Botticelli has first the long line of the horizon echoed in the ground

at the right-hand lower corner. And then he has made a determined stand

against the flow of lines carrying you out of the picture on the right,

by putting straight, upright trees and insisting upon their

straightness.

[Illustration: Diagram XVI.

ILLUSTRATING SOME OF THE MAIN LINES ON WHICH THE RHYTHMIC UNITY OF THIS

PICTURE DEPENDS.]

[Illustration: Plate XXXVIII.

THE RAPE OF EUROPA. BY PAOLO VERONESE (VENICE)

A composition of rich full forms and rich full colour. (See the diagram

on opposite page for analysis of line rhythm.)

_Photo Anderson_]

Another rhythmic form the lines at the basis of a composition may take

is a flame-like flow of lines; curved lines meeting and parting and

meeting again, or even crossing in one continual movement onwards. A

striking instance of the use of this quality is the work of the

remarkable Spanish painter usually called El Greco, two of whose works

are here shown (page 172 [Transcribers Note: Plate XL]). Whatever may

be said by the academically minded as to the incorrectness of his

drawing, there can be no two opinions as to the remarkable rhythmic

vitality of his work. The upward flow of his lines and the flame-like

flicker of his light masses thrills one in much the same way as watching

a flaring fire. There is something exalting and stimulating in it,

although, used to excess as he sometimes uses it, it is apt to suffer

from lack of repose. Two examples of his pictures are reproduced here,

and illustrate his use of this form of movement in the lines and masses

of his compositions. Nowhere does he let the eye rest, but keeps the

same flickering movement going throughout all his masses and edges. The

extraordinary thing about this remarkable painter is that while this

restless, unrestrained form of composition makes his work akin to the

rococo work of a later period, there is a fiery earnestness and

sincerity in all he does, only to be matched among the primitive

painters of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and very different

from the false sentiment of the later school.

Blake was also fond of this flame line, but usually used it in

combination with more straight lines than the energetic Spaniard allowed

himself. Plates III and V in the Job series are good examples of his use

of this form. In both cases it will be seen that he uses it in

combination with the steadying influence of straight lines, which help

to keep the balance and repose necessary in the treatment of even the

most violent subjects in art.

A continual interruption in the flow of lines, and a harsh jarring

of one against another in an angular, jagged fashion, produces a feeling

of terror and horror. A streak of fork lightning is a natural example of

this. The plate of Blake's No. XI, p. 148 [Transcribers Note: Plate

XXXII], reproduced here, is also a good example. I have had it put

sideways on so that you may see that the look of horror is not only in

the subject but belongs to the particular music of line in the picture.

The effect of the harsh contrasts in the lines is further added to by

the harsh contrasts of tone: everywhere hard lights are brought up

against hard darks. Harsh contrasts of tone produce much the same look

of terror as harsh contrasts of line. Battle pictures are usually, when

good, full of these clashes of line and tone, and thrilling dramatic

effects in which a touch of horror enters are usually founded on the

same principle. In the picture by Paolo Uccello in the National Gallery,

reproduced on page 170 [Transcribers Note: Plate XXXIX], a milder

edition of this effect is seen. The artist has been more interested in

the pageantry of war and a desire to show off his newly-acquired

knowledge of perspective, than anything very terrible. The contrasts of

line are here but confined to the smaller parts, and there are no

contrasts of light and shade, chiaroscuro not being yet invented.

However, it will be seen by the accompanying diagram how consistently

the harsh contrasts of line were carried out in the planning of this

picture. Notice the unconscious humour of the foreshortened spears and

figure carefully arranged on the ground to vanish to the recently

discovered vanishing point.

[Illustration: Diagram XVII.

SHOWING THE CLASH OF LINES IN SYMPATHY WITH THE MARTIAL NATURE OF THIS

SUBJECT.]

[Illustration: Plate XXXIX.

BATTLE OF ST. EGIDIO. PAOLO UCCELLO (NATIONAL GALLERY)

Illustrating the effect of jarring lines in composition. (See diagram on

opposite page.)

_Photo Morelli_]

* * * * *

Lines radiating in smooth curves from a common centre are another form

employed to give unity in pictorial design. The point from which they

radiate need not necessarily be within the picture, and is often

considerably outside it. But the feeling that they would meet if

produced gives them a unity that brings them into harmonious

relationship.

