In this familiar term in art the importance of the two elements is
suggested in their order.
The effort of the painter is ever in the direction of light. This is his
thought. Shade is a necessity to the expression of it.
Chiaroscuro,—from the Italian, _light obscure,_ in its derivation, gives a
hint of the manufacture of a work of light and shade.
Light is gained by sacrifice. This is one of the first things a student
grasps in the antique class. Given an empty outline he produces an effect
of light by adding darks. So do we get light in the composition of simple
elements, by sacrifice of some one or more, or a mass of them, to the
demands of the lighter parts. “Learn to think in shadows,” says Ruskin.
Rembrandt’s art entire, is the best case in point. A low toned and much
colored white may be made brilliant by dark opposition. The gain to the
color scheme lies in its power to exhibit great light and at the same time
suggest fullness of color.
As we have discussed line and mass composition as balanced over the
central vertical line, so is the question of light and shade best
comprehended, as forces balancing, over a broad _middle tint._ The medium
tint is the most important, both for tone and color. This commands the
distribution of measures in both directions; toward light and toward dark.
Drawings in outline upon tinted paper take on a surprising finish with a
few darks added for shadow and the high lights touched in with chalk or
Chinese white. The method in opaque water color, employed by F. Hopkinson
Smith and others, of working over a tinted paper such as the general tone
of the subject suggests, has its warrant in the early art of the Venetian
painters. If a blue day, a blue gray paper is used; if a mellow day, a
yellow paper.
In pictorial art the science of light and dark is not reducible to working
formulae as in decoration, where the measures of _Notan_ are governed on
the principle of interchange. Through decoration we may touch more
closely the hidden principles of light and shade in pictures than without
the aid of this science, and the artist of decorative knowledge will
always prove able in “effect” in his pictorial work.
With that clear conception of the power of the light and the dark measure
which is acquired in the practice of “spotting” and filling of spaces,
especially upon a middle tint, the problem of bringing into prominence any
item of the picture is simplified upon the decorative basis.
Pictorially the light measure is more attractive than the dark, but the
dark in isolation is nearly as powerful.
With this simple notion in mind the artist proceeds upon his checker-board
opposing force to force.
With him the work can never be as absorbing as to the decorator whose
items are all of about the same value and of recurring kinds. The subject
dictates to the painter who must play more adroitly to secure an effect of
light and shade by the use of devices such as nature offers.
As a matter of _brilliancy of light,_ with which painting is concerned,
the effect is greater when a small measure of light is opposed to a large
measure of dark than when much light is opposed to little dark.
Comparison between Whistler’s “Woman in White,” a white gown relieved
against a white ground, the black of the picture being the woman’s hair,
and any one of the manger scenes of the fifteenth century painters with
their concentration of light will prove how much greater the sense of
light is in the latter.
When much light and little dark produces great brilliancy it is usually by
reason of a gradation in the light, giving it a cumulative power, as is
seen in the sky or upon receding objects on a foggy day. A small dark
added, intensifies the light, not only by contrast of measure, but in
showing the high key of the light measures.
Accents of dark produce such snappiness as is commended by the publisher
who esteems the brilliancy which a rapid interchange of lights and darks
always yields, a sparkle, running through the whole and easily printed.
The works of Mr. Wenzell as a single example of this quality, or of Mr.
Henry Hutt, in lighter key, will be found to gain much of their force from
a very few accents of dark. On the other hand when the work deals with a
medium tone and darks, with few high lights, these gain such importance as
to control the important items.
The value of the middle tint, _when not_ used as the under tone of a
picture is apparent as balancing and distributing the light and dark
measures of objects. When, for instance, these three degrees of tone are
used, if the black and white are brought together and the middle tone
opposed a sense of harmony results. The black and white if mixed would
become a middle tone. We feel the balance of measures without synthesis
or inquiry. Many of the compositions of Tolmouche of two and three female
figures are thus disposed, one figure having a gray dress and one a black
dress and white waist, or a black figure and white are placed together and
opposed to a figure in gray. In Munkacsy’s “Milton Dictating to His
Daughters,” the broad white collar of the poet contrasted with his black
velvet suit, is well balanced and distributed by the medium tones of the
three dresses.
