The famous Campo Santo at Pisa, and the frescoes in the town hall of

Siena are fine instances of the days when mural painting was a living

and popular art, frankly appealing to the love of story and romance,

vivid, dramatic, and yet superbly decorative. Superior modern critics

might scorn such types of art as "literary," and their _naïveté_ as

"childish"; but their story-telling power is an inseparable part of

their artistic form, and never oversteps it, just as their decorative

instinct is in perfect accord and harmony with their architectural

conditions.

This was long before the days of academies and art schools, when there

was no technical art education outside the workshop, no competitive

examinations, and a man learnt his craft by apprenticeship to it,

beginning at the beginning, under a master craftsman.

I fail to see how any art can be wholly taught or learned on general

principles, since it is of the nature of art to address itself to

particular problems, the conditions of which constantly vary. Certain

general principles have been evolved out of collective practice of

more or less value, no doubt, in a general way, but they must always

be liable to qualification in their adaptation to particular cases.

Nothing of the nature of art can be formulated as an exact science,

happily, or the limits of its invention and variety would soon be

reached. Art, however, has its scientific side, though the science of

art is not exactly scientific or theoretic, but practical, and rather

consists in recognizing particular necessities of conditions and

materials, and the realizing that the frank acknowledgment of the

nature of these conditions and materials leads, in all the varieties

of design, in association with craftsmanship and architecture, to the

highest beauty.

[Illustration: Patterns in plain leading,

from "THE GLAZIER'S BOOKE."]

The peculiar beauty of a stained glass window, for instance, is

entirely dependent upon this frank acknowledgment of conditions. A

screen of transparent colour and pattern, defined and united by leads,

and held in position by iron bars. Directly any attempt is made to

overstep its natural limits--to make it look like a painted picture,

to get chiaroscuro and vanishing points, or to try to ignore the

leading as an essential condition of its existence--the charm and the

joy of it is lost. There is a distinct character and beauty both in

plain leaded glass and roundels throwing a pleasant network of simple

geometric lines over the blankness of window-panes. Henry Shaw, in

his Glazier's Book,[8] gives a great variety of delightful leading

patterns.

Now, any design for a coloured glass window should, in the first

place, be a good arrangement of lead-lines, I think--a good pattern,

in short, whether figure subject or not--and, secondly, a good pattern

considered as an arrangement of colour or jewelled light.

The artistic designer and maker of a wrought-iron gate, grille, or

railing, whatever phantasy he might introduce, would never forget the

essential requirements of a gate, grille, or railing. He would never

forget the architectural relation of his work, or rather he would make

the chief beauty and inventiveness of his treatment of wrought iron

spring out of that relation.

The practice of modelling in clay (though it may be useful in a

student's training) designs intended to be carved in wood, has, it

seems to me, been most destructive of the beauty and character of true

woodcarving. The same may be said of stone and marble. The essential

spirit and go of the thing, the characteristic touch and treatment

which each material in which the designer works claims as its own, and

which is its own particular reason for existing, these are, of course,

lost or tamed out of recognition when a copy is made of something

already existing in a material and produced by a method totally

different.

Much better keep to simple mouldings and plain painting than bring

in ornament which has no character or meaning of its own. We must not

confuse the mere spreading of ornament with decoration in its true

sense, for Design in all its forms may be said to be governed by an

architectural instinct of its own, which makes it a harmonious part of

the building with which it is united, and which unites it, and puts it

in harmony with itself.

In the limits of a short paper it is impossible to do more than

deal very lightly with so vast a subject as the Arts allied to

Architecture, and there are many that I have not been able to touch

at all, since, properly considered, _all_ the arts are, or should be,

allied to architecture, and the history of architecture covers the

history of human life itself; and what, let us ask, would architecture

be without the associated arts which help to express and adorn it and

fit each part for the use and service of man.

[Footnote 6: This was written before the arrangement of the

collections in the new building of the Victoria and Albert

Museum was complete.]

[Footnote 7: An illustration of this porch is given in my

"Bases of Design."]

[Footnote 8: The full title is "A Booke of Sundry Draughtes.

Principally serving for Glasiers: And not impertinent for

plasterers, and gardeners: besides sundry other professions.

