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[Illustration: =November Beechwood.= _D. Burleigh Parkhurst._]
THE PAINTER IN OIL
A COMPLETE TREATISE
ON
THE PRINCIPLES AND TECHNIQUE
NECESSARY TO
THE PAINTING OF PICTURES IN OIL COLORS
BY
DANIEL BURLEIGH PARKHURST
PUPIL OF WILLIAM SARTAIN, OF BOUGUEREAU AND TONY-FLEURY, AND OF
AIMEE MOROT; MEMBER OF THE NEW YORK WATER COLOR CLUB;
FORMERLY LECTURER ON ART IN DICKINSON COLLEGE;
AUTHOR OF "SKETCHING FROM NATURE," ETC.
"_La peinture a l'huile est bien difficile;
Mais beaucoup plus beau que la peinture a l'eau._"
BOSTON:
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
COPYRIGHT, 1898, BY LEE AND SHEPARD
_All Rights Reserved_
THE PAINTER IN OIL
TYPOGRAPHY BY C. J. PETERS & SON
PRESSWORK BY BERWICK & SMITH, NORWOOD PRESS
NORWOOD MASS.
TO
A. M. P.
THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.
_September 4th, 1897._
PREFACE
Books of instruction in the practice of painting have rarely been
successful. Chiefly because they have been too narrow in their point
of view, and have dealt more with recipes than with principles. It is
not possible to give any one manner of painting that shall be right
for all men and all subjects. To say "do thus and so" will not teach
any one to paint. But there are certain principles which underlie all
painting, and all schools of painting; and to state clearly the most
important of these will surely be helpful, and may accomplish
something.
It is the purpose of this book to deal practically with the problems
which are the study of the painter, and to make clear, as far as may
be, the principles which are involved in them. I believe that this is
the only way in which written instruction on painting can be of any
use.
It is impossible to understand principles without some statement of
theory; and a book in order to be practical must therefore be to some
extent theoretical. I have been as concise and brief in the
theoretical parts as clearness would permit of, and I trust they are
not out of proportion to the practical parts. Either to paint well, or
to judge well of a painting, requires an understanding of the same
things: namely, the theoretical standpoint of the painter; the
technical problems of color, composition, etc.; and the practical
means, processes, and materials through which and with which these are
worked out.
It is obvious that one cannot become a good painter without the
ability to know what is good painting, and to prefer it to bad
painting. Therefore, I have taken space to cover, in some sort, the
whole ground, as the best way to help the student towards becoming a
good painter. If, also, the student of pictures should find in this
book what will help him to appreciate more truly and more critically,
I shall be gratified.
D. B. P.
_December 4, 1897_
CONTENTS
PART I.--MATERIALS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Observations 3
II. Canvases and Panels 6
III. Easels 15
IV. Brushes 20
V. Paints 33
VI. Vehicles and Varnishes 61
VII. Palettes 65
VIII. Other Tools 69
IX. Studios 76
PART II.--GENERAL PRINCIPLES
X. Mental Attitude 85
XI. Tradition and Individuality 95
XII. Originality 103
XIII. The Artist and the Student 107
XIV. How to Study 110
PART III.--TECHNICAL PRINCIPLES
XV. Technical Preliminaries 123
XVI. Drawing 126
XVII. Values 138
XVIII. Perspective 146
XIX. Light and Shade 151
XX. Composition 166
XXI. Color 184
PART IV.--PRACTICAL APPLICATION
XXII. Representation 209
XXIII. Manipulation 224
XXIV. Copying 236
XXV. Kinds of Painting 242
XXVI. The Sketch 245
XXVII. The Study 254
XXVIII. Still Life 260
XXIX. Flowers 280
XXX. Portraits 286
XXXI. Landscape 309
XXXII. Marines 335
XXXIII. Figures 347
XXXIV. Procedure in a Picture 371
XXXV. Difficulties of Beginners 389
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
NOVEMBER BEECHWOOD _Parkhurst_ _Frontispiece_
STRETCHERS 11
CANVAS PLIERS 13
DOUBLE-POINTED TACK 13
EASEL 16
EASEL 17
SKETCHING EASEL 18
SKETCHING EASEL 19
BRUSHES.--Red Sable, Round 22
Red Sable 23
Red Sable, Flat 24
Round Bristle 26
Flat Bristle 28
Flat pointed 29
Fan 30
BRUSH CLEANER 31
OIL COLORS 54
OVAL PALETTE 65
ARM PALETTE 67
THE COLOR BOX 70
PALETTE KNIFE 71
THE SCRAPER 72
THE OIL-CUP 73
MAHL-STICKS 73
THREE-LEGGED STOOL 74
SKETCHING CHAIR 74
SKETCHING UMBRELLA 75
DRAWING OF HANDS _Duerer_ 134
EGGS. WHITE AGAINST WHITE 154
THE CANAL _Parkhurst_ 156
BOHEMIAN WOMAN _Franz Hals_ 159
SEWING BY LAMPLIGHT _Millet_ 161
DESCENT FROM THE CROSS 163
THE GOLDEN STAIRS 174
THE SOWER _Millet_ 175
RETURN TO THE FARM _Millet_ 178
THE FISHER BOY _Franz Hals_ 217
BOAR-HUNT _Snyders_ 221
GOOD BOCK _Manet_ 227
SKETCH OF A HILLSIDE 246
THE RIVER BANK _Parkhurst_ 250
STUDY OF A BLOOMING-MILL _Parkhurst_ 257
STILL LIFE, NO. 1 265
STILL LIFE, NO. 2 266
STILL LIFE, NO. 3 267
STILL LIFE, NO. 4 269
STILL LIFE, NO. 5 270
STILL LIFE, NO. 6 271
SWEET PEAS 282
DUeRER _by Himself_ 289
PORTRAIT OF HIS MOTHER _Whistler_ 291
PORTRAIT OF HIMSELF _Valasquez_ 293
PORTRAIT _Parkhurst_ 297
HAYSTACKS IN SUNSHINE _Monet_ 307
ON THE RACE TRACK _Degas_ 314
WILLOW ROAD _Parkhurst_ 317
ENTRANCE TO ZUYDER ZEE _Clarkson Stanfield_ 337
GIRL SPINNING _Millet_ 345
SKETCH OF A FLUTE PLAYER _Parkhurst_ 355
MILTON DICTATING "PARADISE LOST" _Munkacsy_ 363
BUCKWHEAT HARVEST _Millet_ 368
STUDY OF FORTUNE _Angelo_ 373
EBOUCH OF PORTRAIT _Th. Robinson_ 379
LANDSCAPE PHOTO. NO. 1 394
LANDSCAPE PHOTO. NO. 2 395
PART I
MATERIALS
THE PAINTER IN OIL
CHAPTER I
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS
There is a false implication in the saying that "a poor workman blames
his tools." It is not true that a good workman can do good work with
bad tools. On the contrary, the good workman sees to it that he has
good tools, and makes it a part of his good workmanship that they are
in good condition.
In painting there is nothing that will cause you more trouble than bad
materials. You can get along with few materials, but you cannot get
along with bad ones. That is not the place to economize. To do good
work is difficult at best. Economize where it will not be a hindrance
to you. Your tools can make your work harder or easier according to
your selection of them. The relative cost of good and bad materials is
of slight importance compared with the relative effect on your work.
The way to economize is not to get anything which you do not need.
Save on the non-essentials, and get as good a quality as you can of
the essentials.
Save on the number of things you get, not on the quantity you use. You
must feel free in your use of material. There is nothing which hampers
you more than parsimony in the use of things needful to your painting.
If it is worth your while to paint at all, it is worth your while to
be generous enough with yourself to insure ordinary freedom of use of
material.
The essentials of painting are few, but these cannot be dispensed
with. Put it out of your mind that any one of these five things can be
got along without:--
You must have something to paint _on_, canvas or panel. Have plenty of
these.
You must have something to set this canvas on--something to hold it up
and in position. Your knees won't do, and you can't hold it in one
hand. The lack of a practical easel will cost you far more in trouble
and discouragement than the saving will make up for.
You must have something to paint with. The brushes are most important;
in kind, variety, and number. You cannot economize safely here.
You must have paints. And you must have good ones. The best are none
too good. Get the best. Pay a good price for them, use them freely,
but don't waste them.
And you must have something to hold them, and to mix them on; but here
the quality and kind has less effect on your work than any other of
your tools. But as the cost of the best of palettes is slight, you may
as well get a good one.
Now, if you will be economical, the way to do it is to take proper
care of your tools _after you have got them_. Form the habit of using
good tools as they should be used, and that will save you a great deal
of money.
CHAPTER II
CANVASES AND PANELS
You should have plenty of canvas on hand, and it would be well if you
had it all stretched ready for use. Many a good day's work is lost
because of the time wasted in getting a canvas ready. It is not
necessary to have many kinds or sizes. It is better in fact to settle
on one kind of surface which suits you, and to have a few practical
sizes of stretchers which will pack together well, and work always on
these. You will find that by getting accustomed to these sizes you
work more freely on them. You can pack them better, and you can frame
them more conveniently, because one frame will always do for many
pictures. Perhaps there is no one piece of advice which I can give you
which will be of more practical use outside of the principles of
painting, than this of keeping to a few well-chosen sizes of canvas,
and the keeping of a number of each always on hand.
It is all well enough to talk about not showing one's work too soon.
But we all do, and always will like to see our work under as favorable
conditions as possible. And a good frame is one of the favorable
conditions. But good frames are expensive, and it is a great advantage
to be able to have a frame always at hand which you can see your work
in from time to time; and if you only work on four sizes of canvas,
say, then four frames, one for each size, will suit all your pictures
and sketches. Use the same sizes for all kinds of work too, and the
freedom will come, as I say, in the working on those sizes.
Don't have odd sizes about. You can just as well as not use the
regular sizes and proportions which colormen keep in stock, and there
is an advantage in being able to get a canvas at short notice, and it
will be one of your own sizes, and will fit your frame. All artists
have gone through the experience of eliminating odd sizes from their
stock, and it is one of the practical things that we all have to come
down to sooner or later, and the sooner the better,--to have the sizes
which we find we like best, not too many, and stick to them. I would
have you take advantage of this, and decide early in your work, and so
get rid of one source of bother.
=Rough and Smooth.=--The best canvas is of linen. Cotton is used for
sketching canvas. But you would do well always to use good grounds to
work on. You can never tell beforehand how your work will turn out;
and if you should want to keep your work, or find it worth while to go
on with it, you would be glad that you had begun it on a good linen
canvas. The linen is stronger and firmer, and when it has a "grain,"
the grain is better.
=Grain.=--The question of grain is not easy to speak about without the
canvas, yet it is often a matter of importance. There are many kinds
of surface, from the most smooth to the most rugged. Some grain it is
well the canvas should have; too great smoothness will tend to make
the painting "slick," which is not a pleasant quality. A grain gives
the canvas a "tooth," and takes the paint better. Just what grain is
best depends on the work. If you are going to have very fine detail in
the picture use a smoothish canvas; but whenever you are going to
paint heavily, roughly, or loosely, the rough canvas takes the paint
better. The grain of the canvas takes up the paint, helps to hold it,
and to disguise, in a way, the body of it. For large pictures, too,
the canvas must necessarily be strong, and the mere weight of the
fabric will give it a rough surface.
=Knots.=--For ordinary work do not be afraid of a canvas which has
some irregularities and knots on it. If they are not too marked they
will not be unpleasantly noticeable in the picture, and may even give
a relief to too great evenness.
=Twilled Canvas.=--The diagonal twill which some canvases have has
always been a favorite surface with painters, particularly the
portrait painters. This grain is a sympathetic one to work on, takes
paint well, and is not in any way objectionable in the finished
picture.
=The best.=--The best way is to try several kinds, and when you find
one which has a sympathetic working quality, and which has a good
effect in the finished picture, note the quality and use it. You will
find such a canvas among both the rough and smooth kinds, and so you
can use either, as the character of your work suggests. It is well to
have both rough and smooth ready at hand.
=Absorbent.=--Some canvases are primed so as to absorb the oil during
the process of painting. They are very useful for some kinds of work,
and many painters choose them; but unless you have some experience
with the working of them, they are apt to add another source of
perplexity to the difficulties of painting, so you had better not
experiment with them, but use the regular non-absorbent kinds.
=Old and New.=--The canvas you work on should not be too freshly
primed. The painting is likely to crack if the priming is not well
dried. You cannot always be sure that the canvas you get at stores is
old, so you have an additional reason for getting a good stock and
keeping it on hand. Then, if you have had it in your own possession a
long while, you know it is not fresh. Canvas is all the better if it
is a year old.
=Grounds.=--The color of the grounds should be of interest to you.
Canvases are prepared for the market usually in three colors,--a sort
of cool gray, a warm light ochrish yellow, and a cool pinkish gray.
Which is best is a matter of personal liking. It would be well to
consider what the effect of the ground will be on the future condition
of the picture when the colors begin to effect each other, as they
inevitably will sooner or later.
Vibert in his "_La Science de la Peinture_" advocates a white ground.
He says that as the color will be sure to darken somewhat with time,
it is well that the ground should have as little to do with it as
possible. If the ground is white there is so much the less dark
pigment to influence your painting. He is right in this; but white is
a most unsympathetic color to work over, and if you do not want to lay
in your work with _frottees_, a tint is pleasanter. For most work the
light ochrish ground will be found best; but you may be helped in
deciding by the general tone of your picture. If the picture is to be
bright and lively, use a light canvas, and if it is to be sombre, use
a dark one. Remember, too, that the color of your ground will
influence the appearance of every touch of paint you put on it by
contrast, until the priming is covered and out of sight.
=Stretchers.=--The keyed stretcher, with wedges to force the corners
open and so tighten the canvas when necessary, is the only proper one
to use. For convenience of use many kinds have been invented, but you
will find the one here illustrated the best for general purposes. The
sides may be used for ends, and _vice versa_. If you arrange your
sizes well, you will have the sides of one size the right length for
the ends of another. Then you need fewer sizes, and they are surer to
pack evenly.
[Illustration: =Stretchers.=]
=Stretching.=--You will often have to stretch your own canvases, so
you should know how to do it. There is only one way to make the canvas
lay smoothly without wrinkles: Cut the canvas about two inches longer
and wider than the stretcher, so that it will easily turn down over
the edges. Begin by putting in _one tack_ to hold the _middle_ of one
end. Then turn the whole thing round, and stretch tightly lengthwise,
and put a tack to hold it into the _middle_ of the other end. Do the
same way with the two sides. Only four tacks so far, which have
stretched the canvas in the middle two ways. As you do this, you must
see that the canvas is on square. Don't drive the tacks all the way in
at first till you know that this is so. Then give each another blow,
so that the head binds the canvas more than the body of the tack does;
for the pull of the canvas against the side of the tack will tear,
while the head will hold more strands. This first two ways stretching
must be as tight as any after stretching will be or you will have
wrinkles in the middle, while the purpose is to pull out the wrinkles
towards the corners. Now go back to the ends: stretch, and place one
tack each side of the first one. In a large canvas you may put two
each side, but not more, and you must be sure that the strain is even
on both sides. Don't pull too much; for next you must do the same with
the other end which should bear _half_ of the whole stretch. Do just
the same now with the two sides. Now continue stretching and
tacking,--each side of the middle tacks on each end, then on each
side, then to the ends again, and so gradually working towards the
corners, when as you put in the last tacks the wrinkles will
disappear, if you have done your work well. Don't hurry and try to
drive too many tacks into a side at a time, for to have to do it all
over again would take more time than to have worked slowly and done it
properly. You may of course stretch a small canvas with your hands,
but it will make your fingers sore, and you cannot get large canvases
tight without help. You will do well to have a pair of "canvas pliers"
which are specially shaped to pull the canvas and hold it strongly
without tearing it, as other pliers are sure to do.
[Illustration: =Canvas Pliers.=]
When you take canvases out-doors to work, you will find it useful to
strap two together, face inwards, with a double-pointed tack like this
in each corner to keep them apart. You will not have any trouble with
the fresh paint, as each canvas will then protect the other. You can
pack freshly painted canvases for shipping in the same way.
[Illustration: =Double-pointed Tack.=]
=Panels.=--For small pictures panels are very useful, and when great
detail is desirable, and fine, smooth work would make an accidental
tear impossible to mend well, they are most valuable. They are made of
mahogany and oak generally.
Panels are useful, too, for sketching, as you can easily pack them.
They are light, and the sun does not shine through the backs. You can
get them for about the same cost as canvas for small sizes, which are
what you would be likely to use, and they are often more convenient,
particularly for use in the sketch-box.
CHAPTER III
EASELS
The important thing in an easel is that it should be steady and firm;
that it should hold the canvas without trembling, and so that it will
not fall as you paint out towards the edges. You often paint with a
heavy hand, and you must not have to hold on to your picture with one
hand and paint with the other. Nothing is more annoying than a poor
easel, and nothing will give you more solid satisfaction, than the
result of a little generosity in paying for a good one. The ideal
thing for the studio is, of course, the great "screw easel," which is
heavy, safe, convenient, and expensive. We would like to have one, but
we can't afford it, so we won't speak of it. The next best thing is an
ordinary easel which doesn't cost a great deal, but which is firm and
solid and practical. Don't get one of the various three-legged folding
easels which cost about seventy-five cents or a dollar. They tumble
down too often and too easily. The wear and tear on the temper they
cause is more than they are worth. It is true that they fold up out of
the way. But they fold up when you don't expect them to; and you
ought to be able to afford room enough for an easel anyway, if you
paint at all.
[Illustration]
The illustration shows one of the firmest of the inexpensive easels,
and one which will fold up into as small a compass as any practical
easel will. It will hold perfectly well a good-sized canvas, even with
its frame, and will not tumble over on slight provocation.
Another good easel is shown on p. 17. It is more lightly made, not so
well braced, but is more convenient for raising and lowering the
picture, as the catch allows the whole thing to be raised and lowered
at once.
If you are to save money on your easel, don't save on the construction
and strength of it, but on the finish. Let the polish and varnish go,
but get a well-made easel with solid wood. The heavier it is, the less
easily it packs away, to be sure, but the more steadily it will hold
your picture.
[Illustration]
=Sketching Easels.=--The same things are of importance in an easel for
out-of-door work that are needed in a studio easel, except that it
must also be portable. So if you must have a folding easel, get a
_good_ sketching easel; or if you can't have one for in-doors and one
for out-doors, then pay a good price for a sketching easel, and use it
in doors and out also. There are two things which are absolutely
essential in a sketching easel. It _must_ have legs which may be made
longer and shorter, and it _must hold_ the canvas firmly. It is not
enough to lean the canvas on it. The wind blows it over just when you
are putting on an interesting touch, or the touch itself upsets it,
either of which is most aggravating, and does not tend to
satisfactory work. You must not be obliged to sit down to work just
where you don't want to, a little this side or a little that side of
the chosen spot, because the ground isn't even there and the easel
will not stand straight. You must be able to make a leg longer or
shorter as the unevenness of the ground necessitates. It is impossible
to work among rocks or on hillsides if you cannot make your easel
stand as you want it. These things are not to be got round. You might
as well not work as to sketch with a poor sketching easel. And you
must pay a good price for it. The sketching easel that is good for
anything has never been made to sell for a dollar and a half. Pay
three or four dollars for it, at any rate, and use it the rest of your
life. I use an easel every day that I have worked on every summer for
twelve years. Most artists are doing much the same. The easel is not
expensive _per year_ at that rate! It is such an easel as that shown
on the opposite page, and is satisfactory for all sorts of work.
[Illustration]
If you are working in a strong wind, or if you have a large canvas,
such an easel as this illustration shows is the best and safest yet
invented, and it is as good for other work, and particularly when you
want to stand up. And either of these easels will be perfectly
satisfactory to use in the house.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER IV
BRUSHES
An old brush that has been properly cared for is generally better than
a new one. It seems to have accommodated itself to your way of
painting, and falls in with your peculiarities. It is astonishing how
attached you get to your favorite brushes, and how loath you are to
finally give them up. What if you have no others to take their places?
Don't look upon your brushes as something to get as few of as
possible, and which you would not get at all if you could help it.
There is nothing which comes nearer to yourself than the brush which
carries out your idea in paint. You should be always on the lookout
for a good brush; and whenever you run across one, buy it, no matter
how many you have already. Don't look twice at a bad brush, and don't
begrudge an extra ten cents in the buying of a good one. If you are
sorry to have to pay so much for your brushes, then take the more care
of them. Use them well and they will last a long while; then don't
always use the same handful. Break in new ones now and again. Keep a
dozen or two in use, and lay some aside before they are worn out, and
use newer ones. So when at last you cannot use one any more, you have
others of the same kind which will fill its place.
Have all kinds and sizes of brushes. Have a couple of dozen in use,
and a couple of dozen which you are not using, and a couple of dozen
more that have never been used.
What! six dozen?
Well, why not? Every time you paint you look over your brushes and
pick out those which look friendly to what you are going to do. You
want all sorts of brushes. You can't paint all sorts of pictures with
the same kind of brush. Your brush represents your hand. You must give
every kind of touch with it. You want to change sometimes, and you
want a clean brush from time to time. You don't want to feel that you
are limited; that whether you want to or not these four brushes you
must use because they are all you have! You can't paint that way. That
six dozen you will not buy all at once. When you get your first
outfit, get at least a dozen brushes. As you look over the stock and
pick out two or three of this kind, and two or three of that, you will
be astonished to see how many you have--yet you don't know which to
discard. Don't discard any. Buy them all. Then, if you don't paint, it
will not be the fault of your brushes. And from time to time get a
half a dozen which have just struck you as especially good ones, and
quite unconsciously you acquire your six dozen--and even more, I hope!
