Dye woods used for marquetry--Braziletto, cam wood, logwood, Nicaragua,

red sanders, sapan, ebony, fustic (a species of mulberry), Zante (a

species of sumach). "Ebony is the black pear tree of Madagascar, at

least they make cider of its fruit." So says M. Luchet in an interesting

excursus on furniture manufacture in his book on the Paris Exhibition of

1867, in which he gives further details of ancient manufacture and its

modern imitation. "I know a factory," he says, "where the tortoiseshell

is false, the mother-of-pearl false, the ivory holly wood; the brass is

the only real thing, because science applied to industry has not yet

found out how to imitate it. When Boulle employed wood in his work it

was ebony--they have abandoned that for blackened pear wood, under the

pretext that ebony is a hard, close wood which twists, splits, and

cracks, takes glue badly, and refuses varnish. So that they call a man

who never uses ebony 'ébéniste.' They did not trouble about these things

in the time of Louis XIV. They never varnished their furniture, so it

did not matter that ebony would not take varnish.... There are two sorts

of tortoiseshell, that of the Antilles, often bad and scaly, but good

enough for common work, because it is thin and equal in thickness, and a

little carmine vermilion gives it a not unpleasant red tint. The Indian

tortoiseshell is thick and opaque and unequal, demanding preparation and

welding. It can only be used for expensive work, and takes easily a

black preparation which makes it magnificently austere." One ought to

mention here that good shell was often treated with carmine vermilion or

with gold, and that without a colour background it loses half its beauty

and value.

"In modern times six or eight couples of shell and metal are sawn

together, whereas two was the number in the fine period. This saves

money. A new Boulle bed, secretary, or chest of drawers should cost 15

to 20,000 francs. You may easily get one for 2000 made of rubbish. An

honest chest of drawers with tolerable mountings is worth 1500 francs.

In gelatine tortoiseshell and brass or zinc of the future 100 is the

price.... The mode still practised in Paris of making a good 'placage'

in preparation for marquetry or Boulle work is as follows:--A thicker or

thinner sheet of Italian poplar is placed between two sheets of oak with

the grain the other way, then on the external sheet of oak is placed the

wood intended to be seen, also with the grain the other way, the whole

of convenient thickness, and glued with the best glue. Good glue is the

nurse of the wood, say the masters. These four or five thicknesses of

wood pulling against each other neutralise all bad effects, and the

result is very good. The external covering is usually either mahogany,

American walnut, or violet wood (a sort of cedar). Sometimes it is

ebony, or perhaps a collection of small pieces of wood, such as acacia,

which are called by all sorts of pretty names. It is of this fine and

good 'plaqué' that they still make cupboards at 1000 francs, beds at 600

francs, and bureaus at 800 francs, which are the success and the pride

of Parisian joinery." The marqueteurs of Nice made use of olive for

veined grey backgrounds, orange and lemon for pale yellow, carob for

dark red, jujube tree for rose colour, holly for white, and charred fig

for black; arbutus served for dark flesh, and sumach for light.