London. William Pickering 1848." It is almost wholly copied

from an older work "printed in Shoolane at the sign of the

Falcon by Walter Dwight 1615."]

NOTES ON COLOUR EMBROIDERY AND ITS TREATMENT

NOTES ON COLOUR EMBROIDERY AND ITS TREATMENT

Embroidery as an art of design may be considered from many different

points of view--but none of these are more important than those of

colour and its treatment. It is indeed to colour that decorative

needlework owes its chief charm, and in no direction is the influence

of controlling taste more essential, and in its absence the most

elaborate workmanship and technical accomplishment are apt to be

wasted.

The choice and treatment of colour must naturally depend, in the

first place, upon the object and purpose of the work, which would, of

course, decide the scale and motive of its pattern.

As applied to costume, in which direction we find some of its most

delicate and beautiful examples, nearness to the eye, the construction

of the garment and the proportions of figure would have to be

considered.

The Russian peasants have a form of frock or long blouse worn by young

girls, which affords an instance of effective use of frank and bright

colour upon a white ground. The garment itself is of homespun linen.

It has a square opening for the neck, and is put on over the head,

like a smock frock. The sleeves are quite simple, full on the upper

arm and narrowing to a band on the wrist. The skirt, which falls

straight from the shoulders, is decorated with a series of horizontal

bands of pattern worked in cross-stitch, the principal colours

being red and green, colours which always tell well upon white.

The square-cut opening at the neck and the cuffs are emphasized

by embroidered pattern of similar kind but on a smaller scale. The

garment is ingeniously adapted to the growth of its wearer by adding

extra rings of pattern to the skirt, and by enlarging a square piece

let in at the arm-pits.

The Hungarian peasant women are most admirable embroiderers, and in

their festal costumes display an extraordinary wealth of brilliant

colour, employing, like the Russian, principally the cross-stitch

on white linen. They are fond of decorating the ends of their

pillow-cases which are piled up one upon the other on the bed, usually

set against the wall in their cottages, so that only the outside ends

show, and these alone are embroidered. Both the patterns, which are

traditional and have an oriental character, and their colour show a

strong decorative sense and natural taste. Many of them being worked

in a single tone of red or blue, always effective on white. In some

parts short sleeveless leather jackets lined with sheep's wool are

worn. These are made incredibly gorgeous in colour by a kind of

combined _appliqué_ and stitch embroidery, the vivid greens, reds,

blues, and purples being kept in their place by the broad white of the

shirt sleeves which flank them on each side when worn.

[Illustration: RUSSIAN PEASANT EMBROIDERY

CHILD'S BLOUSE

in home spun linen worked in cross-stitch

Red pattern in

cross stitch

Red band

Neck opening

Red band

Red pattern in cross stitch

Square enlarging piece

Red band

herring bone stitched

Blue (stitched)

Pattern in Red

(Cross stitch)

Blue (stitched)

Red band

Red band

]

More austere arrangements are however found. There is a large heavy

overcoat, with hanging sleeves and deep collar, worn by the Hungarian

farmers, made of white wool. This is ornamented most judiciously

by _appliqué_ embroidery in black and green. The chief points of

decoration being the collar, the cuffs, and the hem.

In the Montenegrin section of the Balkan States Exhibition at Earl's

Court there were some charming shirts and blouses embroidered with

gold thread and colour, in bands. The constructive points, such as

the neck opening, the junction of the yoke and sleeves, sometimes the

sleeves themselves were richly ornamented with designs in gold and

colour with excellent effect.

Good examples of treatment of rich colour in combination with light

pattern are to be found among Cretan embroideries. The decoration in

bands of the ends of the muslin scarves, relieved with silver and

gold thread, often recalls the effect of the illuminated borders of

fourteenth and fifteenth-century manuscripts, having a delightfully

gay and sparkling effect. These Cretan embroideries are examples of

the harmonious effect in the arrangement of a number of different

colours in the same pattern, grouped around a central feature which

forms the dominating note; this is generally in the form of a large

red flower with a gold centre, and this is surrounded with smaller

detached star-like flowers, and formal cypress trees in leaf-shaped

enclosures of gold or silver thread. The design being repeated, with

slight variations, to form a band or border of pattern decorating

the ends of the scarf. In a sample before me eight colours are used,

besides gold and silver thread. The colours are: (1) red, in centre

flower (a light vermilion); (2) crimson (sometimes, alas, magenta);

(3) pink (pale salmon); (4) orange; (5) light (lemon) yellow (of

greenish tone); (6) olive (dark); (7) pale blue, and (8) dark blue.

