ANALYTICAL TABLES OF COLOUR.
When commencing my studies both in science and art, I found great advantage from reducing all facts to a tabular form so far as possible, and this mode of study I would recommend to others. To me this method appears to have great advantages, for by it we see at a glance what otherwise is difficult to understand; if carefully done, it becomes an analysis of work; and by preparing these tabular arrangements of facts the subject becomes impressed on the mind, and the relation of one fact to another, or of one part of a scheme to another, is seen.
The following analytical tables will illustrate many of the facts stated in our propositions. The figures which follow the colours represent the proportions in which they harmonise:—
This latter table shows at a glance how each of the secondary and tertiary colours is formed, and the proportions in which they harmonise. It also shows why the three tertiary colours are called respectively the yellow tertiary, the red tertiary, and the blue tertiary, for into each tertiary two equivalents[11] of one primary enter, and one equivalent of each of the other primaries. Thus, in citrine we find two equivalents of yellow, and one each of red and blue; hence it is the yellow tertiary. In russet we find two equivalents of red, and one each of blue and of yellow; and in olive two of blue, and one each of red and yellow. Hence they are respectively the red and blue tertiaries.
Figs 24 and 25 are diagrams of harmony. I have connected in the centre, by three similar lines, the colours which form a harmony; thus, blue, red, and yellow harmonise when placed together. Purple, green, and orange also harmonise (I have connected them by dotted lines in the first of the two diagrams). But when two colours are to produce a harmony, the one will be a primary colour, and the other a secondary formed of the other two primary colours (for the presence of the three primary colours is necessary to a harmony), or the one will be a secondary, and the other a tertiary colour formed of the two remaining secondary colours. Such harmonies I have placed opposite to each other; thus blue, a primary, harmonises with orange, a secondary; yellow with purple; and red with green; and the secondary colour is placed between the two primary colours of which it is formed; thus, orange is formed of red and yellow, between which it stands; green, of blue and yellow; and purple, of blue and red. In the second of the two diagrams we see that purple, green, and orange produce a harmony, so do olive, russet, and citrine. We also see that purple and citrine harmonise, and green and russet, and orange and olive.
Continuing this diagrammatic form of illustration, we may set forth the quantities in which the various colours harmonise: thus:—
To those who are about to practise ornamentation, it is very important that they have in the mind's eye a tolerably accurate idea of the relative quantities of the various colours necessary to harmony, even where the colours are considered as existing in a state of absolute purity. We have rarely, however, to use the brightest blues, reds, and yellows which pigments furnish, and even these are but poor representatives of the potent colours of light as seen in the rainbow, and with the agency of the prism; nevertheless, a knowledge of the quantities in which these pure colours harmonise is very desirable. The proportions in which we have stated that colours perfectly harmonise, and in which the primary colours combine to form the secondaries, and the secondaries the tertiaries, are given in respect to the colours of light, and not of pigments or paints, which, as we have just said, are more or less base representatives of the pure colours of light. Yet certain pigments may, for our purpose, be regarded as representing pure colours. Thus, the purest real ultramarine we will regard as blue (cobalt is rather green, that is, it has a little yellow in it, and the French and German ultramarines are generally rather purple, or have a little red in them, yet the best of these latter is a tolerably pure colour), the purest French carmine as red (common carmine is frequently rather crimson, that is, has blue in it; vermilion is much too yellow), and lemon-chrome as yellow (the chrome selected must be without any green shade, and without any orange shade, however slight); and these pigments will be found to represent the colours of the prism as nearly as any that can be found. I would recommend the learner to get a small quantity of these colours in their powder form, substituting the best pale German ultramarine for real ultramarine, as the latter is of high price,[12] and to fill the various circles of our diagrams, which represent the primary colours, with these pigments, mixing them with a little dissolved gum arabic and water—just ufficient to prevent the colours from rubbing off the paper. The secondary colours will be fairly represented by pale-green lake, often called drop-green, by orange-chrome—that of about the colour of a ripe, rather deep-coloured, orange-rind—and the purple by the admixture of pale German ultramarine and crimson-lake, in about equal proportions, with a little white to bring it to the same depth as the green. I cannot name any pigments which would well represent the tertiary colours. Citrine is about the colour of candied lemon-peel; olive about the colour of candied citron-peel, and russet is often seen on the skin of certain apples called "russet apples," in the form of a slight roughness; but this russet is in many cases not quite sufficiently red to represent the colour bearing the same name. Iron rust is rather too yellow. This colour should bear the same relation to red that the candied lemon-peel does to yellow.
