CHAPTER III.
ARTISTIC ILLUSTRATIONS.
N referring now to more artistic illustrations, we should notice first, some of the changes which have taken place (since the meeting referred to in the last chapter), and, bridging over a distance of nearly twenty years, consider the work of the illustrator, the photographer, and the maker of process blocks, as presented in books and newspapers in 1894; speaking principally of topical illustrations, on which so many thousand people are now engaged.
It may seem strange at first sight to include “newspapers” in a chapter on art illustrations, but the fact is that the weekly newspapers, with their new appliances for printing, and in consequence of the cheapness of good paper, are now competing with books and magazines in the production of illustrations which a few years ago were only to be found in books. The illustrated newspaper is one of the great employers of labour in this field and distributor of the work of the artist in black and white, and in this connection must by no means be ignored. The Post-office carries a volume of 164 pages (each 22 by 16 inches), weighing from two to three pounds, for a half-penny. It is called a “weekly newspaper,” but it contains, sometimes, 100 illustrations, and competes seriously with the production of illustrated books.
Further on we shall see how the illustrations of one number of a weekly newspaper are produced—what part the original artist has in it, what part the engraver and the photographer. These are things with which all students should be acquainted.
The first stage of illustration, where little more than a plan or elevation of a building is aimed at (as suggested in the last chapter), and where an author, with little artistic knowledge, is yet enabled to explain himself, is comparatively easy; it is when we approach the hazardous domain of art that the real difficulties begin.
As matters stand at present, it is scarcely too much to say that the majority of art students and the younger school of draughtsmen in this country are “all abroad” in the matter of drawing for the press, lacking, not industry, not capacity, but method. That they do good work in abundance is not denied, but it is not exactly the kind of work required—in short, they are not taught at the outset the value of a line. That greater skill and certainty of drawing can be attained by our younger draughtsmen is unquestionable, and, bearing in mind that nearly every book and newspaper in the future will be illustrated, the importance of study in this direction is much greater than may appear at first sight.
No. IV.
“Tiresome Dog,” by E. K. Johnson.
This example of pen-and-ink work has been reproduced by the gelatine relief process. The drawing, which has been greatly reduced in reproduction, was made by Mr. Johnson for an Illustrated Catalogue of the Royal Water-Colour Society, of which he is a member.
It is instructive as showing the possibilities and limitations of relief process-work in good hands. The gradation of tone is all obtained in pure black, or dotted lines. Mr. Dawson has aided the effect by “rouletting” on the block on the more delicate parts; but most of the examples in this book are untouched by the engraver.
(See Appendix.)
“FRUSTRATED.” (FROM THE PAINTING BY WALTER HUNT.)
(Royal Academy, 1891.)
Referring to the evident want of training amongst our younger draughtsmen, the question was put very bluntly in the Athenæum some years ago, thus:—
Why is not drawing in line with pen and ink taught in our own Government schools of art? The present system in schools seems to render the art of drawing of as little use to the student as possible, for he has no sooner mastered the preliminary stage of drawing in outline from the flat with a lead pencil, than he has chalk put into his hand, a material which he will seldom or never use in turning his knowledge of drawing to practical account. The readier method of pen and ink would be of great service as a preparatory stage to wood drawing, but unfortunately drawing is taught in most cases as though the student intended only to become a painter.
Since these lines were written, efforts have been made in some schools of art to give special training for illustrators, and instruction is also given in wood engraving, which every draughtsman should learn; but up to the present time there has been no systematic teaching in drawing applicable to the various processes, for the reason that the majority of art masters do not understand them.
“ON THE RIVIERA.” (ELLEN MONTALBA.)
The art of expression in line, or of expressing the effect of a picture or a landscape from Nature in a few leading lines (not necessarily outline) is little understood in this country; and if such study, as the Athenæum pointed out, is important for the wood draughtsman, how much more so in drawing for reproduction by photo-mechanical means? A few artists have the gift of expressing themselves in line, but the majority are strangely ignorant of the principles of this art and of the simple fac-simile processes by which drawing can now be reproduced. In the course of twenty years of editing the Academy Notes, some strange facts have come to the writer’s notice as to the powerlessness of some painters to express the motif of a picture in a few lines; also as to how far we are behind our continental neighbours in this respect.
