Dürer, by Himself.Dürer,by Himself.To be studied as an example of directness andnaïvetéof painting.
Qualities.—There are other great qualities also which you can get in a portrait. All the qualities of color and tone, of course. But the simplicity of a single figure does not preclude the qualities of line and mass. The great things to be done with composition may as well be done in portrait as elsewhere. If you would see what may be done with a single figure, study the Portrait of his Mother, by Whistler. You could not have a better example. It is one of the greatest portraits of the world. Notice the character which is shown in every line and plane in the figure. The very pose speaks of the individuality. Notice the grace and repose of line, and the relations of mass to mass and space—theproportion. See how quiet it is and simple, yet how just and true. Of the color you cannot judge in a black and white, but you can see the relations of tones, the values and the drawing. It is these things which make a picture; not only a portrait, but a great work of art as well.
Portrait of his Mother.Portrait of his Mother.Whistler.
Drawing.—Good work in portraiture depends on good drawing, just as other work does. Don't think that because it is only a head you can makeit more easily than anything else. As in other kinds of work, the drawing you should try for is the drawing of the proportions and characteristic lines. Get the masses and the more important planes, and don't try for details. You can get these afterwards, or leave them out altogether, and they will not be missed if your work has been well done.
Don't undertake too much in your work. Make up your mind how much you can do well, and don't be too ambitious; the best painters who ever lived have been content to work on a head and shoulders, and have made masterpieces of such paintings. You may be content also. See how little Velasquez could make a picture of! and notice also the placing of the head, and the simplicity of mass, and of light and shade.
Painting.—Of course you can help your color with glazing and scumbling, but work for simplicity first. It is not necessary to use all sorts of processes; you can get fine results and admirable training from portrait studies, and the more directly you do it, the better the training will be.
Portrait of Himself.Portrait of Himself.Velasquez.
Study the Portrait of Himself, by Albrecht Dürer. You will find no affectation here; the most simple and direct brush-work only. You will not be able to do this sort of thing, but that is no reason why you should not try for it. It will depend on the brush-stroke. It implies a precisionof eye as well as of hand. It means drawing quite as much as painting,—drawing in the painting. You will not get this great precision; nevertheless, try for it, and get as near it as you can. Don't try for too much cleverness; be content with good sincere study, and the most direct expression of planes that you can give.
Let your brush follow lines of structure. Don't lay on paint across a cheek, for instance. Notice the direction of the muscle fibre. It is the line of contraction of the muscle which gives the anatomical structure to a face. If your brush follows those, you will find that it takes the most natural course of direction.
Do the same with the planes of the body and of the clothing. Note the lines of action, and the brush-stroke will naturally follow them.
See that the whole form, and particularly the head, "constructs." The head is round, more or less; it is not flat. The planes of it cross the plane of the canvas, recede from it, cross behind, and return. This in all directions. You must make your painting express this. It is not enough that there be features, the features must be part of a whole which is surrounded, behind as well as in front, by the atmosphere. The hair is not just hair, it is the outer covering of the skull, and of necessity follows the curves of the skull; and there is a back part to the skull which you cannotsee, but which you can feel—can know the presence of, because of the way it is connected with the front part by the sides. All this you must make evident in your painting, as well as the facts which are on the side of the skull turned toward you. How make it evident? By values and directness of brush-stroke.
Background.—Never treat the background as something different from the head. The whole thing must go together. The slightest change in the background is equivalent to that much change of the head itself. For the change means necessarily a different contrast, either of color or light and shade, and it will have its effect on the color or relief of the head.
Paint the two together, then. Make the head and all that goes with it or around it as equally parts of the picture, which all tend to affect each other. Your background is not something which can be laid in after the head is finished. True you can paint the background immediately around the head first, and then, after painting the head, extend the background to the edge of the canvas; but the color, tone, and character of the background must be decided upon at the time the head is painted, and carried on in the same feeling.
Portrait.Portrait.D. Burleigh Parkhurst.
It is never good work to paint the head and then paint a background behind it. Particularlyis this true when there are windows or any objects whatever in the background. It is most important that the whole thing shall be seen in the same kind of light, and in the same relation of light. This is hardly to be done when the head is one painting and the background another.
This is not rigidly true, however, in cases when the whole thing is planned beforehand, and studies made for each part, as in elaborate portraits and compositions which include several figures or special surroundings. But the principle holds good here also. The relation must be kept of the head to the surroundings, and the effect of the one upon the other always kept in mind.
Complex Portraits.—It is often possible to pose your model so as to bring out some characteristic occupation. This is often done in portraits of distinguished men. Such a treatment gives opportunity for composition both of the figure and of the various objects which may make up the background.
