floor-cloth, which involves attention to the conditions above mentioned
as referring to tile-work, but in a less degree, inasmuch as its more
household and domestic applications allow a somewhat greater latitude in
fancy and colour. As suitable for canvas, they will admit of various
supplementary borderings and intricacies of pattern, conceived around
them in the spirit of the original design, and serving as a means for
the introduction of the colours most commonly employed in this branch of
manufacture.
In regard to the figures of snow we have two distinct suggestive ideas
in reference to their application,--the one, that of ingrafting them
into different styles of ornament for their further extension into new
forms; the other, that of their adoption to various decorative purposes
now usurped by designs or patterns which, in part sanctioned by use, are
greatly censurable on the grounds of fitness and taste. In the latter
spirit we consider that they may be most usefully applied to
paper-hangings, although of late in this branch of design there has been
a manifest improvement. Not long ago the “artist” who presided over this
department, and whose influence was felt more or less in every home of
the kingdom, had no guide but his own ill-educated and distorted will;
he threw things together without the least regard to harmony of colour,
fitness of proportion, or form of any kind, and called the heterogeneous
mass “a design.” Latterly he has had better opportunities for the
acquisition of knowledge; but what is of far more importance, he has had
better-informed critics. In some instances his task has preceded, in
others it has followed, that of his customers; but assuredly we do not
now often see upon our walls the monstrous perpetrations which disgraced
those of our childhood. If the paper-hanger will examine this collection
of suggestions from Nature--from Nature as she exhibits only one phase
of grace and beauty--we feel sure that he will be at once convinced that
their adoption will be of immense value to him.
There is one application yet to mention, which we have reserved to this
place as involving somewhat lengthy consideration--that of their
adaptation to the manufacture of earthenware and porcelain. The ungainly
and unmeaning spots that are so often put upon plates, and the distorted
ornament which so frequently degrades cups and saucers and jugs for
ordinary domestic use, we hope may, to a great extent, be displaced by
these snow crystals, which, varied to infinity, would cause the eye and
mind to receive that refreshment which arises from the true and
beautiful; nor are we without hope that they may ultimately be received
into the higher application to porcelain. We all know that porcelain has
long enjoyed a monopoly of the most tasteful designs that art could
suggest, whether of birds, flowers, medallions of figures, or
arabesques; but we are in hopes that they may suggest a few novelties of
designs to this the most favoured medium for the display of the natural
and beautiful in art. This hope of itself suggests the question, How far
have the beauty and symmetry of the geometric figure been acknowledged
and employed hitherto in their designs? The answer to this question
involves an inquiry into the history of designs as applied to pottery,
from its first crude attempts at the delineation of natural objects to
the present time, when, both in England and abroad, it has attained to
such great perfection. As a distinct inquiry this is scarcely less
interesting than instructive, leading, as it does, the student in design
to a correct knowledge of that which is beautiful and appropriate rather
than conventional. As an important aid to such knowledge, the Ceramic
collection at the South Kensington Museum offers a means of study to the
student in ceramic design. The most crude attempts, dating from the
conclusion of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth
centuries, are easily distinguishable by the rude outlines they exhibit
of men and animals and flowers: in some cases strictly imitative, so far
as the skill of the workman has permitted; in others, fanciful and
grotesque. In some specimens belonging to this period of art are
attempts at creative design in the geometric precision with which
similar forms of leaves and interlaced patterns are represented, chiefly
described in shades of the same colour upon a uniform ground, and
differing much in regard to the accuracy with which they are executed.
Some of the subjects chosen are religious, including representations of
our Saviour; some allegorical; and others, again, heraldic devices. The
rude, but flowing, and sometimes evolved, designs of the interlaced and
outline patterns are chiefly borrowed from leaves and flowers, rather
than based on principles of geometry; the colouring also is bold and
prominent, in conformity with the spirit of the design, and exhibits the
primaries blue, red, and yellow, but slightly tempered by the milder
and subsidiary tints, upon which, at a later time, the painters of
Majolica knew so well how to rest their most soft and agreeable effects.
Of the Raphael ware, so well known and so highly prized by connoisseurs,
little here need be said. Raphael, in his early youth, is supposed to
have devoted some time to the painting of Majolica, and hence its name
at this period and for some time beyond. Whether or not the easy grace
and spirited style of these paintings, chiefly allegorical, though
representing sometimes passages from history, and the harmonious
softness of the colouring, give intrinsic value to the most trifling
specimens of the art, whether for ornament or domestic use (and many
rich specimens still remain to attest their value, and the exuberant
taste and imagination of those painters who were content to trust their
creations of fancy to so brittle a medium), to them the designers of the
present day remain indebted for a certain freedom and unconventional
display of art, which, restrained and modified, long exercised an
influence on design, and is traceable even now.
