No. XXXIV.Example ofDaniel Vierge’sillustrations toPablo de Segovia, the Spanish Sharper, by Francisco de Quevedo-Villegas, first published in Paris, in 1882; afterwards translated into English (with an Essay on Quevedo, by H. E. Watts, and comments on Vierge’s work by Joseph Pennell), and published by Mr. T. Fisher Unwin, in 1892.Vierge was born in 1851, and educated in Madrid, where he spent the early years of his life. Since 1869 he has lived in Paris, and produced numerous illustrations forLe Monde IllustréandLa Vie Moderne, and other works. His fame was made in 1882 by Quevedo’sPablo de Segovia, the illustrations to which he was unable to complete owing to illness and paralysis. About twenty of these illustrations were drawn with the left hand, owing to paralysis of the right side. His career, full of romantic interest, suggests the future illustrator ofDon Quixote.These drawings were made upon white paper—Bristol board or drawing paper—with a pen and Indian ink; but Vierge now uses a glass pen, like an old stylus. The drawings were then given to Gillot, the photo-engraver of Paris, who, by means of photography andhandwork, produced metal blocks to be printed with the type.
No. XXXIV.
Example ofDaniel Vierge’sillustrations toPablo de Segovia, the Spanish Sharper, by Francisco de Quevedo-Villegas, first published in Paris, in 1882; afterwards translated into English (with an Essay on Quevedo, by H. E. Watts, and comments on Vierge’s work by Joseph Pennell), and published by Mr. T. Fisher Unwin, in 1892.
Vierge was born in 1851, and educated in Madrid, where he spent the early years of his life. Since 1869 he has lived in Paris, and produced numerous illustrations forLe Monde IllustréandLa Vie Moderne, and other works. His fame was made in 1882 by Quevedo’sPablo de Segovia, the illustrations to which he was unable to complete owing to illness and paralysis. About twenty of these illustrations were drawn with the left hand, owing to paralysis of the right side. His career, full of romantic interest, suggests the future illustrator ofDon Quixote.
These drawings were made upon white paper—Bristol board or drawing paper—with a pen and Indian ink; but Vierge now uses a glass pen, like an old stylus. The drawings were then given to Gillot, the photo-engraver of Paris, who, by means of photography andhandwork, produced metal blocks to be printed with the type.
But the whole effect is obviously untrue to nature, and the tricks—of black spots, of exaggerated shadows on the ground, of scratchings (and of carelessness, which might be excused in a hasty sketch forLa Vie Moderne)—are only too apparent.
In nearly every illustration in thePablo de Segovia(of which there are upwards of one hundred), the artist has relied for brilliancy and effect on patches of black (sometimes ludicrously exaggerated) and other mannerisms, which we accept from a genius, but which the student had better not attempt to imitate. To quote a criticism from theSpectator, “There is almost no light and shade in Vierge. There is an ingenious effect of dazzle, but there is no approach attempted to truth of tone, shadows being quite capriciously used for decoration and supplied to figures that tell as light objects against the sky which throws the shadows.” And yet in these handsome pages there are gems of draughtsmanship and extraordinarytours de forcein illustration.
In the reproduction of these drawings, I think the maker of the blocks, M. Gillot, of Paris, would seem to have had a difficult task to perform. The fact is, that Vierge’s wonderful line drawings are sometimes as difficult to reproduce for thetype press as those of Holbein or Menzell, and could only be done satisfactorily by one of the intaglio processes, such as that employed by the Autotype Company inéditions de luxe. That Vierge’s drawings were worthy of this anyone who saw the originals when exhibited at Barnard’s Inn would, I think, agree.
It is the duty of any writer or instructor in illustration, to point out these things, once for all. That Vierge could adapt himself to almost any process if he pleased, is demonstrated repeatedly in thePablo de Segovia, where (as on pages 63 and 67 of that book) the brilliancy and “colour” of pure line by process has hardly ever been equalled. That some of his illustrations are impossible to reproduce well, and have been degraded in the process is also demonstrated on page 199 of the same book, where a mechanical grain has been used to help out the drawing, and the lines have had to be cut up and “rouletted” on the block to make them possible to print.
Of the clever band of illustrators of to-day who owe much of their inspiration (and some of their tricks of method) to Vierge, it is not necessary to speak here; we are in an atmosphere of genius in this chapter, and geniuses are seldom safe guides to students of art.
Speaking generally (and these remarks refer to editors and publishers as well as draughtsmen), the art of illustration as practised in England is far from satisfactory; we are too much given to imitating the tricks and prettinesses of other nations, and it is quite the exception to find either originality or individuality on the pages which are hurled from the modern printing press; individuality as seen in the work of Adolphe Menzell, and, in a different spirit, in that of Gustave Doré and Vierge.