[Fundamental Forms of Chiaroscuro; Whistler’s Portrait of his Mother;
Moorland--E. Yon; Charcoal Study--Millet; The Arbor--Ferrier]
[Fundamental Forms of Chiaroscuro, Continued; Landscape--Geo. Inness; The
Kitchen--Whistler; St. Angela--Robt. Reid; An Annam Tiger--Surrand; The
Shrine--Orchardson; Monastic Life--F. V. DuMond]
An accent is forcible in proportion as its own unit of intensity is
distributed over the space on which it is placed. Take for instance a
picture in India ink of a misty morning wherein the whole landscape may be
produced with a small drop of ink spread in light gradations upon ten by
fourteen inches square. An object in the foreground one by two inches in
which the same measure of black is used will of course possess powerful
attraction. If, however, this measure be expanded the gain in bulk will
be balanced by the loss in intensity. Less attraction for the object is
given either by increasing the intensity of the surrounding tint or
decreasing its extent. In the two pictures by Gerome of lions, the one in
the midst of the vast space of desert obtains its force from its dark
isolated in a large area. In the other picture the emerald green eyes of
the lion are the attraction of the picture, as points of light relieved by
the great measures of dark of the lion, together with the gloom of the
cave.
The message of impressionism is _light,_ as the effort of the early
painters was _to secure light,_ the quest of all the philosophies. The
impressionist calls upon every part of his work to speak of light, the
middle tint, the high lights and the shadow all vibrating with it. From
the decorative point of view alone, the picture, as a surface containing
the greatest amount of beauty of which the subject is capable is more
beautiful when varied by many tones, or by few, _in strong contrast,_ than
when this variety or contrast is wanting. Those decorative designs have
the strongest appeal in which the balancing measures are all well defined.
There are schemes of much dark and little light, or the reverse, or an
even division, and in each case the balance of light and dark is
sustained; for when there is little dark its accenting power is enhanced
and when little light is allowed, it, in the same manner, gains in
attraction. But light and dark every work of art must have; for to think
of light without dark is impossible. When, therefore, the artist begins a
picture his first thought is what is to be the scheme of light and shade?
The direction or source of the light helps a decision. The illumination
of the subject is a study most easily proceeded with by induction, from
particular cases to general conclusions.
[A Reversible Effect of Light and Shade (The Same Subject Vertically and
Horizontally Presented)]
The effectiveness of the first of the two reversible _photographs_ is as
great as the last and the subject as picturesque though it be discovered
that the first is the second placed on end. It is able to satisfy us not
only because of the happy coincidence that the leaves upon the bridge
represent bark texture and the subdued light upon its near end creates the
rotundity of the trunk or that a distant tree serves as the horizontal
margin of a pool, but because its light and shade is conceived upon the
terms of balance expressing in either position one of the fundamental
forms of light and shade and lineal construction, that of the rectangle in
either light or dark together with an oppositional measure—the light
through the distant trees.
With the history of art and the world’s gallery of painting spread out
before us, we may take a continuous view of the whole field. Leaving out
the painters of the experimental era let us begin with the great masters
of effect.
Sir Joshua Reynolds tells us it was his habit in looking for the secrets
of the masters of painting to make rough pencil notes of those pictures
that attracted him by their power of effect as he passed from one gallery
to another. He found almost all of them revealed a broad middle tone
which was divided again into half dark and half light tones, and these,
added to the accents of light and dark _made five distinct tones._ The
Venetian painters attracted him most and, he says, speaking of Titian,
Paul Veronese and Tintoret, “they appeared to be the first painters who
reduced to a system what was before practised without any fixed
principle.” From these painters he declares Rubens extracted his scheme of
composition which was soon understood and adopted by his countrymen, even
to the minor painters of low life in the Dutch school.
“When I was in Venice,” he says, “the method I took to avail myself of
their principle was this: When I observed an extraordinary effect of light
and shade in any picture I darkened every part of a page in my note-book
in the same gradation of light and shade as the picture, leaving the white
paper untouched to represent light and this without any attention to the
subject or the drawing of the figures. A few trials of this kind will be
sufficient to give the method of their conduct in the management of their
lights. After a few experiments I found the paper blotted nearly alike:
their general practice appeared to be _to allow not above a quarter of the
picture for light, including in this portion both the principal and
secondary lights; another quarter to be as dark as possible and the
remaining half kept in mezzo-tint or half shadow._”
“Rubens appears to have admitted rather more light than a quarter and
Rembrandt much less, scarce an eighth; by this conduct Rembrandt’s light
is extremely brilliant, but it costs too much; the rest of the picture is
sacrificed to this one object. That light will certainly appear the
brightest which is surrounded with the greatest quantity of shade,
supposing equal skill in the artist.”
“By this means you may likewise remark the various forms and shapes of
those lights as well as the objects on which they are flung; whether a
figure, or the sky, a white napkin, animals, or utensils, often introduced
for this purpose only. It may be observed likewise, what a portion is
strongly relieved and how much is united with its ground; for it is
necessary that some part (though a small one is sufficient) should be
sharp and cutting against its ground whether it be light on dark, or dark
on a light ground, in order to give firmness and distinctness to the work.
