The Use of a Box of Colours Part 7

In the conduct of light, I conceive the objects which receive its influence, should, of all things, as much as possible, partake of the colour of that light, as seeming more like an extension of it, and looking more natural:--thus, in a church, all the parts receiving the light from a painted gla.s.s window, would partake of its varieties of colour. The rising and setting of the sun turns all to gold, by the same alchymy, while it acts as an uniting link in carrying the colour through the picture: these, in their turn, throw their radiating reflects in a thousand other directions, keeping up and sustaining the communicative principle of the whole--imparted by the primitive cause and its agency.

The colouring of a picture should always be in _harmony_ with its light and shade.

The lights will require to be overcharged with colour, if the shadows are too heavy and loaded; on their transparency depends the beauty of both.

The shadows must be _darker_ than the shadowed sides of the objects which project them; for the reason explained in the article on Light and Shade.

The ma.s.ses of light should be of warm colours, yellow or red, supported by blue or grey in the shadows; a very small proportion of which will generally be found sufficient.

The _real_ colour of an object is only seen in the light. All shadows should partake, more or less, of the colour of the light. That shadow will appear the darkest that is surrounded by the brightest light.

The nearer a colour is to the eye, the purer it will appear; arraying itself as it retires, with the colour of the air interposed between it; consequently, the purest colours should only occur in foregrounds,--where the shadows, for the same reason, would likewise be darkest.

The colour of a light will be stopped at the part where any reflex reaches it. We see mountains covered with snow, at sunset, from the effulgence of its rays, make the horizon appear all on fire.

Distant mountains appear more deeply blue, according to the extent of the azure of the air interposed between them and the eye. All ma.s.ses in the distance partake, more or less, of this quality.

'The vapours mixing with the air, in the lower region near the earth, render it thick, and apt to reflect the sun's rays on all sides, while the air above remains dark; and because light (white) and darkness (black) mixed together, compose the azure that becomes the colour of the sky--which is lighter or darker, in proportion as the air is more or less mixed with damp vapours.'

Shadows produced by the redness of the setting sun, will be blue; from the reflexes of that part of the air not illumined by its rays.

If the sun is overcast, the lights will be general; so will the shadows.

If the sunbeams burst out, and strike the objects in a landscape, the shadows will then be dark in _proportion_ to the lights. The brilliant edges of the clouds all a.s.sist the general illumination; and all objects in the light, will partic.i.p.ate of _their_ colour from reflexion. On the contrary, those parts not included in the range of rays, remain the colour of the _air_.

The air partakes less of the azure of the sky as it approaches the horizon, being more remote from the sun than that part of it above our heads, which receives a larger portion of its rays. The horizon will be light, while, in ascending to the meridian, it becomes, from this cause, deeper and bluer. So the nature of all colours diminish in proportion as density of air is interposed between them and the eye.

Reflected colours, thrown from, and upon, equal angles, will be the strongest: the most distinct, being produced by the shortest ray.

No reflected colour will have the brilliance of a direct one. For, if a reflected light from a blue object be thrown on a yellow one, the result would be green:--green being composed of blue and yellow. This circ.u.mstance refers to most mixtures.

It only happens to those colours which are on a _level_ with the eye, that their gradation is in proportion to their distance. As to those of elevation, they are influenced by the quality of the air they are seen through.

Colours, whose nearest approach is to black, as they retire into distance, partake most of the azure of the air:--and those colours most dissimilar to black, preserve their proper colour as they recede. The golden lights on distant mountains or fields will best explain this.

'The green, therefore, of the fields will change sooner into blue, than yellow or white, which will preserve their natural colour at a greater distance than that, or even red.'

'It may happen that a colour does not alter, though placed at different distances, when the thickness of the air and the distance are in the same inverse proportion.'

_Ma.s.ses_ of shadow carry the strongest part of their colour to the greatest distance; as when trees appear thick together, acc.u.mulating the shadow on each other, they become darker by multiplying those shadows.

'The darker a mountain is in itself,' says Leonardo, 'the bluer it will appear at a great distance. The highest part will be the darkest, being more woody; because woods cover a great many shrubs and other plants, which never receive the light. Near the tops of those mountains, where the air is thinner and purer, the darkness of the woods will make it appear of a deeper azure than at the bottom, where the air is thicker.'

'In general, all objects that are darker or lighter than the air are discoloured by distance, which changes their quality, so that the lighter appears darker, and the darker lighter.'

Colours are more or less _entirely_ lost at a great distance from the eye, according to the purity or density of the air through which they are revealed, or as they are more or less elevated from the earth, merging as they retire into a general grey, occasioned by the quant.i.ty of the intervening air. In countries where the air is thin, colours are discernible at great distances, but still tinged with the colour of that air.

The _darkest_ colours, in distance, will be most of all impregnated with the colour of the air. So will the _strongest_ real or accidental shadows.

