LECTURE I.

_WHAT IS ILLUSTRATION?_

The craving for pictures, that is, for illustrations, is as old as the

world. The cave-dweller felt it when he scratched on the walls of his

house, or carved the handle of his battle-axe; one there was "who

stayed by the tents with the women, and traced strange devices with a

burnt stick upon the ground." Others painted themselves blue, and

were beautiful; and these were the first illustrators.

The Egyptians were the most prolific, and their works may be found,

monuments more durable than brass, not alone in their places, but

scattered to all the corners of the earth.

From the Egyptians and the Assyrians we may skip, offending but the

archæologist and the pedant, to the illuminators who threw their light

on the Dark Ages. They changed their methods from carving to tracing,

and their mediums from stone and papyrus to parchment and vellum.

But always these illustrations were single works of art, they were not

reproduced, and only duplicated by copying by hand.

Beautiful as are the manuscripts, they play but a small and

unimportant part in the history of illustration, when compared with

the block books that follow them; though block printing is but a

natural evolution from the stamp on the bricks of the Egyptian, or the

painting on the vases of the Etruscan.

The block books, more often loose sheets, were printed from designs,

picture and text, cut on the wood, in one piece, sometimes possibly

engraved in metal. These blocks, being inked, and having sheets of

paper placed on their inked surfaces, and the paper being rubbed, gave

off an impression; as many blocks having to be cut as there were

pages, and as many impressions having to be taken from each block as

there were copies desired. The first of these illustrated blocks is

the St. Christopher, 1423, though playing-cards, produced in the same

way, were known much earlier.

It is only, however, with the invention of printing with movable

types, practised by the Chinese centuries before we ever thought of

it, that illustration, in its modern sense, may be said to have been

created; though printing with movable type is but the cutting up into

separate letters of the pages of the block books. As soon as the

artist was able to make his design upon a block of wood, have that

engraved, and set up in the press with movable type, and print from

it, a new art was discovered.

From the day of Gutenberg and Schœffer, illustration has, in the main,

never changed; new methods have been employed, new processes for

making the blocks have been perfected, but an illustration still

continues to be a design on a wood block or metal plate, so cut,

engraved, or etched as to produce a printing surface from which

impressions may be taken, either in connection with type, when we call

it letterpress or relief printing, or separate from the type, when it

usually becomes intaglio or plate printing.

These methods have undergone, and still are undergoing, incessant

modifications, developments, and improvements; and anyone who wishes

to take up illustration as a profession or a study, must learn the

rudiments of the science, as well as master the great principles of

art, if he wishes to succeed.

To-day, the methods of making the design are many, but the methods of

reproducing it are virtually endless; still one must try to learn

something of the most important, and the more one understands the

requirements of drawing for engraving and printing, the better will be

the results obtained.

In the fifteenth century one had but to design the picture on the side

of a plank, write in the text in reverse, cut everything else away,

wet the block thoroughly, ink the face of it, lay damp paper over it,

and rub or press the back of the sheet of paper till the ink came off

on it, producing a print.

To-day one must understand drawing in all sorts of mediums, know

something of the effect of photographing a drawing on to the wood

block or metal plate, take at least an intelligent interest in

engraving on wood and metal, understand process and lithography, and

be prepared to struggle with that terrible monster, the modern

steam-press, and its slave, the modern printer. To do this

intelligently requires, not only a training in Art, but in the arts

and sciences of engraving, reproduction, printing; and it is to these

arts and sciences that I propose to call your attention.

An illustration--using the term in its artistic sense--is a design

intended to give an artist's idea of an incident, episode, or

topographical site, or it may be but a mere diagram referred to by a

writer; and an illustrator is one who makes pictures or illustrations

which illustrate or explain his own text, or that of another writer.

An illustration really is a work of art, or rather it should be, which

is explanatory; but, as a matter of fact, so too is all graphic art,

explanatory of some story, sentiment, emotion, effect, or fact; and it

would be very difficult indeed to point out when art is not

illustrative.