If, on the other hand, it is relieved on every side, it will appear as if
inlaid on its ground.”
“Such a blotted paper held at a distance from the eye would strike the
spectator as something excellent for the disposition of the light and
shadow though he does not distinguish whether it is history, a portrait, a
landscape, dead game, or anything else; for the same principles extend to
every branch of art. Whether I have given an exact account or made a just
division of the quantity of light admitted into the works of those
painters is of no very great consequence; let every person examine and
judge for himself: it will be sufficient if I have suggested _a mode of
examining pictures this way and one means at least of acquiring the
principles on which they wrought._”
The accompanying page of sketches has been produced in the spirit of this
recommendation.
Turning from examples of figure art, to outdoor nature, it will be found
that these principles apply with equal force to landscape composition. No
better advice could be offered the beginner in landscape than to
resolutely select and produce three, four or five distinct and separate
tones in every study. The incoherency of beginner’s work out of doors is
largely due to its crumbling into a great number of petty planes, a fault
resulting from observation of detail instead of the larger shapes. For
this reason the choice of subjects having little or no detail should be
insisted on: sky and land, a chance for organic line and a division of
light and shade, such as may be found in an open, rolling country where
the woodland is grouped for distant masses.
PRINCIPALITY BY EMPHASIS, SACRIFICE, AND CONTRAST.
Under the discussion of Balance it was shown that a small measure often
became the equivalent of a larger measure by reason of its particular
placement. The sacrifice of many measures to one, also is often the
wisest disposition of forces. Upon the stage, spectacular arrangement is
constructed almost entirely on this principle. The greater the number of
figures supporting, or sacrificing to the central figure, the greater its
importance. The sun setting over fields or through the woods though
covering but a very limited measure of the picture is what we see and
remember, the remaining space serving this by subordination. Note how
masters of landscape reach after such a point either by banking up
abruptly about it as in the wood interior, or by vast gradations toward
it. The muzzle of the cannon is the only place where the fire and smoke
are seen, but how much weight is necessitated back of this for the recoil,
and how much space must be reckoned on for the projectile of the gun. A
terrific explosion takes place; but we do not realize its power until it
is noted that sound reverberated and the earth trembled for miles around.
For its full realization the report of the quiet miles is important. The
lack of this support in the light and shade scheme, whereby the principal
object is made to occupy too much space is one of the commonest of faults
in photography and illustration.
One familiar with woodland scenery knows well how often a subject is lost
and found as the sun changes in its course. At one moment a striking
composition is present, the highest light giving kingly distinction to one
of the monarchs of the forest. Passing on to return in a few minutes one
looks in vain for the subject. He is sure of the particular spot, but the
king stands sullen in the shadow, robbed of his golden mantle which is now
divided to bedeck two or three striplings in the background. For the
painter the only recourse is to make a pencil note of the original scheme
of light and shade and hold resolutely to it. The photographer must
patiently wait for it.
Says Reynolds:
“Every man that can paint at all can execute individual parts; but to keep
these parts in due subordination as relative to a whole, requires a
comprehensive view of art that more strongly implies genius than perhaps
any quality whatever.”(13)
No more forcible examples of this truth may be had than the art of Claude
Lorraine. Claude whose nature painting Ruskin berates but whose
composition is strong, had two distinct arrangements, both based on the
principle of Principality. In the first he created sides for the centre
which were darkened so that the light of the centre might gain by
contrast. It is the formal Raphaelesque idea; the other and much better
one shows a division of the picture into thirds. The first division is
given to the largest mass but usually not the most important. This, if
trees or a building, is shadow covered, reserving the more distant mass,
which is the most attractive, to gain by the sacrifice of the foreground
mass.
[Spots and Masses; Note-book sketches from Rubens, Velasquez, Claude
Lorrain and Murillo]
The first of these forms was evidently most esteemed by Claude, for his
greatest works are thus conceived: “Cleopatra Landing at Tarsus,” _“__The
Embarkation of the Queen of Sheba,__”_. “The Flight into Egypt,” “St.
Paul leaving Ostia,” “The Seaport with the Large Tower” and others. In
all of these the light proceeds toward us through an avenue which the
sides create. Under this effect we receive the light as it comes to us.
