The Use of a Box of Colours Part 1

The Use of a Box of Colours.

by Harry Willson.

PREFACE.

BETWEEN those works on Art which are too costly, or too old to be useful now,--those, which are too comprehensive or prolix--and those, which teach nothing,--it was suggested to the Author, that an investigation and simple arrangement of the Principles on which he has. .h.i.therto successfully taught, with useful results, would form a _Practical_ Treatise, calculated to abridge the labours and shorten the road of the Student, by its available suggestions.

COMPOSITION.

'GENIUS is the power of making efforts.'

Erroneous opinions, once formed, seldom fail to affect the taste of a man's character through his whole life. It is, therefore, of the utmost necessity that his conduct be rightly directed.

'Art will not descend to us, we must be made to reach and aspire to it.'

'The great art to learn much,' says Locke, 'is to undertake a little at a time.' And Dr. Johnson has very forcibly observed--'That all the performances of human art, at which we look with praise or wonder, are instances of the resistless force of _perseverance_: it is by this that the quarry becomes a pyramid, and that distant countries are united by ca.n.a.ls. If a man were to compare the effect of a single stroke with a pickaxe, or of one impression of a spade, with the general design and last result, he would be overwhelmed with the sense of their disproportion; yet those petty operations, incessantly continued, in time surmount the greatest difficulties; and mountains are levelled, and oceans bounded, by the slender force of human beings.

'It is, therefore, of the utmost importance, that those who have any intention of deviating from the beaten roads of life, and of acquiring a reputation superior to names hourly swept away by time, among the refuse of fame, should add to their reason and spirit the power of _persisting_ in their purposes; acquire the art of sapping what they cannot batter; and the habit of vanquis.h.i.+ng obstinate resistance by obstinate attacks.'

To the many, of different ages, of different pursuits, of different degrees of advancement, who may take up this work, it will be difficult to address myself, as the mind requires instruction adapted to its growth; but I trust to being enabled to protect industry from being misapplied.

To such as desire to shorten the path to excellence, and to whom rules appear as the 'fetters of genius,' from mere impatience of labour, if their studies be not well _directed_, they will, just in proportion to their industry, deviate from that right way, to which, after all their exertions, they will have to return at last. It will be time enough to destroy the bridge when we have attained the sh.o.r.e. To render our efforts effectual, they must be well directed; and the student will ultimately triumph over those rules which before restrained him.

Begin wrong, and you are no sooner under sail, than under water!

When a difficulty presents itself, attack it as though you meant to overcome it, and the chances are you succeed.

Do not fancy that you have, or that you want, that illusion, _inspiration_; but remember Art is to be acquired by human means; that the mind is to be expanded by study; and that examples of industry abound to show the way to eminence and distinction. 'He must of necessity,' says Sir Joshua Reynolds, 'be an imitator of the works of other painters. This appears humiliating, but is equally true; and no man can be an artist, whatever he may suppose, on any other terms. For, if we did not make use of the advantages our predecessors afford us, the art would be always to begin, and consequently remain always in an infant state.' And we shall no longer require to use the thoughts of others when we have become able to think for ourselves: 'Genius is the child of Imitation.'

There are no excellencies out of the reach of the _rules_ of art--nothing that close observation of the leading merits of others, nothing that indefatigable industry cannot acquire. Refinement in the practice of _rules_ brings all under its dominion; and, 'as the art advances, its powers will be still more and more fixed by rules;' and, 'unsubstantial as these rules may seem, and difficult as it may be to convey them in writing, they are still seen and _felt_ in the mind of the artist, and he works from them with as much certainty as if they were embodied upon paper. And that it is by being conversant with the inventions of others that we learn to _invent_. The mind becomes as powerfully affected as if it had itself produced what it admires.' An habitual intercourse, to the end of our lives, with good and great examples, will invest our own inventions with their splendid qualities; and if we do not imitate others, we shall soon be found imitating ourselves, 'and repeating what we have before often repeated; while he who has treasured the most materials, has the greatest means of invention.'

It by no means appears to me impossible to overtake what we admire and imitate--or even to pa.s.s it. He 'has only had the advantage of starting before you,' while pointing the way has shortened our own labour. Life must henceforth become longer; because we now, more than ever, gain time by the experience of others: we pa.s.s on from that to our own, until every thing in nature, judiciously directed, becomes subservient to the principles and purposes of Art.

