PROCESSES.
(2) _Shadowgraphy and Mechanical Aids._
Up to this point we have discussed only those processes which entail hand
drawing with pen, pencil, or brush, which are undoubtedly an attractive
type of the shadow picture, whether they are executed on ivory, plaster,
or paper; their backing with wax, gold, or silver leaf tinsel, on
coloured paper makes accidental varieties of the one type.
Any of these processes require a good deal of artistic training, even
if the shade is used as a guide, for unless there is skill in catching
a likeness, or delicacy and charm in drawing, black portraiture has
nothing whatever to recommend it. However the silhouette is executed,
the mechanical appliances play so important a part in nearly all the
processes that they need a chapter to themselves. In order to popularise
the black portrait, some means of achieving it was required which could
be used by persons without talent or artistic training.
It was here that shadowgraphy came to the fore. Even the most ignorant
in art work could trace a shadow when thrown upon white paper on a wall
or specially made screen, and if the full life-size were considered too
large, the Singe, pantograph, or other contrivance could reduce its
size; then only scissors were required, and the silhouette-by-machinery
maker felt himself to be as gifted as the black portrait painter, or the
freehand scissor-cutter, whose work we describe in another chapter.
Etienne de Silhouette, born in 1709, amused himself with the craze of
the day. His craft, belonging essentially to this section of mechanical
execution, deserves special mention, not because he invented the black
profile portrait, for they were made sixty years before he was born, but
because his name was given to it in derision, and has stuck to it ever
since. Being finance minister, he was supposed to be a promoter of the
fine arts, but such was his economy, or meanness, that artists styled
his paper pictures “portraits à la silhouette,” a name synonymous with
paltry effort and cheapness. This did not, however, deter people from
patronising the silhouette artists, nor of attempting, themselves, to
achieve the machine-made variety of the fashionable black portrait.
In the _Journal Officiel_, published in Paris, August 29th, 1869, we
read:—“Le Chateau de Berg sur Marne fut construit en 1759 par Etienne de
Silhouette ... une des principales distractions de se seigneur consistait
à tracer une ligne autour d’un visage, afin d’en avoir le profil dessiné
sur le mur: plusieurs salles de son chateau avaient les murailles
couvertes de ses sortes de dessins que l’on appelle des silhouettes du
nom de leur auteur de nomination que est toujours resté.”
In the seventeenth century, dillettantism was an obsession with the
leisured classes. The tendency of the time towards Greek art, as has
been indicated in another chapter, helped to popularise the scissor-work
of this type of shadow portraiture, and it became a fashionable craze.
Though the cutting out with scissors and penknife sometimes took the
form of landscape groups and small whole figures, the profile alone in
small, though not miniature size, proved the most fascinating branch of
scissor-work, and survived the longest in the favour of amateurs, because
the purely mechanical shadow tracing required no skill, and inevitably
gave a life-like likeness if traced with reasonable care.
There were several methods of securing steadiness on the part of the
sitter and the best result as to arrangement of candle-light essential
to the success of the portrait. Lavater, who believed so sincerely in the
infallibility of the silhouette as an assistance in his physiognomical
studies, gives elaborate directions as to how to obtain the best results.
He says in Lecture XVI. (we spare our readers the long observations on
silhouettes):—
“It may be of use to point out the best method of taking this species of
portraits.
“That which has hitherto been pursued is liable to many inconveniences.
The person who wants to have his portrait drawn is too incommodiously
seated to preserve a perfectly immovable position; the drawer is
obliged to change his place; he is in a constrained attitude, which
often conceals from him a part of the shade. The apparatus is neither
sufficiently simple nor sufficiently commodious, and, by some means or
other, derangement must, to a certain degree, be the consequence.
“This will happen when a chair is employed expressly adapted to this
operation, and constructed in such a manner as to give a steady support
to the head and to the whole body. The shade ought to be reflected on
fine paper, well oiled and very dry, which must be placed behind a glass,
perfectly clear and polished, fixed in the back of the chair. Behind
this glass the designer is seated; with one hand he lays hold of the
frame, and with the other guides the pencil. The glass, which is set in a
movable frame, may be raised or lowered at pleasure; both must slope at
bottom, and this part of the frame ought firmly to rest on the shoulder
of the person whose silhouette is going to be taken.
