The passages which you see marked with an asterism * are more
amply explained in the remarks.
Transcriber’s Note: This mark has been expanded to include the
dagger symbol and reference number to help the reader to locate
the relevant remark.
Painting and Poesy are two sisters, which are so like in all things,
that they mutually lend to each other, both their name and office. One
is called a dumb poesy, and the other a speaking picture. The poets have
never said any thing, but what they believed {5.} would please the ears.
And it has been the constant endeavour of the painters to give pleasure
to the eyes. In short, those things which the poets have thought unworthy
of their pens, the painters have judged to be unworthy of their pencils.
[*†1.] For both “those arts, that they might advance the sacred honours
of religion,” have raised themselves to heaven; and, having found a
free admission into {10.} the palace of Jove himself, have enjoyed the
sight and conversation of the gods; whose “awful majesty they observe,
and whose dictates they communicate to mankind;” whom at the same time
they inspire with those celestial flames, which shine so gloriously in
their works. From heaven they take their passage through the world; and
“with concurring studies” collect whatsoever they find worthy of them.
[*†9.] They dive (as I may say) into {15.} all past ages; and search
their histories, for subjects which are proper for their use: with care
avoiding to treat of any but those which, by their nobleness, or by
some remarkable accident, have deserved to be consecrated to eternity;
whether on the seas, or earth, or in the heavens. And by this their
care and study, it comes to pass, that the {20.} glory of heroes is not
extinguished with their lives; and that those admirable works, those
prodigies of skill, which even yet are the objects of our admiration,
are still preserved. [*†24.] So much these divine arts have been almost
honoured; and such authority they preserve amongst mankind. It will not
here {25.} be necessary to implore the succour of Apollo, and the muses,
for the gracefulness of the discourse, or for the cadence of the verses;
which, containing only precepts, have not so much need of ornament, as of
perspicuity.
I pretend not in this treatise to tie the hands of {30.} artists,
“whom practice only directs;” neither would I stifle the genius, by
a jumbled heap of rules; nor extinguish the fire of a vein which is
lively and abundant. But rather to make this my business, that art being
strengthened by the knowledge of things, may at length pass into nature
by slow degrees; and so in process of time, may be {35.} sublimed into a
pure genius, which is capable of choosing judiciously what is true; and
of distinguishing betwixt the beauties of nature, and that which is low
and mean in her; and that this original genius, by long exercise and
custom, may perfectly possess all the rules and secrets of that art.
[Sidenote: Precept I. Of what is beautiful.]
[*†37.] The principal and most important part of painting, is to find
out, and thoroughly to understand, what nature has made most beautiful,
and most proper to this art; [*†39.] and that a choice of it may be made
according to the taste and manner of the {40.} ancients; [*†40.] without
which, all is nothing but a blind and rash barbarity; which rejects what
is most beautiful, and seems, with an audacious insolence, to despise an
art, of which it is wholly ignorant; which has occasioned these words of
the ancients: “That no man is so bold, so rash, and so overweening of his
own works, as an ill painter, and a bad poet, who are not conscious to
themselves of their own ignorance.”
[*†45.] We love what we understand; we desire what {45.} we love; we
pursue the enjoyment of those things which we desire; and arrive at last
to the possession of what we have pursued, if we warmly persist in our
design. In the mean time, we ought not to expect, that blind fortune
should infallibly throw into our hands those beauties; for though we may
light by chance on some which are true and natural, yet they may prove
either not to be decent, or not to be ornamental. Because it is not
sufficient to imitate nature in every circumstance, {50.} dully, and as
it were literally, and minutely; but it becomes a painter to take what
is most beautiful, [*†50.] as being the sovereign judge of his own art;
“what is less beautiful, or is faulty, he shall freely correct by the
dint of his own genius,” [*†52.] and permit no transient beauties to
escape his observation.
[Sidenote: II. Of theory and practice.]
[*†54.] In the same manner, that bare practice, destitute of the
lights of art, is always subject to fall into a precipice, like a
blind traveller, without being {55.} able to produce any thing which
contributes to a solid reputation; so the speculative part of painting,
without the assistance of manual operation, can never attain to that
perfection which is its object, but slothfully languishes as in a
prison; for it was not with his tongue that Apelles performed his noble
works. Therefore, {60.} though there are many things in painting, of
which no precise rules are to be given, [*†61.] (because the greatest
beauties cannot always be expressed for want of terms,) yet I shall
not omit to give some precepts, which I have selected from among the
most considerable which we have received from nature, that exact
school-mistress, after having examined her most secret recesses, as
well as [*†63.] those master-pieces of antiquity, which were the chief
examples of this art; and it is by this means, that the mind and the
natural disposition {65.} are to be cultivated, and that science perfects
genius; [*†66.] and also moderates that fury of the fancy which cannot
contain itself within the bounds of reason; but often carries a man into
dangerous extremes. For there is a mean in all things; and certain limits
or bounds wherein the good and the beautiful consist, and out of which
they never can depart.
[Sidenote: III. Concerning the subject.]
This being premised, the next thing is to make choice of [*†69.] a
subject beautiful and noble; which being of itself capable of all the
charms and graces, {70.} that colours, and the elegance of design, can
possibly give, shall afterwards afford, to a perfect and consummate
art, an ample field of matter wherein to expatiate itself; to exert all
its power, and to produce somewhat to the sight, which is excellent,
judicious, [*†72.] and ingenious; and at the same time proper to
instruct, and to enlighten the understanding.