In such pictures you should study arrangement of line and mass, to make the thing æsthetically interesting as well as interesting as a portrait. Composition in mass,—the consideration of the head and shoulders in relation to the space of the canvas,—is necessary in the simplest head; but as soon as the canvas takes in a representation of action on the part of the figure, line and movementmust be considered, as was done so beautifully in Whistler's portrait. In this the study of composition is your problem. You may study it all the time and in every picture you do, but it should be worked out before you begin to paint.
Plan your canvas carefully always. Know just where everything is coming. When you leave things to chance, you are pretty sure to have trouble later.
Portraits Good Training.—I would not have you undertake to paint a portrait rashly. You should know what you are to expect. If you are not pretty sure of your drawing, and of the first principles of seeing color in nature, and of representing it on canvas, you are likely to get discouraged. Particularly if a friend poses for you, you may expect disappointment on both sides. Drawing a head from the life is a very different thing from drawing an inanimate object which will stay in one position as long as you can pay the rent. So in the painting of it, too, the color itself is alive. Flesh is something very elusive to see the color of. And when you find that just as you begin to get things well under way, or are in a particularly tight place, just at that moment your model must rest, you must stop while the position is changed and gotten back to again; then you will begin to realize that "la nature ne s'arrête pas."
I would have you know all this, I say, beforeyou begin on your first portrait; but, nevertheless, if you can get a start at it you will find it extremely good practice. The very difficulties bring more definitely to you the real problems of painting. The fact that it is really the representation of something which has life has an interest quite of its own. The constant change of position on the part of the model will make you more observant, and less regardful of details; or if you do regard the details, and forget the other things, it will show you how inadequate those details are to real expression, unless there is something larger to place them on.
Don't undertake the painting of a head without considering well that you are likely to have trouble, and that the trouble you will have is most likely to be of a kind that you don't expect. But, having begun, keep your head and your grit, and do the best you can. Remember that you learn by mistakes, and failures are a part of every man's work, and of every painter's experience, and not only of your own.
You will save your self-esteem from considerable bruising if you make it a point never to let your sitter see your work till you are pretty well over the worst of it. The knowledge that it is to be seen will make you work less unconsciously, and you will find yourself trying for likeness, and all that sort of thing, when that is not what youshould be thinking about; and if, after all, the thing is a failure, it is a great consolation to know that no one but yourself has seen it!
Beginning a Portrait.—The ways of beginning portraits are innumerable. There is no one right way. Some are right for one painter or subject, and some for others; but there are some methods which are more advisable for the beginner.
You can begin and carry through your painting entirely with body color, or you can begin it withfrottées, and paint solidly into that. Take these two methods as types, and work in one or the other, according to what are the special qualities you want your work to have.
If you have never painted a head, and have some knowledge of the use of paint and of drawing, I would suggest that you make a few studies of the head and shoulders, life size, in solid color, and on a not too large canvas, say sixteen by twenty inches. This will leave you no extra space, and you can devote your whole attention to the study of the head, with only a few inches of background around it. You will probably make the head too large. A head looks larger than it really is, especially when you are putting it on canvas. If you measure them you will find that few heads will be longer than nine inches from the top of the hair to the bottom of the chin. Take this as the regular size in drawing it on your canvas, and make the other proportions according to that.
Make a drawing of the outlines in straight lines, which shall give only the main proportions of the head, neck, and shoulders. Within this, block out the features largely. Don't draw the eyes, but only the shape of the orbit; nor the nostril, but only the mass of light and shade of the nose.
Construction.—In these studies avoid trying to get anything more than what will be suggested by this simple drawing. Use body color. Don't think of anything but what you have to represent. Never mind how the paint goes on, nor what colors you use, except that it is right in value, and as near the color as you can get. Put it on with the full brush, and try to get first the large masses and planes. Get it light where it is light, and dark where it is dark, and have contrast enough to give some relief. Don't try for any problems. Set your model in a simple, strong light and go ahead.
No details, no eyes, only the great structural masses. Try to feel the skull under these planes of light and dark. Have the edges of them pronounced and firm.
Do a lot of these studies; learn structure first. You will never be able to put an eye in its place in the orbit till you can make the plane of dark which expresses the bony structure of the orbit. You will feel the edge of the brow, of the cheekbone, and where the light falls on the temple andon the side of the nose. Inside of this is the dark of the cavity, broken for your purpose only by the light on the upper lid. Lay these in. Do the same with the other planes, and put your brush down firmly where you want the color, with no consideration but the simplest and most direct expression of value and color.
Now, when you can lay in a head in this way, so that you can express the likeness with nothing but these dozen or so of simple planes, you have got some idea of what are the main things which give character to a head. You will begin to understand how it should "construct." Into this you can put all the detail you want, and if the detail is in value with this beginning it will keep its proper relation to the whole.