There is also another point about radiating lines, and that is their

power of setting up a relationship between lines otherwise unrelated.

Let us try and explain this. In Panel A, page 174 [Transcribers Note:

Diagram XVIII], are drawn some lines at random, with the idea of their

being as little related to each other as possible. In B, by the

introduction of radiating lines in sympathy with them, they have been

brought into some sort of relationship. The line 1-2 has been selected

as the dominating line, and an assortment of radiating ones drawn about

it. Now, by drawing 7-8, we have set up a relationship between lines

3-4, 5-6, and 1-2, for this line radiates with all of them. Line 9-10

accentuates this relationship with 1-2. The others echo the same thing.

It is this echoing of lines through a composition that unites the

different parts and gives unity to the whole.

The crossing of lines at angles approaching the right angle is always

harsh and somewhat discordant, useful when you want to draw attention

dramatically to a particular spot, but to be avoided or covered up at

other times. There is an ugly clash of crossing lines in our original

scribble, and at C we have introduced a mass to cover this up, and also

the angles made by line 3-4 as it crosses the radiating lines above 1-2.

With a small mass at 11 to make the balance right, you have a basis for

a composition, Diagram C, not at all unpleasing in arrangement, although

based on a group of discordant lines drawn at random, but brought into

harmony by means of sympathetic radiation.

[Illustration: Plate XL.

THE ASCENSION OF CHRIST. BY DOMINICO THEOTOCOPULI CALLED EL GRECO.

Note the flame-like form and flow of the light masses, and the exalted

feeling this conveys.

_Photo Anderson_]

[Illustration: Plate XLI.

THE BAPTISM OF CHRIST. BY DOMINICO THEOTOCOPULI CALLED EL GRECO

Another example of his restless, flame-like composition.

_Photo Anderson_]

In Panel D the same group is taken, but this time line 3-4 is used as

the dominant one. Line 7-8 introduces 3-4 to 1-2, as it is related to

both. Lines 9-10 and 11-12 introduce 3-4 to 5-6, as they are related to

both, and the others follow on the same principle. By introducing some

masses covering up the crossings, a rhythmic basis for a composition

(Diagram E) entirely different from C is obtained, based on the same

random group.

In Panel F, 1-2 has been taken as the dominant line, and sympathetic

lines drawn on the same principle as before. By again covering the

crossings and introducing balancing masses we obtain yet another

arrangement from the same random scribble.

I would suggest this as a new game to students, one giving another two

or three lines drawn in a panel at random, the problem being to make

harmonious arrangements by the introduction of others radiating in

sympathy.

Often in a picture certain conditions are laid down to start with;

something as ugly as our original group of lines drawn at random has to

be treated pictorially, and it is by means such as here suggested that

its discordancy can be subdued and the whole brought into harmony with

the shape of your panel. The same principles apply in colour, discordant

notes can be brought into harmony by the introduction of others related

to both the original colours, thus leading the eye from one to the other

by easy stages and destroying the shock. Somewhat in the way a musician

will take you from one key into another very remote by means of a few

chords leading from the one to the other; whereas, had he taken you

straight there, the shock would have been terrible. As it is, these

transitions from one key into another please and surprise one, and are

very effective.

[Illustration: Diagram XVIII.

SHOWING HOW LINES UNRELATED CAN BE BROUGHT INTO HARMONY BY THE

INTRODUCTION OF OTHERS IN SYMPATHY WITH THEM.

A. LINES DRAWN AT RANDOM.

B. TAKING LINE 1-2 AS DOMINANT LINE.

C. AS AT B BUT WITH ADDITION OF MASSES TO COVER LINES CROSSING AND

RESTORE BALANCE

D. TAKING LINE 3-4 AS DOMINANT LINE

E. AS AT D BUT WITH ADDITION OF MASSES TO COVER LINES CROSSING AND GIVE

BALANCE

F. TAKING LINE 5-6 AS DOMINANT LINE

G. AS AT F BUT WITH MASSES TO COVER LINES CROSSING & TO GIVE BALANCE]

[Illustration: Diagram XIX.

