FOOTNOTES:

[41] I give Rossetti this pre-eminence, because, though the leading

Pre-Raphaelites have all about equal power over color in the

abstract, Rossetti and Holman Hunt are distinguished above the rest

for rendering color under effects of light; and of these two,

Rossetti composes with richer fancy, and with a deeper sense of

beauty, Hunt's stern realism leading him continually into harshness.

Rossetti's carelessness, to do him justice, is only in water-color,

never in oil.

[42] All the degradation of art which was brought about, after the

rise of the Dutch school, by asphaltum, yellow varnish, and brown

trees would have been prevented, if only painters had been forced to

work in dead color. Any color will do for some people, if it is

browned and shining; but fallacy in dead color is detected on the

instant. I even believe that whenever a painter begins to _wish_

that he could touch any portion of his work with gum, he is going

wrong.

It is necessary, however, in this matter, carefully to distinguish

between translucency and luster. Translucency, though, as I have

said above, a dangerous temptation, is, in its place, beautiful; but

luster or _shininess_ is always, in painting, a defect. Nay, one of

my best painter-friends (the "best" being understood to attach to

both divisions of that awkward compound word,) tried the other day

to persuade me that luster was an ignobleness in anything; and it

was only the fear of treason to ladies' eyes, and to mountain

streams, and to morning dew, which kept me from yielding the point

to him. One is apt always to generalize too quickly in such matters;

but there can be no question that luster is destructive of

loveliness in color, as it is of intelligibility in form. Whatever

may be the pride of a young beauty in the knowledge that her eyes

shine (though perhaps even eyes are most beautiful in dimness), she

would be sorry if her cheeks did; and which of us would wish to

polish a rose?

[43] But not shiny or greasy. Bristol board, or hot-pressed

imperial, or gray paper that feels slightly adhesive to the hand, is

best. Coarse, gritty, and sandy papers are fit only for blotters and

blunderers; no good draughtsman would lay a line on them. Turner

worked much on a thin tough paper, dead in surface; rolling up his

sketches in tight bundles that would go deep into his pockets.

[44] I insist upon this unalterability of color the more because I

address you as a beginner, or an amateur: a great artist can

sometimes get out of a difficulty with credit, or repent without

confession. Yet even Titian's alterations usually show as stains on

his work.

[45] It is, I think, a piece of affectation to try to work with few

colors: it saves time to have enough tints prepared without mixing,

and you may at once allow yourself these twenty-four. If you arrange

them in your color-box in the order I have set them down, you will

always easily put your finger on the one you want.

Cobalt Smalt Antwerb blue Prussian blue

Black Gamboge Emerald green Hooker's green

Lemon yellow Cadmium yellow Yellow ocher Roman ocher

Raw sienna Burnt sienna Light red Indian red

Mars orange Extract of vermilion Carmine Violet carmine

Brown madder Burnt umber Vandyke brown Sepia

Antwerp blue and Prussian blue are not very permanent colors, but

you need not care much about permanence in your work as yet, and

they are both beautiful; while Indigo is marked by Field as more

fugitive still, and is very ugly. Hooker's green is a mixed color,

put in the box merely to save you loss of time in mixing gamboge and

Prussian blue. No. 1 is the best tint of it. Violet carmine is a

noble color for laying broken shadows with, to be worked into

afterwards with other colors.

If you wish to take up coloring seriously you had better get Field's

"Chromatography" at once; only do not attend to anything it says

about principles or harmonies of color; but only to its statements

of practical serviceableness in pigments, and of their operations on

each other when mixed, etc.

[46] A more methodical, though under general circumstances uselessly

prolix way, is to cut a square hole, some half an inch wide, in the

sheet of cardboard, and a series of small circular holes in a slip

of cardboard an inch wide. Pass the slip over the square opening,

and match each color beside one of the circular openings. You will

thus have no occasion to wash any of the colors away. But the first

rough method is generally all you want, as, after a little practice,

you only need to _look_ at the hue through the opening in order to

be able to transfer it to your drawing at once.

[47] If colors were twenty times as costly as they are, we should

have many more good painters. If I were Chancellor of the Exchequer

I would lay a tax of twenty shillings a cake on all colors except

black, Prussian blue, Vandyke brown, and Chinese white, which I

would leave for students. I don't say this jestingly; I believe such

a tax would do more to advance real art than a great many schools of

design.

