky promontory on the left hand the trees grow down
to the water's edge and the banks are precipitous, indicating the great
depth of this part of the lake. The water is as smooth as glass; on its
surface is one vessel, a heavily-laden market boat with drooping sails,
floating slowly down" (and so on)--there is no need to repeat it all;
but when half a column of word-painting had been written (and
well-written) the correspondent failed to present the picture clearly to
the eye without these _four_ explanatory lines (no more) which should
of course have been sent with his letter.
This method of description requires certain aptitude and training; but
not much, not more than many a journalist could acquire for himself with
a little practice. The director of the _Daily Graphic_ is reported to
have said that "the ideal correspondent, who can sketch as well as
write, is not yet born." He takes perhaps a higher view of the artistic
functions of a daily newspaper than we should be disposed to grant him;
by "we" I mean, of course, "the public," expecting _news_ in the most
graphic manner. There are, and will be, many moments when we want
information, simply and solely, and care little how, or in what shape,
it comes.
This kind of information, given pictorially, has no pretension to be
artistic, but it is "illustration" in the true sense of the word, and
its value when rightly applied is great. When the alterations at Hyde
Park Corner (one of the most important of the London improvements of our
day) were first debated in Parliament, a daily newspaper, as if moved by
some sudden flash of intelligence, printed a ground-plan of the proposed
alterations with descriptive text; and once or twice only, during
Stanley's long absence in Africa, did we have sketches or plans printed
with the letters to elucidate the text, such as a sketch of the floating
islands with their weird inhabitants, at Stanley's Station on the Congo
river, which appeared in a daily newspaper--instances of news presented
to the reader in a better form than words. "The very thing that was
wanted!" was the general exclamation, as if there were some new
discovery of the powers of description.
As the war correspondent's occupation does not appear likely to cease in
our time, it would seem worth while to make sure that he is fully
equipped.
The method of writing employed by correspondents on the field of battle
seems unnecessarily clumsy and prolix; we hear of letters written
actually under fire, on a drum-head, or in the saddle, and on opening
the packet as it arrives by the post we may find, if we take the trouble
to measure it, that the point of the pen or pencil, has travelled over a
distance of a hundred feet! This is the actual ascertained measurement,
taking into account all the ups and downs, crosses and dashes, as it
arrives from abroad. No wonder the typewriter is resorted to in
journalism wherever possible.
A newspaper correspondent is sent suddenly to the seat of war, or is
stationed in some remote country to give the readers of a newspaper the
benefit of his observations. What is he doing in 1894? In the imperfect,
clumsy language which he possesses in common with every minister of
state and public schoolboy, he proceeds to describe what he sees in a
hundred lines, when with two or three strokes of the pen he might have
expressed his meaning better pictorially. I have used these words
before, but they apply with redoubled force at the present time. The
fact is, that with the means now at command for reproducing any lines
drawn or written, the correspondent is not thoroughly equipped if he
cannot send them as suggested, by telegraph or by letter. It is all a
matter of education, and the newspaper reporter of the future will not
be considered complete unless he is able to express himself, to some
extent, pictorially as well as verbally. Then, and not till then, will
our complicated language be rescued from many obscurities, by the aid of
lines other than verbal.[5]
In nearly every city, town, or place there is some feature,
architectural or natural, which gives character to it, and it would add
greatly to the interest of letters from abroad if they were headed with
a little outline sketch, or indication of the principal objects. This is
seldom done, because the art of looking at things, and the power of
putting them down simply in a few lines, has not been cultivated and is
not given to many.
Two things are principally necessary to attain this end--
[Illustration: A STUDY IN PERSPECTIVE. (HUME NISBET.)
A. Standpoint. B. Point of Sight. C. Horizontal line. D. Vanishing
lines. E. Point of distance. F. Vanishing lines of distance. G. Line
of sight.]
1. The education of hand and eye and a knowledge of perspective, to be
imparted to every schoolboy, no matter what his profession or occupation
is likely to be.
2. The education of the public to read aright this new language (new to
most people), the "shorthand of pictorial art."