A few years later an entirely new class of designs was originated by
Palissy, master potter to Francis I. This eminent ceramic artist, born
in France, was the originator of the Palissy ware, scarcely less known
than that of Raphael. His works are executed in relievo, and are
distinguished from others of the period in the choice of subjects, which
are chiefly drawn from natural objects, such as plants, reptiles,
fishes, &c. Among the specimens known by the name of Palissy ware are
rustic baskets designed on a strictly geometric base of divergent lines
from the centre to the circumference, partly in relievo, and very
effective in style and composition. The chief merit of this artist
consists in his fidelity to Nature, and an original whimsicality of
conception. Passing on from Palissy, we come, many years later, to
specimens of china of a tasteful degree of ornament, that would do no
discredit to the porcelain works of the present day. Here, in the
central medallion, is a group of figures, Raphaelesque in their easy
grace of outline, yet highly studied, and claiming the rank of a
finished picture.
The Berlin porcelain illustrates the perfection of that union which
combines the imitation of the beautiful in Nature with the less sensuous
beauty of the geometric figure. In the Sèvres porcelain, in the same
collection, the geometric figure rises to higher importance, forming in
the beautiful “Versailles Service” a framework for the jewels which
enrich the exquisite centre medallions.
The impression we derive from retracing the history of the past is, that
the geometric figure has rarely been employed as a principal agent in
decoration. We are speaking still in reference to the period we have
been considering, and which is one calculated to trace with effect the
progress we have in view. Prominent among the earlier specimens is the
delineation of simple forms borrowed from Nature, repeated with
indifferent fidelity of execution, and spread over the entire surface of
the piece; whilst in later times, when the mechanical processes improved
and admitted of greater accuracy, we find it restricted to light and
artificially constructed borderings, so arranged as to lend additional
beauty to the freedom of colour and design elsewhere displayed; and we
gather, also, that if in the works of high art we find it nowhere
unmixed with designs of a less formal character, there is scarcely a
work that is not indebted to the grave and conventional arrangement of
pattern founded upon a genuine knowledge and elucidation of its
principles.
It has ever been greatly against the very general adoption of
geometrically constructed figures to the purposes of porcelain, that the
unaided hand of the draftsman is insufficient to insure the requisite
accuracy of outline--a difficulty which even at the present day limits
to a very great extent their employment in this department of art.
Still, we are led to hope that the figures of snow may prove suggestive
of a new basis on which to construct designs no less symmetrical than
those which we have seen to proceed from other and better-known sources;
whilst the rate of modern improvement in most branches of industry leads
us to hope that this difficulty before long may become less formidable,
and that improvements in printing will enable manufacturers to repeat
with tolerable cheapness patterns which have been confined to the more
costly articles of luxury. Of modern applications one in particular
occurs to us--it is that they may aid in the formation of a set of
ice-plates for the dessert or supper table. We can imagine the ground of
the plates a clear light blue; in the centre may be the crystal,
selecting in preference from those forms which are most crystalline and
arborescent; among them, that most graceful of all, the water crystal,
distinguishing it from the ground by shades of grey, which should be so
distributed as to impart to the copy the frosted effect of the original.
Around the centre, and immediately beneath or upon the raised margin of
the plate, might be arranged a circular bordering, similar to that we
have described as surrounding the margin of a pond on its first
congelation, when the needles, becoming incrusted with crystalline
deposit, assume the appearance of frosted ferns.
There is yet another application that suggests itself to us, although
the beautiful designs on porcelain executed by Messrs. Copeland & Co.
scarcely leave anything to be desired by the most fastidious; we refer
to the painting of tiles or slabs of porcelain, to be mounted in frames
of silver, or wood, for ornamental or domestic purposes, and for which,
of late, there has been a large and increasing demand. Fig. 44 (page
174) is designed for this application from one of the snow crystals.
To turn to yet another and far wider scope which may hence be given to
the cotton-printer, millions of “dresses” issue every year from
Manchester. For those which are intended to clothe “the masses” there is
usually little attempt at design. A simple form of a single colour is
all that is sought for, and the puzzle is, how to obtain variety. Here
is a book of patterns, no one of which has ever been used; leaf after
leaf may be turned over, “and still find something new”--something that
may be copied as it presents itself, something that will be suggestive.
Our references have been made to but a few of the arts which may
be--which must be--largely influenced by this power to
[Illustration: Fig. 44.]
resort to another means of teaching; but it is obvious that there is no
branch of manufacture which may not, to some extent, be benefited by it.
Let the student give the subject a moment’s thought, and he will be
convinced of this; let him look down to his carpet, or up at his
ceiling; let him turn to the cover of the book he is perusing, notice
any part of a lady’s dress, or of his own, where ornamentation is
admissible; let him, in short, consider any object, anywhere, under any
circumstances, and then examine the few examples we set before him in
these pages, and he will at once perceive how much of harmony, of truth,
of beauty, may be obtained by an intellectual study of these forms,
which are neither more nor less than Nature’s teachings from a book
hitherto unopened.