If the student will try carefully to realise these colours, and will fill up the circles in our diagrams with them, he will thereby be much assisted in his studies; but it will be still better if he prepare fresh diagrams on a larger scale, and use squares instead of circles. I should recommend, and that I do strongly, that the student work out all the diagrams which I have suggested on a tolerably large scale, using the colours where I have used words. I should also advise him to do an ornament, say in red on a gold ground, and outline this red ornament with a deeper red; to do a gold ornament on a coloured ground, and outline it with black; and indeed to carefully work out an ornamental illustration of our propositions, Nos. 24, 25, 26, and 27, and to keep these before him till he is so impressed by them as to feel the principle which they set forth. This should be done on a large scale in all our designing-rooms and art-workshops.
As we shall have to refer to colours by naming pigments, and as I am constantly asked what pigments I employ, I shall enumerate the paints in my colour-box; but I shall place a dagger against those which I have in my private box, and which I do not supply in my offices; but these I seldom use. Of yellows I have [14]king's yellow (not a permanent colour), [14]very pale chrome, lemon-chrome (about the colour of a ripe lemon), middle-chrome (half-way between the lemon and orange-chrome), orange-chrome (about the colour of the rind of a ripe orange), [14]yellow-lake, [14]Indian yellow. Of reds—vermilion, carmine, crimson-lake. Of blues—[14]cobalt, German ultramarine, both deep and pale, Antwerp blue, indigo. Of greens—emerald, green-lake, pale and deep. Of browns—raw Turkey umber, vandyke, Venetian red, purple-brown, brown-lake. Besides these I have what is called celestial blue, which is a very pure and intense turquoise, vegetable black, flake white, and gold bronze.[13]
There are certain facts connected with the mixing of colours which must never be lost sight of; thus, while the colours of light co-mingle without any deterioration, or loss of brilliancy, pigments or paints will not do so, but by admixture tend to destroy one another. This takes place only to a small extent when but two primary colours are combined; but if any of the third primary enters into the composition of a tint, a decided deterioration, or loss of intensity, occurs.
For this reason we employ many pigments, so as to avoid as far as possible the mixing of colours. But there is another reason why the great admixture of colours is undesirable. Colours are chemical agents, and in some cases the various pigments act chemically on one another. Of all colours yellows suffer most by admixture with other colours: but this is accounted for by their delicacy and purity. For this reason I use a greater variety of yellow pigments than of red or blue.[14]
Were it possible to procure three pigments devoid of chemical affinities, and each of the same physical constitution, as of equal degrees of transparency or opacity, one truly representing the blue of light, another the red, and another the yellow, we should need no others, for of these we could form all other colours; but as no pigments come even near to the fulfilment of these conditions, we have to employ roundabout and clumsy methods of arriving at desired results.