“At length I come to the work itself; and at {75.} first, find only
a bare strained canvas, on which the sketch is to be disposed by the
strength of a happy imagination;” [*†74.] which is what we properly call
invention. [*†75.]
[Sidenote: Invention the first part of painting.]
[*†76.] Invention is a kind of muse, which, being possessed of the other
advantages common to her sisters, and being warmed by the fire of Apollo,
is raised higher than the rest, and shines with a more glorious and
brighter flame.
[Sidenote: IV. The disposition, or œconomy of the whole work.]
[*†77.] It is the business of a painter, in his choice of attitudes,
to foresee the effect and harmony of the lights and shadows, with the
colours which are to enter into the whole; taking from each of them, that
which will most conduce to the production of {80.} a beautiful effect.
[Sidenote: V. The faithfulness of the subject.]
[*†81.] Let “there be a genuine and lively expression of the subject,”
conformable to the text of ancient authors, to customs, and to times.
[Sidenote: VI. Whatsoever palls the subject to be rejected.]
“Whatever is trivial, foreign, or improper, ought by no means to take up
the principal part of the picture.” [*†83.] But herein imitate the sister
of painting, Tragedy; which employs the whole forces of her art in the
main action. {85.}
[*†89.] This part of painting, so rarely met with, is neither to be
acquired by pains or study, nor by the precepts or dictates of any
master. For they alone who have been inspired at their birth with
{90.} some portion of that heavenly fire, [*†91.] which was stolen by
Prometheus, are capable of receiving so divine a present.
Painting in Egypt was at first rude and imperfect, till being brought
into Greece, [*†92.] and being cultivated by the study and sublime genius
of that {95.} nation, [*†95.] it arrived at length to that height of
perfection, that it seemed to surpass even original nature.
Amongst the academies, which were composed by the rare genius of those
great men, these four are reckoned as the principal: namely, the Athenian
school, that of Sicyon, that of Rhodes, and that of Corinth. These were
little different from each other, only in the manner of their work; as it
may {100.} be seen by the ancient statues, which are the rule of beauty
and gracefulness; and to which succeeding ages have produced nothing that
is equal; “or indeed that is not very much inferior, both in science, and
in the manner of its execution.”
[Sidenote: VII. Design, the second part of painting.]
[*†103.] An attitude therefore must be chosen, according to their taste:
[*†104.] the parts of it must be great and large, [*†105.] “contrasted by
contrary motions; the {105.} most noble parts foremost in sight, and each
figure carefully poised on its own centre.”
[*†107.] “The parts must be drawn with flowing, gliding outlines, large
and smooth, rising gradually, not swelling suddenly, but which may be
just felt in the statues, or cause a little relievo in painting. {110.}
Let the muscles have their origin and insertion, [*†112.] according to
the rules of anatomy; let them not be subdivided into small sections, but
kept as entire as possible, [*†113.] in imitation of the Greek forms,
and expressing only the principal muscles.” In fine, [*†114.] let there
be a perfect relation betwixt the parts and the whole, that they may be
entirely of a piece. {115.}
Let the part which produces another part, be more strong than that which
it produces; and let the whole be seen by one point of sight. [*†117.]
Though perspective cannot be called a perfect ruler “for designing,” yet
it is a great succour to art, and facilitates the “dispatch of the work:”
though frequently {120.} falling into error, it makes us behold things
under a false aspect; for bodies are not always represented according to
the geometrical plane, but such as they appear to the sight.
[Sidenote: VIII. Variety in the figures.]
Neither the shape of faces, nor the age, nor the colour, ought to be
alike in all figures, any more {125.} than the hair; because men are as
different from each other, as the regions in which they are born are
different.
[Sidenote: IX. The members and drapery of every figure to be suitable to
it.]
[Sidenote: X. The actions of mutes to be imitated.]
[*†126.] Let every member be made for its own head, and agree with it;
and let all together compose but one body, with the draperies which are
proper and suitable to it. And, above all, [*†128.] let the figures to
which art cannot give a voice, imitate the mutes in their actions.
[Sidenote: XI. Of the principal figure of the subject.]
[*†129.] Let the principal figure of the subject appear in the middle of
the piece, under the strongest light, {130.} that it may have somewhat
to make it more remarkable than the rest; and that the figures which
accompany it, may not steal it from our sight.
[Sidenote: XII. Groups of figures.]
[*†132.] Let the “parts be brought together, and the figures disposed
in groups:” and let those groups be separated by a void space, to avoid
a confused {135.} heap; which proceeding from parts that are dispersed
without any regularity, and entangled one within another, divides the
sight into many rays, and causes a disagreeable confusion.
[Sidenote: XIII. The diversity of attitudes in the groups.]
[*†137.] The figures in the groups ought not to “have the same
inflections of the body, nor the same motions; nor should they lean
all one way, but break {140.} the symmetry, by proper oppositions and
contrasts.
“To several figures seen in front oppose others with the back toward
the spectator; that is, the shoulders of some opposed to the breasts
of others, and right limbs to left, whether the piece consists of many
figures, or but of few.” {145.}
[Sidenote: XIV. Equality of the piece.]