IV.
THE SYMMETRICAL AND ORNAMENTAL FORMS OF ORGANIC REMAINS.
BY ROBERT HUNT, F.R.S.
I.
The most useful as well as the most ornamental devices which have sprung
from the exercise of human ingenuity have all been founded upon the
varied and beautiful creations which Nature has presented to us. It is
not within the limits of human power to create, but from the impressions
made upon the mind an unlimited variety of combinations may be formed.
By the mental kaleidoscope an infinite change of form is produced by the
re-arrangement of a few simple elements of beauty. The ideal head of the
Grecian sculptures is but a refined reproduction of the lines of grace
and beauty which the observant artists had seen in, and selected from,
the intellectual features of the educated Athenians. Architecture, too,
has liberally borrowed from the perfections of the human form. In the
symmetry of the Ionic columns, and in the graceful strength and grouped
elegance of the Caryatides, we trace the best proportions of the perfect
woman; and in the flowing beauty of their ornamentations we may discover
a reproduction of some of those caprices which are the spontaneous
growth of the female mind. Architecture has no less liberally borrowed
its styles and ornaments from other natural sources: from the arched
cavern and the bowery forest tradition draws the form of the Egyptian
temple and the Gothic fane. The chalice-like flower of the lotus of the
Nile ornaments the columns of Luxor; the acanthus foliage decorates
those of Corinth; and in numerous other instances the artist has sought
to weave the simplicity of vegetable forms into the texture of his work,
for the purpose of insuring a general character of lightness and
elegance.
Whether the ancient potter selected the shapes of his fictile
manufactures from the foliage of the forests of his land has been
frequently discussed. It is sufficient, at present, to know that the
elegant curves of the Athenian and Etrurian vases, which have through
all periods been regarded as beautiful, owe this high appreciation to
the simple fact that they are true to the lines which Nature has herself
adopted. The true is always beautiful, and in whatever form it may
address itself to the mind, it exerts over it an uncontrollable power
for good. The impulses of Nature are ever in the direction of
perfection, and we find, even in the exercise of the mysterious physical
forces which bind the atoms of matter into a mass, that a constant
tendency is exhibited towards an arrangement which shall observe the
utmost symmetry. In the inorganic world we have crystalline forms
exhibiting an obedience to the most perfect geometrical laws; and in
organic creation--from the lowly lichen to the stateliest tree, from the
infusorial inhabitants of a drop of water up to man--we have molecule
combining with molecule in a myriad ways, but in all of them producing
results which charm by their adaptation to circumstances, and in the
perfection of every organ.
The efforts of man to convey to the canvas the resemblance of
humanity--to impress, by the agency of a few colours upon his tablet, a
reflection of the mental operation as it is seen “breathing through the
face” in love and sympathy, or disturbing the features with agony or
sorrow--is but an exalted effort of that desire which moves the entire
race to copy the phenomena of Nature as they present themselves to our
senses. It is the prevailing character, and, indeed, the distinguishing
feature, of the human race, that it delights in imitation: the child in
its play, and the man of talent in his studio, are equally
exemplifications of this fact. Man has ever gone to Nature for his
inspirations. If we examine the rude productions of the savage who is
awaking from his merely animal existence, and over whom mind is
beginning to assert its power, we discover that his first impulses are
to gleam from the organized forms around him such objects as he
conceives will add something to the adornment of his body. When he
commences to produce any of those aids to existence which are the
earliest efforts of technical art, we still see he rudely attempts to
copy some familiar natural form. Whether we select from Greece “those
faultless productions whose very fragments are the despair of modern
art,” the almost breathing marbles of Phydias--whether we take the
sun-baked pottery of ancient Egypt or of Central America, the
“art-manufactures” of a primitive people, or those manifestations of an
educated taste which Greece, Rome, and modern Europe afford, we shall
find that in all alike the effort to imitate the works of Nature is the
prevailing tendency. And, beyond this, we shall learn, too, that where
the simple beauties of Nature have been approached--seldom have they
been realised--the art-production has become the glory of the age and
the boast of the country to which it belongs. We sometimes find that
human intellect, proud of its comparatively high achievements, quits
that almost stern simplicity which distinguishes Nature, and aspires to
produce effects by violent contrasts and glaring characteristics; but
the result is invariably the fate of Dædalus, whose flight on waxen
wings was punished by a fearful fall. The departure from Nature in the
works of art marks, like a widespreading mildew, the decay of nations;
and this is readily accounted for. As good taste invariably indicates a
feeling of the presence of that intellectual beauty,
“The awful shadow of some unseen power,”
which consecrates all that it shines upon, and gains an ascendancy over
the gross sensualities of life, so a departure from it exhibits the
operations of those feelings which have their origin in the depravity of
the race.