Always when painting a head solidly, work this way. Get the action and character of the head as a whole. Block in the planes of the face and the features; and then go ahead to give the details which express the lesser characteristics. But always get the character, even the first look of resemblance, with this blocking in. Details and features will not give you the likeness, to say nothing of the character, if you have not gotten the character first by the representation of those proportions which mean the structure which underlies all the accidental positions of the detail of feature.
The Frottée.—If you want to be more exact with your drawing before you begin to paint, lay in your canvas with a light-and-shade drawing in charcoal. Then make afrottéein one color, and paint into and over that, as was described in the Chapter on "Still Life."
By careful and studious use of these two methods of work you can learn the main principles of painting portraits, and modify the handling as you have need; for all the various methods of manipulation are modifications of one or the other, or combinations of both of these fundamentally different ways of working.
If you paint more than one sitting, get as good a drawing as you can the first day. Put in yourfrottéethe next, or make your blocking in; then after that do your painting into thefrottée, or the working out of such details as you decide to put in.
Titian painted solidly, probably with no details; then worked these in and glazed, then touched rich colors into the glaze.
But you had better not bother with all these ways of painting. When you can work well in the simplest way, you will find yourself making all sorts of experiments without any suggestions from me. Work first for facts of utmost importance, and technical methods are not such facts. Perception and representation by any most convenient means are the first things to be thought of,and nothing else is of importance until a certain amount of advance is made along this line.
Learn to see and paint the wholeness of the thing at once, not the details, but thefactof it. Try to lay in things so that you have a solid ground to work onto and into later.
Look for the vital things. Don't try for "finish." Finish is not worked for nor painted into a picture; finishoccurswhen you have represented all you have to express. When you have got character and values and true representation of color, you will find that the "finish" is there without your having bothered about it.
The masses you are to look for and emphasize are the great spaces where the light strikes and the shadows fall. Close your eyes. The lines disappear. You only see large planes of values; express these at once and simply.
Don't be afraid of rudeness, either of handling or of color, at first. Don't try for finesse. All these delicacies will come later. But you must get the important things first. Learn to be strongfirst, or you never will be. Delicacy comes after strength, not before.
So, too, freedom comes after knowledge—is the result of knowledge. So paint to learn. If it is rigid at first and hard, never mind. Get the understanding and the representation as well as you can, and try for other things later.
Haystacks in Sunshine.Haystacks in Sunshine.Monet.To show certain characteristics of handling in "Impressionist" work.
From the usual rating of figures as the most important branch of painting, it would be natural to speak of that kind of work first. But work from the head must come before you attempt the figure, and there are a good many things that you can learn from landscape which will help you in figure-work. The manner of painting figures has been much modified, too, of late years, owing to certain qualities and points of view which are due to the study of landscape and the important position that it has come to occupy.
In the old days landscape was only a secondary thing, not only as a branch of art in itself, but particularly as it was used by figure painters. In this century it has so broadened in its scope that it is now recognized to be as important a field of work as any. But further than this, it has become the most influential study in the whole range of painting. From the development of the study of outdoor nature, and particularly outdoor light, it has come about that certain facts of nature have been recognized which were before neglected, ignored,or unsuspected, and these facts bear quite as much on the painting of the figure as on the painting of landscape. So that it is no more possible to paint the figure, in some respects, as it was painted as a matter of course a hundred years ago, while other ways of painting the figure, which were undreamed of at that time, are the matters of course now.
The whole problem of light has taken a new phase, and the treatment of color in that relation is modified in the painting of figures as well as in the other branches of work.
Pitch.—In no direction is this more marked than in the matter ofpitch, orkey. With the study of landscape, the range of gradation from light to dark has broadened. A picture may now be painted in a "high key;" the picture may be, from the highest to the lowest note in it, far lighter than would have been thought possible even thirty years ago.
This question of "bright pictures" is one which demands consideration. One has only to go into any exhibition of pictures to-day to be struck with the fact that the key of almost every picture in it, of whatever kind, has changed from what it would have been in the last generation. This is not merely the result of the spread of the "Impressionist" idea. That influence has only been strongly felt in this country within the last tenyears. It is not that which I am speaking of now. I mean the fact that even the grayer pictures—those which do not in any ordinary sense of the word belong to Impressionist work—are light in color, where they would once have been dark, or at least darker. The impressionists have had a definite influence, it is true; but the work of the earlier "plein air" men—the men who posed their models out-of-doors as a matter of principle, who studied landscape out-of-doors—was the first and most powerful influence, and that of the impressionists, coming along after it, has simply emphasized and carried it farther.
