10 “Rules” of Composition (Part 2): Haeckel

What are some “rules” of composition guiding an artist’s hand?

This is the second part of the discussion begun in the last post regarding “rules” of composition. As explained in the last post (Part 1), these “rules” should not be perceived as inflexible laws but rather as guides intended to help artists to arrange their subject material in artworks. After all, to make an artwork eye-catching, artists need to deviate from conventional arrangements underpinning the “rules” and add an element of surprise (i.e. an unpredictable element breaking the “rules”). To sustain the same approach to the discussion as in Part 1, I will again use Ernst Haeckel's scientific illustrations as the focus for the explanation.

Rule #6: avoid creating uninterrupted lines across an image (i.e. where the featured subject creates a conceptual bridge spanning one side of the image to the next, such as an horizon line that has no subject breaking its continuous line). In Haeckel’s Acanthophracta—Plate 41 (shown below) the radiolarians are all arranged with black space surrounding them. Consequently, there are no uninterrupted lines to be seen that might otherwise break the composition into separate components. For instance, if some of these delicate forms were rearranged to create a continuous line wherein they “touch” each other as well as two sides of the image’s border (as shown in the digitally altered image further below for example) then the viewer’s eye is drawn to the uninterrupted line they create. In the case of this altered image, the eye then reads the division in the image as producing two sections; each of which are united with the other but at the same time both are examined by the eye as separate pictorial zones. In short the cohesiveness of the image is diminished.

Ernst Haeckel (1834–1919)

Acanthophracta—Plate 41 Folio print (antique halftone lithographic translation of Haeckel’s drawing by Adolf Giltsch) from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna

28 x 20 cm (image); 35.5 x 27 cm (sheet)

Condition: there is a crease on the lower corner well away from the image.

I am selling this print (Acanthophracta—Plate 41) and the print below (Siphonopharae—Plate 37) along with their accompanying sheets of explanatory text for a combined total cost of $137 AUD including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. (Note: these are large prints and will be shipped in a tube.) Please contact me using the email link at the top of the page if you have any queries or click the “Buy Now” button below.

Sheet of explanatory text for Acanthophracta—Plate 41 from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna (click to enlarge)

Digitally altered image of Acanthophracta—Plate 41 showing the effect of creating an interrupted line

Rule #7: avoid even numbers of subjects (i.e. images composed with, for example, two, four, six or eight featured subjects). This is a common sense type of rule in that when an artist uses odd numbers of subjects—one, three, five or seven etc.—then there is a better chance of there being a centre of interest upon which the eye can focus. To express this differently, committees are ideally composed of an odd number of people because an odd number means that one member of the committee stands alone and can cast a deciding vote. In terms of composition, the same logic applies in that odd numbers of subjects usually means that one of them stands out to become the focal point whereas when even numbers of subjects are featured this can lean a composition towards symmetry where all the subjects compete for attention. In Haeckel’s Siphonopharae—Plate 37 (shown below) there are an odd number of subjects and clearly the central form is visually arresting because of its size and complexity. If this central form is removed (as can seen in the digitally altered image further below) then there are an even number of subjects and the eye is left in a perceptual flux as to where the eye should “rest.”

Ernst Haeckel (1834–1919)

Siphonopharae—Plate 37

Folio print (antique halftone lithographic translation of Haeckel’s drawing by Adolf Giltsch) from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna

28 x 20 cm (image); 35.5 x 27 cm (sheet)

I am selling this print (Siphonopharae—Plate 37) and the print above (Acanthophracta—Plate 41) along with their accompanying sheets of explanatory text for a combined total cost of $137 AUD including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. (Note: these are large prints and will be shipped in a tube.) Please contact me using the email link at the top of the page if you have any queries or click the “Buy Now” button above.

Sheet of explanatory text for Siphonopharae—Plate 37from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna (click to enlarge)

Digitally altered image of Siphonopharae—Plate 37 showing the effect of featuring an even number of subjects

To extend this process of elimination a stage further, in the second altered image of Siphonopharae—Plate 37 shown below, the number of subjects is reduced to just three forms and the eye has less of a problem choosing a centre of interest—to my eye the lower left Siphonopharae. In short, the odd number of displayed subjects allows the viewer to select a centre of interest by establishing one of the forms to be the most interesting in a hierarchy of visual importance (i.e. by a perceptual “pecking order”).