=Bristle and Sable.=--The brushes suitable for oil painting are of two
kinds,--bristle and sable hair. Of the latter, _red_ sable are the
only ones you should get. They are expensive, but they have a spring
and firmness that the black sable does not have. Camel's hair is out
of the question. Don't get any, if you can only have camel's hair. It
is soft and flabby when used in oil and you can't work well with such
brushes. The same is true of the black sable. But though the red
sables are expensive, you do not need many of them, nor large ones, so
the cost of those you will need is slight.
[Illustration]
The only sables which are in any degree indispensable to you are the
smaller sizes of _riggers_. These are thin, long brushes which are
useful for outlining, and all sorts of fine, sharp touches. You use
them to go over a drawing with paint in laying in a picture, and for
branches, twigs, etc. As their name implies, you must have them for
the rigging of vessels in marine painting also. The three sizes shown
in the cut on the opposite page are those you should have, and if you
get two of each, you will find them useful in all sorts of places.
When you buy them, see that they are elastic and firm, that they come
naturally and easily to a good point, without any scraggy hairs. Test
them by moistening them, and then pressing the point on the
thumb-nail. They should bend evenly through the whole length of the
hair. Reject any which seem "weak in the back." If it lays flat toward
the point and bends all in one place near the ferrule, it is a poor
brush.
[Illustration]
These three larger and thicker sizes come in very useful often and it
would be well if you were to have these too. Sometimes a thick, long
sable brush will serve better than another for heavy lines, etc.
All these brushes are round. One largish flat sable like this it would
be well to have; but these are all the sables necessary.
[Illustration]
=Bristle Brushes.=--The sable brush or pencil is often necessary; but
oil painting is practically always done with the bristle, or "hog
hair," brush. These are the ones which will make up the variety of
kinds in your six dozen. A good bristle brush is not to be bought
merely by taking the first which comes to hand. Good brushes have very
definite qualities, and you should have no trouble in picking them
out. Nevertheless, you will take the trouble to select them, if you
care to have any satisfaction in using them.
=The Bristle.=--You want your brush to be made of the hair just as it
grew on the hog. All hair, in its natural state, has what is called
the "flag." That is the fine, smooth taper towards the natural end of
it, and generally the division into two parts. This gives the bristle,
no matter how thick it may be, a silky fineness towards the end; and
when this part only of the bristle is used in the brush, you will have
all the firmness and elasticity of the bristle, and also a delicacy
and smoothness and softness quite equal to a sable. But this, in the
short hair of an artist's brush, wastes all the rest of the length of
the hair; for it is only by cutting off the "flag," and using that,
which is only an inch or so long, that you can make the brush. Yet the
bristle may be several inches long, and all this is sacrificed for
that little inch of "flag." Naturally the "flag" is expensive, and
naturally also the manufacturer uses the rest of the hair for inferior
brushes. These latter you should avoid. These inferior brushes are
made from the part of the bristle remaining, by sandpapering, or
otherwise making the ends fine again after they are cut off. But it is
impossible to make a brush which has the right quality in this way.
=Selection.=--Never buy a brush without testing its evenness, as has
been advised in the care of sables. Feel carefully the end of the
bristles also, and see that the "flag" is there. All brushes are kept
together for packing by paste in the bristles. See that this is soaked
off before you test your brush.
=Round or Flat.=--It will make little difference whether you use round
or flat brushes. The flat brush is most commonly preferred now, and
most brushes are made that way. So you had better get that kind,
unless you have some special reason for preferring the round ones.
=Handles.=--Whether the handles are nicely polished, also, is of no
importance. What you are to look to is the quality of the bristles and
of the making; the best brushes are likely to be nicely finished all
over. But if you do find a really good brush which is cheaper because
of the plain handle, and you wish to save money, do it by buying the
plain-handled one.
=Sizes and Shapes.=--You will need some quite large brushes and some
smaller ones, some square ones and some pointed.
[Illustration]
Here are three round brushes which, for all sorts of painting, will be
of very general utility. For most of your brushes select the long and
thin, rather than the short and thick ones. The stubby brush is a
useless sort of thing for most work. There are men who use them and
like them, but most painters prefer the more flexible and springy
brush, if it is not weak. So, too, the brush should not be too thick.
A thick brush takes up too much paint into itself, and does not
change its tint so readily. For rubbing over large surfaces where a
good deal of the same color is thickly spread on the canvas, the
thick, strong brush is a very proper tool. But where there is to be
any delicacy of tone, it is too clumsy; you want a more delicate
instrument. The same proportions hold with large and small brushes, so
these remarks apply to all.
=Flat Brushes.=--This is particularly applicable to the flat brushes,
and the more that most of your brushes will be flat.
You should have both broad-ended and pointed brushes among your flat
ones. For broad surfaces, such as backgrounds and skies, the broad
ends come in well; and for the small ones there are many square
touches where they are useful. The most practical sizes are those
shown on page 28. But you will often need much larger brushes than the
largest of these.
For the smaller brushes you will have to be very careful in your
selections. For only the silkiest of bristle will do good work in a
very small brush, and then the temptation is to use a sable, which
should be resisted. Why you should avoid using the sable as a rule is
that it will make the painting too "slick" and edgy. There is a
looseness that is a quality to prize. All the hardness, flatness, and
rigidity that are desirable you can get with the bristle brush. When
you work too much with sables, the overworking brings a waxy and
woodeny surface, which is against all the qualities of atmosphere and
luminosity, and of freshness and freedom of touch.
[Illustration]
Some of the most useful sizes of the more pointed brushes are shown on
opposite page. There are, of course, sizes between these, and many
larger; but these are what you will find the best. It would be better
to have more of each size than to have more sizes. You should try to
work with fewer rather than more sizes, and, as a rule, work more with
the larger than with the smaller brush, even for fine work. You will
work with more force and tend less to pettiness, if you learn to put
in small touches with the largest brush that will do it. Breadth is
not painting with a large brush; but the man who works always with a
small brush instinctively looks for the things a small brush is
adapted to, and will unconsciously drift into a little way of working.
[Illustration]
The fan brush, such as here illustrated, is a useful brush, not to
paint with, but to flick or drag across an outline or other part of a
painting when it is getting too hard and liney. You may not want it
once a month, but it is very useful when you do want it.
[Illustration]
=Care of Brushes.=--The best of economy in brushes lies in your care
of them. You should never let the paint dry on them nor go too long
without careful washing. It is not necessary to wash them every day
with soap and water, but they would be the better for such treatment.
Quite often, once a week, say, you should wash your brushes carefully
with soap and water. You may use warm water, but don't have it hot, as
that may melt the glue which holds the bristles together in the
ferrule. Use strong soap with plenty of lye in it--common bar soap, or
better, the old-fashioned soft soap. Hold several brushes together in
one hand so that the tips are all of a length, dip them together into
or rub them onto the soap, and then rub them briskly in the palm of
the other hand. When the paint is well worked into the lather, do the
same with the other brushes, letting the first ones soak in the soap,
but not in the water. Then rinse them, and carefully work them clean
one by one, with the fingers. When you lay them aside to dry, see that
the bristles are all straight and smooth, and they will be in perfect
condition for next painting.
[Illustration]
=Cleaning.=--But from day to day you need not take quite so much
trouble as this. True, the brushes will keep in better condition if
washed in soap and water every day, but it is not always convenient to
do this. You may then use the brush-cleaner. This is a tin box with a
false bottom of perforated tin or of wire netting about half-way down,
which allows the liquid to stand a half-inch or so above it; so that
when you put your brush in and rub it around, the paint is rinsed from
it, and settles through the perforations to the bottom, leaving the
liquid clear again above it. If you use this carefully, cleaning one
brush at a time, not rubbing it too hard, and pulling the hairs
straight by wiping them on a clean rag, you may keep your brushes in
good condition quite easily. But they will need a careful
soap-and-water washing every little while, besides. The liquid best
for use in this cleaner is the common kerosene or coal oil. Never use
turpentine to rinse your brushes. It will make them brittle and harsh;
but the kerosene will remove all the paint, and will not affect the
brush.
CHAPTER V
PAINTS
Of all your materials, it is on your paints that quality has the most
vital effect. With bad paint your work is hopeless. You may get an
effect that looks all right, but how long will it stand, and how much
better may it not have been if your colors had been good? You can tell
nothing about it. You may have luck, and your work hold; or you may
not have luck, and in a month your picture is ruined. Don't trust to
luck. Keep that element out as much as you can, always. But in the
matter of paints, if you count on luck at all, remember that the
chances are altogether against you. Don't let yourself be persuaded to
indulge in experiments with colors which you have reason to think are
of doubtful quality. Keep on the safe side, and use colors you are
sure of, even if they do cost a little more--at first; for they are
cheaper in the long-run. And even in the time of using of one tube,
generally the good paint does enough more work to cover the difference
of cost.
=Bad Paints.=--Suspect colors which are too cheap. Good work is
expensive. Ability and skill and experience count in making artists'
colors, and must be paid for. If you would get around the cost of
first-class material you must mix it with inferior material.
The first effect you will notice in using poor colors is a certain
hindrance to your facility, due to the fact that the color is
weak--does not have the snap and strength in it that you expect. The
paint has not a full color quality, but mixes dead and flat. This you
will find particularly in the finer and lighter yellows. You need not
fear much adulteration in those paints which are naturally cheap, of
course. It is in those higher-priced colors, on which you must largely
depend for the more sparkling qualities, that you will have most
trouble.
Unevenness of working, and lack of covering or mixing power, you will
find in poor paints also. They have no strength, and you must keep
adding them more and more to other colors to get them to do their
work. All these things are bothersome. They make you give more
attention to the pigments while working than you ought to, and when
all is done, your picture is weak and negative in color.
Another effect to be feared from bad colors is that your work will not
stand; the colors fade or change, and the paint cracks. The former
effect is from bad material, or bad combinations of them in the
working, and the latter mainly from bad vehicles used in grinding
them.
I have seen pictures go to pieces within a month of their
painting--bad paint and bad combinations. Of course you can use good
colors so that the picture will not stand. But that will be your own
fault, and it is no excuse for the use of colors which you can by no
possibility do good work with.
=Good Paints.=--The three things on which the quality of good paint
depends are good pigment, good vehicles, and good preparation.
The pigments used are of mineral, chemical, and vegetable origin. The
term _pigment_ technically means the powdered substance which, when
mixed with a vehicle, as oil, becomes _paint_. The most important
pigments now used are artificial products, chiefly chemical compounds,
including chemical preparations of natural mineral earths.
As a rule, the colors made from earths may be classed as all
permanent; those from chemicals, permanent or not, as the case may be;
and those of vegetable origin fugitive, with few exceptions. Some
colors are good when used as water colors, and bad when used in oil.
Further on I will speak of the fugitiveness and permanency of colors
in detail. I wish here to emphasize the fact that the origin of the
material of which the pigment is made has much to do with the sort of
work that that pigment will do, and with the permanency of the effect
which is produced; and therefore that while a paint may look like
another, its working or its lasting qualities may be quite different.
=The Vehicles.=--The vehicles by which the pigment is made fluent and
plastic are quite as important in their effects. They not only have to
do with the business of drying, owing to the substances used as
dryers, but they may have to do with the chemical action of one
pigment on another.
=The Preparation.=--Finally, the preparation of the pigment demands
the utmost skill and knowledge, if the colors are to be good. The
paints used by the old masters were few and simple, and the fact that
they prepared them themselves had much to do with the manner in which
they kept their color. The paints used now are less simple. We do not
prepare and grind them ourselves, and we could hardly do so if we
wished to, so we are the more dependent on the integrity of the
colorman who does it for us.
The preparation of the paint begins with the chemical or physical
preparation of each pigment, and then comes the mixing of several to
produce any particular color; and finally the mechanical process of
grinding with the proper vehicle to bring it to the proper fineness
and smoothness.
=Grinding.=--The color which the artist uses must be most evenly and
perfectly ground. The grinding which will do for ordinary house paints
will not do for the artist's colors. Neither will the chemical
processes suitable for the one serve for the other. Not only must the
machinery, but the experience, skill and care, be much greater for
artist's colors. Therefore it is that the specialization of
color-making is most important to good colors for the use of the
artist.
=Reliable Makers.=--If you would work to the best advantage as far as
your colors are concerned, both as to getting the best effects which
pure pigments skilfully and honestly prepared will give you, and as to
the permanency of those effects when you have gotten them, see to it
that you get paint made by a thoroughly reliable colorman.
It is not my province to say whose colors you should use; doubtless
there are many colormen who make artists' materials honestly and well.
Nevertheless, I may mention that there are no colors which have been
more thoroughly tested, both by the length of time they have been in
the possession of painters, and by the number of painters who have
used them, than those of Winsor and Newton of London. No colors have
been so generally sold and for so long a time, particularly in this
country, as these, and none are so well known for their evenness and
excellence of quality.
I do not say that these manufacturers do not make any colors which
should not go on the palette of the cautious artist--I believe that
they do not make that claim themselves; but such colors as they do
assert to be good, pure, and permanent, you may feel perfectly safe in
using, and be sure that they are as well made as colors can be. This
is as much as can be said of any paints, and more than can be said of
most. I have used these colors for many years, and my own experience
is that they have always been all that a painter need ask.
The fact that Winsor and Newton's colors can be found in any town
where colors can be had at all, makes me the more free to recommend
them, as you can always command them. This fact also speaks for the
general approval of them.
Inasmuch as certain colors are not claimed to be permanent and others
are, it is for you to compose your palette of those which will combine
safely. This you can do with a little care. Some colors are permanent
by themselves or with some colors, but not in combination with certain
others. You should then take the trouble to consider these chemical
relationships.
It is not necessary for you to study the chemistry of paints, but you
may read what has been ascertained as to the effects of combinations,
and act accordingly. There are practically duplications of
color-quality in pigments which are bad, and in pigments which are
good; so that you can use the good color instead of the bad one to do
the same work. The good color will cost more, but there is no way of
making the bad color good, so you must pay the difference due to the
cost of the better material, or put up with the result of using bad
colors.
=Chemical Changes.=--The causes of change of color in pigments are of
four kinds, all of them chemical effects. 1, the action of light; 2,
the action of the atmosphere; 3, the action of the medium; and 4, the
action of the pigments themselves on each other. The action of light
is to bring about or to assist in the decomposition of the pigment. It
is less marked in oil than in water color, because the oil forms a
sort of sheath for the color particles. The manner in which light does
its deteriorating work is somewhat similar to that of heat. The action
of light is very slow, but it seems to do the same thing in a long
time that heat would do in a short time.
Some colors are unaffected or little affected by light, and of course
you will use them in preference to all others. The atmosphere affects
the paint because of certain chemical elements contained in it, which
tend to cause new combinations with the materials which are already
in combination in the pigment. The action of the oxygen in the air is
the chief agent in affecting the pigment, and it is here particularly
that light, and especially sunlight, assists in decomposition. The air
of towns and cities generally contains sulphuric and sulphurous acids
and sulphuretted hydrogen. This latter gas is most effective in
changing oil paintings, because of its action in turning white lead
dark; and as white lead is the basis of many qualities in painting,
this gas may have a very general action.
Moisture in the atmosphere is also a cause of change, but there is
little to be dreaded from this, as the oil protects the colors.
Oil absorbs oxygen in drying, and so is apt to have an effect on
colors liable to change from that element, and many vehicles contain
materials to hasten the drying which further aid in the deterioration
of the pigment. Bad oil will tend to crack the picture also. The
greatest care should be used in this direction, as the most permanent
colors may be ruined by bad vehicles.
Pigments will not have a deteriorating effect on each other as long as
they are solid. But if one of them is soluble in the medium, then
chemical action commences; but as most pigments are somewhat soluble,
there is always some danger in mixing them. The best we can do is, as
I said before, to try to have on the palette, as far as possible,
only colors which are friendly to each other.
As a student you should not be much occupied, however, with all this.
You must expect that all color will change somewhat. But you need not
use those which change immediately or markedly, and you may use them
in a way which will tend to make them change as little as may be.
Colors have stood for years, and what is practical permanence, not
perfect permanence, is all you need look for. If you think too much of
the permanence of your colors, it will interfere with the directness
of your study. Therefore, decide on a palette which is as complete and
safe as you can make it, excluding the notably bad pigments, and think
no more about it.
When you need to add a new color to your palette, choose it with
reference to those already on it, and go ahead. This is what the whole
subject resolves itself to, practically, for you as a student.
=Opaque and Transparent Colors.=--Some colors, like the madders, have
a jelly-like consistency when mixed with oil, others, the earths among
them, are dense and opaque. We speak of them respectively as
"transparent" and "solid" colors. These qualities, which divide the
paints into two classes, have no relation to their permanency. As far
as that is concerned you use them in the same way, as some
transparent colors are safe and some fugitive; and the same with the
opaque colors.
The only difference is in the fact that, as a rule, the solid colors
are better dryers. But you will notice that while you may mix these
colors together as though this difference between them did not exist,
in certain processes you use them differently. So you will see,
farther on, that for a "glaze" you can use only the transparent or
semi-opaque colors, for a scumble you naturally use the solid ones.
You should know, however, for the sake of clearness, just what is
meant when "solid" or "body" or "opaque" color is spoken of, and what
is meant by "transparent" color.
=Safe and Unsafe Colors.=--Beyond what has been said of the causes of
change in colors it is not necessary that you should know the chemical
constituents of them. If you want to look into the matter further
there are books, such as "Field's Chromatography," which treat fully
of the subject, and which you may study.
But practically you should know which colors are to be depended on and
which not. Let us consider the principal colors in detail then, merely
as to their actual stability. I will speak of them in connection with
the plates of colors at the end of this book. I would like you to
compare what is said of each color with the corresponding color in the
plates. Those colors in the plates which are not spoken of here, you
may consider as useful in showing you the character of different
colors which are made, but which may or may not be used, according as
you may need them. I shall not attempt to mention all the pigments
that are in the market. You need never use more than fifteen or twenty
all told. Many painters use more, it is true; but if you know how to
make the best use of that number, you may safely wait till you "grow
to them" before you bother with more. And I shall speak only of those
which you will find essential or most generally useful, and those
which should be particularly avoided.
=Permanency.=--It should be stated what is meant by a permanent color.
There is no color which is not to be influenced in some way. The most
sound of pigments will change if the conditions favor the change. When
we speak of a permanent color, we mean only one which under the usual
conditions will stand for an indefinite time. By which is meant
ordinary diffused daylight, not direct sunlight, and the ordinary air
under normal conditions. If there be direct sunlight, you may expect
your picture to change sooner or later. But one does not hang his
pictures where the sun's rays will fall on them. If there is any
exceptional condition of moisture in the air, the picture may suffer.
Or if from any cause unusual gases are in the atmosphere, or if the
picture be too long in a dark, close place, the picture may smother
for lack of fresh air, just as any other thing, plant or animal, which
depends on normal conditions of atmosphere would do.
Let us say, then, that what we mean by a permanent color is one which
will stand unchanged for an indefinite length of time in a room which
is of the usual condition of temperature and freedom from moisture,
and where the light is diffused, and such that the direct rays of the
sun are not on the picture often, or to any great extent. Cold will
not hurt a picture if the canvas is not disturbed in that condition,
but to bend or roll it while it is very cold will of course crack it,
and sudden and extreme changes of temperature may have the same
effect. In other words, some care must be used with all pictures as a
matter of course.
COLOR LIST
=Whites.=--_Zinc white_ is the only permanent white, but it lacks body
and is little used. The lead whites, _flake_, _silver_, _cremnitz_,
will darken in time, and will turn yellow with oil, and may change
with or affect change in other pigments. The zinc white is liable to
crack. We have no perfect white, so practically you may consider the
lead whites as permanent enough, as other painters do.
=Yellows.=--_Cadmium_ is permanent in all three of its forms. It is a
color the permanence of which is of great importance; for its
brilliancy is quite essential to modern painting, and if it were not
permanent, the picture would soon lose the very quality for which the
color was used. _The chromes_, which are of similar color-quality, are
less permanent, and are almost sure to turn to a horny sort of yellow;
and a green, which by their use was bright and sparkling, will, in a
few months, lose its freshness--this cadmium will not do. Cadmium is
also to be preferred to chrome, because it is of a much finer
tonality. Greens and yellows made by the admixture of chrome are apt
to be crude as compared with those in which cadmium was used.
_Strontian yellow_ is a permanent and most useful light yellow, much
to be preferred to all other citron yellows except the pale cadmium,
and can be used in place of that if necessary. They are both expensive
colors of about the same cost.
_Naples yellow_ was a very prominent pigment with the older painters.
It is still very much used, but in the simplification of your palette
you may as well leave it out, as you can get the same qualities with
cadmium and white. It is durable and safe, but adds another tube to
your palette which you can well dispense with.
_The ochres_ are among the oldest and safest of pigments. You can use
them with any colors which are themselves permanent. There are several
of them,--_yellow ochre_, _Roman ochre_, _transparent gold ochre_, and
others. They are all native earths, and though they contain iron, they
are sufficiently inert to be thoroughly sound colors.
_The siennas_, burnt and raw, are like the ochres, native earths, very
old and permanent colors, and may be used anywhere.
_The umbers_ are in the same class with the siennas and ochres. They
should all rank among the yellows. The browns of umber and sienna will
make greens with blues.
_Indian yellow and yellow lake_ should both be avoided as fugitive.
_Aureolin_ is a rich, warm golden yellow of the greatest permanence,
and should be used when Indian yellow and yellow lake would be used if
they were permanent.
