A word here on the influence of
PROCESS-BLOCK MAKERS
on the young illustrator. The “process man,” the teacher and inciter to achievements by this or that process, is not usually an “artist” in the true sense of the word. He knows better than anyone else what lines he can reproduce, and especially what kind of drawing is best adapted for his own process. He will probably tell the young draughtsman what materials to use, what amount of reduction his drawings will bear, and other things of a purely technical not to say businesslike character. Let me not be understood to disparage the work of photo-engravers and others engaged on these processes; on the contrary, the amount of patience, industry, activity, and anxious care bestowed upon the reproduction of drawings and paintings is astonishing, and deserves our gratitude.[17] This work is a new industry of an important kind, in which art and craft are bound up together. The day has past when “process work” is to be looked down upon as only fit for the cheapest, most inferior, and inartistic results.
“THE BROOK.” (FROM A PAINTING BY ARNOLD HELCKÉ.)
PHOTOGRAPHIC ILLUSTRATIONS.
One result of hasty work in making drawings, and the uncertainty of reproduction, promises to be a very serious one to the illustrator, as far as we can see ahead, viz.: the gradual substitution of photographs from life for other forms of illustration. The “Meisenbach” reproduction of a photograph from life, say a full length figure of an actress in some elaborate costume, seems to answer the purpose of the editor of a newspaper to fill a page, where formerly artists and engravers would have been employed. One reason for this is that the details of the dress are so well rendered by photography on the block as to answer the purpose of a fashion plate, an important matter in some weekly newspapers. The result is generally unsatisfactory from an artist’s point of view, but the picture is often most skilfully composed and the values wonderfully rendered, direct from the original.
In the case of the reproduction of photographs, which we are now considering, much may be done by working up a platinotype print before giving it out to be made into a block. Much depends here upon the artistic knowledge of editors and publishers, who have it in their power to have produced good or bad illustrations from the same original. The makers of the blocks being confined to time and price, are practically powerless, and seldom have an opportunity of obtaining the best results. It should be mentioned that blocks made from wash drawings, being shallower than those made from line drawings, suffer more from bad printing and paper.
A good silver print (whether from a photograph from life or from a picture), full of delicate gradations and strong effects, appears on the plate through the film of gauze, dull, flat, and comparatively uninteresting; but the expression of the original is given with more fidelity than could be done by any ordinary wood engraving. This is the best that can be said for it, it is a dull, mechanical process, requiring help from the maker of the blocks; and so a system of touching on the negative (before making the block) to bring out the lights and accents of the picture is the common practice. This is a hazardous business at the best, especially when dealing with the copy of a painting. I mention it to show where “handwork” in the half-tone process first comes in. The block, when made, is also often touched up by an engraver in places, especially where spotty or too dark; and on this work many who were formerly wood-engravers now find employment.