There is one statement which I have made that, perhaps, needs a little elucidation, although the careful student may have seen the reason of my assertion. I said that purple harmonised with citrine, green with russet, and orange with olive. I might have expressed it (and many would have done so) thus:—The complement of citrine is purple, the complement of russet is green, and the complement of olive is orange. A colour which is complementary to any other is that which, with it, completes the presence of the three primary colours: thus green is the complement of red, and red of green, for each, together with the colour to which it is the complement, completes the presence of the three colours. But in order to a harmony, the complement must be made up in certain proportions. Let us now refer to our second diagrammatic table, and we there see that citrine is formed of two equivalents of yellow and only one equivalent of red and of blue. Now, in order to a harmony, each primary should be present in two equivalents, as one is present in this quantity—i.e., the yellow. One equivalent of blue and one of red (both of which are wanting in the citrine) form purple; hence purple is the complement of citrine, or the colour that with it produces a harmony. In russet one equivalent of blue and one of yellow are wanting, and these in combination are green—green, then, is the complement of russet. And in olive one equivalent of red and one of yellow are wanting—red and yellow form orange, hence orange is the complement of olive.
I have spoken of all colours as of full intensity and purity, but we have to deal also with other conditions. All colours may be darkened by black, when shades are produced; or reduced by white, when tints are produced. Besides these alterations in intensity, a portion of one colour may be added to another. Thus, if a small portion of blue be mingled with red, the red becomes a crimson or blue-red; or if a small portion of yellow be added to the red, the latter becomes a scarlet or yellow-red. In like manner, when yellow is in excess in a green, we have a yellow-green; or when blue is in excess, a blue-green; and so with the other colours. Such alterations produce hues of colour.
We now come to the subtleties of harmony. Thus, if we have a yellow-red or scarlet—a red with yellow in it—the green that will harmonise with it will be a blue-green; or if we have a blue-red or crimson—a red with blue in it—the green that will harmonise with it will be a yellow-green. This is obvious, for the following reasons:—Let us suppose a red represented by the equivalent number, five, with one part of blue added to it, thus causing it to be a blue-red or crimson. Were the red pure, there should be eleven parts of green as a complement to the five of red, of which green eight parts would be blue and three yellow; but the blue-red occurs in six parts, one of which is blue—there are, then, but seven parts of blue remaining in the equivalent quantity to combine with the three of yellow, one being already used; hence the green formed is a yellow-green, one of the equivalents of blue necessary to the formation of a true green being already in combination with the red, and thus absent from the green.
The same reasoning will apply to the scarlet-red and blue-green, and, indeed, to all similar cases; but to take the case of the crimson-red and yellow-green, as just given, and carry it a stage further, we might add two parts (out of the eight) of blue to the red, and make it more blue, and then form the complementary green of six parts of blue and three of yellow, and thus make it more yellow. Or we may go further still, and add to the red six of the eight parts of blue, when the admixture would appear as a red-purple rather than as a blue-red, in which case the complementary green—or, rather, green-yellow—would consist of two parts of blue and three of yellow. These facts are diagrammatically expressed in the following:—
In all these cases it will be seen that we have eight parts of blue, five of red, and three of yellow, only the mode of combination varies. This variation may occur to any extent, provided the totals of each be always the equivalent proportions.
These remarks will apply equally to hues of colour, shades, and tints, and to shades and tints of hues.
Care, and a little practice, will enable the learner to arrange colours into a number of degrees of depth, or shades, as they are generally called. (We do not here use the term as signifying pure colours darkened with black.) Ten shades of each colour differing obviously in degree of depth can readily be arranged by the experienced, the ten shades being equidistant from each other as regards depth—that is, shade 3 will be as much darker than shade 2 as shade 2 is darker than shade 1, and so on throughout the whole. Purple is a colour intermediate between blue and red. Imagine ten hues between the purple and the red, and ten more between the purple and the blue: thus we should have purple, then a slightly red purple, then a rather redder purple, then a purple still redder, and so on till we get purple-reds, and finally the pure red; and the same variations of hue at the blue side also. Imagine, further, the green having ten hues extending towards the blue, and ten more stretching towards the yellow; and the orange having ten hues towards the red, and ten towards the yellow—in all cases I count the colour from which we start as one of the ten, thus:—
—and we shall have 54 colours and hues of colour. Of each of these 54 colours and hues imagine 10 degrees of depth, and we get 540 colours, hues, tints, and shades, all differing from one another to an obvious degree.