Bright Pictures.—Whatever may be thought of the work of those painters who are called "impressionists," it must be recognized that they have taught us how some things may be possible. And the present quality of brightness will necessarily be to a certain extent a permanent one in art. For like it or not as we may, it is true—true to a certain great, fundamental characteristic of nature. For outdoor lightis bright, even on a gray day. The luminosity of color is too great to be represented with dark paint or lifeless color. And once this fact is recognized, it is a fact which will inevitably influence all kinds of work. What is possible and right at a certain stage of knowledge or recognition may be impossible when other points of view have once been accepted. We seeonly what we look for, and we look for only what we expect to see or are interested to see. You cannot go out-of-doors now and paint as you would have painted a hundred years ago. Then you would have painted what you saw then; but you would not have seen nor looked for things which you cannot help seeing now. For our eyes have been opened to new qualities and new facts, and once the eyes have been opened to them they can never be closed to them again.
Average Observation.—I say we see only what we look for, what we expect to find; anything out of the ordinary is hard to believe at first. In looking at nature the average observer does not even see the obvious. Certain general facts he accepts in the general, but as a rule there is no real recognition of what is there; no perception of the relations of things; no analysis; no realseeing, only a conventional acceptance of a thing as athing. Men look at nature with one idea, and at a picture of nature with an entirely different idea. Nature in the picture is to most people just what they have been accustomed to see in other pictures. They get their idea of how nature looks from those pictures, and if you show them a picture differently conceived they have difficulty in taking it in.
For this reason the "bright picture" does not "look right." I remember being asked by a man in a modern exhibition what I thought of "thesebright pictures." When I asked which pictures he had reference to, I found that he meant the work of a man whose whole aim in painting landscape was, as he once said to me, to get "the just note" in color and value. One would think that the fact that the whole force of an extremely able and sincere mind was directed to that purpose, would produce a picture with at least truth of observation. Yet this was not what my passing acquaintance wanted to see. The picture he liked, which "had some nature in it," as he pointed out to me, was an extremely commonplace landscape with a black tree against a garish sky, reflected in a pool of water. The "bright picture" seemed to me exquisitely gray and quiet, though high in key, and the one with "nature in it," harsh and crude, but conventional; and that was just the point. The average observer wants to see, and does see, in nature what he is accustomed to accept in a picture as nature.
But a painter cannot go on such a basis. He may paint a dark picture, but he must find a subject which is dark to do so. He may not paint daylight with false pitch and false relations, and say he sees it so. With every liberty for personal seeing, there are still certain facts so established and obvious that personality must take them and deal with them, must use them and not ignore them, in its self-expression.
On the Race Track.On the Race Track.Degas.To show relations of pitch and contrast out-doors.
The pitch of daylight is one of these facts. Light and luminosity may not be qualities which appeal to your temperament. You may therefore not make them the main theme of your painting of landscape; but you cannot paint a daylight picture without in some way making it obvious that luminosity is a fundamental characteristic of day light. There is no other quality so universally present and pervasive. In sunlight it is the mostvital quality. You might as well paint water without recognizing the fact that water is wet, as to paint daylight without recognizing the fact that diffused sunlight is brilliant.
A Help.—You will find it very useful as a help in seeing pitch as well as color to have a card with a square hole cut in it to look through at your landscape. Have one side covered with black velvet and the other left white. Compare darks with the black, and the lights with the white, and make the picture compose in the opening as in a frame.
Key and Harmony.—But you should remember that the high key for out-of-door work does not mean crude nor unsympathetic color, neither does it mean that there is nothing but sunshine and shadow. Your picture may be as high as you please in pitch, and yet be harmonious and pleasing. I have seen impressionist pictures of most pronounced type hung in the same room with old pictures and in perfect harmony with them. It means that good color is always good color, and will always be harmonious with other good color, whatever the pitch of either. One picture is simply a different note from the other, that is all. The color in nature is not crude in not being dark. The relations of spots of color are just; you have only to be as just in observing them, and your picture will be harmonious.
Make your notes justall overyour canvas. Have some of them just and the rest false, and of course it will be wrong. Or if you try to make crudity take the place of brilliancy, you will not get harmony. The harmony which comes from the presence in just relation of all the colors is none the less beautiful because more alive. You need not try for the most contrasting and most sparkling qualities of out-of-door color, but you should feel for the out-of-doorness of it.
The space, the breadth, lack of confines, the largeness and movement, vibration and life,—these are the things which the modern painter has discovered in landscape and has emphasized; and this is what has made modern landscape a vital force in modern art. Whatever you do or do not see, feel, and express in your painting, these you must see, feel, and express; for once these qualities are recognized and accepted they are as universal as the law of gravity, and can be as little ignored.
Landscape Drawing.—Landscape is more difficult to draw than is generally thought; not only is the character affected by thescaleof the main masses, but there is great probability of overdrawing. The curves that mark the modelling of the ground are very difficult to give justly. The altitude and slope of mountains are almost invariably exaggerated. The twists and windings of roadways andfences are seldom carefully drawn; yet the most exquisite movement of line is to be gained by just representation of them. To give the character of a tree, too, without making out too much of the detail of it, needs more precise observation than it generally gets.