“A LIGHT OF LAUGHING FLOWERS ALONG THE GRASS IS SPREAD.” (M. RIDLEY CORBET.)
No. V.
H. S. Marks.
An example of line drawing and “the art of leaving out,” by the well-known Royal Academician.
Mr. Marks and Sir John Gilbert (see frontispiece) were the first painters to explain the composition and leading lines of their pictures in the Academy Notes in 1876. Mr. Marks suggests light and shade and the character of his picture in a few skilful lines. Sir John Gilbert’s pen-and-ink drawing is also full of force and individuality. These drawings reproduce well by any of the processes.
“A SELECT COMMITTEE.” (FROM THE PAINTING BY H. S. MARKS, R.A.)
(Royal Academy, 1891.)
It is interesting to note here the firmness of line and clearness of reproduction by the common process block; the result being more satisfactory than many drawings by professional illustrators. The reason is not far to seek; the painter knows his picture and how to give the effect of it in black and white, in a few lines; and, in the case of Mr. Corbet and Miss Montalba, they have made themselves acquainted with the best way of drawing for the Press. There are many other methods than pen-and-ink which draughtsmen use,—pencil, chalk, wash, grained paper, &c, but first as to line drawing, because it is the only means by which certain results can be obtained, and it is the one which, for practical reasons, should be first mastered. Line drawings are now reproduced on zinc blocks fitted for the type press at a cost of less than sixpence the square inch for large blocks; the processes of reproduction will be explained further on.
It cannot be sufficiently borne in mind—I am speaking now to students who are not intimate with the subject—that to produce with pure black lines the quality and effect of lines in which there is some gradation of tone, is no easy matter, especially to those accustomed to the wood engraver as the interpreter of their work. Sir John Tenniel, M. du Maurier, and Mr. Sambourne, not to mention others on the Punch staff, have been accustomed to draw for wood engraving, and would probably still prefer this method to any other.
“THE ROSE QUEEN.” (G. D. LESLIE, R.A.)
(From “Academy Notes,” 1893.)
But the young illustrator has to learn the newer methods, and how to get his effects through direct photo-engraving. What may be done by process is demonstrated in the line drawings interspersed through these pages, also in the illustrations which are appearing every day in our newspapers, magazines, and books—especially those which are well printed and on good paper. Mr. George Leslie’s pretty line drawing from his picture, on the opposite page, is full of suggestion for illustrative purposes.
But let us glance first at the ordinary hand-book teaching, and see how far it is useful to the illustrator of to-day. The rules laid down as to the methods of line work, the direction of lines for the expression of certain textures, “cross-hatching,” &c., are, if followed too closely, apt to lead to hardness and mannerism in the young artist, which he will with difficulty shake off. On these points, Mr. Robertson, the well-known painter and etcher, writing seven years ago, says well:—
“The mental properties of every line drawn with pen and ink should be original and personal ... this strong point is sure to be attained unconsciously, if an artist’s work is simple and sincere, and not the imitation of another man’s style.”[7]
When the question arises as to what examples a beginner should copy who wishes to practise the art of pen-and-ink drawing, the difficulty will be to select from the great and varied stores of material that are everywhere to his hand. All steel and copper-plate engravings that have been executed in line, and all wood engravings, are within the possible range of pen-and-ink drawing. I hold, however, that much time should not be occupied in the imitatative copying of prints: only, indeed, so much as enables the student to learn with what arrangement of lines the different textures and qualities of objects may be best rendered.
There are, roughly, two methods of obtaining effect with a pen—one by few lines, laid slowly, and the other by many lines, drawn with rapidity. If the intention is to see what effect may be obtained with comparatively few lines deliberately drawn, we may refer to the woodcuts after Albert Dürer and Holbein, and the line engraving of Marc Antonio. The engraved plates by Dürer furnish excellent examples of work, with more and finer lines than his woodcuts [but many of the latter were not done by his hand]. “Some of the etchings of Rembrandt are examples of what may be fairly reproduced in pen and ink, but in them we find the effect to depend upon innumerable lines in all directions. In the matter of landscape the etched plates by Claude and Ruysdael are good examples for study, and in animal life the work of Paul Potter and Dujardin.”