=Reds.=--The _vermilions_ are permanent when well made. They are of
great body and power, as well as delicacy. They are of two
kinds,--_Chinese_, which is bluish in tone, and _scarlet_ and _orange
vermilion_, which have the yellow quality. Both kinds are useful to
the palette because of the practical necessities of mixing.
_Light red_ is a deep, warm red earth, made by calcining ochre, and
has the same permanence as the other ochres. It is a fine color, of
especial value in painting flesh, and mixes with everything safely.
_The madders_--_rose_, _pink_, _purple_, and _madder carmine_--are the
only transparent reds which are permanent. Whatever the name given
them, they should not be confounded with the _lakes_, which are
absolutely untrustworthy. By reference to the plates you will see that
the madders are practically the same as the lakes in color when first
used. But the lakes fade and the madders do not. The madders cost
about twice as much as the lakes; but you must pay the difference, for
the lakes cannot be made to stand, and you must have the color. There
is nothing for it but to pay twice as much and buy the madders.
_The lakes_--_scarlet_, _geranium_, _crimson_, and _purple_--are all
bad. The madders and lakes are all slow dryers; but unless carelessly
used with other colors which are not yet dry they need not have a bad
effect on the picture from cracking.
Distinguish the so-called _madder lakes_ and the _lakes_; and between
_carmine_, which is a lake, and _madder carmine_, which is a madder.
=Blues.=--The _ultramarine_ of the old masters is practically unused
to-day because of its cost. But the artificial ultramarines, while not
quite of the same purity of color, are equally permanent, and are in
every respect worthy to be used. Of these the _brilliant ultramarine_
is the nearest in color to the real lapis lazuli. The _French
ultramarine_ is less clear and vivid, but is a splendid deep blue, and
most useful. The so-called _permanent blue_ is not quite so permanent
as its name implies, but permanent enough for practical purposes.
_Cobalt blue_ and _cerulean blue_ are two pigments, one very light and
clear, the other darker, which are made of the oxide of the metal
cobalt. In oil they are permanent, and do not change when mixed with
other colors. For delicate tints, when the tones are to be subtly gray
yet full of the primary colors, the cobalts are indispensable. You
should always have them on hand, and generally on your palette.
Cerulean blue is of less importance than the other, but in very clear,
delicate blue skies it is often the only color which will get the
effect.
_Prussian blue_ possesses a depth and power and a quality of color
which make it unique. The greenish tone gives it great value in
certain combinations _as far as its tinting effect is concerned_. But
it is not reliable as a pigment. It changes under various conditions,
and fades with the light. It is not to be depended upon. _Antwerp
blue_, a weaker kind of Prussian blue, is even more fugitive. It is a
pity that these colors will not stand, but as they will not, we must
get along without them.
_Indigo_ has a certain grayish quality which is useful sometimes, but
it cannot be placed among the even moderately permanent colors.
_The blacks_ may be classed as blues, because they will make green if
mixed with yellow. Considered as blues, they are, of course, dense and
negative, and should not be too freely used. But they are all
permanent. The only ones we need speak of are _ivory black_, which has
a reddish cast, and _blue black_, which is weaker, but lacks the
purplish note, which is often an advantage.
=Greens.=--We need mention only a few greens. There are numerous
greens, of various degrees of permanence, but it is not necessary to
speak of all the colors on the market. You could not use them all if
you had them, and we may as well confine ourselves to those we really
need.
_Veridian_, or _emeraude green_, is the deepest and coldest of our
greens, and is permanent. It is too cold, and looks even more so at
night. In use it needs the addition of some yellow which holds its own
at night, such as yellow ochre, or the painting will be impossible in
gaslight, and even worse under electric light.
_Emerald green_ is the same as the French _Veronese_ green, and is
generally permanent. It is said to turn dark, and does lose some of
its brilliancy with time and the effect of impure air. But there are
places where one needs it, especially in sketching, and it is well to
use it sometimes. But bear in mind that it is not absolutely
permanent, and as the quality that it gives, brilliant light green, is
the very one it will lose should it change, don't expect too much of
it.
_Terre verte_ is a very weak color. But it is most tender in its
quality, and is permanent to all intents and purposes. It may get
slightly darker in time, but will not lose the qualities for which it
will be used. It is very useful to use with ivory black or elsewhere,
to slightly modify a reddish tendency, and is a fine glazing color.
_The chrome greens_, by whatever name, Brunswick green, or the
better-known Cinnabar or Zinnober greens, are all bad. They are useful
colors as color, but they will not stand, and you will even get better
color by mixing certain yellows and blues than these will give you, so
you had better lay them aside, tempting as they are.
=Other Colors.=--You will notice that I have said nothing about the
various browns and olives and purples. It is simply because it is
better for you to make all these colors than to get them in the tubes.
The earths and the browns of madder are all good, and the mixing of
madders and good blues will make all the shades of violet and purple
you can possibly want in their purity.
=Palettes.=--We have, then, a number of pigments which are solid and
safe, of each of the primary colors, and of such variety of qualities
that the whole range of possible color is practicable with them in
combination. To recapitulate, let us make a list of them.
THE PERMANENT COLORS.
ZINC WHITE. (LEAD WHITE ENOUGH SO.)
CADMIUM YELLOW.
CADMIUM ORANGE.
CADMIUM YELLOW, PALE.
STRONTIAN YELLOW.
YELLOW OCHRE.
ROMAN OCHRE.
TRANSPARENT GOLD OCHRE.
RAW SIENNA.
BURNT SIENNA.
RAW UMBER.
AUREOLIN.
CHINESE VERMILION.
SCARLET VERMILION.
ORANGE VERMILION.
LIGHT RED.
ROSE MADDER.
PINK MADDER.
PURPLE MADDER.
MADDER CARMINE.
RUBENS MADDER.
ULTRAMARINE BLUE BRILLIANT.
ULTRAMARINE BLUE FRENCH.
PERMANENT BLUE.
COBALT.
CERULEAN BLUE.
IVORY BLACK.
BLUE BLACK.
VERIDIAN.
EMERALD GREEN.
TERRE VERTE.
Here is a list of colors which will work well together, and with which
you can do as much as is possible with colors as far as our present
materials go.
Most of these colors, I am aware, are among the more expensive ones.
This I am sorry for, but cannot help. The good colors are at times the
expensive ones, but as there are no cheaper ones which are permanent
to take their places, it would be the falsest of economy to use
others.
=Palette Principles.=--In making up your palette, you must so arrange
it that you can get pure color when you want it. There is never any
trouble to get the color negative; to get richness and balance is
another matter. If you will refer to the color plates, you will see
that in each of the three primary colors there are pigments which lean
towards one or the other of the other two. The scarlet red is a yellow
red. The Chinese vermilion and the rose madder are blue reds. The same
holds with yellows and blues, as orange cadmium is a red yellow, and
strontian yellow is a greenish yellow. This is, in practice, of the
utmost importance in the absence of the ideal color, for when we deal
with the practical side of pigment, we deal with very imperfect
materials which will not follow in the lines of the scientific theory
of color. If we would have the purest and richest secondary color, we
must take two primaries, each of which partakes of the quality of the
other. To make a pure orange, for instance, we must use a yellow red
and a red yellow. If we used a bluish red and a bluish (greenish)
yellow, the blue in both would give us a sort of tertiary in the form
of a negative secondary instead of the pure rich orange we wanted.
This latter fact is quite as useful in keeping colors gray without too
much mixing when we want them so, but nevertheless we must know how to
get pure color also.
These characteristics have a bearing on the setting of our palette,
for we must have at least two of each of the three primary
colors--red, yellow, and blue--and white. There may be as many more as
you want, but there must be at least that number.
But the character of the work you are doing will also have an
influence on the colors you use. You may not need the same palette for
one sort of picture that is essential to another. You can have a
palette which will do all sorts of work, but a change in the
combinations may often be called for in accordance with the different
color characteristics of your picture.
I will suggest several palettes of different combinations which will
give you an idea of how you may compose a palette to suit an occasion.
I do not say that you should confine yourself to any or all of these
palettes, nor that they are the best possible. But they are safe and
practical, and you may use them until you can find or compose one
better suited to your purposes. They will all be made up from the
colors we have in our list, and will all have the arrangement I called
your attention to as to the use of two of each primary.
It would be well if you were to compare each of the colors with the
corresponding one in the plates at the end of the book, and get
acquainted with its characteristic look.
[Illustration: =No. 1.= =No. 2.= =No. 3.=]
=Expense.=--I have several times referred to the relative expense of
colors, and stated that when the good color was of greater cost than
others, there was nothing for it but to get the best. I cannot modify
that statement, but it is well to say that as a rule the expensive
colors are not those that you use the most of, although some are used
constantly. Vermilion is so strong a color that the cost hardly
matters. Of the deep blues the same is true. But the light yellows,
and the madders and cobalt, will often make you groan at the rapidity
of their disappearance. But you can get more tubes of them, and their
work remains, while were you to use the cheaper paints, the flight of
the color from the canvas would make you groan more, and that
disappearance could never be made good except by doing the work all
over.
=Sizes.=--The cheapest colors come in the largest tubes. In the
illustration, No. 3 represents the full size of the ordinary tube of
the average cost. Some of the most commonly used colors come in larger
tubes at corresponding price. Only professionals get these large sizes
except in the case of white. You use so much of this color that it
hardly pays to bother at all with the ordinary tube of it. Get the
quadruple tube, which is nominally four times as large, but contains
nearly five times as much.
No. 2 represents the actual size of the second size of tubes in which
a few regular-priced colors come; while the smallest tube is the size
of No. 1. In this sized tube all the high-priced colors are put up;
the cadmiums, the madders, vermilions, and ultramarines and cobalts.
The cheap colors are the ordinary earths, such as the ochres, umbers,
siennas, the blacks and whites, and all sorts of greens and blues and
lakes, which you had better have nothing to do with.
=Arrangement.=--In the following palettes I shall give the names of
the colors, as you would look down upon them on your palette. The
arrangement is that of a good many painters, and is a convenient one.
It is as well to arrange them with white at the right, then the
yellows, then the reds, the browns, blues, blacks, and greens. But I
have found this as I give it, to be the best for use, simply because
it keeps the proper colors together, and the white, which you use
most, where it is most easily got at, and I think you will find it a
good arrangement.
=A Cheap Palette.=--This palette I give so that you may see the range
possible with absolutely sound colors which are all of the least
price. You can get no high key with it. All the colors are low in
tone. You could not paint the bright pitch of landscape with it, yet
it is practically what they tried to paint landscape with a hundred
years ago, and it accounts largely for the lack of bright greens in
the landscapes of that date. But for all sorts of indoor work and for
portraits you will find it possible to get most beautiful results. You
will notice there is no bright yellow. That is because cadmium is
expensive and chrome is not permanent. Vermilion is left out for the
same reason. Add orange vermilion and cadmium yellow and orange
cadmium, and you have a powerful palette of great range and absolute
permanency.
WHITE. NAPLES YELLOW.
VENETIAN RED. YELLOW OCHRE.
LIGHT RED. ROMAN OCHRE.
INDIAN RED. TRANSPARENT GOLD OCHRE.
BURNT SIENNA.
RAW UMBER.
PERMANENT BLUE.
IVORY BLACK.
TERRE VERTE.
=An All-Round Palette=:--
WHITE. STRONTIAN YELLOW.
ORANGE VERMILION. CADMIUM YELLOW.
ROSE MADDER. ORANGE CADMIUM.
BURNT SIENNA. YELLOW OCHRE.
RAW UMBER.
COBALT.
ULTRAMARINE.
IVORY BLACK.
TERRE VERTE.
This palette is a pretty large one, and you can do almost anything
with it. But for many things it is better to have more of certain
kinds of colors and less of others. This is a good palette for all
sorts of in-the-house work, and if you call it a still-life palette,
it will name it very well. For a student it will do anything he is apt
to be capable of for a good while.
=A Rich Low-Keyed Portrait and Figure Palette=:--
WHITE. CADMIUM.
CHINESE VERMILION. ORANGE CADMIUM.
LIGHT RED. YELLOW OCHRE.
ROSE MADDER. TRANSPARENT GOLD OCHRE.
RAW UMBER.
COBALT.
BLUE BLACK.
TERRE VERTE.
=A Landscape Palette.=--Landscape calls for pitch and vibration. You
must have pure color and great luminosity, yet a range of color which
will permit of all sorts of effects. The following will serve for
everything out-of-doors, and I have seen it with practically no change
in the hands of very powerful and exquisite painters. There are no
browns and blacks in it because the colors which they would give are
to be made by mixing the purer pigments, so as to give more life and
vibration to the color. The blackest note may be gotten with
ultramarine and rose madder with a little veridian if too purple; the
result will be blacker than black, and have daylight in it. The ochre
is needed more particularly to warm the veridian.
WHITE. STRONTIAN YELLOW.
ORANGE VERMILION. CADMIUM YELLOW.
PINK MADDER. ORANGE CADMIUM.
ROSE MADDER. YELLOW OCHRE.
COBALT.
ULTRAMARINE.
VERIDIAN.
EMERALD GREEN.
If you paint figures out-of-doors you will need this same palette.
Madder carmine or purple madder, and cerulean blue may also usefully
added to this list.
=A Flower Palette.=--For painting flowers the colors should be capable
of the most exquisite and delicate of tints. There should be no color
on the palette which cannot be used in any part of the picture. The
range need not be so great in some respects as in others, but the
richness should be unlimited. In the matter of greens, it is true
though hard to convince the amateur of, that if there were no green
tube in your box, and you mixed all your greens from the yellows and
blues, the picture would be the better. As to the browns, they will
put your whole picture out of key. In this palette I am sure you will
find every color which is needed. There are few greens, but those
given can be used to gray a petal as well as to paint a leaf;
therefore there is no likelihood of your using a color in a leaf which
is not in tone with the flower.
I am calculating on your using all your ability in studying the
influence of color on color, and in mixing pure colors to make gray.
Here as elsewhere in these palettes I have in mind their use according
to the principles of color and light and effect as laid down in the
other parts of the book, which deal specially with those principles.
If you do not understand just why I arrange these palettes as I do,
turn to the chapters on color, and on the different kinds of painting,
and I think you will see what I mean, and understand better what I
say, about these combinations.
Of course you do not need all of these colors on your palette at the
same time. Some are necessary to certain flowers whose richness and
depth you could hardly get without them. The colors you should have as
a rule on your palette are these:--
WHITE. STRONTIAN YELLOW.
ORANGE VERMILION. CADMIUM YELLOW.
PINK MADDER. YELLOW OCHRE.
ROSE MADDER.
COBALT.
ULTRAMARINE.
VERIDIAN.
EMERALD GREEN.
To add to these when needed, you should have in your box, pale and
deep cadmium, Chinese vermilion, madder carmine, and purple madder.
CHAPTER VI
VEHICLES AND VARNISHES
A vehicle is any liquid which is mixed with the color to make it
fluent. The vehicle may be ground with the pigment or mixed with it on
the palette, or both. Oil colors are of course ground in oil as a
vehicle; but it is often necessary or convenient to add to them, in
working, such a vehicle as will thin them, or make them dry better.
Those which thin or render more fluent the paint are oils and spirits;
those which make them dry more quickly are "dryers" or "siccatives."
All vehicles must of necessity have an effect on the permanency of the
pigments. Bad vehicles tend to deteriorate them; good ones preserve
them.
=Oils.=--The most commonly used oils are linseed and poppy oil. They
are neither of them quick dryers, and are usually mixed with sugar of
lead, manganese, etc., to hasten the drying. These have a tendency to
affect the colors; but if one will have recourse to none but the pure
oils, he must be patient with the drying of his picture. For this
reason it would be well to use vehicles with the colors on the palette
as little as possible--and that is against thin and smooth painting.
Oil has the tendency to turn dark with time, thus turning the color
dark also. The only way to reduce this tendency is to clarify the oil
by long exposure to the sunlight. The early German painters used oil
so clarified, and their pictures are the best preserved as to color of
any that we have. But the drying is even slower with purified oil than
with the ordinary oil.
It would be best, then, to use oil as little as may be in painting,
and if you need a dryer, use it only as you actually need it in bad
drying colors, and then very little of it.
The essences of turpentine and of petroleum may be used to thin the
paint, and are preferable to oil, because they have less darkening
tendency. They do not, however, bind the color so well, and the paint
should not be put on too thinly with them. Usually there is enough oil
ground with the pigment as it comes in the tubes to overcome any
probability of the paint scaling or rubbing when thinned with
turpentine, but in the slow-drying, transparent colors there will be a
liability to crack. Moderation in the use of any and all vehicles is
the best means of avoiding difficulty. Use vehicles only when you need
them, not habitually, and then only as much as there is real need of.
If you use oil, use the lighter oils, and expect some darkening in
time. Prefer turpentine to oil, and expect your color to dry rather
"dead," or without gloss, by its use. If you intend to varnish, this
is all right. If you do not intend to varnish the picture, keep the
color as near the pure tones as you can. The grayer the color, the
more the "dead" or "flat" drying will make it look colorless.
=Varnishes.=--When the picture is done, after it is dry, varnishes are
used to bring out the freshness of color, and to preserve the surface
from outside influences of all sorts. A picture must be well dried
before it is varnished, or it is likely to crack; six months is not
too long to be safe. If you are in a hurry to varnish, use a temporary
or retouching varnish.
The best varnish is necessary for use on pictures. Never use any
except a varnish especially made for the purpose by a reliable
colorman. Those made by Winsor and Newton may all be depended upon.
Pay a good price for it, and don't use too much.
Mastic varnish is that which is most favorably known. Be sure you get
a good and pure quality.
Varnishes are made from various gums or resins dissolved in a solvent
such as alcohol, turpentine, or oil, as the case may be. The lighter
gums are the best for pictures, because they do not affect the color
of the picture. Much care should be used in putting on the
varnish--that it is even and as thinly distributed as will serve the
purpose. It should not be flowed on, but carefully worked out with a
clean brush, and then kept from dirt and dust until dry.
The finer varnishes in oil or turpentine are best for ordinary use.
Those in alcohol do not hold their freshness so well.
Varnishes are sometimes used as siccatives, and to mix with colors
which are liable to affect other colors, or to lack consistency.
Usually, however, they are not needed.
CHAPTER VII
PALETTES
The most important qualities in a palette are that it should be large
enough, and that it should balance well on the thumb. Whether it is
round or square is a slight matter. The oval palette is usually best
for the studio because the corners are seldom of use, and add weight.
But for sketching, the square palette fits the box best.
[Illustration: =Oval Palette.=]
Get a palette much larger than you think you want. When you get it on
your thumb the mixing-surface is much less than there seemed to be
before it was set, for all the actual surface is between the row of
colors and the thumb. If the palette is polished it is not essentially
better; it is easier to keep clean, as far as looks go, but of no
greater real service. If the choice is between a larger unpolished and
a smaller polished one, the price being the consideration, get the
larger one.
Get a light wood in preference to a dark wood for a choice of color,
but not if there is better grain or lighter weight in the darker
palette. It is an assistance in painting not to have to compare the
tint you are mixing with too dark a surface, for the color looks
lighter than it is; so the light wood will help you to judge justly of
the color while the palette is new. When it has been worked on a while
it will come to have a sympathetic color anyway.
This bears on the cleanliness of your palette. It is a mistake to
consider that cleanliness demands that the palette should be cleaned
to the wood and polished after every painting. On the contrary, if a
little of the paint is rubbed out over the palette every time it is
cleaned, after a few weeks there will come a fine smooth polish of
paint, which will have a delicate light gray color, which is a most
friendly mixing surface.
=Adapting.=--When you get a new palette, before you use it take a
little trouble to carve out the thumb-hole to fit your thumb. Make it
large enough to go over the ball of the thumb, and set easily on the
top of the hand. When the hole is too small the thumb gets numb after
working a little while, which this will obviate.
=Cleanliness.=--The cleanliness of a palette consists in its being
always in such a condition that you can handle it without getting
dirty; that the mixing-surface will not foul the freshly mixed paint;
and that the paint around the edge is always so that you can pick up a
fresh, clean brushful. If you try to clean off all your color every
day and polish your palette nicely, you will not only take up more
time with your palette than you do with your painting, but the fact
that some left-over paint may be wasted will make you a little stingy
in putting on fresh paint, which is one of the worst habits a beginner
can fall into. You cannot paint well unless you have paint enough on
your palette to use freely when you need it. It is all well enough to
put on more, but nothing is more vexing than to have to squeeze out
new paint at almost every brushful. You must have paint enough when
you begin, to work with, or you waste too much time with these
details.
[Illustration: =Arm Palette.=]
If you are painting every day, leave the good paint where it is at the
end of your work, and scrape off all the muddy or half-used piles, and
clean carefully all the palette except those places where the paint is
still fresh and pure. Then, when you have to add more to that, clean
that place with the palette-knife before squeezing out the new color.
In this way the palette will not look like a centre-table, but it will
be practically clean, have a good clear mixing-surface, and you will
neither waste paint nor be stingy with it.
=The Arm Palette.=--For painting large canvases, where the
largest-sized brushes are used and paint must be mixed in greater
quantities, the arm palette is a most convenient thing if it is well
balanced. It is in the way rather than otherwise for small pictures,
and is useful only as it is particularly called for.
CHAPTER VIII
OTHER TOOLS
It remains to speak of those tools which are not essentials, but
conveniences, to painting. Even as conveniences, however, they are of
importance enough to have an influence on your work. You can paint
without them, but you will work more easily for the having of them;
and something of the sort, although not necessarily of the same kind,
you must have. You may improvise something, in other words, to take
the place of these, but you would be wiser to get those which are made
for the purpose.