SHOWING HOW LINES UNRELATED CAN BE BROUGHT INTO HARMONY BY THE

INTRODUCTION OF OTHERS IN SYMPATHY WITH THEM.

H. LINES DRAWN AT RANDOM.

I. LINES DRAWN AT RANDOM.

J. ADDITIONAL LINES DRAWN TO RELATE ORIGINAL LINES AND BRING THE WHOLE

INTO HARMONY TAKING LINE 1-2, AS DOMINANT.

K. ADDITIONAL LINES DRAWN TO RELATE ORIGINAL LINES TAKING 1-2 AS

DOMINANT.

L. THE SAME AS J WITH ADDITION OF MASSES TO COVER CROSSING OF LINES.

M. THE SAME AS AT K WITH ADDITION OF MASSES TO COVER CROSSING LINES.]

In H, I have introduced a straight line into our initial scribble, and

this somewhat increases the difficulties of relating them. But by

drawing 7-8 and 9-10 radiating from 1-2, we have introduced this

straight line to 5-6. For although 5-6 and 9-10 do not radiate from the

same point, they are obviously in sympathy. It is only a short part of

the line at the end marked 5 that is out of sympathy, and had 5-6 taken

the course of the dotted line, it would have radiated from the same

point as 9-10. We still have line 3-4 to account for. But by drawing

11-12 we bring it into relationship with 5-6, and so by stages through

9-10 and 7-8 to the original straight line 1-2. Line 13-14, by being

related to 3-4, 11-12, and also 5-6, still further harmonises the group,

and the remainder echo 5-6 and increase the dominant swing. At L masses

have been introduced, covering crossing lines, and we have a basis for a

composition.

In Diagram I lines have been drawn as before, at random, but two of them

are straight and at right angles, the longer being across the-centre of

the panel. The first thing to do is to trick the eye out of knowing that

this line is in the centre by drawing others parallel to it, leading the

eye downwards to line 9-10, which is now much more important than 1-2

and in better proportion with the height of the panel. The vertical line

3-4 is rather stark and lonely, and so we' introduce two more verticals

at 11-12 and 13-14, which modify this, and with another two lines in

sympathy with 5-6 and leading the eye back to the horizontal top of the

panel, some sort of unity is set up, the introduction of some masses

completing the scheme at M.

There is a quality of sympathy set up by certain line relationships

about which it is important to say something. Ladies who have the

instinct for choosing a hat or doing their hair to suit their face

instinctively know something of this; know that certain things in their

face are emphasised by certain forms in their hats or hair, and the care

that has to be taken to see that the things thus drawn attention to are

their best and not their worst points.

The principle is more generally understood in relation to colour;

everybody knows how the blueness of blue eyes is emphasised by a

sympathetic blue dress or touch of blue on a hat, &c. But the same

principle applies to lines. The qualities of line in beautiful eyes and

eyebrows are emphasised by the long sympathetic curve of a picture hat,

and the becoming effect of a necklace is partly due to the same cause,

the lines being in sympathy with the eyes or the oval of the face,

according to how low or high they hang. The influence of long lines is

thus to "pick out" from among the lines of a face those with which they

are in sympathy, and thus to accentuate them.

To illustrate this, on page 178 [Transcribers Note: Plate XLII] is

reproduced "The Portrait of the Artist's Daughter," by Sir Edward

Burne-Jones.

The two things that are brought out by the line arrangement in this

portrait are the beauty of the eyes and the shape of the face. Instead

of the picture hat you have the mirror, the widening circles of which

swing round in sympathy with the eyes and concentrate the attention on

them. That on the left (looking at the picture) being nearest the

centre, has the greatest attention concentrated upon it, the lines of

the mirror being more in sympathy with this than the other eye, as it is

nearer the centre. If you care to take the trouble, cut a hole in a

piece of opaque paper the size of the head and placing it over the

illustration look at the face without the influence of these outside

lines; and note how much more equally divided the attention is between

the two eyes without the emphasis given to the one by the mirror. This

helps the unity of impression, which with both eyes realised to so

intense a focus might have suffered. This mirror forms a sort of echo of

the pupil of the eye with its reflection of the window in the left-hand

corner corresponding to the high light, greatly helping the spell these

eyes hold.

