The Use of a Box of Colours Part 5

A knowledge of the natural chalks, or colours of black, white, and red, is indispensably necessary. So, a perfect acquaintance with the Three Primitives, blue, red, and yellow, is of equal consequence; that blue and yellow are brought together by red; and that all mixtures are the scientific result of the union of these three, no _two_ of which will produce the _third_. The result of the mixture of any _two_ gives the _contrast_ to the absent _one_:--as red and blue, producing purple, is the opposite to yellow; blue and yellow make green, the contrast to red; red and yellow, producing orange, contrasts blue; the three, blended together, gives us black: neutral tint is the result of the same mixture. A perfect knowledge of mixing tints, from this scale, will produce all the _compounds_ necessary to art, and their admixtures may be varied _ad infinitum_.

The neutral tint mentioned may be so varied, as to act in perfect union as the _shadow_ to any one of the colours composing it.

The modes or systems of obtaining these results of colour, as practised by the greatest schools, are exceedingly different. Sir Joshua Reynolds says: 'They may be reduced to three. The first may be called the Roman manner, where the colours are of a full and strong body, such as are found in the Transfiguration. The next is that harmony which is produced by what the ancients called the corruption of colours, by mixing and breaking them till there is a general union in the whole: this may be called the Bolognian style. The last manner belongs properly to the ornamental style, which we call the Venetian, being first practised at Venice; but it is perhaps better learned from Rubens. Here the brightest colours possible are admitted with the two extremes of warm and cold, and those reconciled by being dispersed over the picture, till the whole appears like a bunch of flowers.

'As it is from the Dutch school the art of breaking colour may be learned, so we may recommend here an attention to the works of Watteau, for excellence in the florid style of painting.

'To all these manners there are some _general_ rules, that never must be neglected. First, that the same colour which makes the largest ma.s.s be _diffused_, and appear to revive in different parts of the picture; for a single colour will make a spot or blot. Even the dispersed flesh-colour, which the faces and hands occasion, requires a princ.i.p.al ma.s.s, which is best produced by a naked figure. But where the subject will not allow of this, a drapery, approaching to flesh colour, will answer the purpose; as in the Transfiguration, where a woman is clothed in drapery of this colour, which makes a princ.i.p.al to all the heads and hands of the picture. And for the sake of harmony, the colours, however distinguished in their light, should be nearly of the _same_ simple unity in their shadows; and to give the utmost force, strength, and solidity to the work, some part of the picture should be as _light_, and some as _dark_ as possible. These two extremes are, then, to be _harmonized_ and reconciled to each other. Pure black, in these instances, is opposed to the contrary extreme of brightness.

'If to these different manners we add one more, that in which a _silvery grey_, or pearly tint, is predominant, I believe every kind of harmony that can be produced by colours will be comprehended. To see this style in perfection we must again have recourse to the Dutch school, particularly to the works of the younger Vandervelde, and the younger Teniers, whose pictures are valued by connoisseurs in proportion as they possess this excellence of a silver tint.

'Which of these different styles ought to be preferred, so as to meet every man's ideas, would be difficult to determine, from the predilection which every man has to the mode which is practised by the school in which _he_ has been educated; but, if any pre-eminence is to be given, it must be to that manner which stands in the highest estimation with mankind in general, and that is the Venetian style, or rather the manner of t.i.tian, which simply considered as producing an effect of colours, will certainly eclipse, with its splendour, whatever is brought in compet.i.tion with it.'

In landscape painting, the routine of placing one colour by the side of another according to any known or understood systems, is not so imperative as when applied to historical painting, and where the manner and effect of any particular school is to be produced.

To inst.i.tute a comparison between all who have excelled in colouring, would be useless here, differing so entirely. But of _Tone_:--The rich, and the mellow, and the silvery grey, are cared most for, as regards this expression. It involves all colours in its meaning, as well as the depth and power of the light and shade, when divested of colour. It is frequently produced after the picture is painted, by glazing or toning over it until the required depth and expression of colour is obtained, and mostly adding richness, splendour and variety. In water colour it is highly and essentially prized.

A beautiful quality of tone is obtained from drawing on grey or coloured paper, with black, white, and red chalks, the colour of the paper supplying the middle tint, (which should always pervade the largest s.p.a.ce). It is likewise an admirable principle to adopt in water colour, as it qualifies the whole appearance of the work, and the student will proceed with greater certainty.

