Part 28

It is therefore necessary, “that those parts of round bodies which are seen directly opposite to the spectator, should have the light entire;” and that the extremities turn, in losing themselves insensibly and confusedly, without precipitating the light all on the sudden into the shadow, or the shadow into {275.} the light. But the passage of one into the other, must be common and imperceptible, that is, by degrees of lights into shadows, and of shadows into lights. And it is in conformity to these principles, that you ought to treat a whole group of figures, though it be composed of several parts, in the same {280.} manner as you would do a single head: “or if the wideness of the space, or largeness of the composition, requires, that you should have two groups or three, [*†280.] (which should be the most,) let the lights and shadows be so discreetly managed, [*†283.] that light bodies may have a sufficient mass or breadth of shadow to sustain them, and that dark bodies may {285.} have a sudden light behind to detach them from the ground.

[*†286.] “As in a convex mirror, the collected rays strike stronger and brighter in the middle than upon the natural object, and the vivacity of the colours is increased in the parts full in your sight; [*†290.] while the goings off are more and more broken and faint as they approach to the extremities, in the same manner {290.} bodies are to be raised and rounded.”

Thus the painter and the sculptor are to work with one and the same intention, and with one and the same conduct. For what the sculptor strikes off, and makes round with his tool; the painter performs with his pencil, casting behind that which he makes less visible, by the diminution and breaking {295.} of his colours: “That which is foremost and nearest to the eye, must be so distinctly expressed, as to be sharp, or almost cutting to the sight. Thus shall the colours be disposed upon a plane, which from a proper place and distance will seem so natural {300.} and round, as to make the figures appear so many statues.

[Sidenote: XXXII. Of dark bodies on light grounds.]

“Solid bodies subject to the touch, are not to be {305.} painted transparent; and even when such bodies are placed upon transparent grounds, as upon clouds, waters, air, and the like vacuities, they must be preserved opaque,[142] that their solidity be not destroyed among those light, aërial, transparent species; and must therefore be expressed sharper and rougher than what is next to them, more distinct by a firm light and shadow, and with more solid and {310.} substantial colours; that, on the contrary, the smoother and more transparent may be thrown off to a farther distance.”

[Sidenote: XXXIII. That there must not be two equal lights in a picture.]

We are never to admit two equal lights in the same picture, but the greater light must strike forcibly on the middle; and there extend its greatest clearness on those places of the picture, where the principal figures of it are, and where the {315.} strength of the action is performed; diminishing by degrees as it comes nearer and nearer to the borders; and after the same manner, that the light of the sun languishes insensibly, in its spreading from the east, from whence it begins, towards the west, where it decays and vanishes; so the light of the picture being distributed over all the colours, will become less sensible the farther it is removed {320.} from its original.

The experience of this is evident in those statues, which we see set up in the midst of public places, whose upper parts are more enlightened than the lower; and therefore you are to imitate them in the distribution of your lights.

Avoid strong shadows on the middle of the limbs, lest the great quantity of black which composes those shadows should seem to enter into them, and to cut them: rather take care to place {325.} those shadowings round about them, thereby to heighten the parts; and take such advantageous lights, that after great lights great shadows may succeed. And therefore Titian said, with reason, that he knew no better rule for the distribution of the lights and shadows, than his observations drawn from a [*†329.] bunch of grapes.

[Sidenote: XXXIV. Of white and black.]

[*†330.] Pure, or unmixed white, either draws an object {330.} nearer, or carries it off to farther distance; it draws it nearer with black, and throws it backward without it. [*†332.] But as for pure black, there is nothing which brings the object nearer to the sight.

The light being altered by some colour, never fails to communicate somewhat of that colour to the bodies on which it strikes; and the same effect is performed by the medium of air, through which it passes.

[Sidenote: XXXV. The reflection of colours.]

The bodies which are close together, receive from {335.} each other that colour which is opposite to them; and reflect on each other that, which is naturally and properly their own.

[Sidenote: XXXVI. Union of colours.]

It is also consonant to reason, that the greatest part of those bodies which are under a light, which is extended, and distributed equally through all, should participate of each others colours. The Venetian school having a great regard for that maxim, (which the ancients called the breaking of colours,) in the quantity of figures, with which {340.} they fill their pictures, have always endeavoured the union of colours; for fear, that being too different, they should come to encumber the sight: “therefore they painted each figure with one colour, {345.} or with colours of near affinity, though the habit were of different kinds, distinguishing the upper garment from the under, or from the loose and flowing mantle, by the tints, or degrees, harmonizing and uniting the colours, with whatever was next to them.”