[Illustration: Diagram XX.

INDICATING THE SYMPATHETIC FLOW OF LINES THAT GIVE UNITY TO THIS

COMPOSITION.]

[Illustration: Plate XLII.

PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST'S DAUGHTER SIR EDWARD BURNE-JONES, BART.

An example of sympathetic rhythm. (See diagram on opposite page.)

_Photo Hollyer_]

The other form accentuated by the line arrangement is the oval of the

face. There is the necklace the lines of which lead on to those on the

right in the reflection. It is no mere accident that this chain is so in

sympathy with the line of the face: it would hardly have remained where

it is for long, and must have been put in this position by the artist

with the intention (conscious or instinctive) of accentuating the face

line. The line of the reflection on the left and the lines of the mirror

are also sympathetic. Others in the folds of the dress, and those

forming the mass of the hands and arms, echo still further this line of

the face and bring the whole canvas into intense sympathetic unity of

expression.

The influence that different ways of doing the hair may have on a face

is illustrated in the accompanying scribbles. The two profiles are

exactly alike--I took great trouble to make them so. It is quite

remarkable the difference the two ways of doing the hair make to the

look of the faces. The upward swing of the lines in A sympathise with

the line of the nose and the sharper projections of the face generally

(see dotted lines), while the full downward curves of B sympathise with

the fuller curves of the face and particularly emphasise the fullness

under the chin so dreaded by beauty past its first youth (see dotted

lines). It is only a very sharply-cut face that can stand this low knot

at the back of the head, in which case it is one of the simplest and

most beautiful ways of doing the hair. The hair dragged up high at the

back sharpens the lines of the profile as the low knot blunts them.

[Illustration: Diagram XXI.

ILLUSTRATING THE EFFECT ON THE FACE OF PUTTING THE HAIR UP AT THE BACK.

HOW THE UPWARD FLOW OF LINES ACCENTUATES THE SHARPNESSES OF THE

FEATURES.]

[Illustration: Diagram XXII.

ILLUSTRATING THE EFFECT ON THE SAME FACE AS DIAGRAM XXI, OF PUTTING THE

HAIR LOW AT THE BACK. HOW THE FULLER LINES THUS GIVEN ACCENTUATE THE

FULLNESSES OF THE FEATURES.]

The illustrations to this chapter have been drawn in diagrammatical form

in order to try and show that the musical quality of lines and the

emotions they are capable of calling up are not dependent upon truth to

natural forms but are inherent in abstract arrangements themselves. That

is to say, whenever you get certain arrangements of lines, no matter

what the objects in nature may be that yield them, you will always get

the particular emotional stimulus belonging to such arrangements. For

instance, whenever you get long uninterrupted horizontal lines running

through a picture not opposed by any violent contrast, you will always

get an impression of intense quiet and repose; no matter whether the

natural objects yielding these lines are a wide stretch of country with

long horizontal clouds in the sky, a pool with a gentle breeze making

horizontal bars on its surface, or a pile of wood in a timber yard. And

whenever you get long vertical lines in a composition, no matter whether

it be a cathedral interior, a pine forest, or a row of scaffold poles,

you will always have the particular feeling associated with rows of

vertical lines in the abstract. And further, whenever you get the

swinging lines of the volute, an impression of energy will be conveyed,

no matter whether it be a breaking wave, rolling clouds, whirling dust,

or only a mass of tangled hoop iron in a wheelwright's yard. As was said

above, these effects may be greatly increased, modified, or even

destroyed by associations connected with the things represented. If in

painting the timber yard the artist is thinking more about making it

look like a stack of real wood with its commercial associations and

less about using the artistic material its appearance presents for the

making of a picture, he may miss the harmonic impression the long lines

of the stacks of wood present. If real wood is the first thing you are

led to think of in looking at his work, he will obviously have missed

the expression of any artistic feeling the subject was capable of

producing. And the same may be said of the scaffold poles or the hoop

iron in the wheelwright's yard.