[*†145.] One side of the picture must not be void, while the other is
filled to the borders; but let matters be so well disposed, that if “any
thing rises high on one side of the piece, you may raise {150.} something
to answer it on the other,” so that they shall appear in some sort equal.
[Sidenote: XV. Of the number of figures.]
[*†152.] As a play is seldom very good, in which there are too many
actors; so it is very seldom seen, and almost impossible to perform, that
a picture should be perfect, in which there are too great a {155.} number
of figures. How “should they excel in putting several figures together,
who can scarce excel in a single one?”
“Many dispersed objects breed confusion, and take away from the picture
that solemn majesty, and agreeable repose, which give beauty to the
piece, and satisfaction to the sight. But if you are {160.} constrained
by the subject to admit of many figures, you must then make the whole to
be seen together, and the effect of the work at one view; and not every
thing separately, and in particular.”
[Sidenote: XVI. Of the joints and feet.]
[*†162.] The extremities of the joints must be seldom hidden; and the
extremities or end of the feet never.
[Sidenote: XVII. The motions of the hands and head must agree.]
[*†164.] The figures which are behind others, have neither grace nor
vigour, unless the motions of the hands accompany those of the head.
{165.}
[Sidenote: XVIII. What must be avoided in the distribution of the
figures.]
Avoid “all odd aspects or positions, and all ungraceful or forced actions
and motions.” Show no parts which are unpleasing to the sight, as all
foreshortenings usually are.
[*†169.] Avoid all those lines and outlines which are equal; which make
parallels, or other sharp-pointed and geometrical figures; such as are
squares and {170.} triangles: all which by being too exact, give to the
eye a certain displeasing symmetry, which produces no good effect. But,
as I have already told you, the principal lines ought to contrast each
other: for which reason, in these outlines, you ought to have a special
regard to the whole together: for it {175.} is from thence that the
beauty and force of the parts proceed.
[Sidenote: XIX. That we must not tie ourselves to nature; but accommodate
her to our genius.]
[*†176.] Be not so strictly tied to nature, that you allow nothing to
study, and the bent of your own genius. But on the other side, believe
not that your genius alone, and the remembrance of those things which
you have seen, can afford you wherewithal to furnish out a beautiful
piece, without the succour of that incomparable school-mistress, Nature;
[*†178.] whom you must have always present as a witness to the truth.
“Errors are infinite,” and, amongst many ways which {180.} mislead a
traveller, there is but one true one, which conducts him surely to his
journey’s end; as also there are many several sorts of crooked lines; but
there is one only which is straight.
[Sidenote: XX. Ancient figures the rules of imitating nature.]
Our business is to imitate the beauties of nature, as the ancients have
done before us, and as the object and nature of the thing require from
us. And for {185.} this reason, we must be careful in the search of
ancient medals, statues, gems, vases, paintings, and basso relievos:
[*†183.] And of all other things which discover to us the thoughts and
inventions of the Grecians; because they furnish us with great ideas, and
make our productions wholly beautiful. And {190.} in truth, after having
well examined them, we shall therein find so many charms, that we shall
pity the destiny of our present age, without hope of ever arriving at so
high a point of perfection.
[Sidenote: XXI. A single figure how to be treated.]
[*†193.] If you have but one single figure to work upon, you ought to
make it perfectly finished, and diversified with many colours.
[Sidenote: XXII. Of the draperies.]
[*†195.] Let the draperies be nobly spread upon the body; let the folds
be large, [*†196.] and let them follow {195.} the order of the parts,
that they may be seen underneath, by means of the lights and shadows;
notwithstanding that the parts should be often traversed (or crossed) by
the flowing of the folds, which loosely encompass them, [*†200.] without
sitting too straight upon them; but let them mark the {200.} parts
which are under them, so as in some manner to distinguish them, by the
judicious ordering of the lights and shadows. [*†202.] And if the parts
be too much distant from each other, so that there be void spaces, which
are deeply shadowed, we are then to take occasion to place in those voids
some fold to make a joining of the parts. {205.} “[*†204.] And as those
limbs and members which are expressed by few and large muscles, excel
in majesty and beauty,” in the same manner the beauty of the draperies
consists not in the multitude of the folds, but in their natural order,
and plain simplicity. The quality of the persons is also to be considered
in the drapery. [*†210.] As supposing them to be magistrates, their
draperies ought to be large and ample; if country clowns, or slaves,
they ought to be coarse and short; [*†211.] if ladies, or damsels, light
and {210.} soft. It is sometimes requisite to draw out, as it were from
the hollows and deep shadows, some fold, and give it a swelling, that so
receiving the light, it may contribute to extend the clearness to those
places where the body requires it; and by this means we shall disburthen
the piece of those hard shadowings, which are always ungraceful.
[Sidenote: XXIII. What things contribute to adorn the picture.]
[*†215.] The marks or ensigns of virtues contribute not {215.} little, by
their nobleness, to the ornament of the figures. Such, for example, as
are the decorations belonging to the liberal arts, to war, or sacrifices.
[Sidenote: XXIV. Of precious stones and pearl for ornaments.]
[*†217.] But let not the work be too much enriched with gold or jewels;
“for the abundance of them makes them look cheap; their value arising
from the scarcity.”
[Sidenote: XXV. The model.]