12The heading to this chapter was drawn in line and reproduced by photo-zinc process. (See page 134.)13The mechanical processes, neglected and despised by the majority of illustrators for many years, have, by a sudden freak of fashion, apparently become so universal that, it is estimated, several thousand blocks are made in London alone every week.14This excellent drawing was made on rough white paper with autographic chalk; the print being much reduced in size. It is seldom that such a good grey block can be obtained by this means.15The young artist would be much better occupied in learningdrawing on stonedirect, a branch of art which does not come into the scope of this book, as it is seldom used in book illustration, and cannot be printed at the type press. Drawing on stone is well worthy of study now, for the art is being revived in England on account of the greater facilities for printing than formerly.16The evil of it is thatwe are becoming used to black blotsin the pages of books and newspapers, and take them as a matter of course; just as we submit to the deformity of the outward man in the matter of clothing.17On the opposite page is an excellent reproduction of a painting from a photograph by the half-tone process.18“’Mongst Mines and Miners,” by J. C. Burrows and W. Thomas. (London: Simpkin, Marshall & Co.)19Both Mr. Cameron’s and Mr. Mendelssohn’s photographs have had to be slightly cut down to fit these pages. But as illustrations they are, I think, remarkable examples of the photographer’s and the photo-engraver’s art.20From theGraphicnewspaper, 28th October, 1893.
12The heading to this chapter was drawn in line and reproduced by photo-zinc process. (See page 134.)
13The mechanical processes, neglected and despised by the majority of illustrators for many years, have, by a sudden freak of fashion, apparently become so universal that, it is estimated, several thousand blocks are made in London alone every week.
14This excellent drawing was made on rough white paper with autographic chalk; the print being much reduced in size. It is seldom that such a good grey block can be obtained by this means.
15The young artist would be much better occupied in learningdrawing on stonedirect, a branch of art which does not come into the scope of this book, as it is seldom used in book illustration, and cannot be printed at the type press. Drawing on stone is well worthy of study now, for the art is being revived in England on account of the greater facilities for printing than formerly.
16The evil of it is thatwe are becoming used to black blotsin the pages of books and newspapers, and take them as a matter of course; just as we submit to the deformity of the outward man in the matter of clothing.
17On the opposite page is an excellent reproduction of a painting from a photograph by the half-tone process.
18“’Mongst Mines and Miners,” by J. C. Burrows and W. Thomas. (London: Simpkin, Marshall & Co.)
19Both Mr. Cameron’s and Mr. Mendelssohn’s photographs have had to be slightly cut down to fit these pages. But as illustrations they are, I think, remarkable examples of the photographer’s and the photo-engraver’s art.
20From theGraphicnewspaper, 28th October, 1893.
FROM “GRIMM’S HOUSEHOLD STORIES.” (WALTER CRANE.)
FROM “GRIMM’S HOUSEHOLD STORIES.” (WALTER CRANE.)
O turn to a more practical side of book illustration. The first principle of illustration is toillustrate, and yet it is a fact that few illustrations in books or magazines are to be found in their proper places in the text.
It is seldom that the illustration (so called) is in artistic harmony with the rest of the page, as it is found in old books. One of the great charms of Bewick’s work is its individuality and expressive character. Here the artist and engraver were one, and a system of illustration was founded in England a hundred years ago which we should do well not to forget.21
We are fast losing sight of first principles and aiming rather at catching the eye and the public purse with a pretty page; and in doing this we are but imitators. In the English magazines it is strange to find a slavish, almost childish imitation of the American system of illustration; adopting, for instance, the plan of pictures turned over at the corners or overlapping each other with exaggerated black borders and other devices of the album of the last generation. This is what we have come to in England in 1894 (with excellent wood engravers still), and the kind of art by which we shall be remembered at the end of the nineteenth century! I am speaking of magazines likeGood WordsandCassell’s Magazine, where wood engraving is still largely employed.
It may be as well to explain here that the reasons for employing the medium of wood engraving for elaborate illustrations which, such as we see in American magazines, were formerly only engraved on copper or steel, are—(1) rapidity of production, and (2) the almost illimitable number of copies that can be produced from casts from wood blocks. The broad distinction between the old and new methods of wood engraving is, that in early days the lines were drawn clearly on the wood block andthe part not drawn cut away by the engraver, who endeavoured to make a perfect fac-simile of the artist’s lines. It is now a common custom to transfer a photograph from life on to the wood block (see p. 167), also to draw on the wood with a brush in tint, and even to photograph a water-colour drawing on to the wood, leaving the engraver to turn the tints into lines in his own way.