[Illustration: CRETAN EMBROIDERY. Silk on Muslin, heightened with

gold and silver thread.

Colours:

1. Orange

2. Crimson

3. Red

4. Pink

5. Olive

6. Yellow (green)

7. Light blue

8. Dark blue

9. Gold

10. Silver

]

As every embroideress knows, colour in embroidery is very much

influenced by texture. The colour of a skein of silk looking different

from the same colour when worked. Juxtaposition with other colours,

again, alters the effect of a colour. As a general principle,

especially where many colours are employed, we are more likely to

secure harmony if we choose reds, for instance, inclining to orange,

blues inclining to green, yellows inclining to green or brown,

blacks of a greenish or olive tone. Perfectly frank and pure colours,

however, may be harmonized, especially with the use of gold, though

they are more difficult to deal with--unless one can command the

natural, primitive instinct of the Hungarian, the Greek, or the

Persian peasant.

For bold decorative work few kinds of embroidery design are more

delightful than the bordered cloths and covers from Bokhara. Here,

again, the colours are chiefly red and green in different shades, the

reds concentrated in the form of big flowers in the intervals of an

open arabesque of thin stems and curved and pointed leaves in green,

the whole design upon a white linen ground.

[Illustration: BOKHARA EMBROIDERY. Silk on linen, chiefly in chain

stitch.

The large flowers are worked in two shades of rich red inclining

to crimson with yellow centres relieved by dark blue. The blue &

yellow & red are repeated in the smaller flowers.

The leaves are blueish green with a red line down centre. They

are outlined with bronze brown which I also used for the stems &

spirals.

Inner border, between red lines. The star flowers are alternately

blue & red with yellow centres with bronze leaves. The outer

border, also between red lines. The flowers are red with blue &

yellow centres alternately, & green & bronze leaves.]

Such joyful, frank, and bold colour, however, would be usually

considered too bright for the ordinary English interior, and under our

gray skies; and colour, after all, is so much a question of climate,

and though for its full splendour we turn to the south and east, we

need not want for models of beautiful, if quieter, harmonies in the

natural tints of our native country at different seasons of the year.

There are abundant suggestions to be had from field and hedgerow at

all times--arrangements in russet, or gold, or green. What can be

more beautiful as a colour motive than the frail pink or white of the

blossoms of the briar rose, starring the green arabesque of thorny

stem and leaf; or its scarlet hip and bronze green leaf in the autumn;

or the crisp, white pattern of the field daisy on the pale green

of the hay field, relieved by the yellow centres and by the red

of sorrel; or the brave scarlet of the poppy between the thin gold

threads of the ripe corn. Then, too, there are beautiful schemes of

colour to be found in the plumage of our birds. Take the colours of a

jay, for instance--a mass of fawn-coloured gray with a pinkish tinge,

relieved with touches of intense black and white and small bars of

turquoise blue and white. A charming scheme for an embroidered pattern

might be made of such an arrangement, if the colours were used in

similar proportions to those of nature--say in a costume.

The mainspring of colour suggestion, as of design, in embroidery,

however, must be found in Nature's own embroidery--flowers, and the

garden must always be an unfailing source of fresh suggestion for

floral design both in colour and form. But, of course, everything in

the process of adaptation to artistic purposes is under the necessity

of translation or transformation, and any form or tint in nature must

be re-stated in the terms proper to the art or craft under its own

conditions and limitations as being essential to the character and

beauty of the result, _suggestion_, rather than imitation of nature,

being the principle to follow.

But while we must go to nature for fresh inspiration in colour

invention or combination, we have a guide in the traditions and

examples of the craft and the choice of stitches to influence our

treatment.

The colour principles, too, we may find in allied arts may help us.

[Illustration: DESIGN FOR AN EMBROIDERED HANGING

Showing the use of shields of arms as contrasting

elements in colour & pattern

COLOURS:

oak leaves - sage green.

stone & acorns - golden brown

on pale green or unbleached

linen ground.