“Toward the middle of the glass, is fixed a bar of wood or iron furnished
with a cushion to serve as a support, and which the drawer directs as he
pleases by means of a handle half an inch long.
“Take the assistance of a solar microscope, and you will succeed still
better in catching the outlines; the design also will be more correct....
“There are faces which will not allow of the most trifling alteration
in the silhouette, or strengthen or weaken the outline but a single
hair’s-breadth, and it is no longer the portrait you intended; it is one
quite new, and of character essentially different.”
In this work of silhouette-making and physiognomical study, Lavater
wished the whole world to co-operate with him, as Goëthe testified.
On a long journey down the Rhine, he had the portraits taken by his
draughtsman, Schmoll, of a great number of important people. This served
the secondary purpose of interesting his sitters in his work. He also
asked artists to send him drawings for his purpose, and wrote much on the
physiognomical character of the figures in the pictures of such artists
as Raphael and Vandyck.
Goëthe was intensely interested, and there is much of his correspondence
extant on the subject. Enthusiastic at first, his zeal seems to have
waned. On June 23rd, 1774, Lavater arrived at Goëthe’s house with
Schmoll, and portraits were taken of the author of “The Sorrows of
Werther,” and of his parents.
A year later, in August, 1775, Goëthe writes, imploring Lavater, “I beg
you will destroy the family picture of us; it is frightful. You do credit
neither to yourself nor to us. Get my father cut out, and use him as a
vignette, for he is good. I do entreat of you to do this; you can do what
you like with my head too, but my mother must not be recorded like that.”
An amusing sequel to this correspondence is that when the third volume
of Lavater’s “Physiognomy” appeared containing her husband’s portrait
alone, the councillor’s wife was extremely offended, and says that
evidently the author did not think her face worthy to appear.
A scrap-book full of these machine- and scissor-made silhouettes, with
copious notes made by Lavater on the character of the sitters, judged by
the shadow portraits, is one of the chief treasures in the collection of
Mr. Wellesley, and forms an important item in silhouette history in its
use for scientific purposes.
A machine for the use of amateurs is owned by Dr. Beetham, descendant
of Mrs. Edward Beetham, the clever silhouettist of Fleet Street. This
machine for taking silhouettes is a box about the size of a cigar box.
One end has a lens glued into a sliding block or frame for focusing
purposes. A piece of looking-glass reflects the object on to a piece
of frosted glass on the top of the box. The subject is drawn from this
reduced shadow.
There were others besides Lavater who published advice as to the best way
of taking silhouettes.
In “A Detailed Treatise on Silhouettes: their Drawing, Reduction,
Ornamentation and Reproduction,” published in 1780, the author, after
many allusions to prisma, cylinder, pyramid, cone, the sun and moon, and
perpendicular and horizontal lines, gives indispensable rules for the
silhouetteur:—
1. The surface on which the shadow is made must be upright.
2. It must be parallel with the head of the sitter.
3. The imaginary line running from the centre of the flame to
the middle of the profile must be horizontal with the surface
on which the shadow is to be cast.
4. The light must be as far from the head as possible, but the
surface for drawing on must be as near the head as possible.
As will be seen from the print taken from Lavater’s book, these rules
were fairly accurately carried out in the chair depicted. Practical hints
are also given in the treatise as to paper, light, pencils, etc. Great
stress is laid on the importance of obtaining paper large enough for the
drawing of the enormous modern head-dress of women, for which, sometimes,
two pieces were put together. We have seen interesting examples of this,
where the paper is actually joined together with the thin old-fashioned
pins of the period, and life-size heads, executed in black paper, in a
country house in Sussex.