Willow Road.Willow Road.D. Burleigh Parkhurst.
Get the character; get the sentiment of it. Search for the important things here first, and be more particular about the placing of each line than about the number of lines.
Don't draw too many lines in a landscape;don't draw too many objects. Carefully study the scene before you till you have decided what parts are most essential in giving the character that you want to express, and then draw most carefully those parts. See which are themost expressive linesin it. Get the swing and movement of those lines in the large; then study the more subtle movement of them. Get these things on the canvas first, and put everything else in as subsidiary to them. Have all this well placed before you begin to paint, and allow for little things being painted on to this.
Don't get too many things into one landscape. The spirit of the time and place is what will make the beauty of it, not the details nor the mere facts. This spirit you will find in a few things, not in many. Having found which lines and forms, which masses and relations of color and value, express this, the more carefully you avoid putting in other things the more entirely you emphasize the quality which is the real reason of existence of your picture.
In studying landscape, work for one thing at a time. What has been said of sketching and studies applies here. Landscape is the most bewildering of subjects in its multiplicity of facts and objects and colors and contrasts. If you cannot find a way to simplify it you will neither know where to begin nor where to leave off. Icannot tell you just what to do or not to do, because no two landscapes are alike. Recipes will do nothing in helping you to paint. But there is the general principle which you may follow, and I try to keep it before you even at the risk of over-repetition. In no kind of picture can you drag in unimportant things simply because they exist in nature. In landscape more than elsewhere, because you cannot arrange it, but must select in the actual presence of everything, you must learn to concentrate on the things which mean most, and to refuse to recognize those which will not lend themselves to the central idea.
Selection.—When you select your subject, or "motif," as the French call it, select it for something definite. There is always something which makes you think this particular view will make a good picture. State to yourself what it is that you see in it, not in detail, but in the general. Is it the general color effect of the whole, or a contrast? Is it a sense of largeness and space, or a beautiful combination of line in the track of a road, or row of trees, or a river? Perhaps it is the mass and majesty of a mountain or a group of trees. Something definite or definable catches you—else you had better not do it at all; and what that something is you must know quite precisely, or you will not have a well-understood picture.
When you have distinctly in your mind whatyou want to paint it for, then see that the composition is so placed on your canvas that that characteristic is the main thing in evidence. With this done it is a very easy thing to concentrate on that characteristic, and to leave out whatever tends to break it up or distract from it. This is the only way you can simplify your subject. First by a distinct conception ofwhatyou paint it for, then by so much analysis of the whole field of vision as will show you what does and what does not help in the expression of it.
Detail.—Much detail in landscape is never good painting. Whether big or little, your canvas must express something larger and more important than detail. Give detail when it is needed to express character or to avoid slovenliness. Give as much detailwhere the emphasis liesas will insure the completeness of representation—not a touch more.
Structure.—Have your foreground details well understood in drawing and value. This does not require the drawing of leaf and twig, but it does requirestructure. Everything requires structure.Structure is fundamental to character.If you will not take the trouble to study the character of any least thing you put in, don't put it in at all. Nothing is important enough to put in, if it is not important enough to have its character and its purpose in the picture understood.
I spoke of structure in speaking of the head.If I said nothing but "structure, structure, structure" to the end of the section, you would get the impression of what is the most important thing in drawing. If you will look for and find the line and proportion expressing the anatomy which makes the thing fulfil its particular function in the world, you will understand its character, and that is what is important, everywhere.
Work in Season.—Make your picture in the season which it represents. I don't say that a good summer picture may not be made in winter; but I do say that you are more likely to express the summer quality while the summer is around you. There is too much half painting of pictures, and then leaving them to be "finished up" afterwards.
Of course you can make all your studies and sketches, and then begin and finish the picture from them. If you are careful to have plenty of material, to accumulate all your facts with the intention of working from those facts, all right; but it would be better if you were to work your picture in the season of it, as long as you are a student at least. For until you have had a great deal of experience, you will find when you come to paint your picture that some very much needed material you have neglected to collect, and you cannot safely supply it from memory. If this occurs in the time of year represented in the picture, you can just go out and study it.
Out-of-door Landscapes.—The most important movement in modern art, the most important in its effects on all kinds of work, is what I have mentioned as theplein airmovement. It was thought by some clear-headed men that the best way to paint an out-door picture was to take their canvases out-of-doors to paint it. Instead of working from a few color sketches and many pencil studies, they painted the whole picture from first to last in the open air. Working in this way, certain qualities got into the pictures unavoidably. Necessarily the color was fresher and truer. Necessarily there was more breadth and frankness, and less conventionality and mere picture-making. The spirit of the open got onto the canvas, and the whole type of picture was changed. For the first time out-of-door values were studied as things in themselves interesting and important. The result on landscape pictures was that pictures painted in the studio seemed unreal and insincere, and that men looked and studied less for the making of pictures, and more for what nature had to reveal.