The popular theory amongst editors and publishers is that the public
would not care for information presented to them in this way--that they
"would not understand it and would not buy it." Sketches of the kind
indicated have never been fairly tried in England; but they are
increasing in number every day, and the time is not far distant when we
shall look back upon the present system with considerable amusement and
on a book or a newspaper which is not illustrated as an incomplete
production. The number of illustrations produced and consumed daily in
the printing press is enormous; but they are too much of one pattern,
and, as a rule, too elaborate.
In the illustration of books of all kinds there should be a more general
use of diagrams and plans to elucidate the text. No new building of
importance should be described anywhere without an indication of the
elevation, if not also of the ground plan; and, as a rule, no picture
should be described without a sketch to indicate the composition. In
history words so often fail to give the correct _locale_ that it seems
wonderful we have no better method in common use. The following rough
plan will illustrate one of the simplest ways of making a description
clear to the reader. Take the verbal one first:--
"The young Bretonne stood under the doorway of the house, sheltered from
the rain which came with the soft west wind. From her point of vantage
on the 'Place' she commanded a view of the whole village, and could see
down the four streets of which it was principally composed."
[Illustration]
In this instance a writer was at some pains to describe (and failed to
describe in three pages) the exact position of the streets near where
the girl stood; and it was a situation in which photography could hardly
help him.
It may seem strange at first sight to occupy the pages of a book on art
with diagrams and elementary outlines, but it must be remembered that
plans and diagrams are at the basis of a system of illustration which
will one day become general. The reason, as already pointed out, for
drawing attention to the subject now, is that it is only lately that
systems have been perfected for reproducing lines on the printed page
almost as rapidly as setting up the type. Thus a new era, so to speak,
in the art of expressing ourselves pictorially as well as verbally has
commenced: the means of reproduction are to hand; the blocks can be
made, if necessary, in less than three hours, and copies can be printed
on revolving cylinders at the rate of 10,000 an hour.
The advance in scientific discovery by means of subtle instruments
brings the surgeon sometimes to the knowledge of facts which, in the
interests of science, he requires to demonstrate graphically, objects
which it would often be impossible to have photographed. With a
rudimentary knowledge of drawing and perspective, the surgeon and the
astronomer would both be better equipped. At the University of
Pennsylvania, in Philadelphia, where the majority of students are
intended for the medical profession, this subject is considered of high
importance, and the student in America is learning to express himself in
a language that can be understood.
In architecture it is often necessary, in order to understand the
description of a building, to indicate in a few lines not only the
general plan and elevation, but also its position in perspective in a
landscape or street. Few architects can do this if called upon at a
moment's notice in a Parliamentary committee room. And yet it is a
necessary part of the language of an architect.[6]
These remarks apply with great force to books of travel, where an author
should be able to take part in the drawing of his illustrations, at
least to the extent of being able to explain his meaning and ensure
topographical accuracy.
A curious experiment was made lately with some students in an Art
school, to prove the fallacy of the accepted system of describing
landscapes, buildings, and the like in words. A page or two from one of
the Waverley novels (a description of a castle and the heights of
mountainous land, with a river winding in the valley towards the sea,
and clusters of houses and trees on the right hand) was read slowly and
repeated before a number of students, three of whom, standing apart from
each other by pre-arrangement, proceeded to indicate on blackboards
before an audience the leading lines of the picture as the words had
presented it to their minds. It is needless to say that the results,
highly skilful in one case, were all different, and _all wrong_; and
that in particular the horizon line of the sea (so easy to indicate with
any clue, and so important to the composition) was hopelessly out of
place. Thus we describe day by day, and the pictures formed in the mind
are erroneous, for the imagination of the reader is at work at once, and
requires simple guidance. The exhibition was, I need hardly say, highly
stimulating and suggestive.
Many arguments might be used for the substitution of pictorial for
verbal methods of expression, which apply to books as well as
periodicals. Two may be mentioned of a purely topical kind.