Our artists and our artisans have sought busily over the surface of the
earth for subjects on which to labour. Herb, shrub, and tree, leaf and
flower, have been copied to ornament the works of their hands. The sea
has yielded its organic forms, and the workman has sought, amidst the
finny tribes and the shelly wonders of the great deep, for subjects to
aid his decorative designs. The insect, the bird, and the beast have
equally ministered to the exercise of fancy; and the inventive powers
of the imaginative have not unfrequently attempted to blend the three
kingdoms of Nature in one device, in the eager search for that novelty
which generally gains a host of admirers. Leigh Hunt with truth
exclaims, “We know not a millionth part of the wonders of this beautiful
world;” and it is but slowly that science is discovering to us new
subjects of admiration; but though slowly, science is steadily doing so.
The truths of science are constantly serving the progress of art, and
the more we free the labours of the philosopher and the experimentalist
from the technicalities which are too frequently only retained to give a
false appearance of learning, the more certain will be the advantages to
be derived by the student of beauty from the labours of stern induction.
The union of Vulcan and Venus tends to the diffusion of peace and
happiness.
Although Natural History is found giving its aid to almost every
division of ornamental art, there is one branch of it, Geology, which
has rendered but little service to the artist. Yet here is a vast field,
spread over an earth-wide space and comprehending almost infinite time,
teeming with forms the result of the most varied organizations, which
has scarcely yet been touched. This arises from the circumstance that
the study of organic remains is itself a science of very recent date.
Palæontology is but of yesterday; yet it has achieved important results.
The study of the forms of animal life which existed in the earth
previous to the creation of the present races which inhabit it is
replete with the highest interest. As Astronomy penetrates the
mysteries of space, so Geology pierces the arcana of time. The rock
formations tell of the earth’s mutations, and the remains which they
hold, as histories of former ages, show that the beings which possessed
the earth as a dwelling were as perfectly adapted to their conditions of
existence as any living examples of creative intelligence can be. Nor
were they wanting in beauty. A study of the cabinets of the curious--or
of the metropolitan and many local museums--would at once carry
conviction to the mind, that amidst the host of fossil remains with
which we are now acquainted is to be found a new variety of forms
admirably adapted, by their symmetry and general character, for the
purposes of ornament.
It will be found that stored in the rocks are creations which lived and
breathed ere yet the great mutations had occurred which give to the
earth its present physical features. From the coral-like structures of
the Laurentian rocks--probably the earliest evidences existing of any
organized structure--we may pursue our studies over the infinite variety
of form which the Cambrian and the Silurian rocks preserve, until we
arrive at that period when the Old Red Sandstone sea, teeming with life,
washed the rock of that archipelago which has grown into the British
Isles. Advancing to the study of yet more recent rocks, we may select
the inhabitants of inland seas and the immense savannahs of an early
world, which for delicacy of structure and elegance of design are not to
be surpassed by any of the productions of organic life now existing.
Here, then, is a yet unploughed field from which the art-manufacturer
may cull fresh forms. We can only direct attention to the source, and
give a few illustrations in proof of our assertions: having done this,
we must leave the industrious artist to search for himself in geological
cabinets and palæontological plates for those forms which may suit his
purposes and please his taste. With the exception of two highly
imaginative pictures by John Martin, of “The Country of the Iguanodon,”
illustrating Dr. Mantell’s “Wonders of Geology,” and “The Book of the
Great Sea-Dragons,” by Mr. Thomas Hawkins, in which a realisation of the
condition of the earth during the period when it was the abode of those
monstrous reptiles whose fossilised bones tell the tale of their
ferocity and power, is attempted and ably conceived, art has not
ventured into this abyss of time.
Whether the hydras of superstition or the griffins and dragons which are
preserved in heraldic bearings are dim outshadowings of those ancient
days, preserved like a myth amongst men, it were vain to speculate,
although the speculation is fraught with interest. It is, however,
curious that we find those strange remains of the old world linked to
superstitions which have their origin since the introduction of
Christianity.
It is therefore evident that those remarkable fossil forms must have
excited the wonder of man ere yet science bent to the task of studying
them. The graceful form of the Nautilus, which now enjoys existence in
our tropical seas, is familiar to all. A large variety of molluscous
animals of the same genera have existed through all time; and their
remains found in the fossil state prove them to have been among the
earliest inhabitants of the ancient ocean. In nearly all the rocks of a
limestone character the remains of Ammonites--the ancient
Nautilus--have been found. In the Oolite, the Lias, and the Chalk,
varieties of these elegant shells are constantly discovered, and nearly
three hundred species have been named. From these we select a few, which
will, we think, show that they are well adapted for ornamental purposes.
[Illustration: Fig. 1.]