It is advisable after the marquetry has been put together to reduce the

surface to a level and do something in the way of polishing, though it

is not necessary to carry the process as far as is often done by the

cheap furniture manufacturers. If nothing but wood has been used, the

surface should be reduced to a level with a toothing plane and scraped

with a joiner's scraper, taking care to apply it obliquely to the joints

as far as possible, so as to avoid digging down and so failing in the

object aimed at. If done very well and carefully it sometimes only

requires to be rubbed down with its own shavings, but it is more usually

necessary to follow with a worn piece of glass-paper on a flat piece of

cork, but the dust must not be allowed to collect into hard lumps upon

it, as these lumps would scratch the surface. Holtzapffel says that when

metal, ivory, pearl, shell, or tortoiseshell are mixed with the wood the

surface must be carefully levelled with flat files, ending with a very

smooth one, after which the scraper should be used if possible and

followed by glass or emery paper very sparingly. When metal

preponderates emery paper is best, and really good _sand_ paper may also

be used, but all paper should have very little "cut," should be applied

dry, and allowed to become clogged, so as to act principally as a hard

dry rubber or burnisher. If the polishing is at all in excess the wood

will get rubbed or worn down below the metal. The fine finish required

when tortoiseshell and metal are used is got by rubbing with blocks of

charcoal used endways with oil and the finest rotten-stone powder, much

like polishing marble, using oil instead of water. Wet polishing should

not be used for inlaid works; the water may soften the glue. A

superficial wetting is likely to warp the woods and make them curl up at

the edges, and the grain of the wood is almost certain to rise. Oil is

better than water, but light woods are almost certain to become stained

by polishing powders and fluid. To avoid this modern marquetry is often

covered with varnish applied with friction like French polish, or laid

on in several coats with a brush and polished off with pumice and rotten

stone, like the Vernis Martin, being first levelled with a file or

scraper and smoothed with glass-paper.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] The panel illustrated from the Albert and Victoria Museum is a good

average specimen of this kind, but not quite a masterpiece.

THE LIMITATIONS AND CAPABILITIES OF THE ART

The process described, by which the early works in intarsia were

produced, was slow and tedious; and, as may be supposed, though fame

might be won by its exercise, the winning of fortune was a very

different thing. Domenico di Nicolò, who made the stalls in the chapel

of the Palazzo Pubblico, Siena, and was thence called "del Coro," or

"dei Cori," a name which descended to his children in place of their

proper name of Spinelli, is an example in point. The petitions to the

priors already referred to, printed in Milanesi's Documenti per la

Storia dell' Arte Senese, show how little a man of talent, who was

constantly employed for many years and gained great reputation in his

art, could do to provide for his old age; and many returns of both

painters, sculptors, and woodworkers, made for the purposes of taxation

and printed in the same book, show that even in a great and flourishing

town like Siena, which prided itself on its artistic reputation, it was

often most difficult for the craftsmen, on whose work that reputation

was based, to make a living.[4] It is true that there were thirty-four

workshops for wood carving and intarsia in Florence at one time (1478,

as Fabroni says in his life of Lorenzo the Magnificent), from which one

may conclude that work of a certain sort was plentiful and lucrative,

and panels of intarsia were certainly sometimes exported, but it may be

observed that all the most celebrated intarsiatori practised some other

form of art also, and generally abandoned intarsia sooner or later; the

exceptions being those who belonged to the Olivetan and Dominican

orders, and therefore had no anxiety about their living. Of these

craftsmen the most celebrated were Fra Giovanni da Verona and Fra

Damiano of Bergamo, whose works were so elaborate and so finely executed

as to excite the suspicion that they were painted with the brush, though

supposed to be executed with wood and the chisel. The anecdote of the

Emperor Charles V.'s trial of Fra Damiano's tarsia panel in S. Domenico,

Bologna, attests the wonderful quality of the work, and its success in

attaining a doubtful aim, and Barili's inscription in the panel showing

himself at work shows that it was not uncommon for such panels to be

supposed to be the work of the brush. The designs from which the

intarsia was executed were often furnished by painters of repute, and

pictures or portions of pictures were copied, a proceeding which Fra

Giovanni's discovery of stains and washes of different kinds made

easier, until the proper limits of the art were far overpassed, and its

decorative quality quite lost sight of in the attempt to rival a form of

art the requirements of which were quite different. The beautiful

arabesques, which the designers of the early Renaissance poured forth

with exhaustless fertility, show the capabilities of the process for

decorating flat surfaces, and the perspectives of cupboards and

buildings were often most successful without passing the limits imposed

by the material.