Mark this fact, that any colour, tint, hue, or shade of such a diagram has its complement in one other of the colours, tints, hues, or shades of the diagram, and that only two of this series of 540 are complementary to each other; thus, if you fix on any one colour of the 540, there is but one colour in the whole that is complementary to it, and it is complementary to but this one other colour.
The student will do well to try and make a colour-diagram of this kind, of a simple character, say such as the following, only using pigments for my numbers; but in doing so he must exercise the utmost care, in order that he secure some degree of accuracy of tint or shade, and if he can call to his aid an experienced colourist it will be of great assistance to him.
This table is highly valuable, as it gives ninety harmonies, if carefully prepared in colour; and the preparation of such a table is the very best practice that a student can possibly have.
Let us for a moment consider this table, and suppose that we want to find the complement to some particular colour, as the third shade of red. We find the complement of this in the third shade of green opposite. If we want the complement of the second shade of orange-yellow, we find it in the second shade of blue-purple opposite, and so on. Thus we have a means of at once judging of the harmony of colours.
It must ever be borne in mind that pigments mixed in the proportions given will not yield results such as would occur when the coloured rays of light are combined; thus three parts, either by weight or measure, of chrome yellow when combined with eight parts of ultramarine would not form a colour representing the secondary green, nor would the result be more satisfactory were other pigments combined in the proportions given. What we have said in respect to the proportions in which colours combine to form new colours applies only to the coloured rays of light.
It must now be noticed that while colours harmonise in the proportions stated, the areas occupied by the different colours may vary if there be a corresponding alteration in intensity. Thus eight of blue and eight of orange form a perfect harmony when both colours are of prismatic intensity; but we shall still have a perfect harmony if the orange is diluted to one-half its strength with white, and thus formed into a tint, provided there be sixteen parts of this orange of half strength to the eight parts of blue of full strength.
The orange might be further diluted to one-third of its full power, but then twenty-four parts would be necessary to a perfect harmony with eight parts of prismatic blue; or to one-fourth of its strength, when thirty-two parts would be necessary to the harmony.
It is not desirable that I occupy space with diagrams of these quantities, but the industrious student will prepare them for himself, and will strive to realise a true half-tint, quarter-tint, etc., which is not a very easy thing to do. By practice, however, it will readily be accomplished, and anything achieved is a new power gained.
What I have said respecting the harmony of blue with tints of orange will apply in all similar cases. Thus red will harmonise with tints of green, provided the area of the tint be increased as the intensity is decreased; and so will yellow harmonise with tints of purple under similar conditions.
But we may reverse the conditions, and lower the primary to a tint retaining the secondary in its intensity. Thus blue, if reduced to a half-tint, will harmonise with orange of prismatic intensity in the proportion of sixteen of blue to eight of orange; or, if reduced to a quarter-tint, in the proportion o£ thirty-two of blue to eight of orange. Red, if reduced to a half-tint, will harmonise in the proportion of ten red to eleven of green; and yellow as a half-tint in the proportion of six yellow to thirteen of purple.
The same remarks might be made respecting the harmony of shades of colour with colours of prismatic intensity. Thus, if orange is diluted to a shade of half intensity with black, it will harmonise with pure blue in the proportion of sixteen of orange to eight of blue, and so on, just as in the case of tints; and this principle applies to the harmony of all hues of colour also.
To go one step further: we scarcely ever deal with pure colours or their shades or tints, or even come as near them as we can. With great intensity of colour we seem to require an ethereal character, such as we have in those of light; but our pigments are coarse and earthy—they are too real-looking, and are not ethereal—they may be said to be corporeal rather than spiritual in character. For this reason we have to avoid the use of our purest pigments in such quantities as render their poverty of nature manifest, and to use for large surfaces such tints as, through their subtlety of composition, interest and please. A tint the composition of which is not apparent is always preferable to one of more obvious formation. Thus we are led to use tints which are subtly formed, and such as please by their newness and bewilder by the intricacy of formation.