In the very earliest days of book illustration, before movable type-letters were invented, the illustration and the letters of the text were all engraved on the wood together, and thus, of necessity (as in the old block books produced in Holland and Belgium in the fifteenth century), there was character and individuality in every page; the picture, rough as it often was, harmonising with the text in an unmistakable manner. From an artistic point of view, there was a better balance of parts and more harmony of effect than in the more elaborate illustrations of the present day. The illustration was an illustration in the true sense of the word. It interpreted something to the reader that words were incapable of doing; and even when movable type was first introduced, the simple character of the engravings harmonised well with the letters. There is a broad line of demarcation,indeed, between these early wood engravings (such, for instance, as the “Ars Moriendi,” purchased for the British Museum in 1872, from the Weigel collection at Leipsic, and recently reproduced by the Holbein Society) and the last development of the art in the American magazines. The movement is important, because the Americans, with an energy andnaïvetépeculiar to them, have set themselves the task of outstripping all nations in the beauty and quality of magazine illustrations. That they have succeeded in obtaining delicate effects, and what painters call colour, through the medium of wood-engraving, is well known, and it is common to meet people in England asking, “Have you seen the last number ofHarper’sor theCentury Magazine?” The fashion is to admire them, and English publishers are easily found to devote time and capital to distributing American magazines (which come to England free of duty), to the prejudice of native productions. The reason for the excellence (which is freely admitted) of American wood-engraving and printing is that, in the first place, more capital is employed upon the work. The American wood-engraver is an artist in every sense of the word, and his education is not considered complete without years of foreign study. The American engraver is alwaysen rapportwith the artist—an important matter—working often, as I have seen them atHarper’s, theCentury Magazine, andScribner’sin New York, in the same studio, side by side. In England the artist, as a rule, does not have any direct communication with the wood engraver. In America the publisher, having a very large circulation for his works, is able to bring the culture of Europe and the capital of his own country to the aid of the wood-engraver, spending sometimes five or six hundred pounds on the illustrations of a single number of a monthly magazine. The result isan engraver’s successof a very remarkable kind.
No. XXXV.(Photograph from life, engraved on wood. From the Century Magazine.)A Portraitengraved on wood at the Office of theCentury Magazine.Example of portraiture from theCentury Magazine. It is interesting to note the achievements of the American engravers at a time when wood engraving in England is under a cloud.This portrait was photographed from life and afterwards worked up by hand and most skilfully engraved in New York.
No. XXXV.
(Photograph from life, engraved on wood. From the Century Magazine.)
A Portraitengraved on wood at the Office of theCentury Magazine.
Example of portraiture from theCentury Magazine. It is interesting to note the achievements of the American engravers at a time when wood engraving in England is under a cloud.
This portrait was photographed from life and afterwards worked up by hand and most skilfully engraved in New York.
A discussion of the merits of the various styles of wood engraving, and of the different methods of drawing on wood, such as that initiated by the late Frederick Walker, A. R. A.; the styles of Mr. William Small, E. A. Abbey, Alfred Parsons, etc.—does not come into the scope of this publication, but it will be useful to refer to one or two opinions on the American system.
“Book illustration as an art,” as Mr. Comyns Carr pointed out in his lectures at the Society of Arts ten years ago, “is founded upon wood engraving, and it is to wood engraving that we must look if we are to have any revival of the kind of beauty which early-printed books possess. In the mass of work nowproduced, there is very little trace of the principles upon which Holbein laboured. Instead of proceeding by the simplest means, our modern artist seems rather by preference to take the most difficult and complex way of expressing himself. A wood engraving, it is not unjust to say, has become scarcely distinguishable from a steel engraving excepting by its inferiority.”
“Book illustration as an art,” as Mr. Comyns Carr pointed out in his lectures at the Society of Arts ten years ago, “is founded upon wood engraving, and it is to wood engraving that we must look if we are to have any revival of the kind of beauty which early-printed books possess. In the mass of work nowproduced, there is very little trace of the principles upon which Holbein laboured. Instead of proceeding by the simplest means, our modern artist seems rather by preference to take the most difficult and complex way of expressing himself. A wood engraving, it is not unjust to say, has become scarcely distinguishable from a steel engraving excepting by its inferiority.”
Mr. Hubert Herkomer, R. A., who has had a very wide experience in the graphic arts, says:—
“In modern times a body of engravers has been raised up who have brought the art of engraving on wood to such a degree of perfection, that the most modern work, especially that of the Americans, is done to showthe skill of the engraverrather than the art of the draughtsman. This, I do not hesitate to say, is a sign of decadence. Take up any number of theCenturyorHarper’smagazines, and you will see that effect is the one aim. You marvel at the handling of the engraver, and forget the artist. Correct, or honest, drawing is no longer wanted. This kind of illustration is most pernicious to the student, andwill not last....“America is a child full of promise in art—a child that is destined to be a great master; so let us not imitate its youthful efforts or errors. Americans were the first to foster this style of art, and they will be the first to correct it.”