[*†220.] It is very expedient to make a model of those things, which
we have not in our sight, and whose {220.} nature is difficult to be
retained in the memory.
[Sidenote: XXVI. The scene of the picture.]
[*†221.] We are to consider the places where we lay the scene of the
picture; the countries where they were born, whom we represent; the
manner of their actions, their laws, and customs, and all that is
properly belonging to them.
[Sidenote: XXVII. The graces and the nobleness.]
[*†222.] Let a nobleness and grace be remarkable through all your work.
But, to confess the truth, this is a most difficult undertaking; and a
very rare present, which the artist receives rather from the hand of
Heaven, than from his own industry and studies.
[Sidenote: XXVIII. Let every thing be set in its proper place.]
In all things you are to follow the order of nature; for which reason you
must beware of drawing or painting clouds, winds, and thunder, towards
the bottom of your piece, and hell, and waters, in the {225.} uppermost
parts of it; you are not to place a stone column on a foundation of
reeds, but let every thing be set in its proper place.
[Sidenote: XXIX. Of the passions.]
Besides all this, you are to express the motions {230.} of the spirits,
and the affections or passions, whose centre is the heart; in a word,
to make the soul visible, by the means of some few colours; [*†233.]
this is that in which the greatest difficulty consists. Few there are,
whom Jupiter regards with a favourable eye in this undertaking; so that
it appertains only to those few, who participate somewhat of divinity
itself, to work these mighty wonders. It is the business of rhetoricians,
{235.} to treat the characters of the passions; and I shall content
myself, with repeating what an excellent master has formerly said on this
subject, that a “true and lively expression of the passions, is rather
the work of genius, than of labour and study.”
[Sidenote: XXX. Gothic ornaments are to be avoided.]
[Sidenote: Colouring the third part of painting.]
We are to have no manner of relish for Gothic ornaments, {240.} as being
in effect so many monsters, which barbarous ages have produced; during
which, when discord and ambition, caused by the too large extent of the
Roman empire, had produced wars, plagues, and famine, through the world,
then I say, the stately buildings and colosses fell to ruin, and the
nobleness of all beautiful arts was totally extinguished. Then it was
that the admirable, and {245.} almost supernatural, works of painting
were made fuel for the fire; but that this wonderful art might not wholly
perish, [*†247.] some relicts of it took sanctuary under ground, “in
sepulchres and catacombs,” and thereby escaped the common destiny. And
in the same profane age, sculpture was for a long time buried under the
same ruins, with all its beautiful productions and admirable statues.
The empire, in the mean time, under the weight of its proper crimes,
and undeserving to enjoy the day, was enveloped {250.} with a hideous
night, which plunged it into an abyss of errors, and covered with a
thick darkness of ignorance those unhappy ages, in just revenge of their
impieties. From hence it comes to pass, that the works of those great
Grecians are wanting to us; nothing of their painting and colouring
now remains to assist our modern artists, either in the invention, or
the manner, of those ancients. Neither is there any man who is able to
restore [*†256.] the {255.} chromatic part, or colouring, or to renew it
to that point of excellency, to which it had been carried by Zeuxis; who
by this part, which is so charming, so magical, and which so admirably
deceives the sight, made himself equal to the great Apelles, that prince
of painters; and deserved that height {260.} of reputation, which he
still possesses in the world.
And as this part, which we may call the utmost perfection of painting,
is a deceiving beauty, but withal soothing and pleasing; so she has
been accused of procuring lovers for [*†263.] her sister, and artfully
engaging us to admire her. But so little have {265.} this prostitution,
these false colours, and this deceit, dishonoured painting, that, on the
contrary, they have only served to set forth her praise, and to make her
merit farther known; and therefore it will be profitable to us, to have a
more clear understanding of what we call colouring.
[*†267.] The light produces all kinds of colours, and the shadow gives us
none. The more a body is nearer to the eyes, and the more directly it is
opposed to them, the more it is enlightened. Because the light languishes
and lessens, the farther it removes from its proper source.
The nearer the object is to the eyes, and the more {270.} directly it is
opposed to them, the better it is seen; because the sight is weakened by
distance.
[Sidenote: XXXI. The conduct of the tints of light and shadows.]
It is therefore necessary, “that those parts of round bodies which are
seen directly opposite to the spectator, should have the light entire;”
and that the extremities turn, in losing themselves insensibly and
confusedly, without precipitating the light all on the sudden into the
shadow, or the shadow into {275.} the light. But the passage of one into
the other, must be common and imperceptible, that is, by degrees of
lights into shadows, and of shadows into lights. And it is in conformity
to these principles, that you ought to treat a whole group of figures,
though it be composed of several parts, in the same {280.} manner as you
would do a single head: “or if the wideness of the space, or largeness
of the composition, requires, that you should have two groups or three,
[*†280.] (which should be the most,) let the lights and shadows be so
discreetly managed, [*†283.] that light bodies may have a sufficient mass
or breadth of shadow to sustain them, and that dark bodies may {285.}
have a sudden light behind to detach them from the ground.
[*†286.] “As in a convex mirror, the collected rays strike stronger and
brighter in the middle than upon the natural object, and the vivacity of
the colours is increased in the parts full in your sight; [*†290.] while
the goings off are more and more broken and faint as they approach to
the extremities, in the same manner {290.} bodies are to be raised and
rounded.”