To do what I here mean it is not necessary that many pigments be mixed together in order to the formation of a tint. The effect of which I speak can frequently be got by two well-chosen pigments. Thus a fine series of low-toned shades can be produced by mixing together middle-chrome and brown-lake in various proportions, and in all of the shades thus formed the three primary colours will be represented, but in some yellow will predominate, and in others red; while in many it will not be easy to discover to what proportionate extent the three primary colours are present.
Let us suppose that we make a tint by adding white to cobalt blue. This blue contains a small amount of yellow, and is a slightly green blue. But to this tint we add a small amount of raw umber with the view of imparting a greyness[15] or atmospheric character. Raw umber is a neutral colour, leaning slightly to yellow—that is, it consists of red, blue, and yellow, with a slight excess of the latter. In order that an orange harmonise with this grey-blue of a slightly yellow tone, the orange must be slightly inclined to red, so as to form the complement of the little green formed by the yellow in the blue. It may harmonise with the grey-blue as a pure tint if the area of the diluted and neutralised primary is sufficiently extended, or may itself be likewise reduced to a tint of the same depth, when both tints would have the same area.
I might go on multiplying cases of this character to almost any extent, but these I leave the student to work out for himself, and pass to notice that while it is desirable to use subtle tints (often called "broken tints") it is rarely expedient to make up the full harmony by a large area of a tertiary tone and a single positive colour. Thus, we might have a shade or a tint of citrine spreading over a large surface as a ground on which we wished to place a figure. This figure would harmonise in pure purple were it of a certain size, and yet if thus coloured it would give a somewhat common-place effect when finished, for the harmony would be too simple and obvious. It would be much better to have the nineteen parts of citrine reduced, say, to half intensity, when the area would be increased to thirty-eight, with the figure of eight parts of blue and five of red, than of thirteen parts of purple.
But it would be better still if there were the thirty-eight parts of reduced citrine, three parts of pure yellow, thirteen of purple, five of red, and eight of blue, together with white, black, or gold, or all three (these may be added without altering the conditions, as all act as neutrals), for here the harmony is of a more subtle character.
If we count up the equivalents of the colours employed in this scheme of harmony, we shall see that we have, in the citrine—
Yellow6 (two equivalents).
Blue8 (one equivalent).
Red5 (one equivalent).
In the purple—
Blue8 (one equivalent).
Red5 (one equivalent).
Of the pure colours—
Yellow3 (one equivalent).
Red5 (one equivalent).
Blue8 (one equivalent).
Thus we have three equivalents of each primary, which give a perfect harmony.
I must not say more respecting the laws of harmony, for in the space of a small work it is impossible to do so, but proceed to notice certain effects or properties of colours, which I have as yet only alluded to, or have passed altogether unnoticed.
I have said that black, white, and gold are neutral as regards colour. This is the case, although many would suppose that gold was a yellow. Gold will act as a yellow, but it is generally employed as a neutral in decorative work, and it is more of a neutral than a yellow, for both red and blue exist largely in it. The pictorial artist frames his picture with gold because it, being a neutral, does not interfere with the tints of his work. It has the further advantage of being rich and costly in appearance, and thus of giving an impression of worth where it exists.
Black, white, and gold, being neutral, may be advantageously employed to separate colours where separation is necessary or desirable.
Yellow and purple harmonise, but yellow is a light colour and purple is dark. These colours not only harmonise, but also contrast as to depth, the one being light and the other dark. The limit of each colour, wherever these are used in juxtaposition, is therefore obvious.
It is not so with red and green, for these harmonise when of the same depth. This being the case, and red being a glowing colour, if a red object is placed on a green ground, or a green object on a red ground, the "figure" and ground will appear to "swim" together, and will produce a dazzling effect. Colour must assist form, and not confuse it. It will do this in the instance just named if the figure is outlined with black, white, or gold, and there will be no loss of harmony. But experience has shown that this effect can also be averted by outlining the figure with a lighter tint of its own colour. Thus, if the figure is red and the ground green, an outline of lighter red (pink) may be employed. [(See Proposition 26, page 34.)]
