The instructor draws flower or fruit with stem and leaves. The pupil
arranges this motif in various rectangular spaces (page 25), combining the
1st and 3rd forms of subordination, and using his critical judgment in a
way that is of great value to the beginner in composition. The pupil now
draws the same or similar subjects from nature, acquainting himself with
their form and character; then composes them in decorative or pictorial
panels—an art‐use of representative drawing as well as exercise in
appreciation. Copy the examples of the 2nd kind of Subordination, and
design original rosettes, anthemions, palmettes, thinking chiefly of the
spacing and rhythm. Find examples in nature; chimneys and roofs, boats
with masts and sails, or tree groups. Draw and arrange in spaces. Nos. 16,
18, 26, 28, 37, 61.
After choosing the best out of many trial sketches, draw in line with the
Japanese brush. Then, for further improvement in arrangement, and
refinement of line‐quality, trace with brush and ink upon thin Japanese
paper.
4. REPETITION. This name is give to the opposite of Subordination—the
production of beauty by repeating the same lines in rhythmical order. The
intervals may be equal, as in pattern, or unequal, as in landscape, see
below and No. 20.
[No 17. Repetition]
[No 18. Opposition, Transition, Opposition and Symmetry, Subordination]
Of all ways of creating harmony this is the most common, being probably
the oldest form of design. It seems almost instinctive, perhaps derived
from the rhythms of breathing and walking, or the movement of ripples and
rolling waves. Marching is but orderly walking, and the dance, in its
primitive form, is a development of marching. Children make rows and
patterns of sticks or bits of colored paper, thinking of them as in
animated motion. In early forms of art the figures march or dance around
the vases, pots and baskets.
[No. 19 Peruvian Tapestry]
This principle of Repetition is the basis of all music and poetry. The
sacred dance of the savage is associated with the drum and other primitive
instruments for marking rhythm; with the chant and mystic song. From such
rude beginnings, from the tomtoms, trumpets and Pan‐pipes of old, music
has developed to the masterpieces of modern times through the building of
harmony upon harmony,—composition.
From the crude rhythm of the savage, like the Australian song “Eat; eat;
eat,” from the battle cries and folk poems of barbaric peoples, there has
been refinement upon refinement of word‐music ever moving towards the
supreme. This gave the world the verse of Sappho which Swinburne thought
the most beautiful sounds ever produced in language. From the rude
patterns marked with sticks on Indian bowls and pots, or painted in earth
colors on wigwam and belt, or woven on blanket, this form of space art has
grown, through the complexities of Egyptian and Peruvian textile design to
the splendor of Byzantine mosaic, the jewel patterns of the Moguls, and
Gothic sculpture; from rock‐cut pillars of cave temples to the colonnade
of the Parthenon. (For examples of primitive design see the works of
William H. Holmes.)
Repetition, be it remembered, is only a way of putting lines and spaces
together, and does not in itself produce beauty. A mere row of things has
no art‐value. Railroads, fences, blocks of buildings, and all bad
patterns, are, like doggerel rhyme, examples of repetition without art.
Repetition in fine spacing, with the intention of creating a harmony,
becomes a builder of art fabric.