Thus the painter and the sculptor are to work with one and the same
intention, and with one and the same conduct. For what the sculptor
strikes off, and makes round with his tool; the painter performs with
his pencil, casting behind that which he makes less visible, by the
diminution and breaking {295.} of his colours: “That which is foremost
and nearest to the eye, must be so distinctly expressed, as to be sharp,
or almost cutting to the sight. Thus shall the colours be disposed upon a
plane, which from a proper place and distance will seem so natural {300.}
and round, as to make the figures appear so many statues.
[Sidenote: XXXII. Of dark bodies on light grounds.]
“Solid bodies subject to the touch, are not to be {305.} painted
transparent; and even when such bodies are placed upon transparent
grounds, as upon clouds, waters, air, and the like vacuities, they must
be preserved opaque,[142] that their solidity be not destroyed among
those light, aërial, transparent species; and must therefore be expressed
sharper and rougher than what is next to them, more distinct by a firm
light and shadow, and with more solid and {310.} substantial colours;
that, on the contrary, the smoother and more transparent may be thrown
off to a farther distance.”
[Sidenote: XXXIII. That there must not be two equal lights in a picture.]
We are never to admit two equal lights in the same picture, but the
greater light must strike forcibly on the middle; and there extend its
greatest clearness on those places of the picture, where the principal
figures of it are, and where the {315.} strength of the action is
performed; diminishing by degrees as it comes nearer and nearer to the
borders; and after the same manner, that the light of the sun languishes
insensibly, in its spreading from the east, from whence it begins,
towards the west, where it decays and vanishes; so the light of the
picture being distributed over all the colours, will become less sensible
the farther it is removed {320.} from its original.
The experience of this is evident in those statues, which we see set up
in the midst of public places, whose upper parts are more enlightened
than the lower; and therefore you are to imitate them in the distribution
of your lights.
Avoid strong shadows on the middle of the limbs, lest the great quantity
of black which composes those shadows should seem to enter into them,
and to cut them: rather take care to place {325.} those shadowings round
about them, thereby to heighten the parts; and take such advantageous
lights, that after great lights great shadows may succeed. And
therefore Titian said, with reason, that he knew no better rule for the
distribution of the lights and shadows, than his observations drawn from
a [*†329.] bunch of grapes.
[Sidenote: XXXIV. Of white and black.]
[*†330.] Pure, or unmixed white, either draws an object {330.} nearer, or
carries it off to farther distance; it draws it nearer with black, and
throws it backward without it. [*†332.] But as for pure black, there is
nothing which brings the object nearer to the sight.
The light being altered by some colour, never fails to communicate
somewhat of that colour to the bodies on which it strikes; and the same
effect is performed by the medium of air, through which it passes.
[Sidenote: XXXV. The reflection of colours.]
The bodies which are close together, receive from {335.} each other that
colour which is opposite to them; and reflect on each other that, which
is naturally and properly their own.
[Sidenote: XXXVI. Union of colours.]
It is also consonant to reason, that the greatest part of those bodies
which are under a light, which is extended, and distributed equally
through all, should participate of each others colours. The Venetian
school having a great regard for that maxim, (which the ancients called
the breaking of colours,) in the quantity of figures, with which {340.}
they fill their pictures, have always endeavoured the union of colours;
for fear, that being too different, they should come to encumber the
sight: “therefore they painted each figure with one colour, {345.} or
with colours of near affinity, though the habit were of different kinds,
distinguishing the upper garment from the under, or from the loose and
flowing mantle, by the tints, or degrees, harmonizing and uniting the
colours, with whatever was next to them.”
[Sidenote: XXXVII. On the interposition of air.]
The less aërial space which there is betwixt us {350.} and the object,
and the more pure the air is, by so much the more the species are
preserved and distinguished; and, on the contrary, the more space of
air there is, and the less pure it is, so much the more the object is
confused and embroiled.
[Sidenote: XXXVIII. The relation of distances.]
Those objects which are placed foremost to the view, ought always to
be more finished, than those which are cast behind; and ought to have
dominion over those things which are confused and transient. [*†355.] But
let this be done relatively, viz. one {355.} thing greater and stronger,
casting the less behind, and rendering it less sensible by its opposition.
[Sidenote: XXXIX. Of bodies which are distanced.]
Those things which are removed to a distant view, though they are many,
yet ought to make but one mass; as for example, the leaves on the trees,
and the billows in the sea.
[Sidenote: XL. Of bodies which are contiguous, and of those which are
separated.]
Let not the objects which ought to be contiguous {360.} be separated; and
let those which ought to be separated, be apparently so to us; but let
this be done by a small and pleasing difference.
[Sidenote: XLI. Contrary extremities to be avoided.]
[*†361.] Let two contrary extremities never touch each other, either in
colour or in light; but let there always be a medium partaking both of
the one and of the other.
[Sidenote: XLII. Diversity of tints and colours.]
Let the bodies every where be of different tints and colours; that those
which are behind may be tied in friendship together; and that those which
are foremost may be strong and lively.
[Sidenote: XLIII. The choice of light.]