“In modern times a body of engravers has been raised up who have brought the art of engraving on wood to such a degree of perfection, that the most modern work, especially that of the Americans, is done to showthe skill of the engraverrather than the art of the draughtsman. This, I do not hesitate to say, is a sign of decadence. Take up any number of theCenturyorHarper’smagazines, and you will see that effect is the one aim. You marvel at the handling of the engraver, and forget the artist. Correct, or honest, drawing is no longer wanted. This kind of illustration is most pernicious to the student, andwill not last....
“America is a child full of promise in art—a child that is destined to be a great master; so let us not imitate its youthful efforts or errors. Americans were the first to foster this style of art, and they will be the first to correct it.”
Mr. W. J. Linton, the well-known wood engraver, expresses himself thus strongly on the modern system, and his words come with great force from the other side of the Atlantic:—
“Talent is misapplied when it is spent on endeavours to rival steel-line engraving or etching, in following brush-marks, in pretending to imitate crayon-work, charcoal, or lithography, and in striving who shall scratch the greatest number of lines on agiven space without thought of whether such multiplicity of lines adds anything to the expression of the picture or the beauty of the engraving. How much of talent is here thrown away! How much of force that should have helped towards growth is wasted in this slave’s play for a prize not worth having—the fame of having well done the lowest thing in the engraver’s art, and having for that neglected the study of the highest! For it is the lowest and the last thing about which an artist should concern himself, this excessive fineness and minuteness of work.... In engraving, as in other branches of art,the first thing is drawing, the second drawing, the third drawing.”
“Talent is misapplied when it is spent on endeavours to rival steel-line engraving or etching, in following brush-marks, in pretending to imitate crayon-work, charcoal, or lithography, and in striving who shall scratch the greatest number of lines on agiven space without thought of whether such multiplicity of lines adds anything to the expression of the picture or the beauty of the engraving. How much of talent is here thrown away! How much of force that should have helped towards growth is wasted in this slave’s play for a prize not worth having—the fame of having well done the lowest thing in the engraver’s art, and having for that neglected the study of the highest! For it is the lowest and the last thing about which an artist should concern himself, this excessive fineness and minuteness of work.... In engraving, as in other branches of art,the first thing is drawing, the second drawing, the third drawing.”
This is the professional view, ably expressed, of a matter which has been exercising many minds of late; and is worth quoting, if only to show the folly of imitating a system acknowledged by experts to be founded on false principles.
But there is another view of the matter which should not be lost sight of. Whatever the opinion of the American system of illustration may be, there is, on the other side of the Atlantic, an amount of energy, enterprise, cultivation of hand and eye, delicacy of manipulation, and individual industry, cleverly organised to provide a wide continent with a better art than anything yet attempted in any country. Some fine engravings, which the Americans have lately been distributing amongst the people, such, for instance, as the portraits (engraved from photographs from life) which haveappeared inHarper’sand theCenturymagazines, only reach the cultivated few in Europe in expensive books. It is worth considering what the ultimate art effect of this widespread distribution will be. The “prairie flower” holds in her hand a better magazine, as regards illustrations, than anything published in England at the same price; and a taste for delicate and refined illustration is being fostered amongst a variety of people on the western continent, learned and unlearned. That there is a want of sincerity in the movement, that “things are not exactly what they seem,” that something much better might be done, may be admitted; but it will be well for our illustrators and art providers to remember that the Americans are advancing upon us with the power of capital and ever-increasing knowledge and cultivation. In theCenturymagazine, ten years ago, there was an article on “The Pupils of Bewick,” with illustrations admirably reproduced from proofs of early wood engravings, by “photo-engraving.”
This is noteworthy, as showing that the knowledge of styles is disseminated everywhere in America; and also, how easy it is to reproduce engravings by “process,” and howimportant to have a clear copyright law on this subject.
Of the English wood engravers, and of the present state of the profession in England much has been written. I believe the fact remains that commercial wood engraving is still relied on by many editors and publishers, as it prints with more ease and certainty than any of the process blocks.
That there are those in England (like Mr. Biscombe Gardner and others, whose work I am unable to reproduce here), that believe in wood engraving still as a vital art, capable of the highest results, I am also well aware. But at the moment of writing it is difficult to get many publishers to expend capital upon it for ordinary illustrations.
On the next page is an example of good wood engraving.
“DRIVING HOME THE PIGS.” (JOHN PEDDER.)(Academy Notes, 1891.)
“DRIVING HOME THE PIGS.” (JOHN PEDDER.)(Academy Notes, 1891.)
No. XXXVI.Joan of Arc’s House at Rouen, by the lateSamuel Prout.Engraved on wood by Mr. J. D. Cooper, from a water-colour drawing by Samuel Prout.The original drawing, made with a reed pen and flat washes of colour, was photographed on to the wood block, and the engraver interpreted the various tints into line. The method is interesting, and the tones obtained in line show the resources of the engraver’s art, an art rather carelessly set aside in these days.This engraving is fromNormandy Picturesque. (London: Sampson Low & Co.)