The question of the limits within which the craftsman's effort should be

confined in any form of art craftsmanship is a thorny one, for the

attempt to overstep those limits has always had attractions for the

craftsman who is master of his craft, and who sighs for fresh fields to

conquer, knowing better than the outsider what are the difficulties

which he has overcome successfully in any piece of work from the side of

craftsmanship, though often with disastrous results when the matter is

regarded from the point of view of excellence in design and purity of

taste. It has been maintained by purists in modern times that all

engraving or shading of the pieces of wood used in forming the design is

illegitimate; and if this be so, it is equally illegitimate to stain any

of them; but it is undeniable that a great addition to the resources of

the inlayer was made by the discoveries of Fra Giovanni, and it seems

unreasonable to refuse to make any use of them because later

intarsiatori abused these means of gaining effect. The earliest work, it

is true, depends mainly upon silhouette for its beauty, but does not

altogether disdain lines within the main outline, and the abandonment of

these inner lines, whether made by graver or saw, so reduces the

possibilities of choice of subject as to restrict the designer to a

simplicity which is apt to become bald. A great deal may be done by

choice of pieces of wood and arrangement of the direction of the

lines of the grain; some of Fra Giovanni's perspectives show very

suggestive skies made in this manner, and Fra Damiano was very

successful in thus suggesting the texture of much veined and coloured

marble and of rocks, but directly the human figure enters into the

design these expedients are felt to be insufficient and inexpressive,

and inner lines have perforce to be introduced. The opposite extreme is

such work as the panels by the brothers Caniana in the Colleoni Chapel

at Bergamo, in which the composition and drawing of the figures recall

the designs of the Caracci, and the technique of the shading reminds one

of a copper plate, while the tinting and gradation of the colours take

away all impression of a work in wood, substituting that of a coloured

engraving. Here it is quite evident that the desire to imitate pictorial

qualities has led the craftsman far away from what should have been his

aim, viz., to display the qualities of the material which he was using

to the best advantage, consistently with the position and purpose of his

work in it. Not that perfection of workmanship is to be decried, though

it is only occasionally that one is able to make use of, or indeed

produce it. But the æsthetic sense demands that consideration for

material and purpose in every production which the joy and pride of the

craftsman in overcoming difficulties sometimes prevents him from

giving. Notwithstanding the beauty of much of the marquetry of the

periods of Louis XIV. and Louis XV., one often feels that design has

been put to one side in the endeavour to gain a realistic effect, and

the same defect may be traced more clearly in the clumsier Dutch and

German productions. Even in the Italian work of an earlier date every

now and then the same fault peeps out, though the excellent taste of the

nation at that period prevented the Italians from falling into such

excesses, and one generally feels the wood even in their most elaborate

perspectives. It may be asserted in a general way that the more colours

are used the less likelihood is there of the effect being quite

satisfactory, and that any light and shade introduced should be of the

simplest kind. A slight darkening of parts of the wood to gain a certain

suggestion of roundness is quite admissible, but the expedient should be

used with discretion, lavish employment of it leading to heaviness of

effect and a monotony of tone which are most unpleasing. If ivory or

metals are introduced the greatest care is necessary to prevent them

from giving a spotty and uneven effect to the design, for neither these

two materials nor mother-of-pearl marry quite with the tone of the wood;

and this inequality is likely to increase with age, as the wood becomes

richer and mellower in colour. Such materials should be so used that

the points where they occur may form a pattern in themselves

independently of the rest of the design, so that the effect may be

pleasing at first sight, before the general meaning of the less

prominent details is realised. Any other way of using them courts

failure, since the effect of the whole design is ruined by the

uncalculated prominence and inequality of these materials here and

there. The Dutch sometimes made use of mother-of-pearl, in pieces upon

which engraving broke up the hard glitter of the material, mingled with

brass wire and nails or studs driven into the surface of the wood. The

two materials appear to be quite harmonious, and small articles

decorated in this manner are effective and satisfactory. The Italian use

of ivory for the decoration of musical instruments, chess and backgammon

boards, and other small objects is almost always successful, the

proportion between wood and ivory being well judged, and the forms of

the ornament pleasing.