[*†365.] It is labour in vain to paint a high-noon, or {365.} mid-day
light, in your picture; because we have no colours which can sufficiently
express it; but it is better counsel, to choose a weaker light; such as
is that of the evening with which the fields are gilded by the sun; or a
morning light, whose whiteness is allayed; or that which appears after a
shower of rain, which the sun gives us through the breaking of a cloud;
or during thunder, when the clouds {370.} hide him from our view, and
make the light of a fiery colour.
[Sidenote: XLIV. Of certain things relating to the practical part.]
Smooth bodies, such as crystals, polished metals, wood, bones, and
stones; those which are covered with hair, as skins, the beard, or the
hair of the head; as also feathers, silks, and the eyes, which are of a
watery nature; and those which are liquid, as waters, and those corporeal
species, {375.} which we see reflected by them; and in fine, all that
which touches them, or is near them, ought to be “carefully painted
flat, in flowing colours; then touched up with sprightly lights, and the
true lines of the drawing restored, which were lost, or confused, in
working the colours together.”
[Sidenote: XLV. The field, or ground of the picture.]
[*†378.] Let the field, or ground of the picture, be pleasant, free,
transient, light, and well united with colours, which are of a friendly
nature to each other; and of such a mixture, as there may be {380.}
something in it of every colour that composes your work, as it were the
contents of your palette. “And let those bodies that are back in the
ground be painted with colours allied to those of the ground itself.”
[Sidenote: XLVI. Of the vivacity of colours.]
[*†382.] Let your colours be lively, and yet not look (according to the
painters’ proverb) as if they had been rubbed or sprinkled with meal;
that is to say, let them not be pale.
[*†383.] Let the parts which are nearest to us, and most raised, be
strongly coloured, and as it were sparkling; and let those parts which
are more remote from sight, and towards the borders, be more faintly
touched.
[Sidenote: XLVII. Of shadows.]
[*†385.] Let there be so much harmony, or consent, in {385.} the masses
of the picture, that all the shadowings may appear as if they were but
one.
[Sidenote: XLVIII. The picture to be of one piece.]
[*†386.] “Let the whole picture be of one piece, as if it were painted
from one palette.”
[Sidenote: XLIX. The looking-glass the painter’s best master.]
[*†387.] The looking-glass will instruct you in many beauties, which you
may observe from nature; so will also those objects which are seen in an
evening in a large prospect.
[Sidenote: L. An half figure, or a whole one, before others.]
If there be a half figure, or a whole one, to be set before the other
figures, and placed nearer to the view, and next the light; or if it is
to be painted in a great place, though at a distance from the eye; be
sure on these occasions not to be sparing of great {390.} lights, the
most lively colours, nor the strongest shadows.
[Sidenote: LI. A portrait.]
[*†393.] As for a portrait, or pictures by the life, you are to work
precisely after nature, and to express what she shows you, working at
the same time on those parts which are resembling to each {395.} other:
as for example, the eyes, the cheeks, the nostrils, and the lips: so
that you are to touch the one, as soon as you have given a stroke of the
pencil to the other, lest the interruption of time cause you to lose
the idea of one part, which nature has produced to resemble the other;
and thus imitating feature for feature, with a just and harmonious
composition of the lights and shadows, and of the colours; and giving to
the picture that liveliness, which the freedom and force of the pencil
make appear, it may seem, the living hand of nature.
[Sidenote: LII. The place of the picture.]
The works which are painted to be seen near, in little or narrow places,
must be very tender and well united with tints and colours; “let those
which are to be seen at a distance, be varied with fiercer colours and
stronger tints.
“Very large figures must have room enough, {400.} and strong, or rather
fierce colouring.”
[Sidenote: LIII. Large lights.]
[*†403.] You are to “take the utmost care, that broad lights may be
joined to a like breadth of shadows.”
[Sidenote: LIV. What lights are requisite.]
If the picture be set in a place which receives but little light, the
colours must be very clear; as, on the contrary, very brown, if the place
be {405.} strongly enlightened, or in the open air.
[Sidenote: LV. Things which are vicious in painting to be avoided.]
Remember to avoid objects which are full of hollows, broken in pieces,
little, and which are separated, or in parcels; shun also those things
which are barbarous, shocking to the eye, and party-coloured, and which
are all of an equal force of light and shadow; as also all things which
are obscene, {410.} impudent, filthy, unseemly, cruel, fantastical,
poor, and wretched; and those things which are sharp to the feeling;
in short, all things which corrupt their natural forms, by a confusion
of their parts which are entangled in each other: “For the eyes have a
horror for those things, which the hands will not condescend to touch.”
[Sidenote: LVI. The prudential part of a painter.]
But while you endeavour to avoid one vice, be cautious lest you fall into
another; for “extremes are always vicious.” {415.}
[Sidenote: LVII. The idea of a beautiful piece.]
[Sidenote: LVIII. Advice to a young painter.]
Those things which are beautiful in the utmost degree of perfection,
according to the axiom of ancient painters, [*†417.] ought to have
somewhat of greatness in them, and their outlines to be noble; they
must be disentangled, pure, and without alteration, clean, and knit
together; composed of great parts, yet those but few in number. In
fine, distinguished by bold colours; but of such as are related and
{420.} friendly to each other. And as it is a common saying, that “he
who has begun well, has already performed half his work;” [*†422.] so
there is nothing more pernicious to a youth who is yet in the elements
of painting, than to engage himself under the discipline of an ignorant
master; who depraves his taste, by an infinite number of mistakes, of
which his wretched works are full and thereby {425.} makes him drink the
poison, which infects him through all his future life.