Heraldic colours as noted

on sketch

ORIGINAL DESIGN BY WALTER CRANE.]

Heraldry, for instance, while shields of arms, crests, and mottoes,

are in themselves excellent material for embroidery, as units

of embroidered pattern. The principles of the disposition and

countercharge of colour in heraldry, and the methods of its display

and treatment in form as exemplified in the heraldic design of the

best periods--say, from the twelfth to the fifteenth century--will be

found full of useful lessons. A repeating pattern of leaves or flowers

in a hanging is pleasantly enriched and varied by the introduction

of heraldic badges or shields at intervals, the emphatic concentrated

colour and accent of the heraldry contrasting with the less formal,

open, but evenly dispersed design with its recurring units and

counterbalancing curves which form the main field of the hanging.

Interesting heraldic devices for such purposes may be found in every

locality, either of family, civic, or general historic interest, our

village churches being generally valuable treasuries from this point

of view.

Where it is desired to restrict colour in embroidery to two or

three tints, and restricted colour is generally suitable to simple

decorative purposes with corresponding simplicity of design, it is

safe to follow the principle of complementary colours in nature.

Red and green, blue and orange, brown and yellow, and so on, but, of

course, this would leave an immense range of choice of actual tint of

any one colour open. Your red, for instance, might be salmon pink or

deep crimson, your green that of the first lime shoots in spring to

the metallic bronze of the holly leaf; your blue might be that of

larkspur or the turquoise of the palest forget-me-not, while

your orange might be that of the ripe fruit or the tint of faded

beech-leaf. Tasteful work, however, may be done in two or three shades

of the same colour.

The choice of tint for the embroidery must depend largely upon the

tint and material of the ground, and also upon the material in which

the work itself is to be carried out--silk, cotton thread, or crewels.

Whether, however, for designs which entirely cover the ground, or for

the lightest open floral pattern, linen seems the material on which

the best results are produced.

NOTES ON EARLY ITALIAN GESSO WORK

NOTES ON EARLY ITALIAN GESSO WORK

The charming varieties of decoration in relief by means of modelled

gesso and stucco which attained to such richness and beauty in the

hands of Italian artists in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries,

are traceable to very early origins, and come down from Graeco-Roman

and Roman times, and probably had a still earlier existence in the

East, since decoration in raised gesso was long practised by the

Persians and the Arabs, and plaster-work goes back to the ancient

Egyptians, who also used gesso grounds for the painting and gilding of

their mummy cases. Existing examples of Roman and Pompeian relief

work belong mostly to the first century B.C., and are of the nature

of architectural enrichments, being chiefly mural and ceiling

decorations, worked in plaster and stucco, _in situ_. Many of these

are very delicate and show the influence of Greek feeling in design

and treatment, such, for instance, as those from the ceilings of

the tombs on the Via Latina at Rome, which in their simple panelled

treatment, enclosing groups of finely modelled figures seem to be the

forerunners of the rich and delicate gesso relief work, stamped, or

modelled with the brush, which the Italians used with such tact in the

decoration of caskets, marriage coffers, and other furniture in the

early renascence period. Mr. Millar in his comprehensive work on

"Plastering" speaks of a very fine example of gesso work as existing

in the old cathedral church at Coire, a box which is said to be as old

as the ninth century. It is entirely covered with gesso, on which

a design in relief has been roughly scrolled. The gesso has been

polished so as to give the appearance of ivory, and he further says,

"at the corners, where it has got chipped off, the ends of the linen

can be seen which has evidently been put next the wood, as Cennino

Cennini advises."

Cennino, indeed, in his very interesting "Trattato" (which was

translated by Mrs. Merrifield in 1844, for the first time into

English, and recently, more accurately and completely, by Mrs.

Herringham) gives very full and ample accounts of the methods in use

in his time in painting and the allied arts, and gives recipes, also,

both for making and working gesso. He lays great stress on the care

necessary in preparing grounds on wood both for painting and raised

work, and in advocating the use of "linen cloth, old, fine, and white,

and free from all grease," writes "take your best size, cut or tear

large or small strips of this linen, soak these in the size, and

spread them with your hands over the surface of the panel; remove

the seams, and spread the strips out with the palms of the hands, and

leave them to dry for two days." He further enjoined one to "remember

it is best to use size when the weather is dry and windy. Size is

stronger in the winter than in summer, and in winter gilding must be

done in damp and rainy weather." Then--Chapter 115--he proceeds to

describe the process of laying on the ground of gesso over the linen.