Again, 'I very much doubt,' says Sir Joshua, 'whether a habit of drawing correctly what we _see_ will not give a proportionable power of drawing correctly what we imagine.' But practice must always be founded on good Theory; for mere correctness of drawing is, perhaps, nearly allied to mechanical; blending it with the imaginative alone, in composition, const.i.tutes its pretensions to genius; but confidence in the one produces boldness in the other.

'All rules arise from the pa.s.sions and affections of the mind, and to which they are all referrible. Art effects its purposes by their means.'

'Years,' says a modern author, 'are often spent in acquiring wealth, which eventually cannot be enjoyed for want of those stores of the mind, that should have been laid up in youth, as the best solace of declining age. The most moderate power of making a sketch from nature would have been a valuable attainment, when leisure and opportunity threw them among scenes they could but half enjoy in consequence.' Besides, true Taste does every thing in the best way at the least expense, while the want of it often appears in unmeaning decoration at a vast outlay.

'A man of polite imagination,' says Addison, 'feels greater satisfaction in the prospect of fields and meadows than another does in the possession of them: it gives him a kind of property in every thing he sees; so that he looks on the world, as it were, in another light.'

When a Painter walks out, he receives at every glance impressions that would entirely escape others, upon sensibilities refined by habits of observation The art of seeing things as they appear is the art of acquiring a knowledge of drawing them. Indefinite observation and defective memory are improved in the utmost degree by this faculty of seeing things well defined. Besides, most Sciences are capable of receiving great a.s.sistance from drawing.

The road is familiar to the practised painter, whose many stages he has pa.s.sed through so often, and he seldom thinks of revisiting the earlier tracks of it when he has set up his study at the farther end; therefore, it behoves us to come back, and lead the pupil through those early stages of it, until we welcome him at the end, and he becomes as familiar with the way as ourselves. The lowest steps of a ladder are as _useful_ as the highest.

COMPOSITION, in drawing, is the art of disposing ideas, either from hints taken from nature, or from our own minds; of arranging them, with a view to subsequently dividing them into light and shade; and arraying them with judicious colour. It is the art of graphically telling a story, and should be so contrived, that the princ.i.p.al objects we would impress the minds of others with, should hold that just place in a picture, in relation to the minor or auxiliary parts, that may at once impress the mind, and convey our object to the view of the spectator.

To compose well, it will be necessary for the student to diligently consult the compositions of others; zealously enquiring where the _best_ are to be found, among the numerous instances that exist both in pictures and prints, that he may carefully avoid those that would mislead him in his research, and attain his object by consulting only those that have merited the approval of the best judges, and have come down to posterity as the best examples for his imitation. By adhering to this plan, it will readily become such matter of habit with him, that a comparatively short interval of time will force upon him the conviction that he is in the right path to future success. It were useless to add how many have began, and how many have failed, for want of this precaution at setting out. A splendid and fascinating effect, or a beautiful display of colour, or something or other that the artist has dexterously contrived to invest his work with, is generally the cause to which this failure is ascribable; while in the end, our own sympathies with a composition, correct in its management, appeal to the feelings and judgment at once.

In the first place, _much_ knowledge of perspective is not necessary to the student: the leading principles are all that are required, at setting out. As he goes on, it will be time enough to extend his enquiries.

Secondly, a _good manner_ of drawing the _parts_, or objects represented in a picture, with accuracy.

Thirdly, reference to the best compositions of others will enable him to compare and combine them.

Fourthly, to render some subservient to others, by a skilful distribution of Light and Shade.

Exercise the memory on various parts of objects, till you draw them well: the means of _connecting_ them will gradually occur, until the whole is united. The constant practice of this method will lessen the difficulty at every step, until it becomes a habit of the mind, and is rendered as easy to grasp a _whole_ scene, as before it was the parts.

The fleeting nature of effects of cloud or suns.h.i.+ne pa.s.sing before us, leave no time to meditate them; therefore, to impress the memory with them is the only resource left.

The single glance of an eye has been found sufficient to catch the pa.s.sing expression of character, and fix it on the memory, when that memory has been strengthened and matured by repeated efforts: so evanescent are the features of things and forms that pa.s.s us by, that observation--discriminative observation--a.s.sisted by habits of memory, alone can fix them in our ideas: no single expression of the human countenance remains long enough to paint it by any other means. When the memory has been thus exercised, the slightest hint will be sufficient to fire it. This may account for the expression, 'that artists see things where n.o.body else can find them!' It is an _improved perception_ that catches resemblances from almost ideal forms.