Thus, for style, for mastery of effect and management of line, we must go back to the old masters; to work produced generally in a reposeful life, to which the younger generation are strangers. But the mere copying of other men’s lines is of little avail without mastering the principles of the art of line drawing. The skilful copies, the fac-similes of engravings and etchings drawn in pen and ink, which are the admiration of the young artist’s friends, are of little or no value in deciding the aptitude of the student. The following words are worth placing on the walls of every art school:—
“Proficiency in copying engravings in fac-simile, far from suggesting promise of distinction in the profession of art, plainly marks a tendency to mechanical pursuits, and is not likely to be acquired by anyone with much instinctive feeling for the arts of design.” There is much truth and insight in this remark.
“THE FINDING OF THE INFANT ST. GEORGE.” (CHARLES M. GERE.
(From his painting in the New Gallery, 1893.)
In line work, as now understood, we are going back, in a measure, to the point of view of the missal writer and the illuminator, who, with no thought of the possibilities of reproduction, produced many of his decorative pages by management of line alone (I refer to the parts of his work in which the effect was produced by black and white). No amount of patience, thought, and labour was spared for this one copy. What would he have said if told that in centuries to come this line work would be revived in its integrity, with the possibility of the artist’s own lines being reproduced 100,000 times, at the rate of several thousand an hour. And what would he have thought if told that, out of thousands of students in centuries to come, a few, a very few only, could produce a decorative page; and that few could be brought to realise that a work which was to be repeated, say a thousand times, was worthy of as much attention as his ancestors gave to a single copy!
On the principle that “everything worth doing is worth doing well,” and on the assumption that the processes in common use—[I purposely omit mention here of the older systems of drawing on transfer paper, and drawing on waxed plates, without the aid of photography, which have been dealt with in previous books]—are worth all the care and artistic knowledge which can be bestowed upon them, we would press, upon young artists especially, the importance of study and experiment in this direction. As there is no question that “the handwork of the artist” can be seen more clearly through mechanical engraving than through wood engraving, it behoves him to do his best. And as we are substituting process blocks for wood engraving in every direction, so we should take over some of the patience and care which were formerly given to book illustrations.
We cannot live, easily, in the “cloistered silence of the past,” but we can emulate the deliberate and thoughtful work of Mantegna, of Holbein, of Albert Dürer, and the great men of the past, who, if they were alive to-day, would undoubtedly have preferred drawing for process to the labour of etching and engraving; and, if their work were to be reproduced by others, they would have perceived, what it does not require much insight in us to realise, that the individuality of the artist is better preserved, by making his own lines.
To do this successfully in these days, the artist must give his best and most deliberate (instead of his hurried and careless) drawings to the processes; founding his style, to a limited extent it may be, on old work, but preserving his own individuality.
But we must not slavishly copy sketches by the old masters, which were never intended for reproduction. We may learn from the study of them the power of line to express character, action, and effect, we may learn composition sometimes, but not often from a sketch.
“A PLOUGHBOY.” (G. CLAUSEN.)
As to copying the work of living artists, it should be remembered that the manner and the method of a line drawing is each artist’s property, and the repetition of it by others is injurious to him. It would be an easy method indeed if the young artist, fresh from the schools, could, in a few weeks, imitate the mannerism, say of Sir John Gilbert, whose style is founded upon the labour of 50 years. There is no such royal road.
No. VI.
“A Ploughboy,” by George Clausen.
An excellent example of sketching in line. The original drawing was 7¾ × 5¾ in. I have reproduced Mr. Clausen’s artistic sketch of his picture in two sizes in order to compare results. The small block on page 59 (printed in Grosvenor Notes, 1888) appears to be the most suitable reduction for this drawing. The results are worth comparing by anyone studying process work. The first block was made by the gelatine process; the one opposite by the ordinary zinc process. (See Appendix.)
To return to illustration. The education of the illustrator in these days means much more than mere art training. The tendency of editors of magazines and newspapers is to employ those who can write as well as draw. This may not be a very hopeful sign from an art point of view, but it is a condition of things which we have to face. Much as we may desire to see a good artist and a good raconteur in one man, the combination will always be rare; those editors who seek for it are often tempted to accept inferior art for the sake of the story. I mention this as one of the influences affecting the quality of illustrations of an ephemeral or topical kind, which should not be overlooked.