1. In June, 1893, when the strife of political parties ran high in
England, and anything like a _rapprochement_ between their leaders
seemed impossible, Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Balfour were seen in apparently
friendly conversation behind the Speaker's chair in the House of
Commons. A newspaper reporter in one of the galleries, observing the
interesting situation, does not say in so many words, that "Mr. G. was
seen talking to Mr. B.," but makes, or has made for him, a sketch
(without caricature) of the two figures standing talking together, and
writes under it, "_Amenities behind the Speaker's chair_." Here it will
be seen that the subject is approached with more delicacy, and the
position indicated with greater force through the pictorial method.
2. The second modern instance of the power--the eloquence, so to speak,
of the pictorial method--appeared in the pages of _Punch_ on the
occasion of the visit of the Russian sailors to Paris in October, 1893.
A rollicking, dancing Russian bear, with the words "_Vive la Republique_"
wound round his head, hit the situation as no words could have done,
especially when exposed for sale in the kiosques of the Paris
boulevards. The picture required no translation into the languages of
Europe.
It may be said that there is nothing new here--that the political
cartoon is everywhere--that it has existed always, that it flourished in
Athens and Rome, that all history teems with it, that it comes down to
us on English soil through Gillray, Rowlandson, Hogarth, Blake, and many
distinguished names. I draw attention to these things because the town
is laden with newspapers and illustrated sheets. The tendency of the
time seems to be to read less and less, and to depend more upon
pictorial records of events. There are underlying reasons for this on
which we must not dwell; the point of importance to illustrators is the
fact that there is an insatiable demand for "pictures" which tell us
something quickly and accurately, in a language which every nation can
understand.
Another example of the use of pictorial expression to aid the verbal. A
traveller in the Harz Mountains finds himself on the Zeigenkop, near
Blankenberg, on a clear summer's day, and thus describes it in words:--
"We are now on the heights above Blankenberg, a promontory 1,360 feet
above the plains, with an almost uninterrupted view of distant country
looking northward and eastward. The plateau of mountains on which we
have been travelling here ends abruptly. It is the end of the upper
world, but the plains seem illimitable. There is nothing between us
and our homes in Berlin--nothing to impede the view which it is almost
impossible to describe in words. The setting sun has pierced the veil
of mist, and a map of Northern Germany seems unrolled before us,
distant cities coming into view one by one. First, we see Halberstadt
with its spires, then Magdeburg, then another city, and another.
"We have been so occupied with the distant prospect, and with the
objects of interest which give character to it, that we had almost
overlooked the charming composition and suggestive lines of this
wonderful view. There is an ancient castle on the heights, the town of
Blankenberg at our feet, a strange wall of perpendicular rocks in the
middle distance; there are the curves of the valleys, flat pastures,
undulating woods, and roads winding away across the plains. The
central point of interest is the church spire with its cluster of
houses spreading upwards towards the chateau, with its massive
terraces fringed with trees, &c., &c."
This was all very well in word-painting, but what a veil is lifted from
the reader's eyes by some such sketch as the one below.
[Illustration: VIEW ABOVE BLANKENBERG, HARZ MOUNTAINS.]
It should be mentioned that three photographic prints joined together
would hardly have given the picture, owing to the vast extent of this
inland view, and the varying atmospheric effects.
The last instance I can give here is an engraving from _Cassell's
Popular Educator_, where a picture is used to demonstrate the curvature
of the world's surface; thus imprinting, for once, and for always, on
the young reader's mind a fact which words fail to describe adequately.
[Illustration: THE CURVATURE OF THE WORLDS SURFACE.]
This is "The Art of Illustration" in the true sense of the word.
FOOTNOTES:
[3] The quotations are from a paper by the present writer, read
before the Society of Arts in March, 1875.
[4] This system of reporting rifle contests is now almost universal
in England.
[5] It seems strange that enterprising newspapers, with capital at
command, such as the _New York Herald_, _Daily Telegraph_, and _Pall
Mall Gazette_, should not have developed so obvious a method of
transmitting information. The _Pall Mall Gazette_ has been the most
active in this direction, but might do much more.
[6] It has been well said that if a building can be described in
words, it is not worth describing at all!