Other colours there are which have been brought forward within the last few years, not possessing the absolute permanency of the five foregoing, but equal, or superior, to many formerly used. It were folly, therefore, and a silly conservatism on the part of the artist to limit himself to such pigments only as were employed by his forefathers, especially as their merits were often more than doubtful. New colours, it is true, have to be learnt, for each pigment has its own peculiar habitudes, chemical, physical, artistic; but if they be good and durable, no amount of time and study spent upon them is thrown away. To think less of the quality of one's materials than of the effects which can be produced with them is mistaken policy; and to be content with that quality when better can be had, shows no real love of art, but rather indolence and apathy.
Perhaps one reason why freshly introduced pigments have not as fair a chance as they are entitled to, is due to the fashion which prevails of exclaiming against the fugacity of modern colours. If their detractors would confine themselves to certain colours, there could be no denial; but to assert, as is often done, that the cause of modern pictures not standing is owing to modern pigments generally, is unjust. It is not the materials which should be blamed, but those who use them. The fact is, that the artist's knowledge has not increased in proportion to the greater variety of colours at his command. In the early periods of art, when the palette was chiefly confined to native pigments, the painter could not very well go wrong. Now-a-days but too many, wanting the skill of the old masters, seek to make amends for it by brilliancy of colouring: with imperfect knowledge of their materials the result is obvious. The palette, we admit, wants weeding; not only of the bad new colours, but of the bad old colours. This, however, must be a work of time, and depend, not upon the colourman—for where there is a demand there will be a supply—but upon the artists themselves. To this end an increased acquaintance with the properties of pigments is required, whereby they may be able to choose the fast from the fugitive. It may be fairly assumed that the painter will be assisted in his task by the progress of chemical science, which will doubtless add from time to time to the list of stable pigments. We have heard it remarked that there are too many colours already—to which we reply, there are not too many good colours, and scarcely can be. The more crowded the palette is with reliable pigments, the more likely are the worthless to be pushed from their places. In our opinion, there is ample room for fresh colours, provided they be durable; and we have as little sympathy with the stereotyped cry of there being too many, as with the fashionable unbelief in modern pigments. Certainly, the artist who seeks for permanence among the whites, reds, or blues, will not be troubled with a superfluity. Certainly, too, colours are as good as ever they were, and better—better made, better ground, better prepared for use. But, fast and fugitive, pigments are more numerous, and for that reason need more careful selection.
[CHAPTER V.]
ON THE GENERAL QUALITIES OF PIGMENTS.
The general attributes of a perfect pigment are beauty of colour, comprehending pureness and richness, brilliancy and intensity, delicacy and depth,—truth of hue—transparency or opacity, well-working, crispness, setting up, or keeping its place, and desiccation, or drying well. To all of these must be superadded durability when used, a quality to which the health and vitality of a picture belong, and one so essential that all other properties put together without it are of no esteem with the artist who merits reputation. We have, therefore, given it a previous distinct consideration.
It must be observed that no pigment possesses all the foregoing qualifications in perfection, some being naturally at variance or opposed; nor is there any, perhaps, that cannot boast excellence in one or more of them.
Beauty commonly comprises in the same pigment delicacy, purity, and brilliancy; or depth, richness, and intensity. Delicacy and depth in the beauty of colours are at variance in the production of all pigments, so that perfect success in producing the one is attended with more or less of failure in the other, and when they are united—as they occasionally are—it is with some sacrifice of both. Hence the judicious artist purveys for his palette at least two pigments of each colour, one eminent for delicate beauty, the other for richness and depth.
Truth of hue is a relative quality in all colours, except the extreme primaries, in the relations of which, blue, being of nearest affinity to black or shade, has properly but one other relation, in which it inclines to red and becomes purple-blue: it is, therefore, faulty or false, when, tending to yellow, it becomes of a green hue. But red, which is of equal affinity to light and shade, has two relations, by one of which it verges upon blue and becomes a purple-red or crimson; and by the other it leans to yellow, and becomes an orange-red or scarlet, neither of which is individually false or discordant. Yet yellow, which is of nearest affinity to white or light, has strictly but one true relation, by which it inclines to red, and becomes a warm or orange yellow, for by uniting with blue it becomes a defective green-yellow. The best example of true yellow in a pigment, tending neither to red nor blue, is furnished by Aureolin, alluded to in the last chapter. The secondary and tertiary colours, having all duplex relations, may incline without default to either of their relatives.
Transparency is an essential property of all glazing pigments, and adds greatly to the value of dark or shading colours; indeed it is the prime quality upon which depth and darkness depend, as whiteness, or light, does upon opacity or reflecting power. Opacity is, therefore, the antagonist of transparency, and qualifies pigments to cover in dead-colouring, or solid painting, as well as to combine with transparent colours in forming tints; and hence it is that semi-transparent pigments are suited in a mean degree both for dead colouring and for finishing. As excellencies, therefore, transparency and opacity are relative only—the first being as indispensable to shade in all its gradations, as the latter is to light. With regard to transparent and opaque colours generally, it is worthy of attention in the practice of the oil-painter, that the best effects of the former are produced when they are used with a resinous varnish; as opaque pigments are best employed in oil, and the two become united with best effect in a mixture of these vehicles. The natural and artificial powers, or depth and brilliancy, of every colour lie within the extremes of black and white; hence it follows that the most powerful effects of transparent colours are obtained by glazing them over black and white. As, however, few transparent pigments have sufficient body, or tinging power for this, it is often necessary to glaze them over tints, or deep opaque colours of the required hues. There is a charm in transparent colours which frequently leads to an undue use thereof in glazing; but glazing, scumbling, and their combined process must be employed with discretion, according to the objects and effects of a picture.