Digitally altered image of Siphonopharae—Plate 37 showing the effect of featuring an odd number of subjects

Rule #8: avoid creating a “floating” composition (i.e. do not position a subject so that it is unattached to the outside border of the image or in a way that does not conceptually relate to the border). For example, if I revisit the composition of Haeckel’s Siphonopharae—Plate 37 and digitally “float” the portrayed forms with additional space surround them as a group, as shown below (see upper-right image), the relationship between the forms and the borderline of the format becomes more “free” compared to the original print (see upper-left image). By this I mean that an element of visual uncertainty is introduced into the composition as to the spatial position of the forms—to my eyes they are further away in this fresh arrangement. Moreover, there is also a leaning to ambiguity with regard to the meaning projected by the new composition—to my eyes the forms are not as structurally solid compared to how they appear when juxtaposed close to the straight edges of the border as in the original print. If I then digitally remove all but the central Siphonopharae from the composition (see lower-left image) the relationship between the borderline and the portrayed subject becomes more tenuous. This is because the removal of the Siphonopharae from the corners of the composition makes the arrangement less formal and rigid. As a final experiment, consider how the relationship between the border and the central Siphonopharae breaks down even further if the subject’s form is distorted (see lower-right image) so that it could be framed with formats other than a rectangle (e.g. an oval or a diamond-shape). At this stage the compositional link between subject and the image shape is lost by the effect of a perceptually floating subject.

(upper-left) Siphonopharae—Plate 37

(upper-right) digitally altered image showing the effect of a “floating” composition

(lower-left) digitally altered image showing the effect of a “floating” composition

(lower-right) digitally distorted image showing the effect of a “floating” composition

The addition of a single line connecting the subject to the borderline, however, can “fix” the problem and give compositional cohesiveness back to the image as can be seen in the adjusted image below.

Digitally altered image of Siphonopharae—Plate 37 

 Rule #9: avoid creating an unbalanced composition (i.e. do not position the subject material so that it is aesthetically too “heavy” on the top or sides). Usually artists seldom create unbalanced compositions because intuition and years of developing a “good” eye for aesthetics guides judgements regarding balance. Rather than resorting to the tried and tested approaches to test whether a composition is balanced or not (e.g. looking at the artwork in a mirror to give a fresh viewpoint—there is even a tradition of looking at artworks by turning your back to them, bending over, and then examining them from the unusual viewpoint of between your legs) I wish to discuss the more delicate approach of using the centre-of-interest as a fulcrum point to avoid an unbalanced composition.

In the earlier adjustment of Siphonopharae—Plate 37 showing the effect of using only three featured subjects (see the left image below) the composition displays a visually unsettling top-left weighting. One way to address this aesthetic problem is to shift the upper-left Siphonopharae to a position where it acts like a fulcrum (i.e. the pivoting point) of a child’s swing to aesthetically balance the two other forms. In the right image below, I have selected such a point that I feel is aesthetically “right” for balancing the visual weights of the lower-left and the upper-right forms. Of course there are many other such positions and there will be many viewers with a much more refined sense for locating the exact “sweet spot” for placing this subject. 

Digitally altered image of Siphonopharae—Plate 37 showing the fulcrum point adjustments

Rule #10: avoid creating equal sized spaces between subjects (i.e. do not position a subject midway between two others). Of all the issues relating to composition in Haeckel’s prints this “rule” is the one that Haeckel has chosen to ignore, but with good reason. In scientific illustration the purpose of the artwork is to show the subject in a way that can be understood objectively as a specimen. This means that the artist’s role is not directed to showcasing a very personal view of it (even though Haeckel’s artwork is far from lacking a clear style). Mindful of this aim, Haeckel’s images are constructed using symmetry of equal sized spaces. Nevertheless, to demonstrate the effect of changing this symmetry with subjects arranged with uneven spaces separating them the digitally adjusted image below of Siphonopharae—Plate 37 may be of interest. Of course the creation of these unequal sized spaces raises the question in scientific illustration concerning rule #8: avoid creating a “floating” composition.