It would be a good thing for you as a student if you would do as these men did whenever you want to do any work at landscape, whether for itself, or for background. If you wish to pose any kind of figure with landscape background, pose and paint your figure out-of-doors. Make sketches asmuch as you please, make studies as much as you please; but make them for the suggestions and knowledge they will give you, and not for material to be used in painting a picture at home. For your picture, start, and go on with, and finish it out-doors; you will get a feeling of freshness and truth in your work which you cannot get any other way. You will also acquire a power of concentration and of selection and rejection in the presence of nature which is of the utmost importance to you.
Impressionism.—It is not possible to speak of landscape andplein airwithout mention of the "Impressionists." You should understand what "impressionism" really is, and what it is not, and what the impressionist stands for. Whether we like it or not, this work is not to be ignored. It has tried for certain things, and has shown that they can be much more justly represented than had before been believed to be possible, and fad or no fad, that result stands.
In the first place, impressionism does not mean "purple and yellow." Any one who says "purple and yellow" and throws the whole thing aside, is a very superficial critic. The purple and yellow are incidental to the impressionist, not essential. It is only one of the ways of handling color by means of which it was found possible to express certain qualities of light.
Before everything else the real impressioniststands for the representation of the personal conception and method as against the traditional. He believes that if a man has anything of his own to say, he must say it in his own way; and that if he cannot find that nature has anything to say to him personally, if nature cannot give him a personal message, if he can only paint by giving another man's ideas and another man's method, then he had better not paint at all; so that whatever he may see to paint, and however he finds a way to express it, the value of it and the truth of it lie in the fact that it ishis, his way of seeing, and his way of expressing,—that it is "personal."
Luminosity.—The impressionist is imbued with the fact that all the light by means of which things are at all visible is luminous—that it vibrates. He does not think that living light can be represented by dead color. He strives to make his color live also. This is the secret of the purple and yellow. By the contrast of these two colors, by the combination and contrast and juxtaposition of the complementary colors and the use of pure pigments, he can make his colors more vibrant, and so give more of the pitch of real sunlight. He actually applies on his canvas the laws which are known to hold with light and color scientifically. He applies practically in his work those laws which the scientist furnishes him withtheoretically. The result in some hands is garish, crude. But the best men have shown that it is possible to use the means so as make a subtle harmony and a luminous brilliancy that have never before been attained. The crudity is the result of the man, not of the method.
The Application.—The application of all this to your own work is that when you want pitch and sunlight you can get it through the observance of the laws of color contrast, and such a laying on of pigment as will bring this about. Try to study the actual contrasts of color, not as they seem, but as they are in nature. Study the facts which have been observed as to colors in their effects on each other, and then try to see these in nature and to paint the results.
The Luminists.—This is the principle of all "loose painting" carried out scientifically. It is the cause of the peculiar technique of those impressionists who paint in streaks and spots of pigment. The manner of putting on paint does interfere with the continuity of outline in the drawing necessarily, but there is a marked gain in the quality of light; and as these men are "luminists," and light is what they want primarily, the sacrifice is justifiable, or at any rate explicable.
Now if you understand the scientific principle, and the practical application and its result on canvas, you have in your hands one of the maininstrumentalities in the rendering of one great quality of out-of-doors. How far you adopt it is a matter for you to decide for yourself. If the complete adoption of it implies too much of a sacrifice of other things of equal or greater value to you, then modify it, or take advantage of it as much as will give you the balance of qualities you most want. There is one way to get light and brilliancy and life into your color: adapt it to your purpose if you need it.
This is the application of color juxtaposition to mixing. The placing of complementaries so as to increase contrast is another way of adding to the brilliancy of light. You will find this most useful when you want to give the greatest possible emphasis to the effect of sunlight and shadow. If you keep your shadows cool, your lights will be the richer and more sparkling because of that contrast. If you want more strength in a note of color, get its complement as near it as you can. Look for their iridescence of edges of shadow, and of the contours of objects. You will get greater relief of light and shade by contrast of warm and cool than contrast of light and dark.
Do not misunderstand me. I am not advising you to be an impressionist. I wish only that you shall see what there is in this way of looking at nature and of representation of certain effects of nature, which will be of use to you in the paintingof landscape. I would have you know what means are at your command, what is possible to accomplish in certain directions, and how it is possible to accomplish it; then I would have you make use of whatever will most directly and completely serve your purpose.