A blue figure on a red ground (as ultramarine on carmine), or a red figure on a blue ground, will also produce this swimming and unsatisfactory effect, but this is again obviated by an outline of black, white, or gold.
Employing the outline thus must not be regarded as a means of merely rendering what was actually unpleasant endurable, for it does much more—it affords one of the richest means of effect. A carmine ground well covered with bold green ornament having a gold outline is, if well managed, truly gorgeous; and were the figure blue on the red ground, the lavish use of gold would render the employment of yellow unnecessary as the yellow formed in the eye and cast upon the gold would satisfy all requirements.
It is a curious fact that the eye will create any colour of which there is a deficiency. This it will do, but the colour so created is of little use to the composition unless white or gold is present; if, however, there be white or gold in the composition, the colour which is absent, or is insufficiently represented, will be formed in the eye and cast upon these neutrals, and the white or the gold, as the case may be, will assume the tint of the deficient or absent colour. [(See Propositions 8] and 9, page 32.)
While this occurs (and sometimes it occurs to a marked degree, as can be shown by experiment), it must not be supposed that a composition in which any element is wanting is as perfect as one which reveals no want. It is far otherwise; only Nature here comes to our assistance, and is content to help herself rather than endure our short-comings; but in the one case we give Nature the labour of completing the harmony; while in the other, all being prepared, we receive a sense of satisfaction and repose.
In Proposition 8 we showed that when blue and black are juxtaposed, the black becomes "rusty," or assumes an orange tint; and in Proposition 9 we gave the cause of this effect. Let a blue spot be placed on a black silk necktie, and however black the silk, it will yet appear rusty. This is a fact; but we sometimes desire to employ blue on black, and wish the black to look black, and not an orange-black. How can we do this? Obviously by substituting for the black a very dark blue, as indigo. The bright blue spot induces orange (the complement of blue) in the eye. This orange, when cast upon black, causes the latter to look "rusty;" but if we place in the black an amount of blue sufficient to neutralise the orange cast upon it, the effect will be that of a jet-black.
We have now considered those qualities of colour, and those laws of contrast and harmony, which may be said to be of the grosser sort; but we have scarcely touched on those considerations which pertain to special refinement or tenderness of effect. But let me close the part of my subject of which I have treated, by repeating a statement already made—a statement, let me say, which first led me to perceive really harmony of colour—that those colours, and those particular hues of colour, which improve each other to the utmost, are those which perfectly harmonise. (Consider this statement in connection with [Propositions 8], 9, 10, and 14, pages 32 and 33.)
We come now to consider delicacies and refinements in colour effects, which, although dependent upon the skilful exercise of the laws enunciated, are yet of a character, the power to produce which only results from the consideration of the works of the masters of great art-nations; but of these effects I can say little beyond pointing out what should be studied.
This principle however I cannot pass without notice—namely, that the finest colour effects are those of a rich, mingled, bloomy character.
Imagine a luxuriant garden, the beds in which are filled with a thousand flowers, having all the colours of the rainbow, and imagine these arranged as closely together as will permit of their growth. When viewed from a distance the effect is soft and rich, and full and varied, and is all that is pleasant. This is Nature's colouring. It is our work humbly to strive at producing like beauty with her.
This leads me to notice that primary colours (and secondary colours, also, when of great intensity) should be used chiefly in small masses, together with gold, white, or black.
Visit the Indian Museum at Whitehall,[16] and consider the beautiful Indian shawls and scarves and table-covers; or, if unable to do so, look in the windows of our large drapers in the chief towns, and see the true Indian fabrics,[17] and observe the manner in which small portions of intense reds, blues, yellows, greens, and a score of tertiary tints, are combined with white and black and gold to produce a very miracle of bloom. I know of nothing in the way of colour combination so rich, so beautiful, so gorgeous, and yet so soft, as some of these Indian shawls.
