THE DRAUGHTSMAN;[3] OR, HINTS ON LANDSCAPE PAINTING.
OBSERVATIONS ON, AND RULES FOR, SKETCHING.
The following hints, tending to further the tyro's progress in the delightful art of drawing, will not I trust prove unacceptable to such of your readers as are interested in the subject. For my own use I epitomized various directions relative to sketching, when I met with them in Gilpin's "Three Essays on Picturesque Beauty," and I shall feel particularly happy should my attempt at condensing much artistical matter from that interesting volume prove useful to the amateur: the professor undergoes a regular, severe, but essential course of study in that beautiful art, which is to purchase for him fame and emolument; but he who takes up his pencil merely for pastime, will do well to regulate its movements by a few rules, not cumbrous to the memory, and of easy application.—It is my intention briefly to state the object of Gilpin's first and second essays; from the third I have deduced those rules for sketching which appeared most obviously to result from the tenour of his observations:—
Essay 1st discusses the difference between actual and picturesque beauty; smoothness is usually allowed to enter into our ideas of the former, but roughness, or ruggedness is decidedly essential to the latter: for example—The smooth shaven lawn, the neatly turned walk, the classic marble portico, &c. &c. are beautiful; but the ruined castle, the chasmed mountain, the tempestuous ocean, &c. are picturesque, i.e. with appropriate accompaniments; for, after remarking that the sublime and beautiful are, with many persons, the divisions of the picturesque, our acute observer of nature adds, "sublimity alone cannot make an object picturesque," it must in form, colour, or accompaniment, have some degree of beauty to render the epithet just. "Nothing can be more sublime than the ocean, but wholly unaccompanied it has little of the picturesque." It should also be remembered that objects of rough and careless contour, as the worn cart-horse, and the tattered beggar (neither of them laying claim to an iota of sublimity) please better in a painting, than the sleekest racer, and the most finished belle of the Magazin des Modes.[4]
Essay 2nd treats of travelling, as far as it regards the picturesque, which is to be sought in natural, and sometimes artificial, objects; these will constantly present themselves to the observer under all the varieties of light and shadow, and the different combinations of colour, form, and accompaniment, sometimes producing whole landscapes, but more frequently only beautiful parts of scenery. The curious and fantastic forms of nature are not subjects for the pencil,—and the draughtsman will endeavour to depict animate as well as inanimate objects. The utility and amusement of travelling, are also considered in this essay, and hints thrown out for the improvement of barren and disagreeable country, by the observation of lights and shadows, tints of the season, distances, &c., with a recommendation to supply, if possible, every hiatus of nature, by the imagination of all that is needed to render her perfectly picturesque. (An ingenious idea; but, alas! mountains will not always rise in a marsh, forests wave over a sterile heath, nor lakes and rivers adorn a wheat-field. This essay, however, is worthy the perusal of travellers even, who never touched a pencil.)
Essay 3rd treats of sketching from nature from whence are deduced the following
Rules.
1. Every landscape should have a leading subject; a rule too much neglected even by superior artists.
2. Get the object, or subject you design to copy, into the best point of view.