No. XXXVI.
Joan of Arc’s House at Rouen, by the lateSamuel Prout.
Engraved on wood by Mr. J. D. Cooper, from a water-colour drawing by Samuel Prout.
The original drawing, made with a reed pen and flat washes of colour, was photographed on to the wood block, and the engraver interpreted the various tints into line. The method is interesting, and the tones obtained in line show the resources of the engraver’s art, an art rather carelessly set aside in these days.
This engraving is fromNormandy Picturesque. (London: Sampson Low & Co.)
21InThe Life and Works of Thomas Bewick, by D. C. Thomson; inThe Portfolio,The Art Journal,The Magazine of Art, and inGood Words, Bewick’s merits as artist and engraver have been exhaustively discussed.
21InThe Life and Works of Thomas Bewick, by D. C. Thomson; inThe Portfolio,The Art Journal,The Magazine of Art, and inGood Words, Bewick’s merits as artist and engraver have been exhaustively discussed.
DESIGN BY WALTER CRANE.
DESIGN BY WALTER CRANE.
To turn next to the more decorative side of modern illustration, where design and theensembleof a printed page are more considered, it is pleasant to be able to draw attention to the work of an art school, where an educated and intelligent mind seems to have been the presiding genius; where the illustrators, whilst they are fully imbued with the spirit of the past, have taken pains to adapt their methods to modern requirements. I refer to the Birmingham Municipal School of Art.
No. XXXVII.Decorative Page, byA. J. Gaskin.(From Hans Andersen’sFairy Tales. London: George Allen.)This is a good example of the appropriate decoration of a page without any illustration in the ordinary sense of the word. The treatment of ornament harmonises well with old-faced type letter.The original was drawn in pen and ink, aboutthe same sizeas the reproduction. The ground is excellent in colour, almost equal to a wood engraving.This is another example of the possibilities of process, rightly handled, and also of effect producedwithout reductionof the drawing.
No. XXXVII.
Decorative Page, byA. J. Gaskin.(From Hans Andersen’sFairy Tales. London: George Allen.)
This is a good example of the appropriate decoration of a page without any illustration in the ordinary sense of the word. The treatment of ornament harmonises well with old-faced type letter.
The original was drawn in pen and ink, aboutthe same sizeas the reproduction. The ground is excellent in colour, almost equal to a wood engraving.
This is another example of the possibilities of process, rightly handled, and also of effect producedwithout reductionof the drawing.
Whilst using wood engraving freely, the illustrators of Birmingham (notably Mr. Gaskin), are showing what can be done in line drawing by the relief processes, to produce colour and ornament which harmonise well with the letterpress of a book. This seems an important step in the right direction, and if the work emanating from this school were less, apparently, confined to an archaic style, to heavy outline and mediæval ornament (I speak from what I see, not knowing the school personally), there are possibilities for an extended popularity for those who have worked under its influence.22
The examples of decorative pages by experienced illustrators like Mr. Walter Crane and others, will serve to remind us of what some artists are doing. But the band of illustrators who consider design is much smaller than it should be, and than it will be in the near future. A study of the past, if it be only in the pages of mediæval books, will greatly aid the student of design. In the Appendix I have mentioned a few fine examples of decorative pages, with and without illustrations, which may be usefully studied at the British Museum.
No. XXXVIII.
No. XXXVIII.
In all these pages, it will be observed, what is called “colour” in black and white is preserved throughout; showing that a page can be thoroughly decorative without illustrations to the text. Closely criticised, some of the old block designs may appear crude and capable of more skilful treatment, but the pages, as a rule, show the artistic sense—unmistakably, mysteriously, wonderfully.
In these and similar pages, such, for instance, asLe Mer des Histoires, produced in Paris by Pierre le Rouge in 1488 (also in the British Museum), the harmony of line drawing with the printed letters is interesting and instructive. (See Appendix.)
It is in the production of the decorative page that wood engraving asserts its supremacy still in some quarters, as may be seen in the beautiful books produced in England during the past few years by Mr. William Morris, where artist, wood engraver, typefounder, papermaker, printer, and bookbinder work under the guiding spirit (when not the actual handwork) of the author. They are interesting to us rather as exotics; an attempt to reproduce the exact work of the past under modern conditions, conditions which render the price within reach only of a few, but they are at least a protest against the modern shams with which we are all familiar.
The nineteenth-century author’s love for the literature of his past has led him to imitate not only the style, but the outward aspect of old books; and by a series of frauds (to which his publisher has lent himself only too readily) to produce something which appears to be what it is not.
The genuine outcome of mediæval thought and style—of patience and leisure—seems to be treated at the end of the nineteenth century as a fashion to be imitated in books, such as are to be seen under glass cases in the British Museum. It is to be feared that the twentieth-century reader, looking back, will see few traces worth preserving, either of originality or of individuality in the work of the present.