[Illustration: _To face page 122._

Plate 53.--_Panel from S. Maria in Organo, Verona._]

The modern French marquetry, though exceedingly clever and beautiful in

its use of various woods, errs by want of consideration of the surface

to be decorated, the subjects flowing over the surfaces and overflowing

the proper boundaries very often; and also sins in using many woods of

very slightly different tones and textures, which will almost certainly

lose their reciprocal relation in the course of time, and thereby their

decorative effect. The ancient intarsias were made of a small number of

different woods, and the effect was kept simple; pear, white poplar,

oak, walnut, and holly almost exhaust the list; while even Roentgen's

work, in which he used a larger number of woods, including some of those

foreign trees which Dutch commerce made available for him, has suffered

from their changing and fading. I would advise the marqueteur to

disregard most of the many foreign woods now in the market, and content

himself with simple and well-proved effects for the most part, trusting

rather to beauty of design to give distinction to his work than to

variety of colour and startling effects of contrast.

[Illustration: Plate 54.--_Panel from S. Maria in Organo, Verona._

_To face page 126._]

It is the fashion at the present day to exhort the designer to found his

design upon the study of nature, which is right enough if accompanied by

discretion and a feeling for style. In many mouths, however, the

exhortation means that the copying of natural forms is advised, and

often, if one may judge from the examples which one sees around one,

without selection either of subject or form. Now it is obvious that it

is sometimes the beauty of form in natural objects which attracts the

eye, and sometimes the beauty or strangeness of colours, either in their

combination or from the unusual tint. And while the former quality

fits the object for translation into ornament, by means of

simplification and repetition, the latter is more likely to be the

suggestive starting point for the production of something quite

different than a factor in a directly-derived composition. Certain forms

of flowers and leaves are also suitable for ornament expressed in a

certain way, and when this harmony occurs the representation of nature

is satisfactory as ornament; but the reverse is very often shown to be

the case in work of a more modern type, in which the design is based on

the dictum that the copying of natural forms will produce ornament. It

is not the copying of natural forms, but the ordering of the spaces, the

arranging and balancing of line and mass, and the adaptation of means to

ends which produce satisfactory decoration, and in the best Italian

intarsias founded upon freely-growing, natural plants this is well

shown. The observation of natural growth shown in illustrations Nos. 53,

54, and 55 is considerable, but the panels are not so beautiful because

the bay, the pink, or the lily are so well rendered, but because the

pattern of waving lines is so well fitted to the space it has to fill,

and the shapes of the silhouettes are so expressive. In the later French

marquetry we often find an equal or almost equal dexterity in expressing

the natural form, and an almost greater cleverness in adapting the

design to the material; but the Italian work has a fineness of style

shown in a grace of arrangement and of proportioning the ornament to the

space to be filled which is unsurpassable.

Certain remarks made by Mr. Stephen Webb, in a paper read to the Society

of Arts on April 28, 1899, as to the qualities which the designer or

craftsman must possess for successfully producing intarsia, are worth

reproducing here as the sayings of a man who himself has done much

beautiful work of the kind. "Tone harmony, and in a limited degree, the

sense of values, he must certainly cultivate. He must be able to draw a

line or combination of lines which _may_ be ingenious if you like, but

_must_ be delicate and graceful, vigorous withal, and in proper relation

to any masses which he may introduce into his design. He must thoroughly

understand the value of contrast in line and surface form, but these

matters, though a stumbling block to the amateur, are the opportunities

of the competent designer and craftsman. The most charming possibilities

of broken colour lie ready to his hand, to be merely selected by him and

introduced into his design. If the wood be properly selected shading is

rarely necessary, and if it is done at all should be done by an artist.

