But the whole effect is obviously untrue to nature, and the tricks—of black spots, of exaggerated shadows on the ground, of scratchings (and of carelessness, which might be excused in a hasty sketch for La Vie Moderne)—are only too apparent.
In nearly every illustration in the Pablo de Segovia (of which there are upwards of one hundred), the artist has relied for brilliancy and effect on patches of black (sometimes ludicrously exaggerated) and other mannerisms, which we accept from a genius, but which the student had better not attempt to imitate. To quote a criticism from the Spectator, “There is almost no light and shade in Vierge. There is an ingenious effect of dazzle, but there is no approach attempted to truth of tone, shadows being quite capriciously used for decoration and supplied to figures that tell as light objects against the sky which throws the shadows.” And yet in these handsome pages there are gems of draughtsmanship and extraordinary tours de force in illustration.
In the reproduction of these drawings, I think the maker of the blocks, M. Gillot, of Paris, would seem to have had a difficult task to perform. The fact is, that Vierge’s wonderful line drawings are sometimes as difficult to reproduce for the type press as those of Holbein or Menzell, and could only be done satisfactorily by one of the intaglio processes, such as that employed by the Autotype Company in éditions de luxe. That Vierge’s drawings were worthy of this anyone who saw the originals when exhibited at Barnard’s Inn would, I think, agree.
It is the duty of any writer or instructor in illustration, to point out these things, once for all. That Vierge could adapt himself to almost any process if he pleased, is demonstrated repeatedly in the Pablo de Segovia, where (as on pages 63 and 67 of that book) the brilliancy and “colour” of pure line by process has hardly ever been equalled. That some of his illustrations are impossible to reproduce well, and have been degraded in the process is also demonstrated on page 199 of the same book, where a mechanical grain has been used to help out the drawing, and the lines have had to be cut up and “rouletted” on the block to make them possible to print.
Of the clever band of illustrators of to-day who owe much of their inspiration (and some of their tricks of method) to Vierge, it is not necessary to speak here; we are in an atmosphere of genius in this chapter, and geniuses are seldom safe guides to students of art.
Speaking generally (and these remarks refer to editors and publishers as well as draughtsmen), the art of illustration as practised in England is far from satisfactory; we are too much given to imitating the tricks and prettinesses of other nations, and it is quite the exception to find either originality or individuality on the pages which are hurled from the modern printing press; individuality as seen in the work of Adolphe Menzell, and, in a different spirit, in that of Gustave Doré and Vierge.
[12] The heading to this chapter was drawn in line and reproduced by photo-zinc process. (See page 134.)