Though its revival nowadays might seem a little out of keeping with the more sedate and grown-up point of view of modern life, we cannot doubt that it is still lawful to decorate our work with the brilliance and splendour of gold and colours. Whether it is expedient or not depends upon how it is done: to justify our work, it must succeed; it must be bright and splendid, and really gladden our eyes. And we must really take pleasure in the making of it, for if we do not, we can hardly expect that it will give pleasure to others.
Simple and Complex Forms.—Between simple forms—which are in a sense permanent—and complex forms—which are always changing—it is necessary to make a careful distinction.
An equilateral triangle drawn by “Euclid” and one drawn by a modern Senior Wrangler are, or ought to be, practically the same thing. If the ancients made an ornamental band of geometrical forms, that is no bar to us; we also are at liberty to make decorative bands of circles, lozenges, or triangles.
The ancient Romans made a capital A—its essential form (see fig. [142]) two strokes sloped together and joined by a cross-bar (very like the [p196] “Pons Asinorum”), it could hardly be simpler—they used chisels and pens, which gave it its more characteristic and finished form. If we use chisels and pens properly we shall get a similar result—not absolutely the same—for no two chisels or two hands can be quite the same—but closely resembling it and belonging to our own time as much as to any other.
The essential form of the “Roman” A is a purely abstract form, the common property of every rational age and country,[41] and its characterisation is mainly the product of tools and materials not peculiar to the ancient Romans.
But when there is any real complexity of form and arrangement, or sentiment, we may reasonably suppose that it is peculiar to its time, and that the life and virtue of it cannot be restored.
It was common enough in the Middle Ages to make an initial A of two dragons firmly locked together by claws and teeth. Such forms fitted the humour of the time, and were part of the then natural “scheme of things.” But we should beware of using such antique fantasies and “organisms”; for medieval humour, together with its fauna and flora, belong to the past. And our own work is only honest when made in our own humour, time, and place.
There are, however, an infinite variety of simple abstract forms and symbols, such as circles, crosses, squares, lozenges, triangles, and a number of Alphabets, such as Square and Round Capitals, [p197] Small Letters—upright and sloping—which—weeded of archaisms—we may use freely. And all these forms can be diversified by the tools with which they are made, and the manner in which the tools are used, and be glorified by the addition of bright colours and silver and gold. Very effective “designs” can be made with “chequers” and diaper patterns, and with the very letters themselves. And I have little doubt that an excellent modern style of illumination is quite feasible, in which the greatest possible richness of colour effect is achieved together with extreme simplicity of form.
“FILIGREE, OR PEN-WORK, ILLUMINATION”
(See also pp. [205]–[208], [209], [218]–[20], [425], [428]–[29]; figs. [79], [92], [125]–[26], [150], [188]–[89]; Plates [XI.], [XIII.], [XIV.], [XVII.])
This is a type of illumination which can safely be attempted by one who, having learnt to write, is desirous of illuminating his writing; for it is the direct outcome of penmanship (see p. [204]), and consists mainly of pen flourishes, or semi-formal lines and shapes which can be made with a pen, suitably applied to the part to be decorated. Its effect may be very charming and restful: no colour standing out as in a positive colour scheme, no individual form catching the eye; but the whole having a richness of simple detail and smooth colouring more or less intricate and agreeably bewildering.