In sketches of society the education and standing of the artist has much to do with his success. M. du Maurier’s work in Punch may be taken as an example of what I mean, combining excellent art with knowledge of society. His clever followers and imitators lack something which cannot be learned in an art school.
It should be understood that, in drawing for reproduction by any of the mechanical processes (either in wash or in line, but especially the latter), there is more strain on the artist than when his work was engraved on wood, and the knowledge of this has left drawing for process principally in the hands of the younger men. They will be older by the end of the century, but not as old then as some of our best and experienced illustrators who keep to wood engraving.
No. VII.
“Blowing Bubbles,” by C. E. Wilson.
This is an excellent example of drawing—and of treatment of textures and surfaces—for process reproduction. The few pen touches on the drapery have come out with great fidelity, the double lines marking the paving stones being the only part giving any trouble to the maker of the gelatine relief block. The skilful management of the parts in light shows again “the art of leaving out.”
I am touching now upon a difficult and delicate part of the subject, and must endeavour to make my meaning clear. The illustrations in Punch have, until lately, all been engraved on wood (the elder artists on the staff not taking kindly to the processes), and the style and manner of line we see in its pages is due in great measure to the influence of the wood engraver.[8]
This refers to fac-simile work, but the engraver, as we know, also interprets wash into clean lines, helps out the timid and often unsteady draughtsman, and in little matters puts his drawing right.
The wood engraver was apprenticed to his art, and after long and laborious teaching, mastered the mechanical difficulties. If he had the artistic sense he soon developed into a master-engraver and illustrator, and from crude and often weak and inartistic drawings produced illustrations full of tone, quality, and beauty. From very slight material handed to him by the publisher, the wood engraver would evolve (from his inner consciousness, so to speak) an elaborate and graceful series of illustrations, drawn on the wood block by artists in his own employ, who had special training, and knew exactly how to produce the effects required. The system often involved much care and research for details of costume, architecture, and the like, and, if not very high art, was at least well paid for, and appreciated by the public. I am speaking of the average illustrated book, say of twenty years ago, when it was not an uncommon thing to spend £500 or £600 on the engravings. Let us hope that the highest kind of wood engraving will always find a home in England.
Nobody knows—nobody ever will know—how much the engraver has done for the artist in years past. “For good or evil,”—it may be said; but I am thinking now only of the good, of occasions when the engraver has had to interpret the artist’s meaning, and sometimes, it must be confessed, to come to the rescue and perfect imperfect work.
No. VIII.
Illustration to “Dreamland in History,” by Dr. Gloucester. (London: Isbister & Co.) Drawn by Herbert Railton.
Example of brilliancy and simplicity of treatment in line drawing for process. There is no illustration in this book which shows better the scope and variety of common process work. Mr. Railton has studied his process, and brought to it a knowledge of architecture and sense of the picturesque. This illustration is reduced considerably from the original drawing.
The artist who draws for reproduction by chemical and mechanical means is thrown upon his own resources. He cannot say to the acid, “Make these lines a little sharper,” or to the sun’s rays, “Give a little more light”; and so—as we cannot often have good wood engraving, as it is not always cheap enough or rapid enough for our needs—we draw on paper what we want reproduced, and resort to one of the photographic processes described in this book.
“BY UNFREQUENTED WAYS.” (W. H. GORE.)
I do not think the modern illustrator realises how much depends upon him in taking the place, so to speak, of the wood engraver. The interpretation of tone into line fitted for the type press, to which the wood engraver gave a lifetime, will devolve more and more upon him. We cannot keep this too continually in mind, for in spite of the limitations in mechanically-produced blocks (as compared with wood engraving) in obtaining delicate effects of tone in line, much can be done in which the engraver has no part.
“THE LOWING HERD WINDS SLOWLY O’ER THE LEA.” (W H. GORE.)
I purposely place these two pen-and-ink drawings by Mr. Gore side by side, to show what delicacy of line and tone may be obtained on a relief block by proper treatment. One could hardly point to better examples of pure line. They were drawn on ordinary cardboard (the one above, 4¼ × 9¾ in.) and reproduced by the gelatine relief process.