[Sidenote: XXXVII. On the interposition of air.]

The less aërial space which there is betwixt us {350.} and the object, and the more pure the air is, by so much the more the species are preserved and distinguished; and, on the contrary, the more space of air there is, and the less pure it is, so much the more the object is confused and embroiled.

[Sidenote: XXXVIII. The relation of distances.]

Those objects which are placed foremost to the view, ought always to be more finished, than those which are cast behind; and ought to have dominion over those things which are confused and transient. [*†355.] But let this be done relatively, viz. one {355.} thing greater and stronger, casting the less behind, and rendering it less sensible by its opposition.

[Sidenote: XXXIX. Of bodies which are distanced.]

Those things which are removed to a distant view, though they are many, yet ought to make but one mass; as for example, the leaves on the trees, and the billows in the sea.

[Sidenote: XL. Of bodies which are contiguous, and of those which are separated.]

Let not the objects which ought to be contiguous {360.} be separated; and let those which ought to be separated, be apparently so to us; but let this be done by a small and pleasing difference.

[Sidenote: XLI. Contrary extremities to be avoided.]

[*†361.] Let two contrary extremities never touch each other, either in colour or in light; but let there always be a medium partaking both of the one and of the other.

[Sidenote: XLII. Diversity of tints and colours.]

Let the bodies every where be of different tints and colours; that those which are behind may be tied in friendship together; and that those which are foremost may be strong and lively.

[Sidenote: XLIII. The choice of light.]

[*†365.] It is labour in vain to paint a high-noon, or {365.} mid-day light, in your picture; because we have no colours which can sufficiently express it; but it is better counsel, to choose a weaker light; such as is that of the evening with which the fields are gilded by the sun; or a morning light, whose whiteness is allayed; or that which appears after a shower of rain, which the sun gives us through the breaking of a cloud; or during thunder, when the clouds {370.} hide him from our view, and make the light of a fiery colour.

[Sidenote: XLIV. Of certain things relating to the practical part.]

Smooth bodies, such as crystals, polished metals, wood, bones, and stones; those which are covered with hair, as skins, the beard, or the hair of the head; as also feathers, silks, and the eyes, which are of a watery nature; and those which are liquid, as waters, and those corporeal species, {375.} which we see reflected by them; and in fine, all that which touches them, or is near them, ought to be “carefully painted flat, in flowing colours; then touched up with sprightly lights, and the true lines of the drawing restored, which were lost, or confused, in working the colours together.”

[Sidenote: XLV. The field, or ground of the picture.]

[*†378.] Let the field, or ground of the picture, be pleasant, free, transient, light, and well united with colours, which are of a friendly nature to each other; and of such a mixture, as there may be {380.} something in it of every colour that composes your work, as it were the contents of your palette. “And let those bodies that are back in the ground be painted with colours allied to those of the ground itself.”

[Sidenote: XLVI. Of the vivacity of colours.]

[*†382.] Let your colours be lively, and yet not look (according to the painters’ proverb) as if they had been rubbed or sprinkled with meal; that is to say, let them not be pale.

[*†383.] Let the parts which are nearest to us, and most raised, be strongly coloured, and as it were sparkling; and let those parts which are more remote from sight, and towards the borders, be more faintly touched.

[Sidenote: XLVII. Of shadows.]

[*†385.] Let there be so much harmony, or consent, in {385.} the masses of the picture, that all the shadowings may appear as if they were but one.

[Sidenote: XLVIII. The picture to be of one piece.]

[*†386.] “Let the whole picture be of one piece, as if it were painted from one palette.”

[Sidenote: XLIX. The looking-glass the painter’s best master.]

[*†387.] The looking-glass will instruct you in many beauties, which you may observe from nature; so will also those objects which are seen in an evening in a large prospect.

[Sidenote: L. An half figure, or a whole one, before others.]

If there be a half figure, or a whole one, to be set before the other figures, and placed nearer to the view, and next the light; or if it is to be painted in a great place, though at a distance from the eye; be sure on these occasions not to be sparing of great {390.} lights, the most lively colours, nor the strongest shadows.

[Sidenote: LI. A portrait.]