In the hands of an artist very beautiful effects may be obtained, the

same kind of wood being made to yield quite a number of varying shades

of colour of a low but rich tone. Over-staining and the abuse of shading

are destructive. Ivory has always been a favourite material with workers

in tarsia, and in the hands of an experienced designer very charming

things may be done with it. There is, however, no material suitable for

tarsia which requires so much care and experience in its use. It is

ineffective in light-coloured woods, and in the darker ordinary woods,

such as ebony, stained mahogany, or rosewood, under polish, the contrast

of colour is so great that the ivory must be used very sparingly. The

ivory is sometimes stained in order to bring its colour more into

harmony with a dark wood-ground, but it is never quite satisfactory. The

use of inlay makes the direction from which the light enters the room a

matter of no moment, so long as the light reaches the object decorated."

The effect of intarsia has been sought by various imitative processes,

some of which are indistinguishable from it except by close inspection.

In one of these wax, either in its natural state or tinted with an

addition of powder colour, was used; in another glue mixed with whiting

or plaster, also sometimes tinged, or red lead. On April 7, 1902, a

paper was read at the Royal Institute of British Architects on wax

stoppings of this kind by Mr. Heywood Sumner, in the course of which he

said that the process he himself had used was as follows:--"First trace

the design on the panel of wood to be incised; cut it, either with a V

tool or knife blade fixed in a tool-handle; clear out the larger spaces

with a small gouge, leaving tool-mark roughness in the bottoms for key;

when cut, stop the suction of the wood by several coats of white, hard

polish. For coloured stoppings, resin (as white as can be got), beeswax,

and powdered distemper are the three things needful. The melted wax may

be run into the incisions by means of a small funnel with handle and gas

jet affixed; it is attachable to the nearest gas burner by india-rubber

tubing, so that a regulated heat can be applied to the funnel. When thus

attached and heated, pieces of wax of the required inlay colour are

dropped into the funnel, and soon there will be a run of melted wax

dropping from the end of the funnel-spout, which is easily guided by

means of the wooden handle, and thus the entire panel may be inlaid with

the melted wax. Superfluous surface wax is cleared off with a broad

chisel, so as to make the whole surface flush. The suction of the wood

is stopped by means of white, hard polish, otherwise the hot wax will

enter the grain of the wood and stain it. Incised panels may be filled

successfully with japanner's gold size and powdered distemper colour,

using a palette knife to distribute the slab mixture. A close grain is

the one thing needful in the wood. As to design, that which is best

suited may be compared to a broad sort of engraving." Red lead was also

used sometimes, and in the furniture room at South Kensington there are

several chests and other pieces of furniture which have the incised

design filled in with a mixture of whiting, glue, and linseed oil.

[Illustration: Plate 55.--_Panel from S. Pietro in Casinense, Perugia._

_To face page 130._]

At Hardwick some of the door panels are painted with arabesques in

Indian ink, and varnished (a process also employed on several pieces of

furniture in the South Kensington collection), and even in certain

cases, no doubt under the direction of Bess of Hardwick, engravings have

been stuck on the panels, tinted, surrounded with similar painting, and

then similarly varnished over. The sacristy cupboards at S. Maria delle

Grazie, Milan, called "Lo Scaffale," show paintings of no less an artist

than Luini, the ornamental part of which is intended to simulate tarsia.

For small objects, such as trinket boxes, a marquetry of straw tinted to

different colours was sometimes employed, which, though not very

lasting, in the hands of a worker who possessed taste in colour

sometimes produced pleasing results, a form of work practised both in

Holland and England, and lasting well into the 19th century. The writer

possesses one or two objects decorated by this process which were bought

from the French prisoners taken in the Peninsular War, who provided

themselves with little luxuries by making and selling them. In all these

imitative processes the question of design becomes of the very highest

importance, since the material has neither beauty nor intrinsic value in

itself; and here, even more than in many other forms of manufacture, the

presence and influence of the intelligent designer is most desirable,

and should be paramount.

FOOTNOTES:

Intarsia and Marquetry · 第 7 / 9 段