In the other form the vision is carried into the picture by a series of
mass attractions the balance being less apparent. “The Landscape of the
Dresden Gallery,” “The Marriage of Isaac and Rebecca,” “The Finding of
Moses,” “Egeria and Her Nymphs,” and “Driving Cattle to the Meadows,”
together with many etchings, are based on the second form. In all these
about one third of the picture is put into shadow, a great right angle
being constructed of the vertical mass and the shadow which it casts,
generally across the entire foreground.
[Death of Caesar--Gerome; The Travel of the Soul--After Howard Pyle]
In _“__The Travel of the Soul__”_ by Howard Pyle, reproduced from the
_Century Magazine,_ is remarkably expressed the fullness of quality
resulting from these few principles. The force of the light is increased
first by juxtaposition with the deepest dark merging so gradually into the
darkness behind as to become the end or culmination of the great gradation
of the background. As in many works by the older masters the source of
light is conceived within the picture, so by its issuance from the inward
of the wing, the valuable principle of radiation has resulted, the light
passing upward through the wan face behind to the crescent moon and below
through the sleeve and long fold of the dress to the ground. On the side
it follows the arm disappearing through the fingers into the shadow.
Beyond this circuit lies the great encasement of another gradation
darkening toward the sides and corners. This has been interrupted by the
tree masses and sky of the upper side, as the idea of radiation was
changed on the left by the oppositional line of branch forms. In the
other pictures of this remarkable series may be found three distinct type
forms of composition.
Together they set forth the structure of the circle or ellipse, the letter
S or line of beauty, the triangle, and the cross. The one before us
discloses a triangle or letter V, on which the figures compose, within a
triangle formed of the rock fracture and path.
It must be remembered that the effort of the artist is to secure light _in
the degree_ which his subject demands. There are many degrees of light
and they must not be confounded. The light of a lantern is not sufficient
illumination for an effect under gas and a window on the north side won’t
do to call sunlight into a room upon a posed figure. The fault of many
pictures is that the proprieties just here are violated. Some of the
lowest toned interiors of Israels are satisfactory when judged from the
standpoint of light, while out of door attempts in high key fail to
suggest the fact of a sun in nature. The fault is that _the exact degree_
of illumination which the subject demands is not present.
There may be a greater feeling of light in a figure sitting in the shadow
than in the same figure next to a window.
To the painter, light and air are but degrees of the same idea. If the
figure seated in the shadow is well enveloped and relieved by the exact
temper of reflected lights, it takes its place in his scheme of brilliant
lighting as much as any other part.
The purpose of shadow is first to produce light, second to secure
concentration, third to dismiss space not required and incidentally to
suggest air and relief by the gradation which every shadow must have.
The idea of _Notan,_ or the Light and Dark combination of Japanese art,
differs from this in its intent, which is merely to set forth an agreeable
interchange of light, dark and medium toned spaces. To the decorative
intentions of the oriental artist natural fact is of small concern and the
fact of shade produced by light is dismissed as are many other notions
which are non-conformable to his purpose. The great value of this
concept, however, should be recognized, and in formulating a scheme of
light and shade for any picture its light and dark masses may be so
arranged as to suggest much of the beauty which its flat translation by
Notan would yield. The practice of laying out the flat light and dark
scheme of every picture which is to be finished in full relief is
therefore most helpful, and directly in line with Sir Joshua’s habit with
the old masters.
It is not sufficient that pictures have lights and darks. The balance
here is quite as important as line and measure. The proportion of light
to dark depends on the importance required by certain parts of the
picture. Effectiveness is given to that end of the scale which is
_reserved in small quantity._ The white spot attracts in the _“__Dead
Warrior,__”_ the dark spot in the _“__Lion of the Desert.__”_ A
comparison of the _“__Night Watch__”_ and the _“__Landscape__”_ by Inness
will show that both are constructed on a medium tone on which strong
relief is secured by contrasts of light and dark. Isolated spots occur
through each contributing an energy opposed to the subtle gradations of
the large spaces. The rich depths of the background and the frequent
opposition of shadow with light in the landscape are very typical of
Inness’ art and we know that the “Night Watch” contains the best thought
and richest conclusions of the greatest master of light and shade.
The type forms in light and shade are less pronounced than those of linear
construction, though through all compositions of effect, certain well
defined schemes of chiaroscuro are traceable. As soon as any one is
selected it rests with the artist to vary its conventional structure and
make it original.
Lack of a well-defined scheme of light and dark however, is ruinous to any
pictorial or decorative undertaking.
The accompanying wood interiors are introduced in proof that light and
shade rather than form is the pictorial element of greatest value. In
both pictures the principles of chiaroscuro are strongly expressed, and we
look closely before discovering that the first one is the second placed on
end.
Analysis of pictures into light, dark, and halftone develops the following
forms.