[*†393.] As for a portrait, or pictures by the life, you are to work precisely after nature, and to express what she shows you, working at the same time on those parts which are resembling to each {395.} other: as for example, the eyes, the cheeks, the nostrils, and the lips: so that you are to touch the one, as soon as you have given a stroke of the pencil to the other, lest the interruption of time cause you to lose the idea of one part, which nature has produced to resemble the other; and thus imitating feature for feature, with a just and harmonious composition of the lights and shadows, and of the colours; and giving to the picture that liveliness, which the freedom and force of the pencil make appear, it may seem, the living hand of nature.

[Sidenote: LII. The place of the picture.]

The works which are painted to be seen near, in little or narrow places, must be very tender and well united with tints and colours; “let those which are to be seen at a distance, be varied with fiercer colours and stronger tints.

“Very large figures must have room enough, {400.} and strong, or rather fierce colouring.”

[Sidenote: LIII. Large lights.]

[*†403.] You are to “take the utmost care, that broad lights may be joined to a like breadth of shadows.”

[Sidenote: LIV. What lights are requisite.]

If the picture be set in a place which receives but little light, the colours must be very clear; as, on the contrary, very brown, if the place be {405.} strongly enlightened, or in the open air.

[Sidenote: LV. Things which are vicious in painting to be avoided.]

Remember to avoid objects which are full of hollows, broken in pieces, little, and which are separated, or in parcels; shun also those things which are barbarous, shocking to the eye, and party-coloured, and which are all of an equal force of light and shadow; as also all things which are obscene, {410.} impudent, filthy, unseemly, cruel, fantastical, poor, and wretched; and those things which are sharp to the feeling; in short, all things which corrupt their natural forms, by a confusion of their parts which are entangled in each other: “For the eyes have a horror for those things, which the hands will not condescend to touch.”

[Sidenote: LVI. The prudential part of a painter.]

But while you endeavour to avoid one vice, be cautious lest you fall into another; for “extremes are always vicious.” {415.}

[Sidenote: LVII. The idea of a beautiful piece.]

[Sidenote: LVIII. Advice to a young painter.]

Those things which are beautiful in the utmost degree of perfection, according to the axiom of ancient painters, [*†417.] ought to have somewhat of greatness in them, and their outlines to be noble; they must be disentangled, pure, and without alteration, clean, and knit together; composed of great parts, yet those but few in number. In fine, distinguished by bold colours; but of such as are related and {420.} friendly to each other. And as it is a common saying, that “he who has begun well, has already performed half his work;” [*†422.] so there is nothing more pernicious to a youth who is yet in the elements of painting, than to engage himself under the discipline of an ignorant master; who depraves his taste, by an infinite number of mistakes, of which his wretched works are full and thereby {425.} makes him drink the poison, which infects him through all his future life.

Let him, who is yet but a beginner, not make so much haste to study after nature, every thing which he intends to imitate, as not in the mean time to learn proportions, the connection of the joints, and their outlines: and let him first have {430.} well examined the excellent originals, and have thoroughly studied all the pleasing deceptions of his art; which he must be rather taught by a knowing master, than by practice; and by seeing him perform, without being contented only to hear him speak.

[Sidenote: LIX. Art must be subservient to the painter.]

[*†433.] Search whatsoever is aiding to your art, and convenient; and avoid those things which are repugnant to it.

[Sidenote: LX. Diversity and facility are pleasing.]

[*†434.] Bodies of divers natures, which are aggrouped (or combined) together, are agreeable and pleasant to the sight; [*†435.] as also those things which seem to be slightly touched, and performed with ease; because {435.} they are ever full of spirit, and appear to be animated with a kind of celestial fire. But we are not able to compass these things with facility, till we have for a long time weighed them in our judgment, and thoroughly considered them: by this means the painter shall be enabled to conceal the pains and study which his art and work have cost him, under a pleasing sort of deceit; for the greatest secret which belongs to art, is to hide it from the discovery of spectators.

[Sidenote: LXI. The original must be in the head, and the copy on the cloth.]

Never give the least touch with your pencil, till {440.} you have well examined your design, and have settled your outlines; [*†442.] nor till you have present in your mind a perfect idea of your work.

[Sidenote: LXII. The compass to be in the eyes.]

[*†443.] Let the eye be satisfied in the first place, even against and above all other reasons, which beget difficulties in your art, which of itself suffers none; and let the compass be rather in your eyes, than in your hands.

[Sidenote: LXIII. Pride an enemy to good painting.]