What are the facts? The typefounder of to-day takes down a Venetian writing-master’s copybook of the fifteenth century, and, imitating exactly the thick downward strokes of the reed pen, forms a set of movable type, called in printer’s language “old face”; a style of letter much in vogue in 1894, but the style and character of which belongs altogether to the past. Thus, with such aids, the man of letters of to-day—living in a whirl of movement and discovery—clothes himself in the handwriting of the Venetian scholar as deliberately as the Norwegian dons a bear-skin.
No. XXXIX.DESIGN FOR THE TITLE PAGE OF THE “HOBBY-HORSE.” (SELWYN IMAGE.)(This is a reduction by process from a large quarto wood engraving.)
No. XXXIX.
DESIGN FOR THE TITLE PAGE OF THE “HOBBY-HORSE.” (SELWYN IMAGE.)(This is a reduction by process from a large quarto wood engraving.)
The next step is to present in his book a series of so-called “engravings,” which are not engravings but reproductions by process of old prints. The “advance of science” in producing photo-relief blocks from steel and otherintaglioplates for the type printing press, at a small cost per square inch, is not only taking from the artistic value of the modernédition de luxe, but also from its interest and genuineness.
The next step is to manufacture rough-edged, coarse-textured paper, purporting to be carefully “hand-made.” The rough edge, which was a necessity when every sheet of paper was finished by hand labour, is now imitated successfully by machinery, and is handled lovingly by the bookworm of to-day, regardless of the fact that these roughened sheets can be bought by the pound in Drury-lane. The worst, and last fraud (I can call it no less) that can be referred to here is, that the clothing—the “skin of vellum”—that appropriately encloses our modernédition de luxeis made from pulp, rags, and otherdébris. That the gold illuminations on the cover are no longer real gold, and that the handsomely bound book,with its fair margins, cracks in half with a “bang,” when first opened, are other matters connected with the discoveries of science, and the substitution of machinery for hand labour, which we owe to modern enterprise and invention.23
Looking at the “decorative pages” in most books, and remembering the achievements of the past, one is inclined to ask—Is the “setting-out of a page” one of the lost arts, like the designing of a coin? What harmony of style do we see in an ordinary book? How many authors or illustrators of books show that they care for the “look” of a printed page? The fact is, that the modern author shirks his responsibilities, following the practice of the greatest writers of our day. There are so many “facilities”—as they are called—for producing books that the author takes little interest in the matter. Mr. Ruskin, delicate draughtsman as he is known to be, has contributed little to theensembleor appearance of the pages that flow from the printing press of Mr. Allen, at Orpington. His books are well printed in the modern manner, but judged by examples of the past, a deadly monotony pervades thepage; the master’s noblest thoughts are printed exactly like his weakest, and are all drawn out in lines together as in the making of macaroni! Mr. Hamerton, artist as well as author, is content to describe the beauty of forest trees, ferns and flowers, the variety of underwood and the like (nearly every word, in an article in thePortfolio, referring to some picturesque form or graceful line), without indicating the varieties pictorially on the printed page. The late Lord Tennyson and other poets have been content for years to sell their song by the line, little heeding, apparently, in what guise it was given to the world.
In these days the monotony of uniformity seems to pervade the pages, alike of great and small, and a letter from a friend is now often printed by a machine!
No. XL.“SCARLET POPPIES.” (W. J. MUCKLEY.)This beautiful piece of pen work by Mr. Muckley (from his picture in the Royal Academy, 1885) was too delicate in the finer passages to reproduce well by any relief process (the pale lines having come out black); but as an example of breadth, and indication of surfaces in pen and ink, it could hardly be surpassed.
No. XL.
“SCARLET POPPIES.” (W. J. MUCKLEY.)
This beautiful piece of pen work by Mr. Muckley (from his picture in the Royal Academy, 1885) was too delicate in the finer passages to reproduce well by any relief process (the pale lines having come out black); but as an example of breadth, and indication of surfaces in pen and ink, it could hardly be surpassed.
22I mention this school as a representative one; there are many others where design and wood engraving are studied under the same roof with success in 1894.23Mr. Cobden Sanderson’s lecture onBookbinding, read before the “Arts and Crafts Society,” is well worth the attention of book lovers.
22I mention this school as a representative one; there are many others where design and wood engraving are studied under the same roof with success in 1894.
23Mr. Cobden Sanderson’s lecture onBookbinding, read before the “Arts and Crafts Society,” is well worth the attention of book lovers.
ET us now consider shortly the Author, the Illustrator, and the Publisher, and their influence on the appearance and production of a book. If it be impossible in these days (and, in spite of the efforts of Mr. William Morris and others, it seems to be impossible) to produce a genuine book in all its details, it seems worth considering in what way the author can stamp it with his own individuality; also to what extent he is justified in making use of modern appliances.