This structure of abstract lines at the basis of a picture will be more

or less overlaid with the truths of nature, and all the rich variety of

natural forms, according to the requirements of the subject. Thus, in

large decorative work, where the painting has to take its place as part

of an architectural scheme, the severity of this skeleton will be

necessary to unite the work to the architectural forms around it, of

which it has to form a part; and very little indulgence in the

realisation of natural truth should be permitted to obscure it. But in

the painting of a small cabinet picture that exists for close

inspection, the supporting power of this line basis is not nearly so

essential, and a full indulgence in all the rich variety of natural

detail is permissible. And this is how it happens that painters who have

gloried in rich details have always painted small pictures, and painters

who have preferred larger truths pictures of bigger dimensions. It

sounds rather paradoxical to say the smaller the picture the more detail

it should contain, and the larger the less, but it is nevertheless true.

For although a large picture has not of necessity got to be part of an

architectural scheme, it has to be looked at from a distance at which

small detail could not be seen, and where such detail would greatly

weaken its expressive power. And further, the small picture easily

comes within the field of vision, and the whole impression can be

readily grasped without the main lines being, as it were, underlined.

But in a big picture one of the greatest difficulties is to get it to

read simply, to strike the eye as one impression. Its size making it

difficult for it to be got comfortably within the field of vision, every

artifice has to be used to give it "breadth of treatment," as it is

called, and nothing interferes with this like detail.

XIII

VARIETY OF MASS

The masses that go to make up a picture have variety in their #shape#,

their #tone values#, their #edges#, in #texture# _or_ #quality#, and in

#gradation#. Quite a formidable list, but each of these particulars has

some rhythmic quality of its own about which it will be necessary to say

a word.

[Sidenote: Variety of Shape.]

As to variety of shape, many things that were said about lines apply

equally to the spaces enclosed by them. It is impossible to write of the

rhythmic possibilities that the infinite variety of shapes possessed by

natural objects contain, except to point out how necessary the study of

nature is for this. Variety of shape is one of the most difficult things

to invent, and one of the commonest things in nature. However

imaginative your conception, and no matter how far you may carry your

design, working from imagination, there will come a time when studies

from nature will be necessary if your work is to have the variety that

will give life and interest. Try and draw from imagination a row of elm

trees of about the same height and distance apart, and get the variety

of nature into them; and you will see how difficult it is to invent. On

examining your work you will probably discover two or three pet forms

repeated, or there may be only one. Or try and draw some cumulus clouds

from imagination, several groups of them across a sky, and you will

find how often again you have repeated unconsciously the same forms. How

tired one gets of the pet cloud or tree of a painter who does not often

consult nature in his pictures. Nature is the great storehouse of

variety; even a piece of coal will suggest more interesting rock-forms

than you can invent. And it is fascinating to watch the infinite variety

of graceful forms assumed by the curling smoke from a cigarette, full of

suggestions for beautiful line arrangements. If this variety of form in

your work is allowed to become excessive it will overpower the unity of

your conception. It is in the larger unity of your composition that the

imaginative faculty will be wanted, and variety in your forms should

always be subordinated to this idea.

Nature does not so readily suggest a scheme of unity, for the simple

reason that the first condition of your picture, the four bounding

lines, does not exist in nature. You may get infinite suggestions for

arrangements, and should always be on the look out for them, but your

imagination will have to relate them to the rigorous conditions of your

four bounding lines, and nature does not help you much here. But when

variety in the forms is wanted, she is pre-eminent, and it is never

advisable to waste inventive power where it is so unnecessary.

But although nature does not readily suggest a design fitting the

conditions of a panel her tendency is always towards unity of

arrangement. If you take a bunch of flowers or leaves and haphazard

stuff them into a vase of water, you will probably get a very chaotic

arrangement. But if you leave it for some time and let nature have a

chance you will find that the leaves and flowers have arranged

themselves much more harmoniously. And if you cut down one of a group of

trees, what a harsh discordant gap is usually left; but in time nature

will, by throwing a bough here and filling up a gap there, as far as

possible rectify matters and bring all into unity again. I am prepared

to be told this has nothing to do with beauty but is only the result of

nature's attempts to seek for light and air. But whatever be the

physical cause, the fact is the same, that nature's laws tend to

pictorial unity of arrangement.

[Sidenote: Variety of Tone Values]

The Practice and Science of Drawing · 第 10 / 17 段