[*†445.] Profit yourself by the counsels of the knowing; {445.} and do not arrogantly disdain to learn the opinion of every man concerning your work. All men are blind as to their own productions, and no man is capable of judging in his own cause. [*†449.] But if you have no knowing friend to assist you with his advice, yet {450.} length of time will never fail; it is but letting some weeks pass over your head, or at least some days, without looking on your work; and that intermission will faithfully discover to you the faults and beauties. Yet suffer not yourself to be carried away by the opinions of the vulgar, who often speak without knowledge; neither give up yourself altogether to them, and abandon wholly your own genius, so as lightly to change that which you have made; for he who has a windy head, and flatters himself with the empty hope of deserving the praise of the common people, (whose opinions are inconsiderate and changeable,) does but injure himself, and pleases no man.

[Sidenote: LXIV. Know yourself.]

Since every painter paints himself in his own {455.} works, (so much is nature accustomed to produce her own likeness,) it is advantageous to him to know himself; [*†458.] to the end that he may cultivate those talents which make his genius, and not unprofitably lose his time, in endeavouring to gain that, which she has refused {460.} him. As neither fruits have the taste, nor flowers the beauty which is natural to them, when they are transplanted into an unkindly or foreign soil, and are forced to bear before their season, by an artificial heat; so it is in vain for the painter to sweat over his works, in spite of nature and of genius; for without them, it is impossible for him to succeed.

[Sidenote: LXV. Perpetually practise, and do easily what you have conceived.]

[*†464.] While you meditate on these truths, and observe them diligently, by making necessary reflections on them; let the labour of the hand accompany the study of the brain; let the former second and support the latter; yet without blunting the {465.} sharpness of your genius, and abating of its vigour by too much assiduity.

[Sidenote: LXVI. The morning most proper for work.]

[*†466.] The morning is the best and most proper part of the day for your business; employ it therefore in the study and exercise of those things which require the greatest pains and application.

[Sidenote: LXVII. Every day do something.]

[*†468.] Let no day pass over you, without a line.

[Sidenote: LXVIII. The passions which are true and natural.]

Observe, as you walk the streets, the airs of heads; the natural postures and expressions; which are always {470.} the most free, the less they seem to be observed.

[Sidenote: LXIX. Of table-books.]

[*†473.] Be ready to put into your table-book (which you must always carry about you) whatsoever you judge worthy of it: whether it be upon the earth, or in the air, or upon the waters, while the species of them is yet fresh in your imagination.

[*†475.] Wine and good cheer are no great friends to {475.} painting; they serve only to recreate the mind, when it is opprest and spent with labour; then indeed it is proper to renew your vigour by the conversation of your friends. Neither is a true painter naturally pleased with the fatigue of business, and particularly of the law, [*†478.] but delights in the liberty which belongs to the bachelor’s estate. [*†480.] Painting naturally withdraws from noise and tumult, and pleases itself in the enjoyment of a country retirement; because silence and solitude set an edge {480.} upon the genius, and cause a greater application to work and study; and also serve to produce the ideas, which, so conceived, will be always present in the mind, even to the finishing of the work; the whole compass of which, the painter can at that time more commodiously form to himself, than at any other.

[*†484.] Let not the covetous design of growing rich, {485.} induce you to ruin your reputation, but rather satisfy yourself with a moderate fortune; and let your thoughts be wholly taken up with acquiring to yourself a glorious name, which can never perish, but with the world; and make that the recompense of your worthy labours.

[*†487.] The qualities requisite to form an excellent painter, are, a true discerning judgment, a mind which is docible, a noble heart, a sublime sense of things, and fervour of soul; after which follow, health of body, a convenient share of fortune, the {490.} flower of youth, diligence, an affection for the art, and to be bred under the discipline of a knowing master.

And remember, that whatsoever your subject be, whether of your own choice, or what chance or good fortune shall put into your hand, if you have not that genius, or natural inclination, which your art requires, you shall never arrive to perfection in it, even with all those great advantages which I have mentioned. For the wit and the manual operation are things vastly distant from each other. It is the influence of your stars, and the happiness of your genius, to which you must be obliged for the greatest beauties of your art.

Nay, even your excellencies sometimes will not {495.} pass for such in the opinion of the learned, but only as things which have less of error in them; for no man sees his own failings; [*†496.] and life is so short, that it is not sufficient for so long an art. Our strength fails us in our old age, when we begin to know somewhat; age oppresses us by the same degrees that it instructs us; and permits not, that our mortal members, which are frozen with our years, should retain the vigour and spirits of our youth.

[Sidenote: LXX. The method of studies for a young painter.]