How far, then, may the author be said to be responsible for the state of things just quoted? Theoretically, he is the man of taste and culturepar excellence; he is, or should be, in most cases, the arbiter, the dictator to his publisher, the chooser of style. The book is his, and it is his business todecide in what form his ideas should become concrete; the publisher aiding his judgment with experience, governing the finance, and carrying out details. How comes it then that, with the present facilities for reproducing anything that the hand can put upon paper, the latter-day nineteenth-century author is so much in the hands of others as to the appearance of his book? It is because the so-called educated man has not been taught to use his hands as the missal-writers and authors of mediæval times taught themselves to use theirs. The modern author, who is, say, fifty years old, was born in an age of “advanced civilisation,” when the only method of expression for the young was one—“pothooks and hangers.” The child of ten years old, whose eye was mentally forming pictures, taking in unconsciously the facts of perspective and the like, had a pencil tied with string to his two first fingers until he had mastered the ups and downs, crosses and dashes, of modern handwriting, which has been accepted by the great, as well as the little, ones of the earth, as the best medium of communication between intelligent beings; and so, regardless of style, character, or picturesqueness, he scribbles away! So much for our generally straggling style of penmanship.
There is no doubt that the author of the future will have to come more into personal contact with the artist than he has been in the habit of doing, and that the distinction I referred to in the first chapter, between illustrations which are to be (1) records of facts, and (2) works of art, will have to be more clearly drawn.
Amongst the needs in the community of book producers is one that I only touch upon because it affects the illustrator:—That there should be an expert in every publishing house to determine (1) whether a drawing is suitable for publication; and (2) by what means it should be reproduced. The resources of an establishment will not always admit of such an arrangement; but the editors and publishers who are informed on these matters can easily be distinguished by the quality of their publications. By the substitution of process blocks for wood engravings in books, publishers are deprived to a great extent of the fostering care of the master wood engraver, to which they have been accustomed.
Amongst the influences affecting the illustrator, none, I venture to say, are more prejudicial than the acceptance by editors and publishers of inartistic drawings.
It would be difficult, I think, to point to a periodwhen so much bad work was produced as at present. The causes have already been pointed out, the beautiful processes for the reproduction of drawings are scarcely understood by the majority of artists, publishers, authors, or critics. It is themisuseof the processes in these hurrying days, which is dragging our national reputation in the mire and perplexing the student.
The modern publisher, it may be said without offence, understands the manufacture and the commerce of a book better than the art in it. And how should it be otherwise? The best books that were ever produced, from an artistic point of view, were inspired and designed by students of art and letters, men removed from the commercial scramble of life, and to whom an advertisement was a thing unknown! The ordinary art education of a publisher, and the multitude of affairs requiring his attention, unfit him generally, for the task of deciding whether an illustration is good or bad, or how far—when he cheapens the production of his book by using photographic illustrations (“snap-shots” from nature)—he is justified in calling them “art.” The deterioration in the character of book illustration in England is a serious matter, and public attention may well be drawn to it.
Here we look for the active co-operation of the author. The far-reaching spread of education—especially technical art education—is tending to bring together, as they were never brought before in this century, the author and the illustrator. The author of a book will give more attention to the appearance of his pages, to the decorative character of type and ornament, whilst the average artist will be better educated from a literary point of view; and, to use a French word for which there is no equivalent, will be moreen rapportwith both author and publisher.
For the illustrator by profession there seems no artistic leisure; no time to do anything properly in this connection.
“It is a poor career, Blackburn,” said a well-known newspaper illustrator to me lately (an artist of distinction and success in his profession who has practised it for twenty years), “you seldom give satisfaction—not even to yourself.”
“It is anideal career,” says another, a younger man, who is content with the more slap-dash methods in vogue to-day—and with the income he receives for them.
Referring again to the question in theAthenæum, “Why is not drawing for the press taught in ourGovernment schools of art?” I think the principal reasons why the art of illustration by the processes is not generally taught in art schools are—
(1) drawing for reproduction requires more personal teaching than is possible in art classes in public schools; (2) the art masters throughout the country, with very few exceptions,do not understand the new processes—which is not to be wondered at.
It is not the fault of the masters in our schools of art that students are taught in most cases as if they were to become painters, when the only possible career for the majority is that of illustration, or design. The masters are, for the most part, well and worthily occupied in giving a good groundwork of knowledge to every student, as to drawing for the press. There is no question that the best preparation for this work is thebest general art teaching that can be obtained. The student must have drawn from the antique and from life; he must have learned composition and design; have studied from nature the relative values of light and shade, aërial perspective and the like; in short, have followed the routine study for a painter whose first aim should be to be a master of monochrome.