“A wax light is better than tallow or suet,” this careful mentor
continues, “as there is nothing so harmful as a flare, which makes the
shadow tremble. If one cannot obtain a wax candle, and must use a lamp,
let it be dressed with olive oil. Coughing, sneezing, or laughing are to
be avoided, as such movements put the shadow out of place.”
The reduction of shadow portraits so taken is then described at length,
and by various methods, “as the physiognomical expression is more piquant
in a reduced silhouette.” “The best of these mechanical reducers is
the Stork’s Beak or Monkey (this is our present-day pantograph), which
consists of two triangles so joined by hinges that they resemble a
movable square, which is fixed at one point of the base of the drawing,
while a point of the larger triangle follows the outline of the life-size
silhouette. A pencil attached to the smaller triangle traces the same
outline smaller and with perfect accuracy. By repeating these reductions,
silhouettes may be made in brooch and locket size.”
“With regard to the ornamentation and finish of the silhouette portrait,
black paint should be used.” We presume this would be for the fine lines
of the hair, which are sometimes added to the background after paper-cut
silhouettes are mounted. Chinese or Indian ink is advised, or pine-soot,
mixed with brandy, gum, or beer.
Advice is also given as to painting round the paper outline: the paint
should be put on from the pencil outline towards the centre. The
anonymous author suggests that two portraits should be cut at once; the
first to be stuck into the family album, the second to be hung upon the
wall.
For such decorative purposes elaborate instructions are given. “Take a
nice clear sun-glass and clean it with powdered chalk and clean linen
to remove all grease and dirt. Cover this glass on one side with finely
powdered white lead mixed with a little gum-water. When this is dry take
the silhouette, which has been cut out of strong paper, place it on the
powdered surface, and trace round the outline with a needle; remove the
silhouette, and scrape away all the white within the drawn line. Thus one
obtains a transparent silhouette, which can be turned into a black one
by laying a piece of black velvet at the back of the glass, or if not
velvet, fine black cloth or taffeta or paper.”
This silhouette recipe maker also suggests that the cut-out black
silhouettes can be stuck on to the glass with Venetian turpentine, and
the glass then treated with the white covering; or one can use tinfoil,
which forms a mirror.
This brings us back to the background treatment for painted silhouettes
without the aid of shadowgraphy and scissor-work, so that we need not
repeat the various kinds.
In this remarkable book, which is in the possession of Professor Dr.
Th. Slettner (Münich), and for a description of which we are indebted
to Herr Julius Leisching, a further description of silhouette-making is
given:—“By sticking together three or four sheets of paper and working at
the back with a polishing steel, one can actually make a profile portrait
in slight relief out of a cut-out silhouette in white paper, ‘giving it
the appearance of a marble tablet or a plaster cast done by a sculptor,’”
adds this enthusiast.
A treatise on this method exists in English, entitled “Papyro-Plastics;
or the Art of Modelling in Paper, with Directions to cut, fold, join, and
paint the same,” with eight plates, published in the first quarter of the
nineteenth century.
Mention is also made of silhouettes in enamel on copper for snuff-boxes,
lockets, and rings, and the black profile portraits on porcelain in the
German volume.
Finally, the author praises a process by which, by means of a stencil,
one can make one hundred copies a minute, and the reproduction of the
silhouette portrait by woodcut and copper-plate impressions.
A second book appeared simultaneously, if not immediately before the
treatise. It was published by Römhild at Leipzig, and in the following
year (1780) Philip Heinrich Perrenon brought out a third, which is called
“Description of Bon Magic; or the Art of Reduplicating Silhouettes easily
and surely.”
The principal process is one which the author describes as “so simple
that every woman who can make silhouettes can practise it as well as the
best artist.”
“Take a piece of flat tin, polish it on one side, put the drawing on
it and cut out the tin accordingly, and the form is obtained. Rub this
form on the side to be printed off on a flat stone with sand. Damp some
paper, and make a black mixture out of linseed oil and pine-soot. Make
a pair of balls of horsehair covered with sheepskin. Get a small piece
of hat felt. Blacken the shape or form with the black mixture put on
with the horsehair ball; place it on the table, and over it, on the
blackened side, the damp paper, on this a few sheets of waste paper and
then the felt. Now nothing but the press is required; this consists of a
rolling-pin, which can be made by any turner. Roll it over, and when the
paper is taken away the silhouette, _en Bon Magic_, appears printed off.”