It is curious that we never find a purely Indian work otherwise than in good taste as regards colour harmony. Indian works, in this respect—whether carpets, or shawls, or dress materials, or lacquered boxes, or enamelled weapons—are almost perfect—perfect in harmony, perfect in richness, perfect in the softness of their general effect. How strangely these works contrast with ours, where an harmonious work in colours is scarcely ever seen.
By the co-mingling (not co-mixing) of colours in the manner just described, a rich and bloomy effect can be got, having the general tone of a tertiary colour of any desired hue. Thus, if a wall be covered with little ornamental flowerets, by colouring all alike, and letting each contain two parts of yellow and one part of blue and one of red, as separate and pure colours, the distant hue will be that of citrine: the same effect will result if the flowers are coloured variously, while the same proportions of the primaries are preserved throughout. I can conceive of no decorative effects more subtle, rich, and lovely than those of which I now speak.
Imagine three rooms, all connected by open archways, and all decorated with a thousand flower-like ornaments, and these so coloured, in this mingled manner, that in one room blue predominates, in another red, and in another yellow; we should then have a beautiful tertiary bloom in each—a subtle mingling of colour, an exquisite delicacy and refinement of treatment, a fulness such as always results from a rich mingling of hues, and an amount of detail which would interest when closely inspected; besides which, we should have the harmony of the general effect of the three rooms, the one appearing as olive, another as citrine, and the other as russet.
This mode of decoration has this advantage, that it not only gives richness and beauty, but it also gives purity. If pigments are mixed together they are thereby reduced in intensity, as we have already seen; but if placed side by side, when viewed from a distance the eye will mix them, but they will suffer no diminution of brilliancy.
With the view of cultivating the eye, Eastern works cannot be too carefully studied. The Indian Museum should be the home of all who can avail themselves of the opportunity of study which it affords; and the small Indian department of the South Kensington Museum should not be neglected, small though it is.[18] Chinese works must also be considered, for they likewise supply most valuable examples of colour harmony; and although they do not present such a perfect colour bloom as do the works of India, yet they are never inharmonious, and give clearness and sharpness, together with great brilliancy, in a manner not attempted by the Indians.
The best works of Chinese embroidery are rarely seen in this country; but these are unsurpassed by the productions of any other people. For richness, splendour, and purity of colour, together with a delicious coolness, I know of nothing to equal them.
The works of the Japanese are not to be overlooked, for in certain branches of art they are inimitable, and as colourists they are almost perfect. On the commonest of their lacquer trays we generally have a bit of good colouring, and their coloured pictures are sometimes marvels of harmony.
As to the styles of colouring adopted by the nations referred to, I should say that the Indians produce rich, mingled, bloomy, warm effects—that is, effects in which red and yellow prevail; that the Chinese achieve clearness, repose, and coolness—a form of colouring in which blue and white prevail; and that the Japanese effects are warm, simple, and quiet.
Besides studying the works of India, China, and Japan, study those also of Turkey and Morocco, and even those of Algeria, for here the colouring is much better than with us, although not so good as in the countries first named. No aid to progress must be neglected, and no help must be despised.[19]
With the view of refining the judgment further in respect to colour, get a good colour-top,[20] and study its beautiful effects. See also the "gas tubes" illuminated by electricity, as sold by opticians, and let the prism yield you daily instruction. Soap-bubbles may also be blown, and the beautiful colours seen in them carefully noted. These and any other available means of cultivating the eye should constantly be resorted to, as by such means only can we become great colourists.
As to works on colour, we have the writings of Field, to whom we are indebted for valuable discoveries; of Hay, the decorator, and friend of the late David Roberts, but some of his ideas are wild and Utopian; of Chevreul, whose work will be most useful to the student; and the small catechism of colour by Mr. Redgrave, of the South Kensington Museum, which is excellent. The student will also do well to carefully study the excellent manual of "Colour" by Professor Church, of Cirencester College.