As there is no one word in English to express the idea contained in the
phrase “dark‐and‐light,” I have adopted the Japanese word “no‐tan” (dark,
light). It seems fitting that we should borrow this art‐term from a people
who have revealed to us so much of this kind of beauty. “Chiaroscuro” has
a similar but more limited meaning. Still narrower are the ordinary studio
terms “light‐and‐shade,” “shading,” “spotting,” “effect” that convey
little idea of special harmony‐building, but refer usually to
representation.
Notan, while including all that these words connote, has a fuller meaning
as a name for a great universal manifestation of beauty.
Darks and lights in harmonic relations—this is Notan the second structural
element of space‐art; p. 7.
The Orientals rarely represent shadows; they seem to regard them as of
slight interest—mere fleeting effects or accidents. They prefer to model
by line rather than by shading. They recognize notan as a vital and
distinct element of the art of painting.
The Buddhist priest‐painters of the Zen sect discarded color, and for ages
painted in ink, so mastering tone‐relations as to attract the admiration
and profoundly influence the art of the western world.
Our etching and book illustration have long felt the effect of contact
with Japanese classic painting, though the influence came indirectly
through the Ukiyoye color prints and books. Such names as Kakei, Chinese
of the Sung dynasty (p. 96), Soga Shubun, the Chinese who founded a school
in Japan in the fifteenth century (p. 17), Sesshu, one of the greatest
painters of all time (p. 97), Sotan, Soami, Motonobu, Tanyu are now placed
with Titian, Giorgione (p. 51), Rembrandt, Turner, Corot and Whistler. The
works of Oriental masters who felt the power and mystery of Notan are
becoming known through the reproductions that the Japanese are publishing,
and through precious examples in our own museums and collections. This in
one of the forces tending to uproot our traditional scientific art
teaching which does not recognize Dark‐and‐Light as worthy of special
attention.
Appreciation of Notan and power to create with it can be gained, as in the
case of Line, by definite study through progressive exercises. At the
outset a fundamental fact must be understood, that synthetically related
masses of dark and light convey an impression of beauty entirely
independent of meaning,—for example, geometric patterns or blotty ink
sketches by Dutch and Japanese.
When this occurs accidentally in nature,—say a grove of dark trees on a
light hillside, or a pile of buildings against the morning sky,—we at once
feel the charm and call the effect “picturesque.” The quality which makes
the natural scene a good subject for a picture is like musical harmony. It
is the “visual music” that the Japanese so love in the rough ink paintings
of their masters where there is but a hint of facts (pp. 97, 99)—a classic
style which is the outward expression of a fine appreciation, and whose
origin and practice are admirably set forth in “The Book of Tea.”
Recognition of Notan as an individual element will simplify the
difficulties of tone‐composition and open the way for growth in power.
NOTAN OF LINE. As long as the lines of a design are kept of uniform width,
the beauty is limited to proportion of areas and quality of touch, but
widen some of the lines, and at once appears a new grace, Dark‐and‐Light.
The textile designers who are restricted to straight lines, have recourse
to this principle. They widen lines, vary their depth of tone, glorify
them with color, and show that what seems a narrow field is really one of
wide range.
[No. 40. Notan of Line.]