All this, it will be observed, points to a more delicate and intelligent use of the process block than is generally allowed, to something, in short very different to the thin sketchy outlines and scribbles which are considered the proper style for the “pen-and-ink artist.”
But “the values” are scarcely ever considered in this connection. Mr. Hamerton makes a curious error in his Graphic Arts, where he advocates the use of the “black blot in pen drawing,” arguing that as we use liberally white paper to express air and various degrees of light, so we may use masses of solid black to represent many gradations of darkness. A little reflection will convince anyone that this is no argument at all.
Mr. Ruskin’s advice in his Elements of Drawing, as to how to lay flat tints by means of pure black lines (although written many years ago, and before mechanical processes of reproduction were in vogue) is singularly applicable and useful to the student of to-day; especially where he reminds him that, “if you cannot gradate well with pure black lines, you will never do so with pale ones.”
To “gradate well with pure black lines” is, so to speak, the whole art and mystery of drawing for the photo-zinc process, of which one London firm alone turns out more than a thousand blocks a week.
As to the amount of reduction that a drawing will bear in reproduction, it cannot be sufficiently widely known, that in spite of rules laid down, there is no rule about it.
“ADVERSITY.” (FRED. HALL.)
It is interesting to compare this reproduction with the larger one overleaf. There is no limit to the experiments which may be made in reduction, if pursued on scientific principles.
No. IX.
“Adversity,” by Fred. Hall.
This fine drawing was made in pen and ink by Mr. Hall, from his picture in the Royal Academy, 1889. Size of original 14½ × 11½ in. Reproduced by gelatine blocks.
The feeling in line is conspicuous in both blocks, many painters might prefer the smaller.
“A WILLOWY STREAM.” (FROM THE PAINTING BY MAUD NAFTEL.)
(New Gallery, 1889.)
Mr. Emery Walker, of the firm of Walker and Boutall, who has had great experience in the reproduction of illustrations and designs from old books and manuscripts, will tell you that very often there is no reduction of the original; and he will show reproductions in photo-relief of engravings and drawings of the same size as the originals, the character of the paper, and the colour of the printing also, so closely imitated that experts can hardly distinguish one from the other. On the other hand, the value of reduction, for certain styles of drawing especially, can hardly be over-estimated. The last drawing was reduced to less than half the length of the original, and is, I think, one of the best results yet attained by the Dawson relief process.
Again, I say, “there is no rule about it.” In the course of years, and in the reduction to various scales of thousands of drawings by different artists, to print at the type press, my experience is that every drawing has its scale, to which it is best reduced.
In these pages will be found examples of drawings reduced to one-sixtieth the area of the original, whilst others have not been reduced at all.
No. X.
“Twins,” by Stanley Berkley.
Sketch in pen and ink (size 8¼ × 5½ in.) from Mr. Berkley’s picture in the Grosvenor Gallery in 1884.
A good example of breadth and expression in line, the values being well indicated. Mr. Berkley, knowing animal life well, and knowing his picture, is able to give expression to almost every touch. Here the common zinc process answers well.
“THE DARK ISLAND.” (FROM THE PAINTING BY ALFRED EAST.)
(Royal Academy, 1885.)
There is much instruction in these drawings by painters, instruction of a kind, not to be obtained elsewhere. The broad distinction between a “sketch” from Nature and a drawing made in a sketchy manner cannot be too often pointed out, and such drawings as those by Mr. G. Clausen (p. 59), Fred. Hall (p. 73), Stanley Berkley (p. 79), T. C. Gotch (p. 83), and others, help to explain the difference. These are all reproduced easily on process blocks.[9]
As to sketching in line from life, ready for reproduction on a process block, it is necessary to say a few words here. The system is, I know, followed by a few illustrators for newspapers (and by a few geniuses like Mr. Joseph Pennell, Raven Hill, and Phil. May, who have their own methods), and who, by incessant practice, have become proficient. They have special ability for this kind of work, and their manner and style is their capital and attraction.
No. XI.
A Portrait, by T. C. Gotch.
Pen-and-ink drawing (size 7½ × 6½ in.); from his picture in the Exhibition of the New English Art Club, 1889.
Mr. Gotch is well known for his painting of children; but he has also the instinct for line drawing, and a touch which reproduces well without any help from the maker of the zinc block.