The most general forms of nature are the most beautiful. An enlarged comprehension sees the whole object _at once_, without minute attention to details, by which it obtains the ruling characteristics, and imitates it by short and dexterous methods. 'Science soon discovers the shortest and surest way to effect its own purpose;'--by an exact _adequate_ expression, and _no more_, adjusts the whole. The laziness of highly finis.h.i.+ng the parts, has been justly called the 'laborious effects of idleness:' excessive _labour_ in the detail, is always pernicious to the general effect, frittering it away; and, while you deceive yourself that you are acquiring art, your pursuit will end in mechanics, in default of more extended views--the _Art of seeing_ Nature!

To copy well, or even tolerably, is all that most amateurs ever arrive at: to draw from nature, originally, seems placed out of the reach of all, but those who devote a great part of their existence to it; and yet, to copy nature, is a goal that all would reach if they could! Try it, and behold the miserable production that is the result! without a previous devotion to its laws.

Instead of for ever copying, it will be found of more importance to be continually exercising the _memory_. 'A _mere_ imitator or copyist,'

says Dagley, 'dare not lose sight of his model, lest he should lose himself!'

In sketching from nature, always survey the object at _every point_ the nature of the ground will permit, as it prevents the disappointment arising from having completed your work, and afterwards seeing it from a point that would have given you greater advantages.

Whenever a pencil or pen is at hand, practice continually the perpendicular, horizontal, and diagonal lines; then strike circles out, or any other flowing lines, which practice will eventually give that flow to the hand which is understood by freedom. When power is acquired over these, _their combinations form Drawing_, in all its picturesque varieties. It is in the power of all to attain these forms and essential parts of drawing, with the same, or more facility, than the forms of writing are acquired.

'No object you can place in your picture, can possess its proper value, unless it is in its proper place;--out of that place, it can only create disorder.'

The size of a figure, or any other object, should denote the distance at which it is situated: so should the colour of it retire in the _same_ proportion.

The eye should be distant from the picture twice the length of it.

The most natural point of sight, is the level of a man's eye, standing up; which should be the line of the horizon, or where the sky meets it.

All mountains should rise above that line.

If a figure be placed on the bottom line of the picture, it should be the natural size, and all others diminish as they recede, in an exact proportion to their distance, care being taken that they never have the appearance of going up steps; all buildings, trees, &c., being governed by the same rule. Thus the second figure or object, being the same distance from the first as the first is from the eye, presuming them both to be of the same size in nature, the second will appear _half_ the size of the first; and, if the third be removed the same distance from the second, it will appear _two-thirds_ less; and so on they will diminish in equal proportion. At twice the distance, it will diminish _three-fourths_; and at one-third more, it will lose _five-sixths_; and so retire progressively, never varying the point of sight. One eye only should be open, in order to reduce all objects to one point of sight; the objects immediately in front, receiving alone the highest finish, that all may appear to have ground to stand on. If you look at nature with both eyes, you will never obtain the same relief upon a flat superfice.

The horizontal line should never be placed at _half_ the height of the picture, but always above or below it.

In drawing a room, or the nave of a church, place the centre of it on one _side_, and never in the middle; and nearer the _bottom_ than the top. Observe the same rule with the figures. One side should be in light, while the other is in shadow. The heads or parts of figures on the shadowed side should catch the light; while, to balance the ma.s.s, the dark groups should be placed on the light side. (_See plate 1, fig.

1._)

So, in drawing any single object, always place it sufficiently on _one side_, to procure a greater s.p.a.ce above it, than beneath; and more repose on _one_ side than the _other_. This principle should never be lost sight of, for even in portraits it has a bad effect.

To produce pictorial effect, in composing landscape, the lines should be of unequal length, forming acute and obtuse angles. Neither should they be vertical or horizontal with the sides or bottom of the square, but always diagonal, the distant horizon and lower streaks of the bases of the clouds excepted, which should be contrasted, by the upper parts of the clouds being round. Broken banks and spreading roots of trees will effect this. An exception, in buildings and architecture, something reverses this rule, from the lines being perpendicular and horizontal, in which case, the shadows must be diagonal. When a wall, for instance, is _straight_, a wheel, or circular object is generally placed against it, to reverse the lines by apposition.'