=The Box.=--First, the box. You must keep your things together
somehow, and it would be as well that you keep them in a box which is
portable and suited to the purpose. When you sketch you must have a
proper box, and why not have one which is equally serviceable in the
house? Those most commonly sold to amateurs are of tin, and they are
various in size and construction, and not too expensive. The only
thing against them is the difficulty of adapting them to service
different from that they were designed for; that is, if you want to
put in a different sort of panel, or if you want to fix it in the
cover for convenience, or anything like that, you cannot readily do
it, because you cannot use tacks in them. This counts for more than
would seem on a sketching trip. But the tin box is light, and is not
easily broken, and while it is in shape is practical.
[Illustration: =The Color Box.=]
The box to be most recommended is the wooden one. It costs more than
the tin one,--about twice as much; but you can always arrange it for
an emergency very readily, and if it gets broken you can fix it
yourself, or get any carpenter to do it for you, while you may be a
good many miles from a tinner, who would be necessary to mend your tin
box.
You had better not get too large a box. Get one long enough for the
brushes; but if you are going to use it out-of-doors much, get a
narrow one with a folding palette, so as to save weight. In this way
you will get a larger palette than you could get in a smaller and
wider box, which is an important consideration.
[Illustration: =Palette Knife.=]
=The Palette-Knife.=--Of more immediate necessity to your painting is
the palette-knife. You cannot keep the palette clean without it. Now
and again you may want to mix colors, or even paint with it. But you
constantly get rid of the too much mixed color on your palette with
it, and this is essential to good painting. Take some care to select a
good knife; have the blade long enough to be springy and flexible, but
not too long. About five inches from the wood of the handle to the end
of the blade is a good length. And see that it bends in a true curve
from one end to the other, and is not stiff at the end and weak in the
middle. It should have the same even elasticity that a brush should
have.
For painting you need a "trowel palette-knife," which has a bent
shank, making the blade and the handle on different levels, so that as
you press the blade to the canvas, the fingers are kept away from the
painted surface. The shank should be round, and the blade very fine
and flexible. The knife should balance nicely in the hand, and turn
freely in the fingers, so that you can paint with either face of the
blade with equal balance. It takes some care to pick out a good
trowel-knife, as a poor one is worse than none.
=The Scraper.=--You frequently need to scrape rough paint from a
canvas or a picture, and you need to scrape strongly to get a dirty
palette clean. You can use an old razor for the first purpose, or a
piece of broken glass, if you use it carefully, and any old knife can
be used to clean your palette. But a regular tool is better than
either. The scraper here shown is the best.
[Illustration: =The Scraper.=]
=The Oil-Cup.=--Do not use oils and vehicles very much. But when you
need them you must have something to keep them in, convenient to the
brush when working. It should have a spring to hold it on to the
palette, and of such form that the contents are not easily spilled by
the movement of the hand or the body when painting. The form here
illustrated is the best that has been brought out so far.
[Illustration: =The Oil-Cup.=]
=The Mahl-Stick.=--Sometimes you want to rest the hand when painting,
for steadiness. The "mahl-" or rest-stick has a ball on the end, which
one usually covers with a wad of rag, so that it can be placed against
the canvas without injury, and the hand rested on it. It is so light
that it can be held with the brushes in the palette hand, and stiff
enough to support the brush-hand.
[Illustration: =Mahl-Sticks.=]
=Sketching Adjuncts.=--Out-of-doors you must have a seat, and you
should have an umbrella. The best seat for a man, because it can be
folded into so small a space, is the three-legged stool. This is not
usually satisfactory for a woman, whose skirts tip it over. The better
seat for her is shown below. The back is not very firm, but it does
give support, and the whole is light and strong.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
The umbrella should be large and light, and one such as the
illustration, with a valve in the top to let the wind and hot air
through, will be found cooler and less easily blown over. You should
have some strong rings sewed on to it, so that you can fasten it from
four sides by strings, to keep it steady if the wind blows hard. The
umbrella should be of light-colored material, preferably white; but if
it is lined with black, the shade will be better, and give no false
glow to the color.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER IX
STUDIOS
A painting-room is always a matter of serious consideration, and to
the beginner one of difficulty. The arrangement of light is not easy,
and a special window is almost always out of the question; yet in some
way the light must be so managed that the canvas is not covered with
reflected lights which prevent one from seeing what the paint is
really like.
=The North Light.=--The first thing to be looked for is a steady light
which will be always about the same, and not be sunny part of the time
and in the shade the rest. A window looking to the north for this
reason is generally selected. The sun does not come into it, and the
light is diffused and regular. The effect of the light in the studio
is cool, but colors are justly seen in it, and the light that falls on
any object or model in it will be always the same. If there is to be a
skylight, this should be arranged in the same way. The sash must not
be flat, but must be nearly enough to the vertical to prevent the
sun's direct rays from entering, and it must for that purpose face to
the north. This makes the skylight practically a high north light in
the roof or ceiling, and that is what it should be.
Whether the sash is above the ceiling or just below it, in the roof or
in the wall, is of no particular importance. The thing to be seen to
is that it is high enough for the light to enter above the head of the
painter, and that it be so directed that only north light can come in.
The size of the window is also to be carefully considered. It should
not be too large. Too much light will be sure to interfere with the
proper control of light and shade on your model, and too little will
make your painting too dark. The position of the window with reference
to the shape of the room has to do with this. The most probable form
of a room is long and narrow. For painting it is better that the
window be in the middle of the end wall, high up, rather than in the
middle of the side wall. You will find that you can more easily get
distance from your model, and at the same time get the light both on
him and on your canvas. But a painting-room should not be too narrow.
About one-third longer than it is wide, with the window in one end,
will give you a good light, and the further end of the room will not
be too dark, as it would be apt to be if the room were longer.
Preferably, too, the window should be to the left of the centre of the
wall rather than to the right, as you face it; so that when you are
as near the side wall as you can get, with the light over your left
shoulder (as it should be), the light will strike on the canvas well,
and not too directly on the front of the model. It will give you a
better lateral position to the window, in other words. If you have to
accept a window in a side wall, this is even more to be looked for. If
the window is to the right of the centre, you will have a strong
side-light on your model; but you will either have no light on your
canvas, or you will have to turn so that the light falls on your
canvas from the right, which is awkward, as the paint is in the shadow
of the hand and brush which puts it on.
The height of the lower part of the window should be at least six feet
from the floor, and for ordinary purposes the proportion of window
space to floor space should be about one-tenth. It is impossible to
give a rule; but if the floor is about twelve feet by sixteen, say, a
window about five feet by four will be enough, or six and a half by
three if it is placed horizontally. If you want intense light with
strong contrast of light and shade on your model, have the window
smaller and squarer, and place your easel just under it, where the
light is good. The rest of the room will be dark. Better have the
window large enough, and have it so curtained that you can cut off as
much light as you need to. All this is if you are going to make
yourself a window; in which case you will think well before you commit
yourself. More probably you will have to get along as best you can
with the ordinary room and the ordinary window. In which case get a
high room with the window running up as close to the ceiling as
possible, and facing north, then you can curtain it so as to control
the light.
=Arrangement of Ordinary Windows.=--For a good working light you
should have only one window in your room; for the light coming in from
two openings will make a crossing of rays which will not only
interfere with the simplicity of the effect of light and shade on your
model, but will make a glare on your canvas. You can either close the
light out of the right-hand window, or, better, arrange a curtain so
the light from one window will not fall on the same place as that from
the other.
When you are working from still life or from a model this is often an
advantage, for you can have a strong side-light on the model, and a
second light on the canvas. To arrange this, have a sort of crane made
of iron, shaped like a carpenter's square, which will swing at right
angles with the wall, the arm reaching, say, six feet into the room.
Swing this by means of staples well up to the ceiling, so that the
light cannot get over it, and near to the right-hand window. From
this arm you can hang a thick, dark curtain, which will cover and shut
out the light from the right-hand window when swung back over it. If
you want to pose your model in the light of that window, while you
paint in that of the other, swing the curtain out into the room at
right angles to the wall, and it will prevent a cross light from the
two windows; so that when the model is posed back of the curtain the
light from that window will not fall on the canvas, nor the light from
the other fall on the model.
The light will be best on your picture coming from well above you as
you work. There will then be no reflections on the paint. You may find
it necessary to cover entirely the lower half of the window which
gives your painting-light. You will find it useful to have a shade of
good solid holland, arranged with the roller at the bottom, and a
string running up through a pulley at the top; so that you may pull
the shade _up_ from the bottom instead of _down_ from the top, and so
cut off as much of the lower part of the window as is necessary.
If you need the light from the lower part of the window, you may make
a thin curtain of muslin to cover the lower sash, which will let the
light through, but diffuse the rays and prevent reflection.
=The Size of the Studio.=--Of course a large studio is a good thing,
but it is not always at one's command. But you should try to have the
room large enough to let you work freely, and have distance enough
from the model. The size that I have mentioned, twelve feet by
sixteen, is as small as one should have, and one that you can almost
always get. If the room is smaller than that, you cannot do much in
it, and fifteen by twenty will give ample space.
PART II
GENERAL PRINCIPLES
CHAPTER X
MENTAL ATTITUDE
There is a theoretical and a practical side to art. The business of
the student is with the practical. Theories are not a part of his
work. Before any theoretical work is done there is the bald work of
learning to see facts justly, in their proper degree of relative
importance; and how to convey these facts visibly, so that they shall
be recognizable to another person.
The ideals of art are for the artist; not for the student. The
student's ideal should be only to see quickly and justly, and to
render directly and frankly.
Technique is a word which includes all the material and educational
resources of representation. The beginner need bother himself little
with what is good and what is bad technique. Let him study facts and
their representation only. Choice of means and materials implies a
knowledge by which he can choose. The beginner can have no such
knowledge. Choice, then, is not for him; but to work quite simply with
whatever comes to hand, intent only on training the eye to see, the
brain to judge, and the hand to execute. Later, with the gaining of
experience and of knowledge, for both will surely come, the
determination of what is best suited for the individual temperament or
purpose will work itself out naturally.
The student should not allow the theoretical basis of art to interfere
with the directness of his study of the material and the actual.
Nevertheless, he should know the fact that there is something back of
the material and the actual, as well as in a general way what that
something is.
Because the student's business is with the practical is no reason why
he should remain ignorant of everything else. It is important that he
should think as a painter as well as work as a painter. If he has no
thought of what all this practical is for, he will get a false idea of
his craft. He will see, and think of, and believe in, nothing but the
craftsmanship: that which every good workman respects as good and
necessary, but which the wise workman knows is but the perfect means
for the expression of thought.
Some consideration, then, of the theoretical side of art is necessary
in a book of this kind. A number of considerations arise at the
outset, about which you must make up your mind:--
Is judgment of a picture based on individual liking?
Can you hope to paint well by following your own liking only?
Is it worth your while to try to do good work?
Can you hope to do good work at all?
You must decide these questions for yourself, but you must remember
that it depends upon how you decide them whether your work will be
good or bad.
To take the last consideration first, you may be sure that it is worth
while to try to do good work, and mainly because you may hope to do as
good work as you want to do. That is, precisely as good work as you
are willing to take the trouble to learn to do. Talent is only another
name for love of a thing. If you love a thing enough to try to find
out what is good, to train your judgment; and to train your abilities
up to what that judgment tells you is good, the good work is only a
matter of time.
You will notice that you must train your judgment as well as your
ability; not all at once, of course. But how can you hope to do good
work if you do not know what good work is when you see it? If you have
no point of view, how can you tell what you are working for, what you
are aiming at? And if you do not know what you are aiming at, are you
likely to hit anything?
=Train Your Judgment.=--Let us say, then, that you must train your
critical judgment. How are you to set about it?
In the first place, don't set up your own liking as a criterion. Make
up your mind that when it comes to a choice between your personal
taste and that of some one who may be supposed to know, between what
you think and what has been consented to by all the men who have ever
had an opinion worthy of respect, you may rest assured that you are
wrong. And when you have made up your mind to that, when you have
reached that mental attitude, you have taken a long step towards
training your judgment; for you have admitted a standard outside of
mere opinion.
Another attitude that you should place your mind in is one of
catholicity--one of openness to the possibility of there being many
ways of being right. Don't allow yourself to take it for granted that
any one school or way of painting or looking at things is the only
right one, and that all the other ways are wrong. That point of view
may do for a man who has studied and thought, and finally arrived at
that conclusion which suits his mind and his nature,--but it will not
do for a student. Such an attitude is a sure bar to progress. It
results in narrowness of idea, narrowness of perception, and
narrowness of appreciation. You should try all things, and hold fast
to that which is good. And having found what is good, and even while
holding fast to it, you should remember that what is good and true for
you is not necessarily the only good and true for some one else. You
must not only hold to your own liberty of choice, but recognize the
same right for others. If this is not recognized, what room has
originality to work in?
The range of subject, of style, and of technical methods among
acknowledged masters, should alone be proof of the fact that there is
no one way which is the only good way; and if you would know how to
judge and like a good picture, the study of really great pictures,
without regard to school, is the way to learn.
=How to Look at Pictures.=--The study of pictures means something more
than merely looking at them and counting the figures in them. It
implies the study of the treatment of the subject in every way. The
management of light and shade; the color; the composition and drawing;
and finally those technical processes of brush-work by means of which
the canvas gets covered, and the idea of the artist becomes visible.
All these things are important in some degree; they all go to the
making of the complete work of art: and you do not understand the
picture, you do not really and fully judge it, unless you know how to
appreciate the bearing on the result, of all the means which were used
to bring it about. All this adds to your own technical knowledge as
well as to your critical judgment, both of which ends are important
to your becoming a good painter.
=Why Paint Well.=--You see I am assuming that you wish to be a good
painter. There is no reason why you should be a bad painter because
you are not a professional one. The better you paint the better your
appreciation will be of all good work, the keener your appreciation of
what is beautiful in nature, and the greater your satisfaction and
pleasure in your own work. There are better reasons for painting than
the desire to "make a picture." Painting implies making a picture, it
is true; but it means also seeing and representing charming things,
and working out problems of beauty in the expression of color and
form: and this is something more than what is commonly meant by a
picture. The picture comes, and is the result; but the making of it
carries with it a pleasure and joy which are in exact proportion to
the power of appreciation, perception, and expression of the painter.
This is the real reason for painting, and it makes the desire and the
attempt to paint well a matter of course.
=Craftsmanship.=--The mechanical side of painting naturally is an
important part of your problem. You cannot be too catholic in your
opinion with regard to it. It is vital that you be not narrowed by any
prejudices as to the surface effect of paint. Whether the canvas be
smooth or rough, the paint thick or thin, the details few or
many,--the goodness or badness of the picture does not depend on any
of these. They are or should be the result, the natural outcome
because the natural means of expression, of the manner in which the
picture is conceived. One picture may demand one way of painting and
another demand a quite different way; and each way be the best
possible for the thing expressed. It all depends on the man; the
make-up of his mind; the way he sees things; the results he aims to
attain,--all of them controlled more or less by temperament and
idiosyncrasy. What would produce a perfect work for one man would not
do at all for another. The works of the great masters offer the most
marked contrasts of ideal and of treatment, and painters have varied
greatly in their manner of some painting at different periods of their
lives. Rembrandt, for instance, painted very thinly in his early
years, with transparent shadows and carefully modelled, solidly loaded
lights. Later in life he painted most roughly; and "The Syndics" was
so heavily and roughly loaded that even now, after two hundred years,
the paint stands out in lumps--and this is one of his masterpieces. So
again, if you will compare the manipulation in the work of Raphael
with that of Tintoretto, that of Rubens with that of Velasquez, or
most markedly, the work of Frans Hals with that of Gerard Dou, you
will see that the greatest extremes of handling are consistent with
equal greatness of result.
=Finish.=--From this you may conclude that what is generally
understood by the word "finish" is not necessarily a thing to be
sought for. The tendency of great painters is rather away from
excessive smoothness and detail than towards it. While a picture may
be a good one and be very minute and smooth, it by no means follows
that a picture is bad because it is rough. The truth is that the test
of a picture does not lie in the character of the pigment surface _in
itself_ at all, nor in whether it be full of detail or the reverse,
but in the conception and in the harmonious relation of the technique
to the manner in which the whole is conceived. The true "finish" is
whatever surface the picture happens to have when the idea which is
the purpose of the picture is fully expressed, with nothing lacking to
make that expression more complete, nor with anything present which is
not needed to that completeness. This too is the truth about
"breadth," that much misunderstood word. Breadth is not merely breadth
of brush stroke. It is breadth of idea, breadth of perception; the
power of conceiving the picture as a whole, and the power of not
putting in any details which will interfere with the unity of effect.
=Intent.=--In this connection it would be well to bear in mind the
purpose of the work on which the painter may be engaged. A man would,
and should, work very differently on canvases intended for a study, a
sketch, and a picture. The study would contain many things which the
other two would not need. It is the work in which and by which the
painter informs himself. It is his way of acquiring facts, or of
assuring himself of what he wants and how he wants it. And he may put
into it all sorts of things for their value as facts which he may
never care to use, but which he wishes to have at command in case he
should want them.
The sketch, on the other hand, is a note of an effect merely, or of a
general idea, and calls for only those qualities which most
successfully show the central idea, which might sometime become a
picture, or which suggests a scheme. A carefully worked-up sketch is a
contradiction in terms, just as a careless study would be.
A picture might have more or less of the character of either of these
two types, and yet belong to neither. It might have the sketch as its
motive, and would use as much or as little of the material of the
study as should be needed to make the result express exactly the idea
the painter wished to impart, and no more and no less.
All these things should be borne in mind, as you study the
characteristics of paintings to learn what they can mean to you beyond
the surface which is obvious to any one; or as you work on your own
canvas to attain such power or proficiency, such cleverness or
facility, as you may conclude it is worth your while to try for.
CHAPTER XI
TRADITION AND INDIVIDUALITY
A picture is made up of many elements. Certain of them are essentially
abstract. They must be thought out by a sort of _mental vision without
words_. This is the most subtle and intimate part of the picture.
These are the means by which the ideal is brought into the picture.
=Line, Mass, and Color.=--Such are the qualities of _line_,
dissociated from representation; of _mass_, not as representing
external forms; and _color_, considered as a _quality_, not as yet
expressed visibly in pigment, nor representing the color of any
_thing_. When these elements are combined they may make up such
conceptions as proportion, rhythm, repetition, and balance, with all
the modifications that may come from still further combination.
It is because these elements are qualities in themselves beautiful
that actual objects not beautiful may be made so in a painting, by
being treated as _color_ or _line_ or _mass_, and so given place on
the canvas, rather than as being of themselves interesting. A face,
for instance, may be ugly as a _face_, yet be beautiful as color or
light and shade in the picture. These qualities, I say, do not
represent--they do not necessarily even exist, except in the mind to
which they are the terms of its thought. Nevertheless, they are the
soul of the picture. For whatever the subject, or the objects chosen
for representation, it is by working out combinations of these
elements, through and by means of those objects, that the picture
really is made.
The picture, _as a work of art_, is not the representation of objects
making up a subject, but a fabric woven of color, line, and mass; of
form, proportion, balance, rhythm, and movement, expressed through
those actual objects in the picture which give it visible form.
I do not purpose to go deeply into these matters here. Elsewhere, as
they bear practically on the subject in hand, as in the chapters on
"Composition" and on "Color," I shall speak of them more fully. But I
wish here to call attention to this abstract side of painting in order
to show the relation between the two classes of things, the one
abstract and the other concrete, which together are needed to make up
a picture.
The concrete, or material, part of a picture includes all those things
which you can look at or feel on the canvas; and by seeing which you
can also see the abstract qualities, which do not _visibly_ exist
until made visible through the disposition of these tangible things,
on the canvas.
Beyond this is included all the technical qualities of expression;
form, as _drawing_; all representations of objects; the pigment by
means of which color is seen; and all those technical processes which
produce the various kinds of surface in the putting on of paint, and
bring about the different effects of light and shade and color, form
or accent.
In learning to paint, it is with these concrete things that you should
concern yourself mainly. The science of painting consists in the
knowledge of how to be the master of all the practical means of the
craft. For it is with these that you must work, with these you must
express yourself. These are the tools of your trade. They are the
words of your art language--the language itself being the abstract
elements--and the thoughts, the combinations which you may conceive in
your brain by means of these abstract elements.
You must have absolute command of these _materials_ of painting. No
matter how ideal your thought may be, no matter how fine your feeling
for line and color and composition, if you do not know how to handle
the gross material which is the only medium by which this can all be
made visible and recognizable to another person, you will fail of
either expressing yourself, or of representing anything else.
Now you will see what I have been driving at all this time; why I
have been talking in terms which may well be called not practical. I
want to fix your attention on the fact that there are two qualities in
a picture: that one will be always within you, mainly, and will
control the character of your picture, because it will be the
expression of your mental self; and the other the practical part,
which any one may, and all painters must learn, because it is the only
means of getting the first into existence.
The one, the abstract part, no one can tell you how to cultivate nor
how to use. If I tried to do so, it would be my idea and not yours
which would result. I can only tell you that it is the _thought of
art_, and you must think your own thoughts.
But the other, the material, the concrete, the practical, it is the
purpose of this whole book to help you to understand and to acquire
the mastery of, so far as may be done by words.
Teaching by words is difficult, and never completely satisfactory. But
much may be done. If you will use your own brains, so that what does
not seem clear at first may come to have a meaning because of your
thinking about it, we may accomplish a great deal. I cannot make you
paint. I cannot make you understand. I can give you the principles,
but you must apply them and think them out.
Everything I say must be in a measure general; for the needs of every
one are individual, and the requirement of each technical problem is
individual. I must speak for all, and not to any one. Yet I shall
state principles which can always be made to apply to each single
need, and I will try to show how the application may be made.