(left) Siphonopharae—Plate 37

(right) digitally altered image using uneven spacing of subjects

10 “Rules” of Composition (Part 1): Haeckel

What are some “rules” of composition guiding an artist’s hand?

In the last post, Analogue & Digital Lighting, I discussed how artists manipulate the lighting of a subject to assist viewers of different cultures to perceive images as three-dimensional. This discussion moves away from the effect of lighting, even though it plays a pivotal role in projecting meaning, and focuses on principles of composition designed to engage the viewer’s eye and brain. To narrow down the large field of principles relating to composition I have limited my selection to ten “rules” of composition that lie at the back of the mind of most artists. I use the words “at the back of the mind” guardedly as in one sense these rules should be avoided because they can be distracting to a viewer’s reading of an image. In another sense, they should be applied because they catch a viewer’s eye by being disturbing to a smooth reading of an image and may be the critical ingredients that make an image memorable. To demonstrate the affect of each of these rules on images, I will apply them to a set of exquisite scientific illustrations by the almost legendary biologist and naturalist Ernst Haeckel (1834–1919). For sensitive folk who see no reason to explore Haeckel’s images in the way I plan I apologise in advance.

Rule #1: avoid creating tangents (i.e. do not to allow a subject to either “touch” another featured subject or the bordering edge of the image). In Haeckel’s Basimycetes—Plate 63 (shown below) all of the portrayed fungi pictorially float separated from each other in the black space surrounding them. This separation allows the eye to move in a conceptually democratic way to each of the featured subjects (disregarding for the moment any eye-catching attributes of one subject over the next). 

Ernst Haeckel (1834–1919)

Basimycetes—Plate 63

Folio print (antique halftone lithographic translation of Haeckel’s drawing by Adolf Giltsch) from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna

28 x 20 cm (image); 35.5 x 27 cm (sheet)

I am selling this print (Basimycetes—Plate 63) and the print below (Ophiodea—Plate 70) along with their accompanying sheets of explanatory text for a combined total cost of $137 AUD including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. (Note: these are large prints and will be shipped in a tube.) Please contact me using the email link at the top of the page if you have any queries or click the “Buy Now” button below.

This item has been sold

Sheet of explanatory text for Basimycetes—Plate 63 from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna (click to enlarge)

If Haeckel had allowed the fungi on the peripheral rim of the image to tangentially brush against the border (as shown in the digitally altered image below) then the mushrooms at these points of tangential union are privileged by the eye at the expense of those closer to the centre. This phenomenon also applies to the portrayal of single subjects (as shown in the digitally altered image further below) where the points of tangential union again attract the eye away from the rest of the subject.

Digitally altered image of Basimycetes—Plate 63 showing the effect of tangents

Detail of Basimycetes—Plate 63 showing the effect of tangents

Rule #2: avoid lines that point to corners (i.e. do not allow a subject to be angled towards a corner of the image). In Haeckel’s Ophiodea—Plate 70 (shown below) his composition of various type of starfish (Brittle Stars, Basket Stars etc) show Ophiopholis Japonica (on the upper left) and Ophiohelus Umbrella (on the upper right) aligned with their central axis towards the corners. To my eyes these two invertebrates catch my eye like arrowheads which initially make me look at them and ultimately to look outside the composition even though the very symmetrical arrangement of all the starfish as a group is visually undemanding. 

Ernst Haeckel (1834–1919)

Ophiodea—Plate 70

Folio print (antique halftone lithographic translation of Haeckel’s drawing by Adolf Giltsch) from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna

28 x 20 cm (image); 35.5 x 27 cm (sheet)

I am selling this print (Ophiodea—Plate 70) and the print above (Basimycetes—Plate 63) along with their accompanying sheets of explanatory text for a combined total cost of $137 AUD including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. (Note: these are large prints and will be shipped in a tube.) Please contact me using the email link at the top of the page if you have any queries or click the “Buy Now” button below.