Illustrations of various implements are given, besides a simple
pantograph for reducing the life-size shadow. Many pantographs are
mentioned in connection with silhouette work. It is probable the earliest
one was invented by Christopher Scheiner, a Jesuit, at the beginning
of the seventeenth century, and was called the _parallelogrammum
delineatorium_.
We meet it again in England, where mercifully its name is shortened, and
it is interesting to see that it is a woman who applies for protection of
her invention. The abridgment of her specification runs thus:—
_Patents for Inventions._
_Abridgments of Specifications._
_Artists’ Instruments and Materials._
1618-1866.
_A.D. 1775, June 24.—No. 1100._
Harrington, Sarah.—“A new and curious method of taking and
reducing shadows, with appendages and apparatus never before
known or used in the above art, for the purpose of taking
likenesses, furniture, and decorations, either the internal
or external part of rooms, buildings, &c., in miniature.”
The person whose likeness is to be taken is placed so “as
to procure his or her shadow to the best advantage, either
by the rays of the sun received through an aperture into a
darkened room, or by illuminating the room.” The face is then
brought “directly opposite the light, so that the shadow may be
reflected through a glass (or transparent paper);” the glass
is movable in a frame “so as to fix it on a level direction
with the head of the person.” The outline of the shadow is then
traced with a pencil, &c., after which it is “reduced to a
miniature size by an instrument called a pentagrapher.”
Respecting furniture, &c., “the articles required to be taken
are to be placed in such a direction that their shadows may be
reflected as above described, traced out in the same manner and
reduced.” The shadows (as also the likenesses) are cut out “and
placed upon black or other coloured paper or any dark body” and
the external parts are, if required, decorated with cut paper,
&c.
When a likeness is to be taken, accompanied with the external
“part of a room or buildings,” a camera obscura is used; the
reflected shadows are received on paper, the outlines are
carefully marked, and then “either fill’d up with Indian ink or
coloured, or cut out as above directed.”
[Printed, 4d. No Drawings.]
On December 22nd, 1806, Charles Schmalcalder applied for a patent for a
machine of the same type, but of more complicated construction. We give
the abridged specification, for it forms a humble though important link
in silhouette history, having been much used by itinerant silhouettists
at the beginning of the nineteenth century.
_A.D. 1806, December 22.—No. 3000._
Schmalcalder, Charles.—“A delineator, copier, proportionometer,
for the use of taking, tracing, and cutting out profiles,
as also copying and tracing reversely upon copper, brass,
hard wood, cardpaper, paper, asses’ skin, ivory, and glass,
to different proportions, directly from nature, landscapes,
prospects, or any object standing or previously placed
perpendicularly, as also pictures, drawings, prints, plans,
caricatures, and public characters.” This apparatus is
composed of (1) a hollow rod “screw’d together, and from two
to twelve feet, or still longer, chiefly made of copper or
brass, sometimes wood, or any metal applicable;” the diameter
is from half an inch to two inches and upwards, according
to the length; one end carries a fine steel tracer, made to
slide out and in and fastened by a milled-head screw, and in
the other is “a round hole to take up either a steel point,
blacklead pencil, or any other metallic point, which may be
fastened therein by a mill’d-head screw;” (2) a tube about ten
inches long and sufficient in diameter to allow the rod “to
slide easily and without shake in it;” (3) a ball (in which
the tube is fixed) “moveable between two half sockets;” (4)
a frame of wood about two and a half or three feet long (the
length depending on the length of the rod) and supported by
two brackets; (5) a swing-board attached to the frame; (6) a
clamp-screw; (7) a hook hanging on a string for the rod to
rest in; (8) a weight on the back of the frame, connected
thereto by a hook, “to which is attached a string forming a
pulley, serving to prevent the point from acting upon the paper
when not wanted.” Through the sides of the frame are holes at
certain distances corresponding with marks on the rod, and “in
copying any original, supposing to the size of ⅛, ¼, ½, ¾,
&c.,” the swing-board and clamp-screw “must be transplanted to
the different holes and divisions corresponding.” The paper or
other substance is fastened to the swing-board by screws or is
placed in a brass frame which slides up and down the board, and
is kept in position by a spring. “The machine is fixed either
to a partition in any room or to any piece of wood portable,
and so constructed as to be easily fixed upright with a
screw-clamp upon a table or any other stand.” In turning the
rod round in the sockets “the tracer and point in the two ends
of the rod must remain in the centre, to obtain which sometimes
an adjustment with four screws” is required.