=Technique.=--The science of painting consists of a variety of
processes by means of which a canvas is covered with pigment, and
various objects are represented thereon. The whole body of method and
means is called technique; the several parts of technique are called
by names of their own. That part which applies to the putting on of
the paint may be generally called _handling_, although the word
_painting_ is sometimes restricted to this sense, and _brush-work_ is
often used for the same thing. The other technical means will be
spoken of in their proper place. Let me say now a few words as to
_handling_ in general.
Where did all this technique come from?
From experiment.
Ever since art began, men have been searching for means of fixing
ideas upon surfaces. But it is only within the last four hundred years
that the processes of oil painting have been in existence--simply
because they are peculiar to the use of pigments ground in oil as a
vehicle, and the oil medium was not invented until the middle of the
fifteenth century.
With the invention of this medium new possibilities came into the
world, and a continual succession of painters have been inventing ways
of putting on paint, the result being the stock of methods and
processes of handling which are the groundwork of the art of painting
to-day.
From time to time there have been groups of artists who have used
common methods, and who have developed expression through those
methods which became characteristic of their epoch; and because the
resulting pictures were of a high degree of perfection, their methods
of handling acquired an authority which had a very determining effect
on different periods of painting.
In this way have come those ideas as to what kind of painting or what
ways of putting paint on canvas should be accepted as "legitimate."
And the methods accepted as legitimate or condemned as illegitimate
have been varied from time to time--those condemned by one period
being advocated by another; and the processes themselves have been
almost as varied as the periods or groups of men using them.
In the long run, methods and processes have received such
authoritative sanction from having been each and all used by undoubted
masters, that they have become the traditional property of all art,
which any one is free to use as he finds need of them. They have
become the stock in trade of the craft.
The artist may use them as he will, provided only he will take the
trouble to understand them. He must understand them, because the
manipulations which make up these different processes accomplish
different effects and different qualities; and as the painter aims at
results, if he does not understand the result of a process when he
uses it, he will get a different one from that which he intended.
The painter should not be hampered by process; he should not be
controlled in the expression of himself by tradition. He should feel
free to use any or all means to bring about the result he aims at, and
he should allow no tradition or point of view to prevent him from
selecting whichever means will most surely or satisfactorily bring
about his true purpose.
Of course there are many ways of using paint which are unsafe. Some
pigments are unsafe to use because they either do not hold their own
color, or tend to destroy the color of others. You should always bear
this in mind; and if you care for the permanence of your work, you
should not use such materials or such processes as work against it.
But beyond this, the whole range of the experience and experiment of
the workers who have gone before you are at your command, to help you
to express yourself most perfectly or completely; to represent
whatever of visible beauty you may conceive or perceive.
And this is the whole aim of the painter; to stand for this is the
whole purpose of the picture.
CHAPTER XII
ORIGINALITY
Originality is not a thing to strive for. If it comes, it is not
through striving. The search for originality seldom results in
anything worth having. It is a quality inherent in the man; and the
best way of being original in your work is to be natural. Perhaps the
most useful advice which you could receive is that you be always
natural. Never be artificial nor insincere; never copy another
person's subject, manner, or method, with the intention of doing as he
does. The most original things are often the most simple, because they
have come naturally from a sincere desire to express what has been
seen or felt, in the most direct way.
If every one were content to be himself, there would be no dearth of
originality. No two people are alike, neither are any two painters
alike; they could not be. They do not look alike, nor see alike, nor
feel alike, nor think alike. How, then, should they paint alike? The
attempt to do a thing because another has made a success of that sort
of thing is the most fruitful source of the commonplace in painting.
Paint that which appeals to you most fully. Don't try to paint what
appeals to some one else. If you like it, then do it; and do it in the
most direct way you can find; only do it so as to fully and completely
convey just what it is that _you_ like, unaffected by anything else.
And because you have seen or felt for yourself in your own way, and
expressed that; and because you are not another, nor like any other
that ever was, what you have done will not be like anything else that
ever was--and that is originality.
But never imitate yourself, either. Be open. Be ready to receive
impressions and emotions. And if you have done one thing well,
accept that in itself as a reason for not doing it again. There
are always plenty of things--ideas, impressions, conceptions,
appreciations--waiting to be painted; and if you try to paint one
twice, you fail once of freshness, and lose a chance of doing a new
thing.
That is what a painter is for, not to cover a canvas with paint, hang
it on a wall, and call it by a name. The painter is the eye of the
people. He sees things which they have no time to look for, or
looking, have not learned to see. The painter serves his purpose best
when he recognizes the beautiful where it was not perceived before,
and so sets it forth that it is recognized to be beautiful through his
having seen it.
There is the difference between the artist and the photograph, which
sees only facts as facts; which while often distorting them does so
mindlessly, and at best, when accurate, gives the bad with the good in
unconscious impartiality. But back of the painter's eye which sees and
distinguishes is the painter's brain which selects and arranges, using
facts as material for the expression of beauties more important than
the facts.
But what is a picture? I have met some strange though positive notions
as to what is and what is not a picture. Some persons think that a
certain (or uncertain) proportion of definite forms and objects are
necessary to make canvas a picture; that it must contain some definite
and tangible facts of the more obvious kind. I remember one man who
asserted that a canvas in an exhibition was not a picture, but only a
sketch, because it had nothing in it but an expanse of sea and sky. To
make a picture of it there was needed at least a moon, and some birds,
or better, a ship and some reflections. All this sort of thing is
idle. A picture is not a picture because it has more of this or less
of that; it is a picture because it is complete in the expression of
the idea which is the cause of its existence. And that idea may be
tangible or not. It may include many details or none. It is an idea
which is best or only expressed by being made visible, and which is
worthy of being expressed because of its beauty; and when that idea
is wholly and fully visible on canvas or other surface, that surface
is a picture. What the contents of a picture shall be is a matter
personal to the painter of it. The manner in which it is conceived and
produced is determined by his temperament and idiosyncrasy.
A picture is a visible idea expressed in terms of color, form, and
line. It is the product of perception plus feeling, plus intent, plus
knowledge, plus temperament, plus pigment. And as all these are
differently proportioned in all persons, it is only a matter of being
natural on the part of the painter that his picture should be
original.
CHAPTER XIII
THE ARTIST AND THE STUDENT
It is a mistake to make pictures too soon. The nearest a student is
likely to get to a picture is a careful study, and he will be as
successful with this, if he makes it for the study of it, as if he
made it for the sake of making a picture--better probably. The making
of a picture for the picture's sake is dangerous to the student. His
is less likely to be sincere. He is apt to "idealize," to make up
something according to some notion of how a picture should be, rather
than from knowledge of how nature is. Real pictures grow from study of
nature.
They are the outcome of maturity, not of the student stage. This
implies something deeper than superficial facts, and a power of
selection,--of choice and of purpose which must rest on a very broad
and deep knowledge. The artist is always a student, of course; but he
is not a student only. He is a student who knows what and why he wants
to study; not one who is in process of finding out these things.
=Aims.=--It should be noted that the aim of the student and the aim
of the artist are essentially different. The student's first aim is to
learn to see and represent nature's facts; to distinguish justly
between relations. It is the training of the eye and the judgment.
Imitation is not the highest art; but the highest art requires the
ability to imitate as a mere power of representation. The mind must
not be hampered in its expression by lack of knowledge and control of
materials, and the painter who is constantly occupied with the
problems he should have worked out in his student days, is just so far
from being a master. He must have all his means perfectly at his
command before he can freely express himself.
The acquirement of this mastery of means is the student's business.
Everything he does which aids him in this makes him so much nearer to
being a painter. But he must remember that he is still a student, and
as he hopes to be a painter, must have patience with himself; must not
hurry himself, must work as a student for the ends of a student.
All the facts of nature art uses. But she uses them as she needs them,
simplifying, emphasizing, suppressing, combining as will best meet the
necessities of the case in hand. All this requires the utmost
knowledge, for it must be done in accordance not only with laws of
art, but with the laws of nature.
There are changes which can be made, and be right--made as nature
might make them. Other changes which would be false to nature's ways,
and so false to art also. For art works through nature always, and in
accordance with her. This is the aim of the painter, to express ideas
through nature, not to express notions about nature.
The facts of nature are the material of art; the words of the language
in which the ideas of art are to be conveyed. But there are truths
more important than these facts. The underlying sentiment of which
they are the external manifestation, and which is the vivifying spirit
of them. This is the true fact of the picture.
It is more important to give the sentiment of the thing than to give
the fact of it; not merely because it is more truly represented so,
but because the beauty is shown in showing the character. For the
character of the fact is the beauty of the fact.
To bring out the beauty which may lie in the fact is the aim of the
artist; to acquire the ability to do this is the aim of the student.
CHAPTER XIV
HOW TO STUDY
There is a right and a wrong way to study, and it all centres around
the fact that what you aim to learn is perception and expression. What
you are to express you do not learn; you grow to that. But you must
learn how to use all possible means; all the facts of visible nature,
and all the characteristics of pigments. All qualities, color and form
and texture, are but the means of your expression, and you must know
how they may be used. Your perception and appreciation must be
trained, and your mind stored with facts and relativities. Then you
are ready to recognize and to convey the true inwardness you find in
conditions commonplace to others.
You are to see where others see not; for it is marvellous how little
the average eye sees of the really interesting things, how little of
the visual facts, and how rarely it sees the picture before it is
painted. All is material to the painter. It is not that "everything
that is, is beautiful," but that everything that is has qualities and
possibilities of beauty; and these, when expressed, make the picture,
in spite of the superficial or obvious ugliness. In one sense nothing
is commonplace, for everything exists visibly by means of light and
color, and light and color are of the fundamental beauties. So arrange
or look upon the commonplace that light and color are the most obvious
qualities, and the commonplace sinks into the background--is lost.
There is nothing like painting to make life fascinating; for there is
nothing which brings so many charming combinations into your
perception, as the habit of looking to find the possibilities of
beauty in everything that comes within your view.
You must form the habit of looking always from the painter's point of
view. The painter deals primarily with pigment, and what can be
represented with pigment; chiefly color and light in the broadest
sense, including form and composition, as things which give bodily
presence and action to the possibilities of pigment. Shade, or shadow,
of course, is an actuality in painting, because it is the foil of
light and color, and furnishes the element of relation.
=Methods.=--Two general methods are at the command of the student from
the first,--to study at once from nature, or to copy. I think I may
safely claim to speak for the great body of teachers who are also
professional artists, in saying that copying is a means of study
rather for the advanced student than for the beginner. You cannot
begin too soon to study nature with your own eyes, and to accumulate
your own facts and observations and deductions. The use of copying is
not to find out how to paint, but to see how many ways there are of
painting. The great end of all study in painting is to train the eyes
to see relations, to see them in nature. It is not to see that there
are relations, but to see where they are; to recognize and to measure
and to judge them. Painting is the art of perception before
everything, and when you copy you only see, accept, what some one else
has already perceived. Copying does not help you to _perceive_, it can
only help to show you how something can be _expressed after_ it has
been perceived, and that is not the vital thing in the study of
painting. Handling, composition, management of color, technique of the
brush generally, may be studied by copying. These only--and for these
things it is useful and wise. But the beginner is not ready for these,
for they are not the alphabet, but the grammar of painting.
=Danger.=--The danger of too early copying is that the student learns
to set too much value on surface qualities rather than those to which
the surface is merely incidental. With this is the danger (a serious
one, and one hard to overcome the results of) that the student becomes
clever as a producer of pictures before he has trained his power to
see. He becomes a student of pictures rather than a student of nature,
and when in doubt will go to art rather than to nature for help and
suggestion. Could anything be more fatal? Consider the things that
student will have to unlearn before he can think a picture in terms of
nature--the only healthy, the only prolific way of thinking. He sees
always through other people's eyes, and thinks with other people's
brains, and feels other people's emotions; that is not creation; that
is the attitude for the spectator, not for the painter.
These things are all useful and good, but not for the beginner. Later,
when you have found out something for yourself, when you have ground
of your own to stand on, then you may not only without danger, but
with benefit, go to the work of other men to see the range of possible
point of view and expression, to see the scope of technical material
and individual adaptation; and so broaden your own mental view and
sympathy, possibly reform or educate your taste, and perhaps get some
hints which will help you in the solving of some future problem.
But rather than the undue sophistication which can result from unwise
copying,--the over-knowledge of process and surface, and
under-knowledge of nature,--is to be preferred a frank crudeness of
work which is the result of an honest going to nature for study. You
should not expect a perfect eye for color and form too soon. Better a
healthily youthful crudity of perception based on nature, and standing
for what you have yourself studied and worked out, which represents
your own attainment, than a greater show of knowledge which is
insincere and superficial because it represents a mere acceptance of
the facts set down by others; and not only that, but even with it an
acceptance also of the actual terms used by those others.
Often copying is the most convenient way in which you can get help.
There is really much to be learned from it, and you can make a picture
serve as a criticism on your own work. Particularly in the matter of
color or tone, as something to recognize the achievement of for its
own sake. If you can recognize good color as such, aside from what it
represents, if you can appreciate tone in a picture which is the work
of some one else, you are so much the more likely to notice the lack
of those qualities in your own work. So, too, there are qualities of
brush-work which are always good, and some which are always bad. You
can study the former positively, and the latter negatively, in
studying and copying other pictures.
I have mentioned the training of your critical judgment as a necessity
in your education. You can do it slowly in learning to paint, but you
can facilitate that training by copying and studying really good
pictures, if you do it in the right way.
=The Right Way.=--So if you do copy, do it in the right way, so as to
get all the real help out of it, and not so as to have to unlearn the
greater part of it. Don't copy "to get a picture." Don't make a copy
which at a distance has a resemblance to the original, but which on a
more careful study shows none of the qualities which make the original
what it is. Not only see to it that the same subtleties of perception
and representation are preserved in your copy, but that they are
attained in the same way. Use the same brush-work or other execution.
Use the same pigments in the same places, with the same vehicles;
study the original with your brain as well as with your eyes and
hands; try to see not only how the painter did a certain thing but
why. So that as you work, you follow him in the working out of his
problem, and make it your problem also. In this way you will get some
real good from his picture, and not a mere canvas which has been of no
use to you, nor can be of any satisfaction to any one else who knows a
good picture (copy or original) when he sees it.
=Why Copy.=--There are only two good reasons for making a copy,--to
study the original as a problem, and to have something to serve as an
example of the master on a work which you like. And in either case
such a sincere manner of copying as I urge is the only possible way to
get what you want. To "get a picture," regardless of whether it really
does justice to the original, is the wrong way, and this leads always
through bad copying to bad painting, and you are fortunate if you
escape an entire perversion of your point of view.
You may be able to make some money now and again by doing this sort of
thing, but you will never learn anything from it. On the contrary, it
is the surest way you could find of closing your eyes to all that is
worth seeing.
=Get to Nature.=--If you would really learn to paint, to see for
yourself, to represent what you see in your own way, you cannot get to
nature too soon. Don't bother about what the thing is, so long as it
is nature herself. By nature I mean anything, absolutely anything
which exists of itself, not painted. Whether it be the living figure,
or a cast, or a bit of landscape, or a room interior--all things which
actually exist must show themselves by the facts of light falling upon
them: the relation of color, and the contrasts of light and dark.
Whatever you see is useful to you in this way, for these bring about
all the qualities and conditions which you most need to study. But
models are not always at command, interiors do not easily stay a long
time at your disposal, and bits of landscape which interest you are
not always easy to get at; for a student is apt to be either far
advanced or unusually ardent who will find interest in the first
combination which falls under his eye. Therefore the most practically
useful material for study, which is always "nature," is what we call
"still life,"--_"morte" nature_, dead nature is the better or more
descriptive name the French give to it. By this is meant any and all
combinations of objects and backgrounds grouped arbitrarily for
representation. Bottles and jugs and fruits, books and bric-a-brac;
all sorts of things lend themselves readily and interestingly to this
use.
The great value of still life for the student lies in the variety of
combinations of color and form, of light and shade and texture, that
he can always command. There is practically no problem possible to
in-the-house light which may not be worked out by means of still life.
The training in perception and representation, in composition and
arrangement, and in technique, which it will give you is invaluable;
and most important of all, while you can always make such arrangements
as will interest you, because you need place only such things or
colors as you like, you are really studying nature herself, you are
looking at the things themselves, and the result you get is the
product of your own eyes and brain. The problem is entirely your own,
both in the stating and the solving, and what you learn is well
learned, and represents a definite progress along the right line.
You have worked for the sake of the working, and there is nothing
which you have got from it that may not be applicable to any future
work you may do, that does not directly lead to the great object you
have in view,--to learn how to paint well.
=Be Sincere.=--But, above all, be sincere with yourself; don't do
anything to be clever, nor because it pleases some one else. Painting
is difficult enough at best. You need all the interest and fascination
that the most charming thing can have for you to help you to do it so
that it is worth the trouble. Don't take away the whole life of it by
insincerity. A very thoughtful painter said to me once that he
believed that all really good pictures could be shown to be good by
the sole criterion of conviction. Can you think of any painting being
good without it? Can you think of any amount of cleverness and ability
making a picture good without that. And it is quite as important in
study as elsewhere. Never do anything except seriously; take yourself
and your work seriously; only by serious work can serious results
come.
=Joy in Your Work.=--Do it because you like to. But like good work and
hate bad work; and, above all, hate half-way work. Understand
yourself: what you want to do and why you want to do it, and then be
honest enough with yourself to work till you have honestly done what
you wanted to do, and as you wanted to do it.
PART III
TECHNICAL PRINCIPLES
CHAPTER XV
TECHNICAL PRELIMINARIES
=Reasons.=--Painting is something more than laying on paint. It implies
a certain amount of knowledge of necessary preliminaries--technical
matters which are not strictly painting, but without which good painting
is impossible.
It is all well enough to put paint on canvas, but there must be a
knowledge on which to base the where and the why of laying it on, as
well as the knowledge of how to lay it on. If anything, the where and
why are more important than the how. There are almost infinite methods
and processes of getting the paint onto the surface. Every painter may
select or invent his own way, and provided it accomplishes the main
purpose--the bringing about of combinations of form, relative color
and pitch, the expression of an idea--it is all right. But there are
laws which govern the positions of the different spots of paint, and
the reasons for placing them in certain relations. These laws are back
of personal idiosyncrasy. They are a part of the laws which control
all material things. The painter may no more go contrary to them in
painting than he may go contrary to physical laws in any of the
practical matters of life. If pigments are not used in accordance with
the laws governing their chemical composition, they will not stand. If
the laws of proportion are not observed in composition, the picture
will not balance. The laws of color harmony are as mathematically
fixed as the law of gravity. So, too, the relations of size, which
give the impression of nearness or distance to objects, rest on the
laws of optics. You have infinite scope for individual expression
inside of those laws, but you cannot go outside of them.
=Scientific Knowledge not Necessary.=--It is not necessary that you
should have any special knowledge of all these laws nor even of the
application of them; but you must recognize their existence, and have
some practical notions about them and their effect on your work.
You can of course carry the study as far as you are interested to go.
The farther the better. The more you study them the more you will find
them interesting, and the easier will it be for you to work freely
within their limitations. But this is not the place for special study.
There are books which treat particularly of these things, and you must
go to them.
But a superficial consideration of these subjects cannot be left out
of any book which would be really helpful to the student of painting.
I can go into the theory of things only so far as to give you that
amount of practical knowledge which is absolutely necessary to you as
a painter. What I shall give is given only because it cannot be wisely
left out, and the form of it as well as the substance and quantity are
determined by the same reason.
As you hope to become a painter, then, do not neglect to study and
think of this part of the book, not merely as a preliminary to the
process of painting, but as containing matter which is continually
essential to it--which is part and parcel of it.
Another reason for the careful reading of these chapters is that any
discussion of the art of painting necessarily demands the use of words
or phrases which must be understood. To speak of technical things
presupposes the use of technical phrases, and without a knowledge of
the words there can be no comprehension of the thought.
CHAPTER XVI
DRAWING
Drawing is basic to painting. Good painting cannot exist without it. I
do not mean that there must be always the outline felt or seen, but
that the understanding of relative position, size, and form must be
felt; and that is drawing. Drawing is not merely form, but implies
these other things, and painting is not legible without them. They go
to the completeness of expression. Movement, and action, as well as
composition and all that it implies or includes, depend upon drawing,
and they are vital to a painting.
=Importance of Drawing.=--Much has been said and written of drawing as
being the most important thing in a picture; so much so, as to excuse
all sorts of shortcomings in other directions. This is a mistake.
Drawing is essential because you cannot lay on color to express
anything without the colors taking shape, and this is drawing. But
still the color itself, and other characteristics which are not
strictly a part of drawing, are quite as important to painting, simply
because the thing without them could not be a painting at all: it
would be a drawing.
All painters fall into two classes,--those who are most sensitive to
the refinements of form, and those most sensitive to refinements of
color and tone. But the great colorists, the painters _par
excellence_, the workers in pigment before everything else, those who
find their sentiment mainly there, these are the men who have made
painting what it is, and who have brought out its possibilities. And
looking at painting from their point of view, drawing cannot be more
important than other qualities.
=Neglect of Drawing.=--Great artists have sometimes not been perfect
draughtsmen. They have been careless of exactness of form. But they
have always been strong in the great essentials of drawing, and they
have made up for such deficiencies as they showed, by their greatness
in other directions. Delacroix, for instance, sometimes let his
temperament run him into carelessness of form in his hurry to express
his temperamental richness of color. These things are superficial to
the greater ends he had in view, but we have to distinctly forgive it
in accepting the picture. And a great colorist may be so forgiven; he
makes up for his fault by other things. But there is no forgiveness
for the student or the painter who is simply a poor draughtsman.