The absence of outline, and the modelling suggested by vertical lines, also the treatment of background, should be noticed. This background lights up when opposed to white and vice-versa.
But to attempt to teach rapid sketching in pen and ink is beginning at the wrong end, and is fatal to good art; it is like teaching the principles of pyrotechnics whilst fireworks are going off. And yet we hear of prizes given for rapid sketches to be reproduced by the processes. Indeed, I believe this is the wrong road; the baneful result of living in high-pressure times. It is difficult to imagine any artist of the past consenting to such a system of education.
Sketching from life is, of course, necessary to the student (especially when making illustrations by wash drawings, of which I shall speak presently), but for line work it should be done first in pencil, or whatever medium is easiest at the moment. The lines for reproduction require thinking about, thinking what to leave out, how to interpret the grey of a pencil, or the tints of a brush sketch in the fewest lines. Thus, and thus only, the student learns “the art of leaving out,” “the value of a line.”
The tendency of modern illustrators is to imitate somebody; and in line drawing for the processes, where the artist, and not the engraver, has to make the lines, imitation of some man’s method is almost inevitable.
No. XII.
“Sir John Tenniel,” by Edwin Ward.
Example of another style of line drawing. Mr. Ward is a master of line, as well as a skilful portrait painter. He has lost nothing of the force and character of the original here, by treating it in line.
Mr. Ward has painted a series of small portraits of public men, of which there is an example on p. 90.
Size of pen-and-ink drawing 8½ × 5½ in., reproduced by common process.
Let me quote an instance. The style of the late Charles Keene is imitated in more than one journal at the present time, the artists catching his method of line more easily than the higher qualities of his art, his chiaroscuro, his sense of values and atmospheric effect. I say nothing of his pictorial sense and humour, for they are beyond imitation. It is the husk only we have presented to us.
As a matter of education and outlook for the younger generation of illustrators, this imitation of other men’s lines deserves our special consideration. Nothing is easier in line work than to copy from the daily press. Nothing is more prejudicial to good art, or more fatal to progress.
And yet it is the habit of some instructors to hold up the methods (and the tricks) of one draughtsman to the admiration of students. I read in an art periodical the other day, a suggestion for the better understanding of the way to draw topical illustrations in pen and ink, viz.: that examples of the work of Daniel Vierge, Rico, Abbey, Raven Hill, and other noted pen draughtsmen, should be “set as an exercise to students;” of course with explanation by a lecturer or teacher. But this is a dangerous road for the average student to travel. Of all branches of art none leads so quickly to mannerism as line work, and a particular manner when thus acquired is difficult to shake off.
THE RT. HON. JOHN MORLEY, M.P. (EDWIN WARD.)
Think of the consequences—Vierge with his garish lights, his trick of black spots, his mechanical shadows and neglect of chiaroscuro—all redeemed and tolerated in a genius for the dash and spirit and beauty of his lines—lines, be it observed, that reproduce with difficulty on relief blocks—imitated by countless students; Mr. E. A. Abbey, the refined, and delicate American draughtsman, imitated for his method—the style and chic of it being his own, and inimitable. Think of the crowd coming on—imitators of the imitators of Rico—imitators of the imitators of Charles Keene!
It may be said generally, that in order to obtain work as an illustrator—the practical point—there must be originality of thought and design. There must be originality, as well as care and thought bestowed on every drawing for the Press.
The drawing of portraits in line from photographs gives employment to some illustrators, as line blocks will print in newspapers much better than photographs. But for newspaper printing they must be done with something of the precision of this portrait, in which the whites are cut deep and where there are few broken lines.
It is the exception to get good printing in England, under present conditions of haste and cheapening of production, and therefore the best drawings for rapid reproduction are those that require the least touching on the part of the engraver, as a touched-up process block is troublesome to the printer; but it is difficult to impress this on the artistic mind.
No. XIII.
“Nothing venture, nothing have,” by E. P. Sanguinetti.
Pen-and-ink drawing from the picture by E. P. Sanguinetti, exhibited at the Nineteenth Century Art Society’s Gallery, 1888.