Directions are given for using the apparatus in taking
profiles, in copying and tracing pictures, landscapes, &c., and
in copying from nature “landscapes or whatever object exposes
itself to view.”
[Printed, 6d. Drawing. See “Repertory of Arts,” vol. 10 (second
series), p. 241; “Rolls Chapel Reports,” 7th Report, p. 195.]
Still lower was the shadow portrait to fall, when another contrivance was
invented to trick the public into the belief that magic played a part in
producing the likeness. An automatic figure was taken round the country
which it was claimed could draw silhouettes. Somewhere about 1826 the
automaton was brought to Newcastle, and is described as a figure seated
in flowing robes with a style in the right hand, which by machinery
scratched an outline of a profile on card, which the exhibitor professed
to fill up in black. The person whose likeness was to be taken sat at one
side of the figure, near a wall. “One of our party,” says an eye-witness,
“detected an opening in the wall, through which a man’s eye was visible.
This man, no doubt, drew the profile, and not the automaton. Ladies’
heads were relieved by pencillings of gold.”
The son of the great, little Madame Tussaud, who began her wax
modelling in the Palais Royal in the days of the French Revolution,
taking death-masks of many of the guillotine victims, thus advertises
in 1823:—“J. P. Tussaud (son of Madame T.) respectfully informs the
nobility, gentry, and the public in general, that he has a machine by
which he takes profile likenesses. Price, 2s. to 7s., according to style.”
This machine was probably of the kind described by Blenkinsopp in _Notes
and Queries_:—“A long rod worked in a movable fulcrum, with a pencil
at one end and a small iron rod at the other, was the apparatus. He
passed the rod over the face and head, and the pencil at the other end
reproduced the outline on a card, afterwards filled in with lamp-black.”
It is probable that Edward Ward Foster, who described himself
as “Profilist from London,” used such a machine, which he thus
describes:—“The construction and simplicity of this machine render it one
of the most ingenious inventions of the present day, as it is impossible
in its delineation to differ from the outlines of the original, even the
breadth of a hair.
“Mr. F. wishes the public to understand that, besides sketching profiles,
this machine will make a complete etching on copper-plate, by which means
any person can take any number he thinks proper, at any time, from the
etched plate; and for the further satisfaction of the public, he will
most respectfully return the money paid if the likeness is not good.
Profiles in black at 5s. and upwards, etc. Derby, January 1, 1811.”
Mr. West, miniature and profile painter, from London, worked with the
same machine. His prices were:—profiles on card, in black, 5s.; in
colours, 10s. 6d.; on ivory, in colours, one guinea and upwards.
We have succeeded in tracing the recorded description of one of the
sitters who actually had a portrait taken by such an instrument, and also
one who saw such an instrument as late as 1879. The account is by Mr. H.
Hems, Fair Park, Exeter, and brings our tale of mechanical contrivances
in connection with silhouette portraiture to a fitting close:—
“Happening to be at Dundee at the time of the Tay Bridge disaster (it
occurred upon the last Sunday evening in 1879, when 67 people were
drowned), I recollect a Mr. Saunders, a saddler at Broughty Ferry, in the
immediate neighbourhood, possessed and showed me as a curio one of these
identical portrait-taking machines.”