The effect of neglect of drawing is to make a weak picture. A painter,
who was also an exceptionally fine draughtsman, once spoke of work
weak in drawing as resembling "boned turkey." Lack of firmness,
indecision, characterize the painter who cannot draw. Those firm,
simple, but effective touches which are evident somewhere in the work
of all good painters, are impossible without draughtsmanship. They
mean precision. Precision means position. Position means drawing.
=Proportions.=--All good work is from the general to the particular,
from the mass to the detail. Keep that in mind as a fundamental
principle in good work, whatever the kind. You should never place a
detail till you have placed your larger masses. The relative
importance of things depends on the consideration of those most
important first. Let this be your first rule in drawing.
Proportions next. Largest proportions, then exactness of relative
proportions. Study first in masses. See nothing at first but the large
planes. As Hunt said, "Hang the nose on to the head, not the head on
to the nose." In getting proportions of the great masses, let no small
variations of line or form break into your study of the whole.
Therefore, see outlines first in straight lines and angles. If you
cannot see them at first, study to find them; look at the long lines
of movement; mass several curves into one line representing the
general direction of them. Train yourself to look at things in this
way. There is nothing which will not fall into position so. This will
not be easy at first. The training of a quick perception of these
things is a part of your training in drawing--the first essential. It
is not that the straight lines are to be sought for themselves, but
that they simplify the first breaking up of the whole into its parts,
and so makes more easy the study of proportion. The accuracy of the
general masses makes possible a greater accuracy of the lesser
proportions which come within them.
You see form more truly also, when the perception of it is founded on
a mass or a line indicating the larger character of it. It saves time
for you, too. You do not have to rub out so much. The great lines and
planes once established, everything else falls naturally into place.
Spend much time over this part of a drawing. Cut the time you give to
a drawing into parts, and let the part given to the laying in of
larger proportions be from a third to a half of the whole time, and
study and correct these until they are right.
Once these are right a very slight accent tells for twice what it
would otherwise, and so you need much less detail to give the effect.
=Modelling.=--In the same way that you have laid out the proportions
in mass, lay out your proportions of light and shade. Model your
drawing by avoiding the small until the large variations of shade are
in place. Avoid seeing curves in relief as you have avoided curves of
outline. Try to analyze the modelling into flat planes, each one large
enough to give a definite mass of relief. Don't be afraid of an edge
in doing this. Let your flat tone come frankly up to the next tone and
stop. This again is not for any effect in itself, but only for
facility and exactness. Later you can loose it as much as you see fit
in breaking up the drawing into the more delicate planes, and these
again into the most subtle.
Study first the outline and then the planes. Constantly compare them
as to relation; you will find it suggestive. Remember that your aim is
to produce a whole, not a lot of parts, and although a whole includes
the parts, the parts are incidental.
=Measurements.=--You will always have to use measurements for the sake
of accuracy. Probably you will never be able to dispense with them.
The best way would be to take them as a matter of course, and get so
that you make them almost mechanically, without thinking of it. You
will save yourself an immense deal of time and trouble by accepting
this at once; for accuracy is impossible without measurements, and the
habit of accuracy is the greatest time-saver.
Hold your charcoal in your hand freely, so that your thumb can slip
along it and mark off parts of the object when you sight at them
across the coal. Measure horizontal and vertical proportions into
themselves and into each other. Height and breadth are checks to each
other. If the height is a certain proportion of the breadth, then the
smaller proportions of height must have equivalent proportions to each
other _as well as to breadth_. Measure these and you are sure of being
right.
=Steps.=--Divide your drawing into steps or stages of work. You will
find it a helpful thing in studying. You will do it quite naturally
later. Do it deliberately at first, as a matter of training.
_First step._--Measure the extreme height and breadth of the whole
group or object of your drawing, with accuracy, and mark each extreme.
_Second step._--Outline the great mass of it with the simplest lines
possible. Give the general shape of the whole. This blocks it in.
_Third step._--Measure each of the objects in the group, or the parts
most prominent, if it be a single object. Measure its height and
breadth, both in its own proportion and in proportion to the
dimensions of the other parts and of the whole. Enclose it in straight
lines as you did with the whole mass.
_Fourth step._--Find the more important of the lesser proportions in
each object, and block them out also. This should map out your drawing
exactly and with some completeness.
_Fifth step._--Lay in simple flat tones to fill in these outlines,
and keep the relations of light and dark very carefully as you do so.
_Sixth step._--This should leave your paper with a few large masses of
dark and light, which can now be cut into again with the next smaller
masses, giving more refinement to the whole. This also should so break
up the edges as to get rid of any feeling of squareness or edginess.
_Seventh step._--Put in such accents of dark, or take out such of
light, as will give necessary character and force to the drawing.
I do not say that this method produces the most finished drawing; but
it is a most excellent way to study drawing, and, more or less
modified, is practically the basis of all methods. In practised hands
it allows of any amount of exactness or freedom of execution. I have
seen most beautiful work done in this way.
=Home Study.=--It is not necessary to have a teacher in order to draw
well; but it is necessary to find out what are the essentials of good
drawing, and to work definitely and acquire them.
Good drawing is a combination of exactness and freedom; and the
exactness must come first. The structure of the thing must be shown
without unnecessary detail. You should always look at any really good
drawing you can come at, and try to see what there may be in it of
helpful suggestion to you.
[Illustration: =Drawing of Hands.= _Duerer._]
=Study the Masters.=--Get photographs of drawings by the masters of
drawing, and study them. See how they searched their model for form
and character. Do not make so much of the actual stroke as the manner
in which it is made to express and lend itself to the meaning.
In this drawing by Albrecht Duerer you have a splendid example of
exactness and feeling for character. You could have no better type of
what to look for and how to express it. Although it is not important
that you should lay on the lines of shading just as this is done, it
is important to notice how naturally they follow, and conform to, the
character of the surface--which is one of the ways in which the point
helps to search out the modelling.
This drawing is made with a black and a white chalk on a gray ground;
a very good way to study.
A good hint is also offered in this drawing, of the modesty of the old
masters, in subject. A hand or part of any object is enough to study
from. There is no need to always demand a picture in everything you
do.
=Materials.=--For all purposes which come in the range of the painter
you should use charcoal. For purposes of study it is the most
satisfactory of materials; it is sensitive, easily controlled, and
easily corrected. For sketching or preliminary drawing on the canvas
it is equally good.
You should have also a plumb-line with which to test vertical
positions of parts in relation to each other, and this, with the
pencil held horizontally for other relative positions, gives you all
you need in that direction.
In drawing on the canvas it is not often necessary to do more than
place the various objects and draw their outlines carefully and
accurately. Sometimes, however, as in faces, or in pictures which
include important figures, you will need a shaded drawing, and this
can be done perfectly with charcoal, and fixed with fixative
afterwards.
=Imitation.=--Perfect drawing, in the sense of exact drawing, is not
the most important thing. A drawing may be exact, and yet not be the
truer for it. It may be inexact, and yet be true to the greater
character. So, too, the drawing may have to change an accidental fact
which is not worth the trouble of expression or which will injure the
whole. There is something more important than detail, and the
essential characteristics can be expressed sometimes only by a drawing
which is deliberately false in certain things in order to be the more
true to the larger fact.
Then, too, there is an individuality which the artist has to express
through his representation of the external; and he is justified in
altering or slighting facts in order to bring about that more
important self-expression. Of course the self must be worth
expressing. There is no excuse for mere falsification nor for mere
inability. But a good workman will not be guilty of that, and the
complete picture in its unity will be his justification for whatever
means he has taken.
=Feeling.=--Drawing must be a matter of feeling. A perception of
essential truth of a thing, as much as of trained observation of the
facts. The good draughtsman becomes so by training his observation of
facts first, always searching for those most important, and
emphasizing those; and with the power which will come in time to his
eye and hand easily and quickly to grasp and express facts, will come
also the power of mind to grasp the essential characteristics. And the
trained hand and eye will permit the most perfect freedom of
expression. This is the desideratum of the student; this is the end to
be aimed at,--the perfect union of the trained eye and hand to see and
do, and the trained mind to feel and select, and the freedom of
expression which comes of that perfect union.
CHAPTER XVII
VALUES
=The Term.=--The word "values" is seldom understood by the average
individual, yet it should not be difficult to take in. It means simply
the relation between degrees of strength of light and dark, and of
color considered as light and dark. Translate the word into
"importance," and think what it means. The relative importance,
strength, force, power, value, of a touch of color to make itself felt
in the whole--that is its value. A weak value is a note which does not
make itself felt; a strong value is one which does. A false value is a
touch of color which has not its proper relation to the other spots or
masses of color in the picture, _considered_ as _light and dark_--_not
as color per se_.
=Importance.=--As soon as you grasp this idea you see at once how
important values must be to the whole picture. It is not possible to
do any good work, either in black and white or color, without it. In
one sense it is incidental to drawing. When you consider drawing as
the expression of modelling, the relative roundness of parts, and of
relief, as well as outline, values come into play to give the
relations of planes of light and dark in black and white. In this it
becomes part of drawing.
=Values and Color.=--As soon, however, as color becomes a part of the
picture, values become the basis of modern painting as distinguished
from the painting of previous centuries. Values, of course, always
existed wherever good painting existed, because you cannot paint
without recognizing the relations, the relative pitch and relative
strength of tones. But the word is never heard in relation to old
masters. It is apparently of quite modern coinage and use, and it
probably was coined because of a new and greater importance of the
fact which it represents.
The older painters in painting a picture kept parts of a whole
object--a head or a figure, say--in relation to itself; and that was
values--but restricted values. The whole picture was arranged on the
basis of arbitrary lighting, which entered into the scheme of
composition of that picture. This is not values, but what is generally
understood by the older writers when they speak of "chiaroscuro." The
modern painter deals little with chiaroscuro. It is almost obsolete as
a technical word. Arbitrary arrangement of light and shade in a
picture is not usual nowadays, and consequently the word which
expressed it has dropped somewhat into disuse.
=Basis of Modern Painting.=--Instead of the old composition in
arbitrary light and shade, the modern painter accepts the actual
arrangement of light as the basis of his picture, and spreads the
values over the whole canvas. In this way the quality of "value"
becomes the very foundation of the modern picture. For you cannot
accept the ordinary or actual condition of light, as governing the
light and shade of your picture, without extending the same scheme of
relations over the whole canvas. Every most insignificant spot of
light and shade and color, as well as the most significant, must keep
its place, must hold its true relation to every other spot and to all
the rest. Each value must keep its place according to the laws of
fact, or it is out of touch with the whole. The whole picture must be
either on a scheme of general fact, or a scheme of general arbitrary
arrangement. Any one piece of arbitrary arrangement in this connection
must be backed up by other pieces of arbitrary arrangement, or else
there must be no arbitrary arrangement at all. The modern painter
accepts the former; and the importance of "values" is the result.
=Absolute and Relative Values.=--We may speak of values as absolute or
relative. This relates to the key or pitch of a painting. It is the
contribution to the art of painting which was made by the French
painter, Manet. You may paint a picture in the same pitch as nature,
or you may transpose it to a higher or a lower pitch.
The relations of the different values of the picture will hold the
same relation to each other as the values of nature do to each other.
But the actual pitch of each, the relation of each to an absolute
light or an absolute dark, will be higher or lower than in nature.
This would be relative values.
Or the pitch, relation to absolute light and dark, of each value may
be the same, value for value, as in nature. This would be absolute
values.
The attempt at absolute values was not made at all before Manet's
time. A landscape was frankly painted down, or darker, from the pitch
of nature, and an interior as frankly painted up, or lighter. In both
cases the values had to be condensed,--telescoped, so to
speak,--because pigment would not express the highest light nor the
lowest dark in nature; and to have the same number of gradations
between the highest and lowest notes in the picture, the amount of
difference between each value had to be diminished--but _relatively_
they were the same. The degree of variation from the actual was the
same all through.
With absolute values the painter aims at giving the _just note_,--the
exact equivalent in value that he finds in nature. He tries to paint
up to out-door light or paint down to in-door light.
=Close Values.=--This naturally calls for a fine distinction of
tones--the utmost subtlety of perception of values. To paint a picture
in which the highest light may not be white nor the lowest dark black,
and yet give a great range and variety to the values all through the
picture, the values must be _close_; must be studied so closely as to
take cognizance of the slightest possible distinction, and to justly
express it. This sort of thing was not thought of by the older
painters. It is the distinguishing characteristic of modern painting.
It is a substitution of the study of _relation_ for the study of
_contrast_.
=Study of Values.=--You see at once how important, how vital, the
study of values is to painting. Even if you paint with arbitrary
lighting, as is still done by many painters, especially in portraits,
you have to consider and study them as they apply to _parts_ of your
picture. You will find no good painter of old time who did not study
relations. If you look at a Velasquez, you will find that he knew
values, even though he did not use the word.
But if you are in touch with your century, if you would paint to
express the suggestion you receive from the nature you study, or if
you would convey the idea of truth to the world around you, as that
world exists, frankly accepting the conditions of it, you will have to
make the study of values fundamental to your work.
="The Fourth Dimension."=--You study values with your eyes only, but
you cannot _measure_ values. Length, breadth, and thickness you can
measure; but values constitute what might be called a "_Fourth
Dimension_," and you must measure it by your eye, and without any
mechanical aid. Your eye must be trained to distinguish and judge
differences of value.
=Helps.=--There are, however, several things which you can use to help
you in training your eye to distinguish values. When you look for
values you do not wish to see details nor things, you wish to see only
masses and relations. You must _unfocus_ your eye. The focussed eye
sees the fact, and not the relation. Anything which will help you to
see outlines and details less distinctly will help you to see the
values more distinctly.
=Half-closed Eyes.=--The most common way is to half close the eyes,
which shuts out details, but permits you to see the values. Some
painters think this falsifies pitch, and prefer to keep the eyes wide
open, but to focus them on some point _beyond_ the values they are
studying. This is not so easy to do as to half close the eyes, but
becomes less difficult with practice.
=The Blur Glass.=--An ordinary magnifying-glass of about 15-inch
focus, which you can get at an optician's for fifteen or twenty cents,
will blur the details, and help you to see the values, because it
makes everything vague except the masses. You can frame it for use by
putting it between two pieces of cardboard with a hole in them, or you
can do the same with two pieces of leather sewed around the edge. Of
course the glass itself is all you need, but it will be easily broken
if unprotected.
Do not try to look _through_ the glass at your subject, but _at_ the
glass and the image on it.
=The Claude Loraine Mirror.=--This is a curved mirror with a black
reflecting surface. The object is reflected on it, _reduced_ both in
size and pitch. It concentrates the masses and the color, and so helps
to distinguish the relative values.
You can make a mirror of this sort for yourself by painting the back
of a piece of plate glass black. The real Claude Loraine mirror is
expensive.
=The Common Mirror= is also very helpful in distinguishing values. It
reduces the size of things, and reverses the drawing so that you see
your subject under different conditions, and a fresh eye is the
result. Place the group and your painting side by side, if you are
painting still life, and look at both at the same time in the mirror.
Do the same with a portrait and the sitter.
=Diminishing Glass.=--Much the same effect can be had by using a
double concave lens. The picture is not reversed, but it is reduced,
and the details eliminated.
In using any of these means you must remember that it is always the
relations and not the things you are studying; and the most useful of
these aids is the blur glass, because you cannot possibly see anything
in it but the values and color masses, everything else being blurred.
CHAPTER XVIII
PERSPECTIVE
There are two kinds of perspective, linear and aerial. The former has
to do with the manner in which horizontal lines appear to converge as
they recede from the foreground, and so produce the effect of
distance. The latter has to do with the effect of distance, which is
due to the successive gradations of gray in color noticeable in
objects farther and farther away from the observer.
=Aerial Perspective.=--To the student, aerial is _color_ perspective,
because of the modifications which colors undergo when removed to a
distance. Modifications of tone are largely due to varying distance,
and so aerial perspective is largely a matter of _values_. That they
are due to the greater or less thickness of the atmosphere is only a
matter of interest, not of importance, to the artist; the important
thing to him is that the careful study of values is necessary to
relief, perspective, and particularly, atmosphere and envelopment in a
picture.
To the student, aerial perspective should be only a matter of
observation and of the study of relations of color and value. There
are no rules. The effect depends on greater or less density of
atmosphere. Near objects are seen through a thin stratum of air, and
farther objects through a thicker one. All you have to do to express
it is to recognize the relative tones of color. Paint the colors as
they are, as you see them in nature, and you need have no trouble with
aerial perspective.
But though I say "this is all you have to do," don't imagine that I
mean that it is always easy, or that it can be done without thought
and study. You will have to use all your powers of perception if you
wish to do good work in this direction. Especially on clear days, or
in those climates where the air is so rare that objects at great
distances seem near, you will find that atmospheric perspective is
simply another name for close values. And close values, you remember,
are the most subtle of relations of light and shade and color.
The only rule for aerial perspective is to use your eyes, and do
nothing without a previous careful study of nature.
=Linear Perspective.=--For most kinds of painting, a technical
knowledge of linear perspective is not necessary, although every
painter should understand the general principles of it. In most cases
all the exactness needed can be obtained by comparing all lines
carefully with the pencil or brush handle held horizontally or
vertically, and studying the angle any line makes with it. Apply to
all objects in perspective the same observation that you do in any
other kind of drawing, and you will have little trouble, as long as
you are drawing from an object before you. But if you go into
perspective at all, go into it thoroughly. A little perspective is a
dangerous thing, and more likely to mix you up by suggesting all sorts
of half-understood things than to be of any real help.
There are some kinds of subjects, however, which require a complete
knowledge of all the rules and processes of perspective. Whenever you
have to construct a picture from details stated but not seen; when you
have a complicated architectural interior or exterior; when figures
are to be placed at certain distances or in definite positions, and
they are too numerous or the conditions are otherwise such that you
cannot pose your models for this purpose; then you may have to make
most elaborate perspective plans, and lay out your picture with great
exactness, or the drawing which is fundamental to such a picture will
not be true.
Such men as Gerome and Alma-Tadema plan their pictures most carefully,
and so did Paul Veronese, and it requires a thorough and practical
knowledge of perspective.
But this is not the place to teach you perspective. It is a subject
which requires special study, and whole volumes are given to the
elucidation of it. In a work of this kind anything more than a mention
of the bearings of perspective on painting would be out of place. If
you do not care to take up seriously the study of perspective, avoid
attempting to paint any subjects which call for it; or, if you do care
to study it, get a special work on that subject, give plenty of time
to it, and study it thoroughly.
=Foreshortening.=--In this connection I may speak of something which
is akin to perspective, yet the very reverse of it. As its name
implies, foreshortening means the way in which anything seems
shortened or in modified drawing as it projects towards you; while
perspective is the manner in which lines appear as they recede from
you. Like aerial perspective, the best way to study foreshortening is
to study nature, not rules.
Perspective can be worked out by rule, foreshortening cannot. Pose
your model, or if it be a branch of a tree, or anything of that sort,
place yourself in the proper position with reference to it, and then
study the drawing _as it appears_, thinking nothing of _how it is_;
make your measurements, and place your lines as if there were no
problem of foreshortening at all, but study the relations of lines,
of size, and of values, and the foreshortening will take care of
itself.
After all, foreshortening is only good drawing, and a good draughtsman
will foreshorten well, while a bad draughtsman will not. Therefore,
learn to draw, and don't worry about the foreshortening.
CHAPTER XIX
LIGHT AND SHADE
=Chiaroscuro.=--A few words about chiaroscuro will be useful. This is
a term of great importance and frequent use with artists and writers
up to within the last thirty or forty years. It has of late become
almost unused. The reason for this was explained in the chapter on
"Values." Nevertheless, it is well that the student should know what
the word meant, and still means. Although he may hear and use it less
frequently than if he had lived earlier in the century, the pictures,
certain qualities of which no other word expresses, still exist, and
are probably as immortal as anything in this world can be. He should
know what those qualities are, and he should understand their relation
to the work of to-day.
Chiaroscuro is described by an old writer as suggesting "a theme which
is the most interesting, perhaps, in the whole range of the art of
painting. Of vast importance, great extent, and extreme intricacy.
Chiaroscuro is an Italian compound word whose two parts, _chiar_ and
_oscuro_, signify simply _bright_ and _obscure_, or _light_ and
_dark_. Hence the art or branch of art that bears the name regards
all the relations of light and shade, and this independently of
coloring, notwithstanding that in painting, coloring and the
clair-obscure are of their very nature inseparable. The art of
clair-obscure, therefore, teaches the painter the disposition and
arrangement in general of his lights and darks, with all their
degrees, extreme and intermediate, of tint and shade, both in single
objects, as the parts of a picture, and in combination as one whole,
so as to produce the best representation possible in the best manner
possible; that is, _so as to produce the most desirable effect upon
the senses and spirit of the observers_. In a word, its end and aim
are fidelity and beauty of imitation; its means, every effect of
light; chromatic harmonies and contrasts; chromatic values,
reflections; the degradations of atmospheric perspective, etc." The
italics are mine.
You see at once that this covers a pretty wide field. But it is to be
again noted that the use of chiaroscuro by the old painters meant not
only the expression of the light and shade of nature, but the so
arranging of the objects and the way that the light was permitted to
fall on them, that certain parts of the picture became shadow, while
the light was concentrated in some other part or parts. In this way
the arrangement of the light and shade of a picture became a distinct
element of composition, and a very important one. The _quality_ of
"light" was something to be emphasized by contrast. It is stated
(whether truly or not) that the proportion of light to dark was
according to a definite rule or principle with certain painters, some
permitting more, and some less, space of canvas to be proportioned to
light and to dark. The gradations of light and dark were studied of
course; but the quantity of light spread over the canvas was
calculated upon, so that the less space of light and the greater the
space of dark, the more brilliant would be the main spot of light in
the picture. They wrought with the _quality of light and shade_ as an
_element_, just as they would with the quality of line or of color,
considered apart from objects or facts they might represent.