This item has been sold

Sheet of explanatory text for Ophiodea—Plate 70 from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna (click to enlarge)

As an experiment, I have digitally repositioned the two invertebrates in the upper corners of the image so that they no longer “point” directly towards the corners. As I had expected, the result (shown below) is visually undemanding in the sense that the eye is less engaged with looking at the upper corners but, interestingly, some of the “life” of the original image is lost in the change. In short, Haeckel's decision—whether by conscious planning or intuitive insight—to ignore the second rule (i.e. to avoid lines that point to corners) is one of the mercurial ingredients that make the original image memorable. 

Digitally altered image of Ophiodea—Plate 70 showing the effect of realigning the upper left and right corner invertebrates 

Rule #3: avoid lines that visually crop corners (i.e. do not allow a subject to create a corner shape—usually a triangle—in the background that is not “connected” to the rest of the composition). In Haeckel’s Ammonitida—Plate 44 (shown below) all the portrayed ammonites have space around them. This arrangement ensures that there are no redundant—in the sense of “orphaned”—spaces in the composition. 

Ernst Haeckel (1834–1919)

Ammonitida—Plate 44

Folio print (antique halftone lithographic translation of Haeckel’s drawing by Adolf Giltsch) from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna

28 x 20 cm (image); 35.5 x 27 cm (sheet)

I am selling this print (Ammonitida—Plate 44) and the print below (Spirobranchia—Plate 97) along with their accompanying sheets of explanatory text for a combined total cost of $137 AUD including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. (Note: these are large prints and will be shipped in a tube.) Please contact me using the email link at the top of the page if you have any queries or click the “Buy Now” button below.

This item has been sold

Sheet of explanatory text for Ammonitida—Plate 44 from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna (click to enlarge)

If Haeckel had positioned ammonites in the corners to intersect with the sides of the image and thus create corners (see digitally altered image below) the original rectangular shape of the image changes to appear to be one that is more rounded even if this is only an optical illusion. Beyond this perceptual change to the format shape the projected meaning of the image also changes. In this sense the shift is from an ostensibly objective view of the fossilised shellfish (or more correctly, molluscs) where they can be examined as whole forms to a subjective view of them where the viewer appreciates that there is more to be seen than what is portrayed (i.e. the viewer understands that there are parts of the ammonites that are “missing” in the image).

Digitally altered image of Ammonitida—Plate 44 showing the effect of pictorially cropping the corners of the image with the portrayed subject 

Rule #4: avoid having more than one centre of interest (i.e. do not allow for more than one portrayed feature to be the main attraction). In Haeckel’s Spirobranchia—Plate 97 (shown below), for instance, the eye is not guided through a hierarchy of points of interest as if going on a journey of discovery. Instead each of the flatworms visually fights with its neighbours for attention. In short, what is produced by this bombardment of each subject seeking attention is visual indigestion for the viewer’s eye and brain.

Ernst Haeckel (1834–1919)

Spirobranchia—Plate 97

Folio print (antique halftone lithographic translation of Haeckel’s drawing by Adolf Giltsch) from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna

28 x 20 cm (image); 35.5 x 27 cm (sheet)

I am selling this print (Spirobranchia—Plate 97) and the print above (Ammonitida—Plate 44) along with their accompanying sheets of explanatory text for a combined total cost of $137 AUD including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. (Note: these are large prints and will be shipped in a tube.) Please contact me using the email link at the top of the page if you have any queries or click the “Buy Now” button below.

This item has been sold

Sheet of explanatory text for Spirobranchia—Plate 97 from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna (click to enlarge)

 In the digitally altered image shown below, the degree of contrast rendering each of the forms has been changed so that a hierarchy of visual importance is created. To ensure that there is a clear centre of interest (i.e. a final “resting place” for the eye) colour has been added to form at the centre of the composition. Of course any of these flatworm shells could have been used as the centre of interest as the critical point could be anywhere in the composition so long as there is only the single point.

Digitally altered image of Spirobranchia—Plate 97 showing the effect of creating a hierarchy of interest within the selection of forms 

Rule #5: avoid placing vertical lines on the left and horizontal lines on the right (i.e. do not place subjects that are fundamentally vertical in form on the left side of a composition and subjects that are fundamentally horizontal on the right). This rule is driven by a left-to-right reading direction in that strong verticals disposed on the left of a composition “block” an Occidental viewer’s reading while strong horizontals on the right allow the viewer’s eye to “slide” out of the composition. Conversely, artists compose their images with horizontals on the left and verticals on the right. Even our eating habits are driven by this rule in that when we eat a triangular slice of pie or pizza inevitably we angle the “pointy” end to the left and the crust (i.e. vertical) end to the right. Going further, when a waiter leaves a plate of steak and vegetables on the table we are pleased when the steak is on the left (presuming the steak is lying on its major axis parallel to us) and the row of vegetables (arranged in a vertically away from us) is on the right.