Of the situations in which a colour appears most beautiful, Leonardo says, 'Black is the most so in the shade; white, in the strongest light; blue and green in the half tint; yellow and red in the princ.i.p.al light; gold in the reflexes, and lake in the half tint:' and 'the lighter a colour is in its nature, the more so it will appear when removed to some distance; but with dark colours it is quite the reverse.'

Some colours are rather unsociable, and, not mixing well with others, are best used by themselves, producing the required tint by glazing one over the other.

When any transparent colour is laid over an opaque one, or another of its own quality, it produces a mixture different to either of those that compose it; as lake over blue gives purple; yellow on blue produces green, and so on. In many cases this is a superior method to that of mixing them at once to the colour desired.

White is the receiver of all colours; black of none.

Any single colour appears most beautiful and brilliant when near the same colour, but not having so much density in it. Observe how colours are blended or contrasted in the plumage of birds, the wings of b.u.t.terflies, &c.

The shifting, blending, and comparing a number of coloured cards, has always been found a useful and amusing way of instructing children in a knowledge of colours.

Different coloured pieces of gla.s.s held up against a landscape, will serve to show, through their medium, the varieties of hot and cold effects.

Certain colours impart value to others, princ.i.p.ally by contrast; thus, the brilliant and rich glow of an autumnal evening is rendered most intense when the dark brown and neutral ma.s.ses of foliage are brought up against it: it is only to their relative situations that they owe their power.

That part of a white object which is nearest to a dark one, will appear the whitest, and the less so as it is removed from it. The same occurs by a dark one.

All colours will appear most perfect in themselves when contrasted with their _opposites_--a green against red; blue against yellow; black against white, &c.

Where one colour terminates on another, that is its contrast, there will be greater strength exhibited at the junction than in the middle.

Great darkness is only obtained by the opposition of bright light, and bright light by contrasting it with density of shadow.

Colours should recede in proportion to the _size_ of objects, as they retire from the eye.

Too frequent a repet.i.tion of the same colour will produce monotony; so will too much contrast.

Contrasts in colouring must be used with great caution, or the absence of all keeping will be the result. At the same time, the beauty of a colour is only fully developed by being placed by the side of its opposite, or the one from which it is farthest removed.

If the blacks in a picture are kept firm and decided, they _clear up_ the general effect, and give _lightness_ and buoyancy to the whole work.

A colour is often left single, and standing by itself, in some princ.i.p.al object; in which case, it is so contrived, by its density, or some other quality, to bring together and harmonize all the rest.

If colours are not placed in _harmony_ with each other, they must be in contact with such as give them value; as red against a cold, or green against a warm colour. In short, the grand principle, in all its const.i.tuent parts, simply amounts to this.

The strongest darks, brought in contact with the strongest lights, increase their brilliance, by giving to the lights the utmost force and clearness they can receive.

_Richness_ of colouring can only be adopted when the general tone of the picture is sufficiently _dark_ to support it.

All colours retire in proportion to their negative or neutral character; and as they develope themselves, gradually approaching to their brightest point, so they reach the prominent parts of the foreground.

Rich, warm, and deep shadows, will support the strongest colours; and if the browns are kept cool, the greys and cold colours retain their purity better. The colours that _unite_ the hot and cold parts of a picture require the nicest judgment: thus, white and black may be brought together by grey, (grey being _made of_ white and black); blue and red, by the interposition of purple, (purple being formed of blue and red.)

The larger the ma.s.s employed of neutral and _obscure_ colours, the greater will be the force and illumination in the _clear_ ones, which, being in their natures most attractive, should always be employed in parts intended to create the greatest sensation.

ON GENERAL NATURE.

THE magic of art does not consist in an exact resemblance of an object:--'An exact resemblance,' says Sir Joshua, 'may be even disagreeable. The effect of figures in wax-work, for instance, is disgusting to the eye accomplished to judge of Fine Art, yet it approaches reality. We are pleased, on the contrary, by seeing ends accomplished by seemingly inadequate means; but to express distances on a plain surface, softness by hard bodies, and particular colouring by materials which are not singly of that colour, produces that magic which is the prize and triumph of Art. The power of a few well-chosen strokes, which supersede labour by judgment and direction, produce a complete impression of all that the _mind_ demands in an object; we are charmed with such an unexpected happiness of execution, and begin to be tired with superfluous diligence, which, in vain solicits an appet.i.te already satiated.'