Do not use any color or colors, any method or point of view, because of any advocacy whatsoever. Know first what you want to paint and why. Let nature speak to you. Go out and look at landscape. Study and observe; see the effect which makes you want to paint it, and then use the means and method which seem most entirely adapted to it. Don't ask yourself, nor let any one else ask you, Is this So-and-So's method? or, Does this belong to this or that school? Don't bother about schools or methods at all. Look frankly to see, accept frankly, and then work to render and convey as frankly as you have seen. Be sincere—sincere with yourself and with your painting: then you will surely work at whatever you do from conviction, and not from fad; and whether it makes you paint as an impressionist or not is a very minor matter, because sincerity of purpose is the most important thing in painting, and method of representation one of the least.
Atmosphere.—A universal characteristic of nature will be a fundamental one in landscape. A landscape which you cannot breathe in is not aperfect one. We live and breathe in atmosphere, and the expression of atmosphere will go far to make your landscape true. But atmosphere is not haziness. Neither is it vagueness nor negativeness of color. Truth of color-quality, and justness of relation will do most in getting it. You had better not try for atmosphere as a thing, but as a result. Anything so universal and so indefinite can be expressed by no one thing. If you try to get it by any one means you will miss it. Study, then, the subtlety of color relation and justness of value. Try to be sensitive to the slightest variety of tone, and be satisfied with no least falsity of rendering, and you will find that your picture will not lack atmosphere.
Color of Contour.—An important thing for you to look for and to study is the color of contours. You will not find it easy; not easy even to know what it is that you are looking for. But consider it as a combination of contiguous values and color vibrations, and things will reveal themselves to you.
No form is composed of unvarying color. No combination of color surrounding it lacks variety. All along the edge of forms and objects, of whatever kind, the value and color relation constantly change. The outline is not constant. Here and there it becomes lost from identity of value and color with what surrounds it, and again defines itself. The edge is not sharp. The color raysvibrate across each other. The inevitable variety of tint and value, of definiteness and vagueness, gives a never-ending play of contrasts and blendings. These are qualities which go to the harmonizing of color, to the expression of light, and particularly to the feeling of atmosphere. This constant variety of contrasting edges is the constant movement and play of the visual rays, and the study of it gives life and vibration to the picture, and all the objects represented in it.
Outdoors, particularly when the play of diffused light and the movement of all the objects is continually felt, either through their own elasticity or because of the heat and light waves, this study is most necessary, if you would get the feeling of freedom, space, and air.
Skies.—In the painting of the sky there are several points to be kept in mind. The sky, even on the quietest day, is full of movement. Cloud masses change continually. If there are no clouds there is constant vibration in the blue; constant variety in the plane of color,—a throb of color sensation which is not to be expressed by a dead, flat tint.
Paint the sky loosely. Lay on the color as you will, with a broad, flat brush, or with a loose, smudgy handling; put it on with horizontal strokes, or with criss-cross touches, but never make it a lifeless tone. Have variety in it; keep a pulsationbetween the warm and cool color. You can work in the separate touches of half-mixed color, warm and cool, all through the sky, so that the whole tone will be flat and even, but not dense and dead. So far as the sky is concerned, the atmosphere is essential, and is to be represented not by dense color, but by free, loose, vibrating color.
Clouds.—If you have clouds to paint, do not draw them rigidly. Get the effect of the mass and movement, and the lightness of them. As they constantly change in form, any one form they may assume cannot be characteristic. The type form is what you must get, and the suggestion of the motion and lightness. You can suggest, too, the direction of the wind by the way they mass and sway and flow. The direction of the sun's rays, too, counts in the color of them. The outline of a cloud mass is never hard, never rigid. The pitch and luminosity and subtlety are what give you most of the effect of it.
Study the type of cloud, of course. It is acumulus,cirrus,stratus, or what not. This character is important; but the character lies in the whole body of the cloud form, not in the accidental outlines or the special position of it for the moment.
Sky Composition.—The massing of cloud forms is a very useful factor in the composition of the landscape. The cloud bank or cloud line is capable of giving accent or balance to the picture.As it is not constant in position any more than in form, you can place it with truth to nature pretty nearly always where it will do the most good as an element in the composition. Make use of them, then, and study the forms and the possible phases of them so as to make the best use of them.
Diffused Light.—Much of the characteristic quality of out-door light is the result of the diffusion of light due to both the refraction and the reflection of the sky. The light which bathes the landscape comes in all directions from the sky. Necessarily, then, the sky will be in most cases far higher in value than anything under it. Even the blue of the sky, which looks darker than some bit of light in the landscape, you will find, if you can manage to get them to tell against each other, will be the more luminous of the two, and will look lighter. There are times when the sun glares on a white building or a piece of white sand, when the white tells light against the blue. But these are exceptions, and if we could get a blue paint which would give the intensity of color, and also the brilliancy of the light, even these cases would be most truly represented with the sky as the higher value. It is a case of whether to sacrifice value to color, or the reverse, as we cannot have both.