His "gesso grosso" used for the ground, is burnt gypsum or what we

know as plaster of paris. The same, well-slaked, he uses for finer

grounds, and also for working in relief upon such grounds.

In Chapter 116 Cennino describes how to prepare gesso sottile (slaked

plaster of paris). The plaster, he says, "must be well purified, and

kept moist in a large tub for at least a month; renew the water every

day until it (the plaster) almost rots, and is completely slaked, and

all fiery heat goes out of it, and it becomes as soft as silk." This

gesso is afterwards dried in cakes and Cennino speaks of it in this

form as "sold by the druggists to our painters," and that "it is used

for grounding, for gilding, for _working in relief_, and other fine

works." These cakes were scraped or soaked and ground to powder and

mixed with size for using as grounds and for relief work, as occasion

required (Chapters 117, 119). In speaking further on (Chapter 124) of

"how works in relief are executed on panels with gesso sottile," he

says, "take a little of the gesso on the point of the brush (the brush

must be of minever, and the hairs fine and rather long), and with that

quickly raise whatever figures you wish to make in relief; and if you

raise any foliage, draw the design previously, like the figures, and

be careful not to relieve too many things, or confusedly, for the

clearer you make your foliage ornaments, the better you will be able

to display the ingraining with stamps and they can be better burnished

with the stone." He describes (Chapter 125) also methods of casting

relief work, "to adorn some parts of the picture" which shows he is

thinking of gesso enrichments in painting, so much used by the early

painters.

Cennino is said to have been living in Padua in the year 1398. His

treatise shows the care and patience necessary to good workmanship in

the various arts and crafts he describes, and throws much light upon

the methods of the artist craftsman of his time, and is of particular

value and interest as touching the subjects of tempera painting,

gilding, and, incidentally, of gesso-relief decoration, to the

ornamental effect of which both the former are important contributors.

Now there are several distinct varieties of gesso work. Firstly we

have gesso relief used to adorn and enrich painted panels, or as an

adjunct to decorative painting. Of this there are many instances:

a notable one may be cited in the frescoes of Pinturrichio in the

Appartamenti Borgia in the Vatican at Rome where the paintings are

heightened by gilded parts in relief, such as weapons and ornaments,

embroidery or robes, and even architectural mouldings. The late Mr.

Spencer Stanhope revived this union of gilded gesso with decorative

painting, as in his work in the chapel at Marlborough College. Other

examples may be found in our National Gallery. The superb collection

of Italian gesso work in the Victoria and Albert Museum, unrivalled

anywhere, from which, by the courtesy of the late Mr. Skinner, who was

Sir C. Purdon Clarke's successor in the directorship,[9] I am enabled

to give my illustrations, may be referred to as furnishing examples of

every variety of treatment in the craft, as well as of the taste and

invention and richness of early Italian decorative design.

[Illustration: MARRIAGE COFFER, NO. 5804--1859

(VICTORIA AND ALBERT MUSEUM).]

As an adjunct to painting gilded gesso was frequently used burnished

and enriched with stamped or punctured patterns (_granare_), often in

the form of nimbi around the heads of saints and angels in devotional

works, and in backgrounds. Cennino (Chapter 142) speaks of this method

and gives directions in it. The Marriage Coffer from the Museum, No.

5804--1859, illustrates this treatment and is a good example of

its highly decorative effect. The front panel shows a very rich and

interesting design of figures in fifteenth century Florentine costume,

heightened with gilded parts in gesso having small punctured patterns

upon it, which give sparkle and variety to the gold. This method seems

to have been continued for several centuries in Florence. I have an

alms-dish of early seventeenth century date, the centre of which

is treated in this way with punctured or hollow pin-head patterns

impressed upon a gilded gesso ground.

William Morris to Whistler Papers and addresses on art and craft and the commonweal. · 第 7 / 12 段