We do not desire those who look on our pictures to suppose them real men and women, or that they are real landscapes; but to admire the art through the _means_ by which it is performed.

I have always observed the most exact imitations of nature to be peculiarly within the sphere of the illiterate and uninformed; and the more debased and vulgar the mind, the more will it admire such productions. On the other hand, Fine Art has its own peculiar modes of imitating Nature and of deviating from it, for the attainment of its own purpose--'Nature to advantage dressed:' the great end of Art is to make an impression on the imagination and the feelings. The imitation of nature frequently does this; sometimes it fails, and sometimes else succeeds. 'I think, therefore,' says Sir Joshua, 'the true test of all Art is not solely whether the production is a true copy of Nature, but whether it answers the end of Art, which is to produce a pleasing effect upon the mind.'

Of the contracted ideas of high-finishers, I think excessive labour is excessive weakness, and vigour can never come from such a source: making every brick of a house appear, has nothing to do with the harmony of the architecture; nothing is so monotonous as these detail and 'bit painters;' their works, taken collectively, are universally effectless and good for nothing; it is, at best, overwrought ingenuity--not Art.

The combinations must be generalized; some object in the foreground may partake of this quality of finish, but if other parts of the composition be not proportionably slighted, there will be a want of general harmony.

No separate part should possess any preponderance sufficient to absorb the interest of the rest. An a.n.a.logous combination will alone invest the whole with the charm it conveys collectively, and infinite labour is saved. The high excellencies of painting belong invariably to harmonious combinations.

We frequently observe in the best works, the great effect produced by slightness, which, by a sort of magic, at a distance, a.s.sumes complete forms: this is scarcely ever the effect of chance or accident, however it may be made to appear so, but the result of deep and matured study, and a steady attention to the _general_ effect, produced, perhaps, by a few happy scratches, and is 'more laborious to the mind than the highest finishing would be,' accomplishing the purpose intended by a seemingly intuitive perception of what was required, and communicating a lively and vigorous impression to the minds of others by the energies of their own. Extreme labour seldom fails to produce heaviness, while that fascinating lightness of effect is universally occasioned by the absence of it. The slightest and most undetermined manner of treatment often succeeds in producing the best _general_ effect, which effect is as often wholly defeated in the attempt at _finishing_ and blending the colours and details. Some morsel or other is beautifully preserved, but the _whole_ is lost.

The _general_ effect of the stars is all order--all repose; but the _means_ by which this effect is produced is nowhere to be traced!

'The highest style has the least common nature in it:' 'Good sense is not always _common_ sense.'

'We may depart from Nature for a greater advantage. Nature is frequently narrow and confined in her principles, and must as frequently be departed from. Pictures should be painted to give pleasure, and every object which stands in the way of that pleasure _must_ be removed!'

Rubens thought the eye should be satisfied above all other considerations; he, therefore, painted his reflects stronger than Nature would warrant; thereby producing harmony from contrast and variety.

Reynolds, speaking of Claude Lorraine, says, 'Claude Lorraine was convinced that taking nature as he found it seldom produced beauty: his pictures are a composition of the various draughts which he had previously made from various beautiful scenes and prospects.'

The harmony proceeding from contrast and variety of colour is more conspicuous in the landscapes of Rubens, and the gorgeous colouring of the landscapes of t.i.tian, than in Claude--'departing from Nature for a greater advantage!' As in the moonlights of Vanderneer, the pictures of Cuyp and Both, and our own glorious Wilson, Gainsborough, &c. In choosing from among these great manners, we must lean on the observation of Reynolds, when he says, 'An artist is obliged for ever to hold the balance in his hand, by which he must decide the value of different qualities; that when some fault must be committed, he may choose the least.'

There is, beyond all doubt, a grandeur in _general_ ideas, that the narrow conceptions of _individual_ nature can never attain to.

Any subject, however mean or degraded in itself, but painted on a great principle, will acquire splendour and dignity from a.s.sociation.