Sometimes, however, in a storm, the dense darkof the storm sky is really lower in value than some white object against it, especially if there be a bit of sun breaking through on it.
But in general, nevertheless, you should consider the sky as always lighter and more luminous than anything under it.
Three Planes.—It will help you in understanding the way the light falls on landscape to consider everything as in one of three planes, and these planes taking greater or less proportions of light according to the position of the sun with reference to them.
The position of the sun changes from a point immediately over, to a point practically at right angles to all objects in nature. Everything that can exist under the sun will come in one of these planes, and at some time in the day in each. The vertical, the horizontal, or some sort of an oblique between these two. If the sun is overhead exactly, the flat ground, the tops of trees and houses, will get the full amount of sunlight. The vertical planes, sides of houses, depths of foliage, etc., will get the least, some of them being lighted only by diffused and reflected light. The planes lying between these two extremes will get more or less, according as they are more or less at right angles to the direct rays of the sun. And as the sun declines from the zenith, the vertical planes get more and more and the horizontal planes less andless of the light, till in the late afternoon the banks of trees and sides of buildings and cloud-masses are gilded with light, and the broad horizontal plains of land and water are in shadow.
However obscured the sun may be, this principle holds more or less; and it makes clear and helps you to observe and notice many facts in landscape light and shade which it is necessary to know.
Millet said that all the beauty of color and value, and the whole art of painting, rested on the comprehension and observance of these facts.
He said that as the planes of any form turned towards or away from the light and so got more or less of it, and as one form stood more or less far back of another and the atmosphere came between, the color and value changed; and in the observance of this, and its representation as applied to any and every object or group of objects, lay the whole of painting. All the possible beauties of the art rested on it. He showed a painting of a single pear in which these things were most subtly observed, and said that that painting was as complete and perfect as any painting he could do simply because in the observance of these relations was implied the observance of everything which was vital to painting.
Short Sittings.—This characteristic, and the steady change of position of the sun and its effects on all the objects which are directly lightedby it, make it necessary, whenever you are painting from nature out-of-doors, that you should not paint at one thing very long at a time. The light changes pretty rapidly; at high noon it only takes a few moments to exactly reverse the light. It is seldom that you can do any just study for more than an hour or an hour and a half at a sitting. Some men do work two or three hours, but they are not studying justly all that time; for that which was light is dark three hours later, and any true study of value and color is impossible under these conditions. Of course on gray days this is less marked, but you must suit your sittings to the time and facts.
It would be better if you had more canvases, and worked a short time on each, and many days on all. You would have the truest work.
Monet works never more than a half-hour on one canvas; but when he starts out he takes a half-dozen or more different canvases, and paints on each till the light has changed. Theodore Robinson seldom worked more than three-quarters of an hour, or at most an hour, on one canvas; but, he worked for twenty or thirty days on each canvas, and sometimes had a single canvas under way for successive seasons.
Any man who would truly study for the just value and note of color must work more or less in this way when he works out-of-doors.
All that has been said on landscape painting applies to marines. You have the same open-air feeling and vibration of light and color. There is no need to say the same things over again. It is only necessary to take all these things for granted, and emphasize certain other things which are peculiar to the sea.
Sea and Sky.—To begin with, the relation of the sky to what is under it is markedly different in color from any other relations in painting. The sea is always more or less of a perfect reflecting surface, and always strongly influenced in color, value, and key by the reflections of the sky on its surface. The sky color is always modifying the water—when and how depends on the condition of the weather, and the degree of quiet or movement of the water. Sometimes the water is a perfect mirror; sometimes the mirror quality is almost lost, but the influence is there.
This relation is the most important thing, because the sea and the sky is always the main part of your picture; and no matter what else is there,or how well painted it may be, if these things are not recognized, if they are not justly observed, your picture is bad.
I cannot tell you all about these things. The variety of effects and relations is infinite. You must study them, paint them in the presence of nature, and use your eyes; only remember the general principles of air and atmosphere and light and color that I have spoken of elsewhere—all have most vital importance on marine painting. You must study these, and think of them, and in the presence of sea or sky observe their bearings, and apply them as well as you can.
Movement.—If "la nature ne s'arrête pas" ordinarily, the fact is even more marked in marines; for the water is the very type of ceaseless motion. Somehow, you must not only study in spite of the continual motion, but you must manage to make that motion itself felt. This you will find is in the larger modelling of the whole surface—the "heave" of it as distinguished from the waves themselves. The waves are a part of that motion of course; but give the wave-drawing only, without their relation to the great swing of the whole body of water, and you get rigidity rather than movement. The wave movement is in and because of this larger motion. See that first, and make it most evident, then let the waves themselves cut it up and help to express it.