[48] I say _modern_, because Titian's quiet way of blending colors,

which is the perfectly right one, is not understood now by any

artist. The best color we reach is got by stippling; but this is not

quite right.

[49] See Note 6 in Appendix I.

[50] The worst general character that color can possibly have is a

prevalent tendency to a dirty yellowish green, like that of a

decaying heap of vegetables; this color is _accurately_ indicative

of decline or paralysis in missal-painting.

[51] That is to say, local color inherent in the object. The

gradations of color in the various shadows belonging to various

lights exhibit form, and therefore no one but a colorist can ever

draw _forms_ perfectly (see Modern Painters, vol. iv. chap. iii. at

the end); but all notions of explaining form by superimposed color,

as in architectural moldings, are absurd. Color adorns form, but

does not interpret it. An apple is prettier because it is striped,

but it does not look a bit rounder; and a cheek is prettier because

it is flushed, but you would see the form of the cheek bone better

if it were not. Color may, indeed, detach one shape from another, as

in grounding a bas-relief, but it always diminishes the appearance

of projection, and whether you put blue, purple, red, yellow, or

green, for your ground, the bas-relief will be just as clearly or

just as imperfectly relieved, as long as the colors are of equal

depth. The blue ground will not retire the hundredth part of an inch

more than the red one.

[52] See, however, at the close of this letter, the notice of one

more point connected with the management of color, under the head

"Law of Harmony."

[53] See farther, on this subject, Modern Painters, vol. iv. chap.

viii. § 6.

[54] See Note 7 in Appendix I.

[55] "In general, throughout Nature, reflection and repetition are

peaceful things, associated with the idea of quiet succession in

events; that one day should be like another day, or one history the

repetition of another history, being more or less results of

quietness, while dissimilarity and non-succession are results of

interference and disquietude. Thus, though an echo actually

increases the quantity of sound heard, its repetition of the note or

syllable gives an idea of calmness attainable in no other way; hence

also the feeling of calm given to a landscape by the voice of a

cuckoo."

[56] This is obscure in the rude wood-cut, the masts being so

delicate that they are confused among the lines of reflection. In

the original they have orange light upon them, relieved against

purple behind.

[57] The cost of art in getting a bridge level is _always_ lost, for

you must get up to the height of the central arch at any rate, and

you only can make the whole bridge level by putting the hill farther

back, and pretending to have got rid of it when you have not, but

have only wasted money in building an unnecessary embankment. Of

course, the bridge should not be difficultly or dangerously steep,

but the necessary slope, whatever it may be, should be in the bridge

itself, as far as the bridge can take it, and not pushed aside into

the approach, as in our Waterloo road; the only rational excuse for

doing which is that when the slope must be long it is inconvenient

to put on a drag at the top of the bridge, and that any restiveness

of the horse is more dangerous on the bridge than on the embankment.

To this I answer: first, it is not more dangerous in reality, though

it looks so, for the bridge is always guarded by an effective

parapet, but the embankment is sure to have no parapet, or only a

useless rail; and secondly, that it is better to have the slope on

the bridge and make the roadway wide in proportion, so as to be

quite safe, because a little waste of space on the river is no loss,

but your wide embankment at the side loses good ground; and so my

picturesque bridges are right as well as beautiful, and I hope to

see them built again some day instead of the frightful

straight-backed things which we fancy are fine, and accept from the

pontifical rigidities of the engineering mind.

[58] I cannot waste space here by reprinting what I have said in

other books; but the reader ought, if possible, to refer to the

notices of this part of our subject in Modern Painters, vol. iv.

chap xvii.; and Stones of Venice, vol. iii. chap. i. § 8.

[59] If you happen to be reading at this part of the book, without

having gone through any previous practice, turn back to the sketch

of the ramification of stone pine, Fig. 4, p. 17, and examine the

curves of its boughs one by one, trying them by the conditions here

stated under the heads A and B.

[60] The reader, I hope, observes always that every line in these

figures is itself one of varying curvature, and cannot be drawn by

compasses.