=Arbitrary Lighting.=--This is the arbitrary light and shade spoken of
in the chapter on "Values"; and although the older painters included
what we now call values in their word chiaroscuro, it is this fact of
arbitrary lighting as opposed to accepting the light as it does fall,
or selecting those places or times where it does naturally fall as we
would like it to, that makes the difference between modern painting
generally and the older method, and has made chiaroscuro as a word and
as a quality of painting so much a thing of the past.
=Light and Shade.=--But we may use the old word with a more
restricted meaning. If we use it to mean literally light and shade,
the way light falls on objects and the relief due to the light side
and the shadow side of them, we get a use which implies a very
important and practical matter for present study.
[Illustration: =Eggs. White against White.=]
=Objects Visible by Light and Shadow.=--If you will put a white egg on
a piece of white paper, with another white paper back of it, you will
see that it is only because the egg obstructs the light, the side of
it towards the light preventing the light rays from touching the other
side, and so casting a shadow on itself and on the paper, that the egg
is visible. You will also see, if you manipulate the egg, that
according as the light is concentrated or diffused, or according to
the sharpness of the shadow and light, is the egg more or less
distinct.
=Contrast.=--Apply these facts to other objects, and you will see how
important the principle of contrast is to the representation of
nature. Not only contrast of light and shade, but contrast of color.
And you should make a study, both by setting up groups of objects in
different lights, and by studying effects of lights wherever you are,
of the possibilities and combinations of light and shadow.
=Constant Observation.=--The painter is constantly studying with his
eyes. It is not necessary always to have the brush in your hand in
order to be always studying. Keep your brain active in making
observations and considering the relations in nature around you. The
amount of material you can store up in this way is immense, to say
nothing of the training it gives you in the use of your eyes, and in
the practice of selection of motives for work. Schemes of color or
composition are not usually deliberately invented within the painter's
brain. They are in most cases the result of some suggestion from a
chance effect noticed and remembered or jotted down, and afterwards
worked out. Nature is the great suggester. It is the artist's business
to catch the suggestion and make it his own. For nature seldom works
out her own suggestions. The effect as nature gives it is either not
complete, or is so evanescent as to be uncopyable. But the habit of
constant receptivity on the part of the artist makes nature an
infinite mine of possibilities to him.
[Illustration: =The Canal.= _Burleigh Parkhurst._
Effect of diffused out-door light to be compared with effect of studio
light in "Bohemian Woman," and artificial light in "Woman Sewing by
Lamplight."]
=Perception.=--Only by continually observing and judging of contrasts
and relations can the eye be trained to perceive subtle distinctions;
yet it must be so trained, for all good work is dependent on these
distinctions.
=Effects of Light.=--It is important to study the different qualities
of light. Take, for instance, the difference of character on a sunny
day and on a gray day. On the former, fine distinctions of color are
less pronounced; they are lost in the contrasts of sunlight and
shadow. On a gray day the light is diffused; contrast is less, but the
finer distinctions are more marked. For the study of the subtleties of
color choose a gray day.
So, too, is the difference marked between the general light of
out-doors and the more concentrated light of the house. The pitch is
different. Outside, even in a dark day, the general character of light
is clearer, more full, than in-doors.
There is nothing possible under the open sky like the strong contrasts
you get from a single window in an otherwise unlighted room.
Compare, for instance, the character of the light and shade as shown
in the illustrations on pages 156 and 159. The one is the diffused,
out-of-door light, the other that from a studio window. The character
of the subject has nothing to do with this quality. The head would
have less of sharpness and contrast in the open air, and more
reflected light.
Other differences to be studied as to quality of the light in the
manner of its contrast, and also for its color quality, are to be seen
in moonlight or nightlight as compared with daylight. Artificial
light, such as lamp- and candle-light, gives marked effects also,
which may be compared with daylight both as it is out-of-doors and in
its more concentrated effects in the studio. Compare the picture of
the "Woman Sewing by Lamplight," by Millet, with the "Canal" and the
"Bohemian Woman" given above. The effects of gas and electric light
also should be studied. Their characteristics both of contrast and,
particularly, of color are worth your attention as a student, inasmuch
as the essence of some pictures lies in these qualities.
Another matter of great importance to the student, and one which the
same three illustrations just referred to may serve to show, is the
effect on objects of the position of the point of entrance of the
light with reference to them and to the observer. The simplest light
is the side-light from a single window. This gives broad, sharp masses
of light and shade, and makes the study of drawing and painting more
simple. With the observer in the same relative position to the
subject, as the light swings round towards a point back of him the
contrasts become less, the relations more subtle and difficult of
recognition, and naturally the study of them more difficult. In this
position of light the values become "close." To make the object seen
at all, it is necessary that the finest distinctions shall be
observed.
[Illustration: =Bohemian Woman.= _Frans Hals._
Effect of contrast of light and shade in studio to be compared with
diffused light of open air in the "Canal," and artificial light in
"Woman Sewing by Lamplight."]
[Illustration: =Sewing by Lamplight.= _Millet._
Effect of artificial light contrast to be compared with natural light
in illustrations of "Canal" and "Bohemian Woman."]
[Illustration: =Descent from the Cross.=]
Portrait painters have always been fond of a top light, which gives a
direct concentrated light descending on the sitter, very similar in
character to the side-light, but more favorable to the expression and
drawing of the face.
=Cross Lights.=--The most confusing and difficult of study and
representation are the "_cross lights_." If there are several windows
or other points for the admission of light, and the sitter or object
painted is between them, the light comes from all sides, so that the
rays cross each other and there is no single scheme of light and
shade. The rays from one side modify the shadows cast from the other
side, and a perplexing and involved arrangement of values is the
result. This is a favorite technical problem with painters, and its
solution is splendid training; but the student who can successfully
solve it is not far from the end of his "student days."
CHAPTER XX
COMPOSITION
=Importance.=--Composition is of the utmost importance. It is
impossible that a picture should be good without it. You may define it
as that study by means of which the balance of the picture comes
about. But you must understand the word balance in its broadest sense.
There is nothing in the planning of the picture which has not to be
considered in making the picture balance.
The arrangement of the lines, of the forms, of the masses, and of the
colors must all be right if the composition be right. Composition is
the planning of the picture; and it is more or less complicated, more
or less to be carefully studied beforehand in exact accordance with
the simplicity or complication of the scheme of the picture. You may
not need more than the consideration of a few main facts. It may
almost be done by a few moments' deliberation in some simple studies
or even pictures. But even then there is possible the most subtle
discrimination of selection, and a perfect gem of composition may be
found in the arrangement of a picture having the simplest and fewest
elements. The more complicated the materials which are to be worked
into a picture, the more careful must be the previous planning; but,
for all that, the genius will find scope for his utmost powers in a
simple figure, just because the fewer the means, the more each single
thing can interfere with the balance of the whole, and the more a fine
choice will tell.
=The AEsthetic.=--I have already mentioned briefly the aesthetic
elements of a picture. I have called to your attention that back of
the obvious facts of a subject and the objects in the picture, and the
theme which the painter makes his picture represent; back of the
technical processes and management of concrete material which make
painting possible, is the aesthetic purpose of the work of art; without
this it could not be a work of art at all: it would be merely a more
or less exact representation of something, a mere prosaic description,
the interest in which would lie wholly in the _fact_, and would perish
whenever interest in the fact should cease. It is not the _fact_, nor
even the able expression of the fact, which makes a work of art a
thing of interest and delight centuries after the bearing of the fact
has been forgotten. The perennial interest of a work of art lies in
the way in which the artist has used his ostensible theme, and all the
facts and objects appertaining to it, as a part of the material with
which he expresses those ideas which are purely aesthetic; which do not
rest on material things. These have to do with material things only by
rendering them beautiful, giving to them an interest which they
themselves could not otherwise have.
=Theory.=--Does this sound unpractical? Well, it is unpractical. Does
it seem mere theory? It is theory. I want to impress it on you that it
is theory. For it is the theory which underlies art, and if you do not
understand it, you only understand art from the outside. Consciously
or unconsciously every artist works to express these purely aesthetic
qualities, and to a greater or less extent he expresses himself
through them.
=Art for Art's Sake.=--This is the real meaning of the much-debated
phrase, "Art for art's sake." The mistake which leads to the
misconception and most of the discussion about it, is in confounding
"art for art's sake" with "technique for technique's sake," which is a
very different thing. Certainly every painter will work to attain the
most perfect technique he is capable of. But not for the sake of the
technique, but for what it will do. The better the technique the
better the control of all the means to expression. If you take
technique to mean only the understanding and knowledge of all the
manipulations of art, technique is only a means, and it is so that I
mean it to be understood here. If you broaden its meaning to include
all the _mental_ conceptions and means, that is another thing, and one
likely to lead to confusion of idea. So I use the word technique in
its strictest sense.
=The AEsthetic Elements.=--What, then, are these aesthetic qualities I
have spoken of? Will you consider the quality of "line"? Not _a_ line,
but line as an element, excluding all the possible things which may be
done with lines in different relations to themselves and to other
elements. Now will you consider also the other elements, "mass" and
"color"? Do you see that here are three terms which suggest
possibilities of combination of infinite scope? and they are purely
intellectual. What may be done with them may be done, primarily,
without taking into consideration the representation of any material
fact whatsoever. Take as the type, conventional ornament. You can make
the most exquisite combinations, in which the only interest and charm
lies in the fact of those combinations in line and mass and color.
Take architecture. Quite aside from the use of the building is the
aesthetic resultant from combinations of line and mass and color.
And so in the picture the question of _art_, the question of aesthetic
entity, lies in the intellectual qualities of combinations of line and
mass and color which permeate through and through the technical and
material structure that you call the picture, and give it whatever
universal and permanent value it has, and which make it immortal, if
immortal it ever can be.
=Composition.=--The bearing of all this on composition should be
obvious, for composition is the technique of combination. In the
composition of a picture all the elements come into play. It is in
composition that the management of the abstract results in the
concrete.
Let us look at it from a more practical side. Frankly, there are
qualities, which you always look for in a picture,--good drawing, of
course, and good color. But there are such things as these: Harmony,
Balance, Rhythm, Grace, Impressiveness, Force, Dignity. Where do they
come from? Must not every good picture have them, or some of them, to
some extent? How are you going to get them? If you have fifteen or
twenty square feet or square yards of surface, you will not get them
onto it by unaided inspiration. Inspiration is, like any other
intellectual quality, quite logical, only it acts more quickly and
takes longer steps between conclusions perhaps. You will get these
qualities onto your canvas only by so arranging all the objects which
make up the body of your picture that these qualities shall be the
result. It is arrangement then.
=Arrangement.=--But arrangement of what? how? The objects. But on some
principle back of them. Consider another set of qualities: proportion,
i.e., relative size; arrangement, relative position; contrast;
accent,--these are what you manipulate your objects with, and your
objects themselves are only line and mass and color in the concrete.
Objects, figures, bric-a-brac, draperies, houses and trees, skies and
mountains, and every and any other natural fact, you may consider as
so many bits of form and color with which you may work out a scheme on
canvas; and how you do it is to consider them as pawns in your game of
aesthetics.
With these as materials, what you really do is to combine mass and
line and color by means of proportion, arrangement, contrast, and
accent, that a beautiful entity of harmony, balance, rhythm, grace,
dignity, and force may result. And this is composition.
=No Rules.=--Naturally in dealing with a thing like this, which is the
very essence of art, rules are of very little use. Ability in
composition may be acquired when it is not natural, but it calls for a
continuous training of the sense of proportion and arrangement, just
as the development of any other ability calls for training.
The best thing that you can do is to study good examples and try to
appreciate, not only their beauty, but how and why they are beautiful.
Cultivate your taste in that direction; and with the taste to like
good and dislike bad composition will come the feeling which tells you
when it is good and when it is bad, and this feeling you can apply to
your own work, and by experiment you will gain knowledge and skill.
Rules are not possible simply because they are limitations, and the
true composer will always overstep a limitation of that kind, and with
a successful result.
Principles of composition, too, must be variously adapted, according
to the kind of picture you have in hand. The principles are the same,
of course; but as the materials differ in a figure painting and a
landscape, for instance, you must apply them to meet that difference.
=Suggestions.=--The first suggestion that might be made as a help to
the study of composition is to consider your picture as a whole
always. No matter how many figures, no matter how many groups, they
must all be considered as parts of a _whole_, which must have no
effect of being too much broken up.
If the figures are scattered, they must be scattered in such a way
that they suggest a logical connection between them as individuals in
each group, and groups in a whole. There should usually be a main
mass, and the others subsidiary masses. There should be a centre of
interest of some sort, whether it be a color, a mass, or a thing; and
this centre should be the point to which all the other parts balance.
=Simplicity= is a good word to have in mind. However complicated the
composition may seem superficially, you may treat it simply. You will
control it by not considering any part as of any importance in itself,
but only as it helps the whole; and you may strengthen or weaken that
part as you need to. Don't cut the thing up too much. Let a half a
dozen objects count as one in the whole. Mass things, simplify the
masses, and make the elements of the masses hold as only parts of
those masses.
=Study placing= of things in different sizes relative to the size of
the canvas. Make sketches which take no note of anything but the
largest masses or the most important lines, and change them about till
they seem right; then break them up in the same way into their
details. Apply the _steps_ suggested for drawing to the study of
composition, searching for balance chiefly, or for some other quality
which is proper to composition.
=Line.=--Each of the main elements of composition can be used as a
problem of arrangement. You can study _composition_ in line, in mass,
or in color.
"The Golden Stairs," by Burne-Jones, is almost purely an arrangement
in _line_, and beautifully illustrates the use of this element as the
main aesthetic motive in a picture.
[Illustration]
Compare this composition in line with the "Descent from the Cross," in
which the _line_ is equally marked, but more complicated, and used in
connection with _mass_ to a much greater extent, and involved with
interrelations of chiaroscuro and color. Consider the effect which
each picture derives as a whole from this management of these
elements. The one emphasizing that of line, with the resultant of
rhythm and grace; the other balancing the elements, and so gaining
power and impressiveness.
[Illustration: =The Sower.= _Millet._
To show arrangement in mass and line, in which the mass gives weight
and dignity without weakening the emphasis of rhythm in the line.]
Often the whole composition should be a balancing of the elements, as
in this case. But the emphasizing of one element will always emphasize
the characteristics to which those elements tend as the main
characteristic of the picture.
Grace, rhythm, movement, come most naturally from arrangement chiefly
in _line_. If _mass_ comes into the picture, the masses may be
arranged to help the _line_, or to modify it. In "The Sower" the
management of mass is such as to give great dignity, and almost
solemnity, to the picture, yet not to take away from the rhythmic
swing and action of the figure which comes from line, but even to
emphasize it. Compare this in these respects with the lighter grace of
"The Golden Stairs" and the less unified movement, but greater
activity, of the "Descent from the Cross."
Of course masses will come into the picture; but either the masses
themselves can be arranged into line, or there can be emphasis given
to lines which break up or modify the masses, so that the character of
the picture is governed by them.
=Mass.=--In the arrangement of mass, light and shade and color are
effective. Smaller groups may be made into a larger one, and
individual objects also brought together, by grouping them in light or
in shade, or by giving them a common color.
[Illustration: =Return to the Farm.= _Millet._
To show the effect of mass in giving qualities of "scale" and "the
statuesque."]
Weight, dignity, the statuesque, scale, are characteristics of _mass_.
Line in this connection only takes from the brusqueness that mass
alone would have, or helps to break up any tendency to monotony. The
"Return to the Farm," by Millet, shows this combination, the reverse
of "The Sower." In this, the _line_ is used to enrich the repose and
weight, the statuesque of the _mass_. In the other, the _mass_ gives
dignity and impressiveness to the grace and rhythm of the _line_.
The color scheme of course will have an equal effect in the
emphasizing or modifying of the motive of line or mass. Color will not
only have an effect on it, but must be in sympathy with it, or the
balance will be lost.
=Color.=--This is mainly where composition in color will come in.
Light and shade or chiaroscuro, as I explained in the last chapter,
are necessarily intimately connected with composition here. And you
never work in color or mass without working in light and shade also.
Of color itself I shall speak in the next chapter. It is only
necessary to point out the fact of connection here. Of course in
painting, all the elements are most closely related. Although it is
necessary to speak of them separately in the actual working out, you
keep them all in mind together, and so make them continually help and
modify each other.
=A Principle.=--There is a well-established principle in architecture,
that you must never try to emphasize two proportions in one structure.
A hall may be long and narrow, but not both long and wide; in which
case the proportions would neutralize each other--you would have a
simple square, characterless. You may emphasize height or
breadth--not both, or you get the same negative character.
So you may apply this principle more or less exactly to the
composition of a picture. Don't try to express too many things in one
picture, or if you do, let some one be the main thing, and all the
rest be subordinate to it. There is perhaps no law more rigid than the
one which denies success to any attempt to scatter force, effect, and
purpose. One main idea in each picture, and everything subordinated to
lend itself to the strengthening of that.
To a certain extent this will apply to line and mass, though not
absolutely. As a rule, line or mass, one or the other, must be the
main element.
=Leverage.=--I have often thought that much insight into the
principles of balance of masses, and of mass and line, could be gained
by thinking of it analogously to equilibrium in leverage. A small
mass, or a simple line or accent, may be made to balance a very much
greater mass. The greater part of a canvas may be one mass, and be
balanced by quite a small spot. But leverage must come in to help.
Somewhere in the picture will be the point of support, the fulcrum.
And the large mass and the small one will have an obvious relation
with reference to that point. Or the element of apparent density will
come in. The large mass will be the least dense, the small one the
most dense, and the equilibrium is established. For composition is but
the equilibrium of the picture, and equilibrium the picture must have.
There are many rules as to placing of mass and arrangement of line,
but they are all more or less arbitrary and limiting in influence.
Individuality must and will ignore such rules, just because
composition deals chiefly with the abstract qualities rules will not
help. A fine feeling or perception of what is right is the only law,
and the trained eye is the only measure. As in values, so in
composition you must study relations in nature, and results in the
work of the masters, to train your eye to see; and you must sketch and
block in all sorts of combinations with your own hand, to give you
practical experience.
=Scale.=--One point of great importance should be noticed. That is the
effect on the observer of the size of any main mass or object with
reference to the size of the canvas. This is analogous to what is
called _scale_ in architecture.
If the mass or object is justly proportioned to the whole surface of
the canvas, and is treated in accordance with it, it will impose its
own scale on all other objects. You can make a figure impress the
observer as being life size, although it may really be only a few
inches long. A house or castle coming into the picture may be made to
give its scale to the surroundings, and make them seem small instead
of itself seeming merely an object in a picture. This will be due to
the _placing_ of it on the canvas, largely, and more in this than in
anything else. The manner of painting will also lend importantly to
it; for an object to appear big must not be drawn nor painted in a
little manner.
The placing of objects of a known size near, to give scale, is a
useless expedient in such a case. At times it may be successful, often
of use; but if the scale of the main object is false, the other object
of known size, instead of giving size to the main one, as it is
intended to do, will be itself dwarfed by it.
=Placing.=--This matter of placing is one which you should constantly
practise. Make it a regular study when you are sketching from nature.
Try to concentrate in your sketches so as to help your study of
composition. In making a sketch, look for one main effect, and often
have that effect the importance of some object, studying to give it
_scale_ by the placing and the treatment of it, and its relation to
the things surrounding it in nature and on the canvas. In this way you
will be studying composition in a most practical way.
=Still Life.=--For practical study of composition, the most useful
materials you can have are to be found in still life. Nowhere can you
have so great freedom of arrangement in the concrete. You can take as
many actual objects as you please, and place them in all sorts of
relations to each other, studying their effect as to grouping; and so
study most tangibly the principles as well as the practice of bringing
together line and mass and color as elements, through the means of
actual objects. This you should constantly do, till composition is no
more an abstract thing, but a practical study in which you may work
out freely and visibly intellectual aesthetic ideas almost
unconsciously, and train your eye to see instinctively the
possibilities of all sorts of compositions, and to correct the
falsities of accidental combinations.
=Don't Attempt too much.=--Don't be too ambitious. Begin with simple
arrangements, and add to them, studying the structure of each new
combination and grouping. When you are going to paint, remember that
too much of an undertaking will not give you any more beauty in the
picture, and may lead to discouragement.
In the Chapter on "Still Life" I will explain more practically the
means you may take, and how you may take them, to the end of making
composition a practical study to you.
CHAPTER XXI
COLOR
The subject of color naturally divides, for the painter, into two
branches,--color as a _quality_, and color as _material_. Considered
in the former class, it divides into an abstract a theoretical and a
scientific subject; considered in the latter, it is a material and
technical one. The material and technical side has been treated of in
the Chapter on "Pigments." In this chapter we will have to do with
color considered as an aesthetic element.
=The Abstract.=--The quality of _color_ is the third of the great
elements or qualities, through the management of which the painter
works aesthetically.
Just as he uses all the material elements of his picture as the means
of making concrete and visible those combinations of line and mass
which go to the making of the aesthetic structure, so he uses these in
the expression of the ideal in combinations of color. In this relation
nothing stands to him for what it is, but for what it may be made to
do for the color-scheme of his picture. If he wants a certain red in a
certain place, he wants it because it is red, and it makes little
difference to him, _thinking in color_, whether that red note is
actually made by a file of red-coated soldiers, by a scarlet ribbon,
or by a lobster. The scarlet spot is what he is thinking of, and what
object most naturally and rightly gives it to him is a matter to be
decided by the demands of the subject of the picture; and its fitness
as to that is the only thing which has any influence beyond the main
fact that red color is needed at that point. If he were a designer of
conventional ornament, the color problem would be the same. At that
point a spot of red would be needed, and a spot of paint would do it.