Colours and outline are best defined on objects placed _out_ of the strong light of the sun, and its reflexes. In sunshine, both are operated on by refraction, which occasions that chaotic indistinctness so painful for the eye to dwell on long together.

Every body, on which light falls, reflects a part of it back again. Any thing red, held before a looking-gla.s.s, gives back a portion of its own colour with great vividness; as a gla.s.s would throw the sun's ray on a wall.

The real colour of polished surfaces are lost in the colour of the light that falls on them. This likewise applies to all metals.

All smooth or shining surfaces repel the light they receive, throwing their reflexes on any thing opposed to them.

Polished surfaces, as in plate or armour, do not show their real colours. The reflected colours of the sun or air that shines on them confuse their own. Rough surfaces, on the contrary, retain their natural colours most.

Suppose the sun to equally illumine two sides of a street, as it pa.s.ses its centre, and on one side is a red house, and opposite to it a white one, the white one would be impinged with the reflection from the action of the light on the red one: thus, all proximity of colours affect each other, in the light, in the manner of reflexes, declining as they recede. The reflected lights in folds of silk draperies ill.u.s.trate this phenomenon best.

Compare the shadows thrown on different colours with each other, by placing a number of coloured materials in a dark place, the colours of shadows being regulated by the objects giving and receiving them.

Examine well the colours in the shadows of flowers; they present the most excellent combinations.

All colours, as at night, may be lost in that of the general shadow, presuming it dark enough to destroy all reflexes.

Colours reflected on by their _opposites_ will become neutralized; as green against red, purple against yellow, &c.

The shadows on all objects partake of the colour of the light, or are qualified by other lights throwing their reflects into them.

The lightness or darkness of shadows are entirely regulated by the colour of the objects on which they fall.

An object painted in a light colour will be more or less light, according to the strength of its shadow, from the consequences attending opposition.

So a light figure, laid upon a light background, but differing in colour--as a warm object on a grey sky--a.s.sists, in the greatest degree, the preservation of the breadth. Opposition of colour is, perhaps, of most use under these circ.u.mstances.

Colours on the figures or parts brought into notice by opposition may be sometimes applied with sufficient _depth_ and intensity as to advantageously take the place of _shadows_ or darks.

Light and shade may be produced by the influence of _colours alone_, judiciously applied; the reds and yellows supporting the lights, while the blues, greys, and cold colours form the retiring portions, or such as would otherwise be in shadow.

Suppose a picture, composed of one part shade and the other light--the light being warm, and the shadow composed of cold colours--a red or warm-coloured figure laid against the shadowed side, and a blue one brought out from the light, would, in addition to possessing the greatest force of colour, have a spirited and imposing effect. But the _contrary_ treatment would possess the greatest breadth and repose;--a dark figure laid on the ma.s.s of shadow (a point of which, being darker than the rest, would gather it together), and a light one on the light, having a point still higher in colour than the ground.

Rich, deep, and warm shadows are required to support strong coloured lights. So, strong colours are equally useful in focussing the shadows, or in giving them variety.

That beautiful diffusion of _aeriel_ and fluctuating _pearly_ reflections, that play equally over the surfaces of the strongest colours, shadows, and lights, in the tenderest hues and forms, and with which all nature appears invested, should engage our deepest attention and enquiry, as their properties so softly blend and break down the harshness and influence of positive colour, and the asperity of opposing tints, by tempering them with their airy and luminous sweetness.

If the general harmony or _hue_ of a picture is warm, the deepest shadows should be warm also; while the _strongest_ colour, being brought into the middle s.p.a.ce, will serve to connect both the light and the shadow. Indian red, in most instances, should be the mixing medium, using cold colours _sparingly_, and _only_ where they are wanted as a _foil_; as the greens of trees are set off from the rich brown shadows, producing a splendid effect, and bringing the hot and cold colours into harmony.

Colours, forming the middle tint and shadows, should always be warm; though the light may be cold, the effect will be beautiful.

Warm shadows will support the _strongest_ colours.

I generally observe that t.i.tian, Rubens, and the best colourists, use their reds in the shadows, at once to support and give them brilliance;--for when it happens that the shadows of a picture are wholly made up of warm colours, the effect is sure to be splendid, though the lights are cold;--considering red, perhaps, too _strong_ a colour to interfere with the _light_, at the risk of destroying its breadth. Their manner was often that of deepening the colour as it lost or absorbed itself in the background.

Every object receiving the light of the sun, receives likewise the _general_ light, producing _two_ shadows, the darkest one being occasioned by the sun.

When the horizon is tinged with red by the rays of the setting sun, the distant shadows, being blue or azure, mingling with the red, produces purple.

The air between the earth and the sun, when it rises or sets, invests all objects with a degree of obscurity, which is whiter on the earth than towards the zenith.