[61] I hope the reader understands that these wood-cuts are merely

facsimiles of the sketches I make at the side of my paper to

illustrate my meaning as I write--often sadly scrawled if I want to

get on to something else. This one is really a little too careless;

but it would take more time and trouble to make a proper drawing of

so odd a boat than the matter is worth. It will answer the purpose

well enough as it is.

[62] Imperfect vegetable form I consider that which is in its nature

dependent, as in runners and climbers; or which is susceptible of

continual injury without materially losing the power of giving

pleasure by its aspect, as in the case of the smaller grasses. I

have not, of course, space here to explain these minor distinctions,

but the laws above stated apply to all the more important trees and

shrubs likely to be familiar to the student.

[63] There is a very tender lesson of this kind in the shadows of

leaves upon the ground; shadows which are the most likely of all to

attract attention, by their pretty play and change. If you examine

them, you will find that the shadows do not take the forms of the

leaves, but that, through each interstice, the light falls, at a

little distance, in the form of a round or oval spot; that is to

say, it produces the image of the sun itself, cast either vertically

or obliquely, in circle or ellipse according to the slope of the

ground. Of course the sun's rays produce the same effect, when they

fall through any small aperture: but the openings between leaves are

the only ones likely to show it to an ordinary observer, or to

attract his attention to it by its frequency, and lead him to think

what this type may signify respecting the greater Sun; and how it

may show us that, even when the opening through which the earth

receives light is too small to let us see the Sun Himself, the ray

of light that enters, if it comes straight from Him, will still bear

with it His image.

[64] In the smaller figure (32), it will be seen that this

interruption is caused by a cart coming down to the water's edge;

and this object is serviceable as beginning another system of curves

leading out of the picture on the right, but so obscurely drawn as

not to be easily represented in outline. As it is unnecessary to the

explanation of our point here, it has been omitted in the larger

diagram, the direction of the curve it begins being indicated by the

dashes only.

[65] Both in the Sketches in Flanders and Germany.

[66] If you happen to meet with the plate of Dürer's representing a

coat-of-arms with a skull in the shield, note the value given to the

concave curves and sharp point of the helmet by the convex leafage

carried round it in front; and the use of the blank white part of

the shield in opposing the rich folds of the dress.

[67] Turner hardly ever, as far as I remember, allows a strong light

to oppose a full dark, without some intervening tint. His suns never

set behind dark mountains without a film of cloud above the

mountain's edge.

[68] "A prudent chief not always must display

His powers in equal ranks and fair array,

But with the occasion and the place comply,

Conceal his force; nay, seem sometimes to fly.

Those oft are stratagems which errors seem,

Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream."

_Essay on Criticism._

[69] I am describing from an MS., _circa_ 1300, of Gregory's

Decretalia, in my own possession.

[70] One of the most wonderful compositions of Tintoret in Venice,

is little more than a field of subdued crimson, spotted with flakes

of scattered gold. The upper clouds in the most beautiful skies owe

great part of their power to infinitude of divisions; order being

marked through this division.

[71] I fully believe that the strange gray gloom, accompanied by

considerable power of effect, which prevails in modern French art,

must be owing to the use of this mischievous instrument; the French

landscape always gives me the idea of Nature seen carelessly in the

dark mirror, and painted coarsely, but scientifically, through the

veil of its perversion.

[72] Various other parts of this subject are entered into,

especially in their bearing on the ideal of painting, in Modern

Painters, vol. iv. chap. iii.

[73] In all the best arrangements of color, the delight occasioned

by their mode of succession is entirely inexplicable, nor can it be

reasoned about; we like it just as we like an air in music, but

cannot reason any refractory person into liking it, if they do not:

and yet there is distinctly a right and a wrong in it, and a good

taste and bad taste respecting it, as also in music.

[74] "Puseyism" was unknown in the days when this drawing was made;

but the kindly and helpful influences of what may be called

ecclesiastical sentiment, which, in a morbidly exaggerated

condition, forms one of the principal elements of "Puseyism,"--I use

this word regretfully, no other existing which will serve for

it,--had been known and felt in our wild northern districts long

before.

The Elements of Drawing, in Three Letters to Beginners · 第 49 / 71 题