OF ANGULAR COMPOSITION.
That the angular form is one of the best adapted to composition, at least in landscape, is indisputable; the diagonal line dividing the whole into two halves, gives the largest space for the distribution of light and shade, as well as extent for the design.
When the whole composition is placed on one side, a single object—but stronger in colour than the rest—placed at the opposite side, will generally be found sufficient to balance all on the other, however complicated or extensive in its details it may be. ([Plate 1, fig. 1.])
More repose and softness is obtained by uniting the composition with the darker shadows of the clouds, than by opposition.
On the other hand, an harmonious and agreeable whole is often achieved by bringing the line of the clouds in an opposing angle to the line of the landscape, the principal figures being then mostly placed at the opposite side of the mass of the composition.
The first plan embraces an advantageous union of the parts with the greatest breadth that can perhaps be obtained, while the other frequently produces a dexterous effect by the opposition of colour.
A long stretching swamp, a bog, or line of sandy waste, marshes, a broken heath, the distant sea or sand-bank, with nothing but its straight horizon, are the sweetest morsels to good painters; for when nature has done nothing, they must do all; and, with these difficulties to contend with, it is something surprising to see the most broad and beautiful productions result from so barren materials by investing them with the all-controlling powers of chiaroscuro, by a careful inspection of their natural colours, the forms of their lights and shadows, and above all, the shapes and masses of the passing clouds; but variety and simplicity should ever be their leading principle, and grandeur is sure to be the result. Matter, seemingly incapable of form; wide extents of pathless and unbroken sterility, of nakedness and desolation, will become beautiful and masterly arrangements on these conditions: the torn, and ragged, and scattered fragments of the clouds in their wild and rushing fury over the sea, with its inexhaustible changes and endless variety of colour, are the objects painters often choose, from their very seeming nothingness, to invest with the beau ideal of art.
The extremes of simplicity in composition, should not be attempted by Tyros; the long-practiced and master hand alone can accomplish that, which in others, would appear affectation.
The most powerful impressions are produced by the simplest construction. The chief interest confined to a very small portion of the work, and the larger space left in so much repose as will give value to, and dignify the subject, that should at once meet the eye and engage our energies; investing their accessories with their due portion of interest; taking care that the expression of the principal action of the picture is agreeably supported by their subordinate quality; that the object desired is obtained, to the exclusion of all others, and that its episodes be in character.
In the arrangement of figures, Mr. Burnet, in his Hints on Composition, says, 'the heads and hands, the seats of action and expression, are often referred to each other for the completion of form or extension of light, beyond which a strong point is required, as a link of communication between the figures and the background. By making this point the strongest of a secondary group of objects, either from its size, lights, or darks, the eye is carried into the most remote circumstances, which become a part of the whole, from the principal group being made to depend upon such point for the completion of its form, the extension of the light, or the repetition of colour.' Thus, in Vandyke we often see the luminous points of his picture referring to each other in the form of a losenge, composed of the heads and hands, the collar, ruffs, the hilt of a sword, &c., while all the other parts are absorbed in dark or half shade, and making the form of his composition complete, but differing something in their force and attraction: strong light and dark coming in cutting contrast at a single point, places the subordinate lights and darks in their proper situations; at the same time, these points should always be characteristic of meaning to the composition. ([Plate 1, figs. 5], [6].)
Nothing will teach you to compose a picture like sketching, however slightly, the different groups you encounter in walking about; never be without a little book for this purpose, as the merest draught will, when you are composing, apply itself to your picture better than any thing that may be suggested. I have invariably found this the best resource. Take first the exact outline, shape, and position of the figure, and afterwards the expression of what he is doing, carefully noticing the shadowed parts, and dividing them boldly from the light; the half-tints may be blended with comparative ease; therefore make as few lines as possible, never encumbering them. That part of the figure which is foreshortened will have the greater number of folds, while that which is not, will come out plain and bold. Such memoranda will always have a look of reality over every other means of obtaining it.
It is not unfrequently the case that, in the progress of a work, a number of circumstances, partly the result of thought, partly of accident, may occur; therefore, entire reliance on the first sketch is not always to be depended on; at the same time, the various improvements that suggest themselves, do not always interfere with the carrying out our first conceptions, and still securing the same treatment with which we commenced.
A repetition of forms can only be diverted by opposing lines being brought in somewhat strong contrast against them; and, if possible, between their recurrence. ([Plate 2, fig. 1.])
In copying, draw various lines across the original, and the same on the paper the copy is to be made on. Begin with the centre, and draw towards the sides; the objects represented will be neither too large nor too small by this means.
I have said, that variety and intricacy have many charms. In passing over our embellished lands, with all the advantages our country affords in landscape objects, we cannot but observe this infinite variety in the English oak, the birch, the ash, the abele; the magnificent white poplar, with its large and beautiful leaves; the beech, the elm, the stately horse-chestnut, &c.; their great diversity of foliage and bark; their distinct peculiarities of colour and form; the oriental plane, the hazel, sycamore, the maple; especially where the landscape-gardener was never heard of, when the universal and monotonous green of summer gives place to the glowing hues of October and November, the best months of all, from the large portion of pearly grey that pervades all nature at that time, and from which are brought out, as from a background of the softest neutrals, the umbrageous, rich, bitumen-looking browns, deep crimsons, reds, and golden colours of the leaves, &c.