The large block is suitable for printing on common paper, and by fast machines. The little block is best adapted for bookwork, and is interesting as showing the quality obtained by reduction. It is an excellent example of drawing for process, showing much ingenuity of line. The tone and shadows on the ground equal the best fac-simile engraving. (Size of original drawing, from which both blocks were made, 15 × 10 in.)
“ON THE TERRACE.” (E. A. ROWE.) From his water-colour in the New Gallery, 1894.
Size of Pen Drawing, 5¾ x 7½ in.
Some people cannot draw firm clean lines at all, and should not attempt them. Few allow sufficiently for the result of reduction, and the necessary thickening of some lines. The results are often a matter of touch and temperament. Some artists are naturally unfitted for line work; the rules which would apply to one are almost useless to another. Again, there is great inequality in the making of these cheap zinc blocks, however well the drawings may be made; they require more care and experience in developing than is generally supposed.
As line drawing is the basis of the best drawing for the press, I have interspersed through these pages examples and achievements in this direction; examples which in nearly every case are the result of knowledge and consideration of the requirements of process, as an antidote to the sketchy, careless methods so much in vogue. Here we may see—as has probably never been seen before in one volume—what harmonies and discords may be played on this instrument with one string. One string—no “messing about,” if the phrase may be excused—pure black lines on Bristol board (or paper of the same surface), photographed on to a zinc plate, the white parts etched away and the drawing made to stand in relief, ready to print with the letterpress of a book; every line and touch coming out a black one, or rejected altogether by the process.
No. XIV.
“For the Squire,” by Sir John Millais, Bart., R. A.
This is an example of drawing for process for rapid printing. The accents of the picture are expressed firmly and in the fewest lines, to give the effect of the picture in the simplest way. Sir John Millais’ picture, which was exhibited in the Grosvenor Gallery in 1883, was engraved in mezzotint, and published by Messrs. Thos. Agnew & Sons. (Size of pen-and-ink drawing, 7¼ × 5½ in.) It is suitable for much greater reduction.
Drawings thus made, upon Bristol board or paper of similar surface, with lamp black, Indian ink, or any of the numerous inks now in use, which dry with a dull, not shiny, surface, will always reproduce well. The pen should be of medium point, or a brush may be used as a pen. The lines should be clear and sharp, and are capable of much variation in style and treatment, as we see in these pages. I purposely do not dwell here upon some special surfaces and papers by which different tones and effects may be produced by the line processes; there is too much tendency already with the artist to be interested in the mechanical side. I have not recommended the use of “clay board,” for instance, for the line draughtsman, although it is much used for giving a crisp line to process work, and has a useful surface for scraping out lights, &c. The results are nearly always mechanical looking.[10]
On the next page are two simple, straightforward drawings, which, it will be observed, are well suited to the method of reproduction for the type press. The first is by Mr. H. S. Marks, R. A. (which I take from the pages of Academy Notes), skilfully drawn upon Bristol board, about 7 × 5 in.
Here every line tells, and none are superfluous; the figure of the monk, the texture of his dress, the old stone doorway, the creeper growing on the wall, and the basket of provisions, all form a picture, the lines of which harmonise well with the type of a book.
“THE STOPPED KEY.” (H. S. MARKS, R. A.)
In this deliberate, careful drawing, in which white paper plays by far the principal part, the background and lighting of the picture are considered, also the general balance of a decorative page.[11]
“NYMPH AND CUPID.” SMALL BAS-RELIEF. (H. HOLIDAY.)
(From “Academy Notes.”)
[7] No one artist can teach drawing in line without a tendency to mannerism, especially in art classes.
[8] One of the most accomplished of English painters told me the other day that when he first drew for illustration, the wood engraver dictated the angle and style of cross-hatching, &c., so as to fit the engraver’s tools.
[9] Special interest attaches to the examples in this book from the fact that they have nearly all been drawn on different kinds of paper, and with different materials; and yet nearly all, as will be seen, have come out successfully, and give the spirit of the original.
[10] For description of the various grained papers, &c., see page 113, also Appendix.
[11] The young “pen-and-ink artist” of to-day generally avoids backgrounds, or renders them by a series of unmeaning scratches; he does not consider enough the true “lighting of a picture,” as we shall see further on. The tendency of much modern black-and-white teaching is to ignore backgrounds.