Let him, who is yet but a beginner, not make so much haste to study after
nature, every thing which he intends to imitate, as not in the mean time
to learn proportions, the connection of the joints, and their outlines:
and let him first have {430.} well examined the excellent originals, and
have thoroughly studied all the pleasing deceptions of his art; which
he must be rather taught by a knowing master, than by practice; and by
seeing him perform, without being contented only to hear him speak.
[Sidenote: LIX. Art must be subservient to the painter.]
[*†433.] Search whatsoever is aiding to your art, and convenient; and
avoid those things which are repugnant to it.
[Sidenote: LX. Diversity and facility are pleasing.]
[*†434.] Bodies of divers natures, which are aggrouped (or combined)
together, are agreeable and pleasant to the sight; [*†435.] as also
those things which seem to be slightly touched, and performed with ease;
because {435.} they are ever full of spirit, and appear to be animated
with a kind of celestial fire. But we are not able to compass these
things with facility, till we have for a long time weighed them in our
judgment, and thoroughly considered them: by this means the painter shall
be enabled to conceal the pains and study which his art and work have
cost him, under a pleasing sort of deceit; for the greatest secret which
belongs to art, is to hide it from the discovery of spectators.
[Sidenote: LXI. The original must be in the head, and the copy on the
cloth.]
Never give the least touch with your pencil, till {440.} you have well
examined your design, and have settled your outlines; [*†442.] nor till
you have present in your mind a perfect idea of your work.
[Sidenote: LXII. The compass to be in the eyes.]
[*†443.] Let the eye be satisfied in the first place, even against and
above all other reasons, which beget difficulties in your art, which of
itself suffers none; and let the compass be rather in your eyes, than in
your hands.
[Sidenote: LXIII. Pride an enemy to good painting.]
[*†445.] Profit yourself by the counsels of the knowing; {445.} and do
not arrogantly disdain to learn the opinion of every man concerning
your work. All men are blind as to their own productions, and no man
is capable of judging in his own cause. [*†449.] But if you have no
knowing friend to assist you with his advice, yet {450.} length of time
will never fail; it is but letting some weeks pass over your head, or
at least some days, without looking on your work; and that intermission
will faithfully discover to you the faults and beauties. Yet suffer not
yourself to be carried away by the opinions of the vulgar, who often
speak without knowledge; neither give up yourself altogether to them, and
abandon wholly your own genius, so as lightly to change that which you
have made; for he who has a windy head, and flatters himself with the
empty hope of deserving the praise of the common people, (whose opinions
are inconsiderate and changeable,) does but injure himself, and pleases
no man.
[Sidenote: LXIV. Know yourself.]
Since every painter paints himself in his own {455.} works, (so much is
nature accustomed to produce her own likeness,) it is advantageous to
him to know himself; [*†458.] to the end that he may cultivate those
talents which make his genius, and not unprofitably lose his time, in
endeavouring to gain that, which she has refused {460.} him. As neither
fruits have the taste, nor flowers the beauty which is natural to them,
when they are transplanted into an unkindly or foreign soil, and are
forced to bear before their season, by an artificial heat; so it is in
vain for the painter to sweat over his works, in spite of nature and of
genius; for without them, it is impossible for him to succeed.
[Sidenote: LXV. Perpetually practise, and do easily what you have
conceived.]
[*†464.] While you meditate on these truths, and observe them diligently,
by making necessary reflections on them; let the labour of the hand
accompany the study of the brain; let the former second and support the
latter; yet without blunting the {465.} sharpness of your genius, and
abating of its vigour by too much assiduity.
[Sidenote: LXVI. The morning most proper for work.]
[*†466.] The morning is the best and most proper part of the day for your
business; employ it therefore in the study and exercise of those things
which require the greatest pains and application.
[Sidenote: LXVII. Every day do something.]
[*†468.] Let no day pass over you, without a line.
[Sidenote: LXVIII. The passions which are true and natural.]
Observe, as you walk the streets, the airs of heads; the natural postures
and expressions; which are always {470.} the most free, the less they
seem to be observed.
[Sidenote: LXIX. Of table-books.]
[*†473.] Be ready to put into your table-book (which you must always
carry about you) whatsoever you judge worthy of it: whether it be upon
the earth, or in the air, or upon the waters, while the species of them
is yet fresh in your imagination.
[*†475.] Wine and good cheer are no great friends to {475.} painting;
they serve only to recreate the mind, when it is opprest and spent with
labour; then indeed it is proper to renew your vigour by the conversation
of your friends. Neither is a true painter naturally pleased with the
fatigue of business, and particularly of the law, [*†478.] but delights
in the liberty which belongs to the bachelor’s estate. [*†480.] Painting
naturally withdraws from noise and tumult, and pleases itself in the
enjoyment of a country retirement; because silence and solitude set an
edge {480.} upon the genius, and cause a greater application to work and
study; and also serve to produce the ideas, which, so conceived, will be
always present in the mind, even to the finishing of the work; the whole
compass of which, the painter can at that time more commodiously form to
himself, than at any other.