As the word is used to-day, however, an illustration is a design made

for the purpose of publication in book or magazine or paper. The

fashion of making such designs to accompany lettering or type is, as I

have shown, as old as the art of writing. The art of illustration, or

rather the existence of illustration as a separate craft, and of

illustrators as a distinct body of craftsmen, is virtually the growth

of this century, more properly of the last sixty years since the

invention of illustrated journalism.

Until the other day illustration had no place among the Fine Arts,

and it has been said that, to win renown, an illustrator must achieve

it in some other branch of art.

A few great artists of the past have made illustrations which will be

prized for ever, and to-day these men are spoken of as illustrators;

with Dürer and Holbein it was but one of the many forms of art in

which they excelled, but they were not altogether given up to it.

To-day, however, illustration is the most living and vital of the Fine

Arts, and among its followers are found the most able and eminent of

contemporary artists.

It cannot, however, be said that this prominence which has been so

suddenly thrust upon illustration is altogether due to its increase in

artistic excellence; there are a number of other reasons.

Illustration has indeed reached technically, on the part of artist,

engraver, and printer, such a point of perfection, that it has at

length forced critics and amateurs to give it the attention it has so

long demanded.

More important reasons are the developments in reproduction and

printing, started, and to a great extent carried on, merely to lessen

the cost of production, but capable of giving better and truer results

in the hands of intelligent craftsmen, than anything previously known.

Still, cheapness in reproduction by process, cheapness in the cost of

printing, has enabled numbers of absolutely ignorant people (ignorant,

that is, of art), but possessed of, they think, fine commercial

instincts, to start illustrated papers and publish illustrated books.

The result has been that an army of out-of-works in other fields of

art, of immature or even utterly untrained students, escaping from the

hard labour and drudgery of an art school, ignorant even of the fact

that great illustrators have always studied and worked before they

have found a chance to start, have rushed into illustration. They are

led blindly by the advice of the blind, they find even manuals on the

subject written authoritatively by people who are either not artists,

engravers, or printers, or, if they do pretend to practise any of

these arts and crafts, are unknown and unheard of among the artists

with whom they would rank themselves; and more wonderful still, the

pupils of these blind leaders of the blind find publishers and

printers ignorant enough to employ them; but not so ignorant as to pay

more than the wage of an inferior servant for the worthless work

supplied them.

There are many of these papers, magazines, and books being published

to-day--eminent authors even contribute to their pages; but the

illustrations they contain are more primitive in their depth of

ignorance than the work of the cave-dwellers, and would be equally

valuable to future ages if it were not that they were mainly made up

of an unintelligent cribbing, and stealing from photographs and other

men's work.

Therefore, as a mass, instead of advancing, illustration is sinking

lower and lower, owing to the action of those who pretend to be its

patrons; at the present moment we find ourselves in a critical

situation, good work crowded out by mediocrity--because mediocrity is

cheaper--real artists lost sight of amid the crowd of squirming,

struggling, advertising hacks. Any spark of originality is stamped out

if possible. The mere attempt to say anything in one's own fashion is

a crime, and on all sides the prayer for the extinction of the artist

is heard; after him will go the process man as the commercial wood

engraver has vanished, and then--well, things will take a new start,

good work will be done, and we may as well prepare for the time coming

soon, when cheapness and nastiness, having struggled to the bitter

end, will kill each other for want of something better.

Still, to-day, as good work is being done as ever there was; only

cheapness has to shriek so loud, and advertise so large, to be seen at

all, that people are deafened by the shrieking, and at times the best

is but seen through a glass, darkly. Nevertheless, good art will as

surely live as bad will perish. Let us then endeavour not only to

learn what good work is, but how to do it. In the near future this

will be absolutely necessary. When one sees the greatest artists in

England drawing for penny papers, one realises that illustration is

only apparently in a bad way, that really we are entering upon a

second renaissance, that this is but the dark moment before the dawn.

As a preliminary, and also a final, word to you, I would say, you must

draw, draw, draw first, last, and all the time, and until you can

draw, and draw well, you cannot illustrate.

The study, therefore, of the equipment of the illustrator should be

our aim--what he must do before he can make good illustrations, then,

how he is to make them.

The Illustration of Books A Manual for the Use of Students, Notes for a Course of Lectures at the Slade School, University College · 第 7 / 20 题