GRADATION
Light being the happy and positive side of art presentation, any form or
modification of it partakes of its quality. The gradation bespeaks its
tenderness, and, much as we may admire light’s power, this, by its mere
variety, is more attractive.
We well endure the shadow if in it can be noticed a movement toward the
light. Technically, an ungraded shadow means mud. One in which
reflection plays a part speaks of the life of light and in it we feel that
promise. We know it to be on its travels, glancing and refracting from
every object which it touches. The shadows which it cannot penetrate
directly, receive its gracious influence in this way and always under a
subtler law which governs its direct shining—by gradation.
Most good pictures are produced in the medium range and the ends of the
scale are reserved for incisive duty. A series of gradations in which the
grace and flow of line and tone are made to serve the forcible stroke
which we see, presents a combination of subtlety and strength. Again the
art of Inness affords illustration.
There are three forms of this _quality:_ that in which light shows a
gradual diminution of power, as seen upon a wall near a window, or in
white smoke issuing from a funnel; that in which the color or force of a
group of objects weaken as they recede, as may be observed in fog; and
that in which the arrangement secures, in disconnected objects a regular
succession of graded measures. In each case the pictorial value of this
element is apparent. The landscape painter may avail himself of it as the
figure painter does of his screen, counting on the cloud shadow to temper
and unite disjointed items of his picture. He makes use of it where
leading lines are wanting or are undesirable, or to give an additional
accent to light by such contrast or to introduce a note of dark by
suppressing the tone of an isolated object. Gradation is the sweetening
touch in art, ofttimes making unity of discordant and unartful elements.
The vision will pierce the shadow to find the light beyond. It will dwell
longest on the lightest point and believe this more brilliant than it is
if opposed by an accent of dark which is the lowest note in a dark
gradation.
Turner and Claude often brought the highest light and deepest dark
together in close opposition through a series of big gradations of
objects, the most light-giving device known in painting. The introduction
of a shadow through the foreground or middle distance, over which the
vision travels to the light beyond, always gives great depth; another of
the devices in landscape painting frequently met with in the work of
Claude, Ruysdael, Corot, Vandevelde, Cuyp, Inness, Wyant, Ranger, and all
painters of landscape who attain light by the use of a graded scale of
contrasts. A cumulative gradation which suddenly stops has the same force
in light and shade as a long line which suddenly changes into a short line
of opposed direction. They are both equivalent to a pause in music,
awakening an attention at such a point, and only to be employed where
there is something important to follow.
EQUIVALENTS
It is the experience of all picture makers that under the limitations
which special subjects impose they are often obliged to search for an
equivalent with which to comply with the requirements of composition.
If, for instance, in the arrangement of a picture it is found necessary to
move an object—a tree, figure or other item of importance, instead of
obliteration and repainting, the result is attained by creating an
attraction on the side from which it is to be moved.
By so doing the range of the picture is increased and its space seems to
take in more than its limits presupposed: If an isolated tree standing
against a mass of trees, by opening the sky through that mass or by
creating attraction of color or form therein, the vision is led to the far
side of the object to be moved, which is thereby crowded out of its
position in the balancing scheme.
An object upon a surface may frequently give place to a dark or light
variation of the surface itself which becomes an equivalent of attraction.
Several objects may be made to balance without rearrangement though the
marginal proportions of the picture are altered. The _ship and moon_
compose as an upright, but not in long shape without either the following
line which indicates the ship’s course; or an object of attraction in the
opposing half either in the distance or foreground, much less being
required in the latter than the former. The equivalent therefore of the
leading line is the object on the farther shore.
The necessity of either the one or the other is more clearly shown when
the line from the boat swings in the opposite direction.
An object may be rendered less important by surrounding it with objects of
its own kind and color.
An abrupt change in the direction of a line may have attraction equal to
an object on that line.
With two spaces of equal size, importance may be given to one of them by
increasing its light; by using leading lines toward it, by placing an
accent upon it, by creating a gradation in it.
Spots often become the equivalent of lines in their attractive value.
A series of oppositional lines has more picturesqueness than the tangent,
its equivalent.
A gradation may have the equivalent attraction of an object.
A line in its continuity is more attractive than a succession of isolated
objects.
The attractive value of an object in the scale of balance may be weakened
by moving it toward the centre or extending the picture on that side.
Motion toward, either in intention or by action, is equivalent to
balancing weight in that space of the picture to which the action is
directed.
Light is increased by deepening contiguous tones; dark, by heightening
contiguous tones.
A still-life may be constructed on the same lines as any form on the
vertical plane and many of the perspective plane of composition. See
_Fundamental Forms_.