In the more technical parts, which the young illustrator by process will require to know, he needs personal help. He will have a multitude of questions to ask “somebody” as to the reasons for what he is doing;for what style of process work he is by touch and temperament best fitted, and so on. All this has to be considered if we are to keep a good standard of art teaching for illustration.
The fact thata pen-and-ink drawing which looks well scarcely ever reproduces well, must always be remembered. Many drawings for process, commended in art schools for good draughtsmanship or design, will not reproduce as expected, for want of exact knowledge of the requirements of process; whereas a drawing by a trained hand will oftenlook better in the reproduction. These remarks refer especially to ornament and design, to architectural drawings and the like.
The topical illustrator and sketcher in weekly prints has, of course, more licence, and it matters less what becomes of his lines in their rapid transit through the press. Still the illustrator, of whatever rank or style, has a right to complain if his drawing is reproduced on a scale not intended by him, or by a process for which it is not fitted, or if printed badly, and with bad materials.
But the sketchy style of illustration seems to be a little overdone at present, and—being tolerable only when allied to great ability—remains consequently in the hands of a few. There is plenty of talent in this country which is wasted for want of control. It plays about us like summer lightning when we want the precision and accuracy of the telegraph.
The art of colour printing (whether it be by the intaglio processes, or by chromo-lithography, or on relief blocks) has arrived at such proficiency and has become such an important industry that it should be mentioned here. By its means, a beautiful child-face, by Millais, is scattered over the world by hundreds of thousands; and the reputation of a young artist, like Kate Greenaway, made and established. The latter owes much of her prestige and success to the colour-printer. Admitting the grace, taste, and invention of Kate Greenaway as an illustrator, there is little doubt that, without the wood engraver and the example and sympathetic aid of such artists as H. S. Marks, R.A., Walter Crane, and the late Randolph Caldecott, she would never have received the praise bestowed upon her by M. Ernest Chesneau, or Mr. Ruskin. These things show how intimately the arts ofreproduction affect reputations, and how important it is that more sympathy and communication should exist between all producers. In the mass of illustrated publications issuing from the press the expert can discern clearly where this sympathy and knowledge exist, and where ability, on the part of the artist, has been allied to practical knowledge of the requirements of illustration.
The business of many will be to contribute, in some form, to the making of pictures and designs to be multiplied in the press; and, in order to learn the technique and obtain employment, some of the most promising pupils have to fall into the ways of the producers of cheap illustrations, Christmas cards, and the like. On the other hand, a knowledge of the mechanical processes for reproducing drawings (as it is being pressed forward in technical schools) is leading to disastrous consequences, as may be seen on every railway bookstall in the kingdom.
In the “book of the future” we hope to see less of the “lath and plaster” style of illustration, produced from careless wash drawings by the cheap processes; fewer of the blots upon the page, which the modern reader seems to take as a matter of course. In books, as in periodicals, the illustrator by process will have to divest himself, as far as possible,of that tendency to scratchiness and exaggeration that injures so many process illustrations. In short, he must be more careful, and give more thought to the meaning of his lines and washes, and to the adequate expression of textures.
There is a great deal yet to learn, for neither artists nor writers have mastered the subject. Few of our best illustrators have the time or the inclination to take to the new methods, and, as regards criticism, it is hardly to be expected that a reviewer who has a pile of illustrated books to pronounce upon, should know the reason of the failures that he sees before him. Thus the public is often misled by those who should be its guides as to the value and importance of the new systems of illustration.24
In conclusion, let us remember that everyone who cultivates a taste for artistic beauty in books, be he author, artist, or artificer, may do something towards relieving the monotony and confusion in style, which pervades the outward aspect of somany books. It is a far cry from the work of the missal writer in a monastery to the pages of a modern book, but the taste and feeling which was shown in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in the production of books, exists in the nineteenth, under difficult conditions.
In the “book of the future” the author will help personally, more than he has ever done, as I have already suggested. The subject is not half-ventilated yet, nor can I touch upon it further, but the day is not far distant when the power of the hand of the author will be tested to the utmost, and lines of all kinds will appear in the text. There is really no limit to what may be done with modern appliances, if only the idea is seized with intelligence.
Two questions, however, remain unanswered—(1) Whether, as a matter of language and history, we are communicating information to each other much better than the ancients did in cuneiform inscriptions, on stones and monuments. (2) Whether, as a matter of illustrative art, we are making the best use of modern appliances.
Let us, then, cultivate more systematically the art of drawing for the press, and treat it as a worthy profession. Let it not be said again,as it was to me lately by one who has devoted half a lifetime to these things, “The processes of reproduction are to hand, but where are our artists?” Let it not be said that the chariot-wheels of the press move too fast for us—that chemistry and the sun’s rays have been utilised too soon—that, in short, the processes of reproduction have been perfected before their time! I think not, and that an art—the art of pictorial expression—which has existed for ages and is now best understood by the Japanese, may be cultivated amongst us to a more practical end.