The painter thinks in color the same way, but he expresses himself in
different materials.
=The Ideal.=--This is the reason that a still-life painting is as
interesting to a painter as a subject which to another finds its great
interest in the telling of a story. To the painter the story, or the
objects which tell it, are of minor importance. That the picture is
beautiful in color is what moves him. As composition and color the
thing is an admirable piece of aesthetic thinking and aesthetic
expression, and so gives him a purely aesthetic delight; and the
technical process is secondary with him, interesting only because he
is a technician. The representation of the objects incidental to the
subject is as incidental to his interest, as it is to the picture
considered as an aesthetic thought.
This is what the layman finds it so impossible to take into his mental
consciousness. And it is probable that many painters do not so
distinguish their artistic point of view from their human point of
view. But consciously or unconsciously the painter does think in these
terms of color, line, and mass when he is working out his picture; and
whether he admits it to himself or not, these characteristics are the
great influencing facts in his judgment of pictures, as well as in the
growth and permanency of his own fame. That is why a great popular
reputation dies so rapidly in many instances. The aesthetic qualities
of the man's work are the only ones which can insure a permanent
reputation for that work; for the art of painting is fundamentally
aesthetic, and nothing external to that can give it an artistic value.
Without that its popularity and fame are only matters of accidental
coincidence with popular taste.
If a painter is really great in the power of conception and of
expression of any of the great aesthetic elements, his work will be
permanently great. It will be acknowledged to be so by the consensus
of the world's opinion in the long run; nothing else can make it so,
and nothing but obliteration can prevent it.
I am explicit in stating these ideas, not because I expect that you
will learn from this book to be a great master of the aesthetic, but
because I am assured that you can never be a painter unless you
understand a painter's true problems. You must be able to know a good
picture in order to make a good picture, and however little you try
for, your work will be the better for having a painter's way of
looking at a painter's work. The technical problems are the control of
the materials of expression. The painter must have that control. The
student's business is to attain that control, and then he has the
means to convey his ideas. But those ideas, if he be a true painter,
are not ideas of history or of fiction, but ideas of line and mass and
color, and of their combinations.
=The Color Sense.=--Therefore color is a thing to be striven for for
its own sake. Good color is a value in itself. You may not have the
genius to be a good colorist, but you need not be a bad one; for the
color sense can be definitely acquired. I will not say that color
initiative can always be acquired; but the power to perceive and to
judge good color can be, and it will go far towards the making of a
good painter, even of a great one.
I knew one painter who came near to greatness, and near to greatness
as a colorist, who in twelve years trained his eye and feeling from a
very inferior perception of color to the power which, as I say, came
near to greatness. He was an able painter and a well-trained one
before that; but in this direction he was deficient, and he
deliberately set about it to educate that side of himself, with the
result I have stated. How did he do it? Simply by recognizing where he
needed training, and working constantly from nature to perceive fine
distinctions of tone; and by careful and severe self-criticism. Summer
after summer he went out-doors and worked with colors and canvas to
study out certain problems. Every year he set himself mainly one
problem to solve. This year it might be luminosity; next it might be
the domination of a certain color; another year the just
discrimination of tones--and he became a most exquisite colorist.
So, as I knew his work before and after this self-training, and as I
know personally of the means he took to attain his purpose, I think I
can speak positively of the fact that such development of the color
sense is possible.
=Taste.=--It is well to remember that taste in color is not dependent
on personal judgment alone; that what is good and what is bad in color
does not rest on mere opinion. That a good colorist's idea of color
does not agree with your own is not a matter of mere whim or liking,
in which you have quite as good a right to your opinion as he has to
his. The colorist, it is true, does not produce or judge of color by
rule. He works from his feeling of what is right. But there is a law
back of his taste and feeling. The laws of color harmony are
definite, and have been definitely studied and definitely calculated.
Color depends for its existence on waves of vibration of rays of
light, just as sound is dependent on sound waves.
=Color Waves.=--These waves of light give sensations of color which
vary with the rapidity or length of the wave, and certain combinations
of wave lengths will be harmonious (beautiful), and others will not
be. This is a matter of scientific fact; it is not a notion. The
mathematical relations of color waves have been calculated as
accurately as the relations of sound waves have been. It is possible
to make combinations of mathematical figures which shall represent a
series of harmonious color waves. And it is possible to measure the
waves radiated from a piece of bad coloring and prove them,
_mathematically_, to be bad color.
It is a satisfaction to the artist to know that this is so; because
although he will never compose color-schemes by the aid of
mathematics, it gives him solid ground to stand on, and it diminishes
the assurance of the man who claims the right to assert his opinion on
color because "one man's taste is as good as another's." It is also
encouraging to the student to know it, because he then knows that
there is a definite knowledge, and not a personal idiosyncrasy, on
which he can found his attempts to cultivate this side of his artistic
life.
=Color Composition.=--The artist's problem in color composition is
analogous to that of line and mass, but is of course governed by
conditions peculiar to it. The qualities which derive from line and
mass are emphasized or modified by the management of color in relation
to them. The painter in this direction uses the three elements
together. Contrast and accent are attributes of color. Dignity and
weight, as well as certain emotional qualities, such as vivacity and
sombreness, may give the key to the picture in accordance with the
arrangement of its color-scheme.
The mass may be simplified and strengthened, or broken up and
lightened, by the color of the forms in it. By massing groups of
objects in the same color, or by introducing different colors in the
different forms in the same group, the mass is emphasized or weakened.
So in line, the same color in repetition will carry the line through a
series of otherwise isolated forms, and effect the emphasis of line.
Masses can be strung into line, like beads, on a thread of color. In
the great compositions of the old Venetian painters this marshalling
of color groups constituted a principal element. The decorative unity
of these great canvases could have been possible in no other way.
As I have said, the key of the color-scheme has a direct emotional
effect, so adding to the power and dignity or the grace and
lightsomeness of the composition. The analogy between color and
imagination is marked. Certain temperaments instinctively express
their ideals through color. To the painter color may be an
all-influencing power; it is the glory of painting.
Drawing appeals to the intellect, but color speaks directly to the
emotions, and conveys at a glance the idea which is re-enforced
through the slower intellectual perception of the meaning of forms. In
some unexplained way it expresses to the observer the temperamental
mood; the joyousness, the severity or agitation which was the cause of
its conception. In this strange but direct manner the color note aids
the expression by line and mass of the aesthetic emotion which is the
meaning of the painter's thought.
=Key.=--The key, then, is an important part of the picture. The very
terms _warm_ and _cold_ applied to colors suggest what may be done by
color arrangement. The _pitch_ of the picture places it, in the
emotional scale.
=Tone.=--Tone is harmony; the perfect balance of color in all parts of
the picture. Fine color always means the presence, in all the color of
the picture, of all the three primaries in greater or less proportion.
Leave one color out in some proportion, and you have just so much less
of a balance. I do not mean that some touch may not be pure color. On
the contrary, the whole picture may be built up of touches of pure
color. But the balance of color must be made then by touches of the
different colors balancing each other, not only all over the picture,
but in each part of it, to avoid crudity or over-proportion of any
color. Generally the color scheme is dominated by some one color:
which means that every touch of color on the canvas is modified to
some extent by the presence of that color, keeping the whole in key.
Each color retains its personal quality, but the quality of the
dominant color is felt in it.
=False Tone.=--This is not to be attained by painting the picture
regardless of color relations, and then glazing or scumbling some
color all over the whole. This is the false tone of some of the older
historical painters, particularly of the English school of the earlier
part of this century. They "painted" the picture, and then just before
exhibiting it "toned" it by glazing it all over with a large brush and
some transparent pigment, generally bitumen. This did, in fact, bring
the picture in tone after a fashion. But it is not a colorist's
method. It is the rule of thumb method of a false technique and a
vicious color sense. True tone is not something put onto the picture
after it is painted. It is an inherent part of its color conception,
and is worked into it while the picture is being painted, and grows to
perfection with the growth of the picture. It is of the very essence
of the picture. It is the dominant balance of color qualities; the
result of a perfect appreciation of the value of every color spot
which goes to the expression of the artist's thought.
In one sense it is the same as _atmosphere_ in that the tonality of
the picture is the atmosphere which pervades it. It may perhaps be
best described by saying that it is that combination of color which
gives to the picture the effect of every object and part in it having
been seen under the same conditions of atmosphere; having been seen at
the same time, with the same modification, and with the same degree
and quality of light vibration. Tone is _color value_ as distinguished
from value as degree of power as light and shade; and in this is the
perfection of subtlety of color feeling.
=Tone Painters and Colorists.=--Some painters have been called "tone
painters," while others have been called "colorists;" not that tone
painters are not colorists, but that there is a difference. It is a
difference of aim, a difference of desire. Those painters who are
usually called colorists, like Titian and Rubens, are in love with the
richness and power of the color gamut. They are full of the splendor
of color. They paint in full key, however balanced the canvas. Each
note of color tells for its full power. Their stop is the open
diapason, and their harmony is the harmony of large intervals and full
chords.
The tone painter deals with close intervals. He is in love with subtle
harmonies. What he loves is the essence of the color quality, and not
its splendor. With the closest range he can give all possible
half-tones and shades and modulations of color, yet never exceed the
gray note perhaps; never once go to the full extent of his
palette-power.
The utmost delicacy of perception and feeling, and the most perfect
command of materials and of values, are necessary to such a painter.
Above all, is he the "painter's painter," for the infinite subtlety
and the exquisiteness of power are his. And yet this is the thing
least appreciated by the lay mind, the most difficult to encompass,
and requiring the most knowledge to appreciate.
=Scientific Color.=--To the scientist color is simply the irritation
of the nerves of the retina of the eye by the waves of light.
Different wave lengths give different color sensations. It is the
generally accepted theory now that there are three primary sensations;
that is, that the eye is sensitive to three kinds of color, and that
all other shades and varieties of color are the results of mingling or
overlapping of the waves which produce those three colors, and
irritating more or less the nerves sensitive to each color
simultaneously. These three primary colors are now stated to be red,
blue, and _green_. The older idea was that they were red, blue, and
_yellow_; and was based on experiments with pigments. Pigments do give
these results; for a mixture of blue and yellow _pigment_ will give
green, and a mixture of red and green _pigment_ will not give yellow,
while the reverse is the fact with _light_.
White light is composed of all the colors. And the white light may be
broken up (separated by refraction or the turning aside of light rays
from their true course) into the colors of the rainbow, which is
itself only this same decomposition of light by atmospheric
refraction. Black is the absence of light, and consequently of color.
This is not the case with pigment, for pure pigment has never been
produced. The pigment simply reflects light rays which fall on it;
that is, pigments have the power of absorbing, and so rendering
invisible, certain of the rays which, combined, make up the white
light which illumines them; and of transmitting others to the eye by
reflection. We see, that is, our nerves of sight are irritated by,
those rays which are not absorbed, but which are reflected.
All pigment is more or less absorbent of color rays, and more or less
reflective of them; certain color rays being absorbed by a pigment,
and certain other rays being reflected by it. The pigment is named
according to those rays which it reflects. As a color-producing
substance, then, the pigment is practically a mirror reflecting color
rays. But a true mirror would reflect all rays unmodified. If we could
paint with mirrors, each of which would reflect its own color
_unsullied_, we could do what the scientist does with light; but the
painter deals with an imperfect mirror which gives no color rays back
unsullied by rays of another class, and so our results cannot be the
same as the scientist's. So that just in accordance with the degree of
purity of transmitting power of a pigment will be the purity of the
color which we get by its use. But absolute purity of pigment we
cannot get, so we cannot deal with it as we do with light, and we deal
with a practical fact rather than a scientific fact, as painters.
=Primaries and Secondaries.=--As all the other shades of color are
produced by the combinations (over-lappings) of the waves or
vibrations in the light rays from the primary colors, we have a series
of colors called secondaries, because they are made up of the rays of
any two of the three primaries: as purple, which is a combination of
blue and red. When dealing with _light_ the secondaries are: shades of
violet and purple from red and blue; shades of orange red, orange,
orange yellow, yellow, and yellowish green from red and green; and
bluish green and greenish blue from blue and green--the character of
the color being decided by the proportions of the primaries in the
mixture.
These conclusions have been reached mainly through experiments in
white light. The primaries so obtained do not hold good with pigment,
as I have stated, but the principles do. It will avoid confusion if I
speak hereafter of the combinations as they occur with pigment, it
being borne in mind that it is a practical fact that we are dealing
with rather than a scientific one.
In dealing with _pigment_ the primaries are red, blue, and _yellow_,
not _green_. Of course the secondaries are also changed; and we have
purple and violet shades from red and blue, orange from red and
_yellow_, and green from blue and yellow--all of which vary in shade
with the proportion of the mixture of the primaries, as is the case
with light.
=Tertiaries.=--Another class of shades or colors is called _tertiary_,
or third; for they are mixtures of all the three primaries, or of a
primary with a secondary which does not result from mixture with that
primary. Tertiaries are all _grays_, and grays are practically always
tertiaries. If you keep this in mind as a technical fact, it will help
you in management of color. Grays are, to the painter, always
combinations of color which include the three primaries. The usual
idea is that gray is more or less of a negation of color. This is not
so. Gray is the balancing of all color, so that any true harmony of
color, however rich it may be, is always quiet in effect as a whole;
that is, grayish--good color is never garish. It is very important
that the painter should understand this characteristic of color. You
cannot be too familiar with the management of grays. If you try to
make your grays with negative colors, you will not produce harmonious
color, but negative color, and negative color is only a shirking of
the true problem. Grays made of mixtures of pure colors, balancings of
primaries and secondaries, that is, modifications of the tertiaries,
are quite as quiet in effect and quite as beautiful as any, but they
are also more luminous; they are _live_ color instead of _dead_ color.
Grays made by mixing black with everything are the reverse, and should
not be used except when you use black as a color (which it is in
_pigment_), giving a certain color quality to the gray that results
from it.
=Complementary Colors.=--Two colors are said to be complementary to
each other when they together contain the three primaries in equal
strength. Green, for instance, is the complementary of red, for it
contains yellow and blue; orange (yellow and red) is complementary to
blue; and purple (red and blue) is complementary to yellow.
The knowledge of complements of colors is very important to the
painter, for all the effects of color contrast and color harmony are
due to this. Complementary colors, in mass, side by side, contrast.
The greatest possible contrast is that of the complementaries.
Complementary colors mixed, or so placed that small portions of them
are side by side, as in hatching or stippling, give the tertiaries or
grays by the mixing of the rays.
=The Law of Color Contrast.=--"When two dissimilar colors are placed
in contiguity, they are always modified in such a manner as to
increase their dissimilarity."
=Warm and Cold Colors.=--Red and yellow are called warm colors, and
blue is called a cold color. This is not that the color is really cold
or warm, of course, but that they convey the impression of warmth and
coldness. It is mainly due to association probably, for those things
which are warm contain a large proportion of yellow or red, and those
which are cold contain more blue. There is a predominance of cold
color in winter and of the warm colors in summer.
From the primaries various degrees of warmth and coldness characterize
the secondaries and tertiaries, as they contain more or less
proportionately of the warm or cold primaries.
In contrasting colors these qualities have great effect.
=Color Juxtaposition.=--In studying the facts of color contrast and
color juxtaposition you will find that two pigments, if mixed in the
ordinary way, will have one effect; and the same pigments in the same
proportions, mixed not by stirring them into one mass, but by laying
separate spots or lines of the pigment side by side, produce quite
another. The gain in brilliancy by the latter mode of mixing is great,
because you have mixed the _color rays_, which are really light rays,
instead of mixing the _pigment_ as in the usual way. You have really
mixed the color by mixing _light_ as far as it is possible to do it
with pigment. You have taken advantage of all the light reflecting
power of the pigment on which the color effect depends. Each pigment,
being nearly pure, reflects the rays of color peculiar to it,
unaffected by the neutralizing effect of another color mixed with it;
while the neutralizing power of the other color being side by side
with it, the waves or vibrations of the color rays blend by
overlapping as they come side by side to the eye; and so the color,
made up of the two waves as they blend, is so much more vibrant and
full of life.
="Yellow and Purple."=--It is this principle which is the cause of the
peculiarity in the technique of certain "Impressionist" painters. The
"yellow lights and purple shadows" is only placing by the side of a
color that color which will be most effective in forcing its note.
Brilliancy is what these men are after, and they get it by the study
of the law of color contrast and color juxtaposition. The effect of
complementaries in color contrast is what you must study for this, for
the theory of it. For the practice of it, study carefully and
faithfully the actual colors in nature, and try to see what are the
real notes, what the really component colors, of any color contrast or
light contrast which you see. Purple shadows and yellow light
re-enforcing each other you will find to exist constantly in nature.
Refine your color perception, and you will be able to get the result
without the obviousness of the means which has brought down the
condemnation on it. Closer study of the relations is the way to find
the art of concealing art.
But yellow and purple are not the only complementaries. All through
the range of color, the secondaries and tertiaries as well as the
primaries, this principle of complement plays a part. There is no
color effect you can use in painting which does not have to do, more
or less, with the placing of the complementary color in mass, to
emphasize; or mixed through to neutralize, the force of it. Train your
eyes to see what the color is which makes the effect. Analyze it, see
the parts in the thing, so that you may get the thing in the same way,
if you would get it of the same force as in nature.
=Practical Color.=--All these theoretical ideas as to color have their
relation to the actual handling of pigment, which is the craft of the
painter. The facts of contrasting and harmonizing color relation have
a practical bearing on the painter's work, both in what he is to
express and how he is to do it; as to his conception of a picture and
his representation of facts. In his conception he must deal with the
possibilities of effect of color on color. The power of one color to
strengthen the personal hue of another, or its power to modify that
hue, is a fact bearing on whether the color in the picture is the true
image of the color he has seen in his mind. In the same degree must
this possibility affect his representation of actual objects.
The greatest possibilities of luminosity in sunlight or atmospheric
effects come from the power to produce vibration by cool contrasted
with warm color. You will find that a red is not so rich in any
position as when you place its complementary near it. At times you
will find it impossible to get the snap and sparkle to a
scarlet--cannot make it carry, cannot make it felt in your picture as
you want it without placing a touch of purple, perhaps, just beside
it; to place near by a darker note will not have the same effect. It
is the contrast of color vibration, not the contrast of light and
shade, which gives the life. And at the same time that you enhance the
brilliancy of the several notes of color in the picture, you harmonize
the whole. For the mosaic of color spots all over the canvas brings
about the balance of color in the composition, and harmony is the
result.
=Study Relations.=--You must constantly study the actual relations of
color in nature. You will find, if you look for it, that always, just
where in art you would need a touch of the complementary for strength
or for harmony, nature has put it there. She does it so subtly that
only a close observer would suspect it. But the thing is there, and it
is your business to be the close observer who sees it, both for your
training as a colorist, and your use as an interpreter of nature's
beauties. It is your business to see subtly, for nature uses colors
subtly. The note sparkles in nature, but you do not notice the
complementary color near it. Can you not also place the complementary
color so that it is not seen, but its influence on the important color
is felt? It is by searching out these _finesses_ of nature that you
train your eye. You must actually see these colors. At first you may
only know that they must be there because the effect is there. But
your eye is capable of actually recognizing them themselves, and you
are no painter till it can. The theoretical knowledge is and should be
a help to you, but the actual power of sight is most important. A
painter may use theoretical knowledge to help his self-training, but
power of eye he must have as the result of that training. The
instantaneous recognition of facts and relations, the immediate and
perfect union of eye and thought, are what make that intuitive
perception which is the true feeling of the artist.
Work this out with eye and palette. Study the color and its relation
in nature, and study its analogy in the pigment touches on the canvas.
=The Palette.=--You try to attain nature's effects of light with
pigment. Pigment is less pure than light. You cannot have the same
scale, the same range, but you must do the best you can, and the
arrangement of your palette will help you. As you have not a perfect
blue, a perfect red, and a perfect yellow, you must have two colors
for one. Your paints will always be more or less impurely primary. No
one red will make a pure purple with blue, and an equally pure orange
with yellow. Yet pure purple and pure orange you must be able to make.
Have, then, both a yellowish or orange red and a bluish or purplish
red on your palette. Do the same with blue and yellow. In this way you
can not only get approximately pure secondaries when you need them,
but the primaries themselves lean somewhat towards the secondaries, so
that you can make very delicate combinations with pure colors. A
bluish yellow and a yellowish blue, for instance, will make a rather
positive green. By using a reddish yellow and a bluish or purplish
red, you practically bring in the red note, and make a grayer green
while still using only two pigments.
So, too, you get similar control of effects by the use of opaque or
transparent pigments, the transparent ones tending to richness, the
opaque to dulness of color. Various processes in the manner of laying
on paint bring about these different qualities, and will be spoken of
in the chapter on "Processes."
Classify your pigments in your mind in accordance with these
characteristics. Think of the ochres, for instance, as mainly opaque,
and as yellows tending to the reddish. With any blue they make gray
greens because of the latter quality, and they make gray oranges with
red because of the dulness of their opacity and body. For richer
greens think of the lighter chromes and cadmium yellows or citrons;
and for the richer oranges, the deeper cadmiums and chromes. With
reds, work the same way, scarlet or orange vermilions for one side of
the scale, and the Chinese or bluish vermilion on the other side. The
deeper and heavier reds fall in line the same way. Indian red is
bluish, light red and Venetian red are yellowish.
PART IV
PRACTICAL APPLICATION