[*†484.] Let not the covetous design of growing rich, {485.} induce you
to ruin your reputation, but rather satisfy yourself with a moderate
fortune; and let your thoughts be wholly taken up with acquiring to
yourself a glorious name, which can never perish, but with the world; and
make that the recompense of your worthy labours.
[*†487.] The qualities requisite to form an excellent painter, are, a
true discerning judgment, a mind which is docible, a noble heart, a
sublime sense of things, and fervour of soul; after which follow, health
of body, a convenient share of fortune, the {490.} flower of youth,
diligence, an affection for the art, and to be bred under the discipline
of a knowing master.
And remember, that whatsoever your subject be, whether of your own
choice, or what chance or good fortune shall put into your hand, if you
have not that genius, or natural inclination, which your art requires,
you shall never arrive to perfection in it, even with all those great
advantages which I have mentioned. For the wit and the manual operation
are things vastly distant from each other. It is the influence of your
stars, and the happiness of your genius, to which you must be obliged for
the greatest beauties of your art.
Nay, even your excellencies sometimes will not {495.} pass for such in
the opinion of the learned, but only as things which have less of error
in them; for no man sees his own failings; [*†496.] and life is so short,
that it is not sufficient for so long an art. Our strength fails us in
our old age, when we begin to know somewhat; age oppresses us by the same
degrees that it instructs us; and permits not, that our mortal members,
which are frozen with our years, should retain the vigour and spirits of
our youth.
[Sidenote: LXX. The method of studies for a young painter.]
[*†500.] Take courage therefore, O ye noble youths! {500.} you legitimate
offspring of Minerva, who are born under the influence of a happy planet,
and warmed with a celestial fire, which attracts you to the love of
science! exercise, while you are young, your whole forces, and employ
them with delight in an art, which requires a whole painter. Exercise
them, I say, while your boiling youth supplies {505.} you with strength,
and furnishes you with quickness, and with vigour; while your mind, yet
pure, and void of error, has not taken any ill habitude to vice; while
yet your spirits are inflamed with the thirst of novelties, and your
mind is filled with the first species of things which present themselves
to young imagination, which it gives in keeping to your memory; and
which your memory retains for length of time, by reason of the moisture
wherewith at that age the brain abounds. [*†503.] You will do well
[*†509.] to begin with geometry, and after having made some progress
in it, [*†510.] set yourself on designing after the ancient Greeks:
[*†511.] and cease {510.} not day or night from labour, till, by your
continual practice, you have gained an easy habitude of imitating them
in their invention, and in their manner. [*†514.] And when afterwards
your judgment shall grow stronger, and come to its maturity with years,
it will be very necessary to see and examine one after the other, and
part by part, those works which have given so great a reputation to the
masters of {515.} the first form in pursuit of that method, which we
have taught you here above, and according to the rules which we have
given you; such are the Romans, the Venetians, the Parmesans, and the
Bologneses. Amongst those excellent persons, Raphael {520.} had the
talent of invention for his share, by which he made as many miracles as
he made pictures. In which is observed [*†520.] a certain grace which was
wholly natural and peculiar to him, and which none since him have been
able to appropriate to themselves. Michael Angelo possessed powerfully
the part of design, above all others. [*†522.] Julio Romano (educated
from his childhood among the muses) has opened to us the treasures of
Parnassus: and in the poetry of painting has discovered to our eyes the
most sacred mysteries of Apollo, and all {525.} the rarest ornaments
which that god is capable of communicating to those works that he
inspires; which we knew not before, but only by the recital that the
poets made of them. He seems to have painted those famous wars “in which
fortune has crowned her triumphant heroes;” and those other glorious
events which she has caused in all ages, even with more magnificence and
nobleness, than when they were acted in the world.
“The shining eminence of Correggio consists in {530.} his laying on ample
broad lights encompassed with friendly shadows, and in a grand style
of painting, with a delicacy in the management of colours.” And Titian
understood so well the union of the masses, and the bodies of colours,
the harmony of the tints and the disposition of the whole together, that
he has deserved those honours and that wealth which were heaped upon him,
together with that attribute of being sirnamed the divine painter. The
laborious and diligent Annibal Caracci has taken from all those great
persons already mentioned {535.} whatsoever excellencies he found in
them, and, as it were, converted their nourishment into his own substance.
[Sidenote: LXXI. Nature and experience perfect art.]
It is a great means of profiting yourself, to copy diligently those
excellent pieces, and those beautiful designs; but Nature, which is
present before your eyes, is yet a better mistress; for she augments the
force and vigour of the genius, and she it is from whom art derives her
ultimate perfection, {540.} by the means of sure experience; [*†541.]
I pass in silence many things which will be more amply treated in the
ensuing commentary.
And now considering that all things are subject to the vicissitude of
time, and that they are liable to destruction by several ways, I thought
I might reasonably take the boldness [*†544.] to intrust to the muses
(those lovely and immortal sisters of painting) these few precepts, which
I have here made and collected of that art.
I employed my time in the study of this work at {545.} Rome, while
the glory of the Bourbon family, and the just avenger of his injured
ancestors, the victorious Louis XIII. was darting his thunder on the
Alps, and causing his enemies to feel the force of his unconquerable
arms; while he, like another Gallic Hercules, born for the benefit and
honour of his country, was griping the Spanish Geryon by the {550.}
throat, and at the point of strangling him.