In Haeckle’s arrangement of Cyrtioidea—Plate 31 (shown below) all of the portrayed zooplankton have a strong vertical orientation. For most viewers this arrangement hinders a smooth left-to-right reading and invites a more vertical reading, or, in the case of my eye, a reading that radiates outwards from the centre subject.

Ernst Haeckel (1834–1919)

Cyrtioidea—Plate 31

Folio print (antique halftone lithographic translation of Haeckel’s drawing by Adolf Giltsch) from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna

28 x 20 cm (image); 35.5 x 27 cm (sheet)

I am selling this print (Cyrtioidea—Plate 31) along with its accompanying sheet of explanatory text for $95 AUD including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. (Note: this is a large print and will be shipped in a tube.) Please contact me using the email link at the top of the page if you have any queries or click the “Buy Now” button below.

Sheet of explanatory text for Cyrtioidea—Plate 31 from Ernst Haeckel’s 1899–1904 edition of Kunstformen der Natur published by Leipzig & Vienna (click to enlarge)

To explore what would happen if the same zooplankton skeletons were rearranged to invite a conventional reading from left-to-right, the original image has been digitally altered so that the Cyrtioidea of the left are now aligned horizontally as shown below. This new arrangement certainly allows for a lateral reading even if the position of the forms is awkward in the sense that the composition is top heavy. For my eye the scanning direction follows a horseshoe-shaped pattern with the entry and exit points (i.e. where the eye begins looking and when it finishes) both being on the left. Moreover, the leaning to read from the centre subject outwards is no longer as strong. 

Digitally altered image of Cyrtioidea—Plate 31 showing the effect of horizontally aligning the featured subjects on the left of the image 

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The above discussion is the first part of the focus on 10 “Rules” of Composition. The next post will give the second part of the discussion.

Graphic & Pictorial Space: Haden & Brangwyn

How do artists create meaningful images when one component of their brain is analytical and the other is intuitive?

In an earlier post focused on Daniel Heimlich, I proposed that his arrangement of subject material matches the constructs of the Foote, Cone and Belding Grid in engaging the viewer’s left and right brains' functions. For the present discussion I will move the focus away from the concept that the analytic and intuitive leanings of our divided brain prefer certain arrangements of imagery and focus on how these two propensities of the brain impact on the way that artists’ make images. More specifically, I wish to discuss how Sir Francis Seymour Haden (1818–1910) and Sir Frank Brangwyn (1867–1956) present their very different ways of looking at subjects into coherent images.

Before exploring these artists’ approaches I must clarify that the following explanation is based solely on what can be seen in the prints examined rather than being based on privileged knowledge about these artists’ motivations and intentions when they made the images.

At first glance, Haden's etching, Thames Ditton—with a Sail (shown below) may appear to be an easily understood image. Essentially, the immediate foreground shows the broken remains of a tree trunk. The left silhouette edge of this tree creates an arching rhythm leading to a sail strung loose on a mast with water behind it stretching back to a cluster of houses in the distance. On a closer inspection, however, this initial reading of the scene is not so straight forward. The foreground tree is not an objective representation of what Haden would have seen (see detail further below). For instance, the treatment of its upper region is far from being an accurate description of bark and twigs. But this does not mean that the drawing of the tree is inappropriate. It is a wonderful tree. From my standpoint the treatment of its representation with a web of seemingly searching marks expresses clearly Haden’s emotional response to the non-visible spirit of the tree. Just as important, this very subjective rendering of the tree juxtaposed beside the mimetic treatment of the rest of the image projects a mood of unease arising from the note of discord the contrast between the two drawing styles creates.

(Sir) Francis Seymour Haden (aka Dean, H [used for RA exhibitions]) (1818–1910)

“Thames Ditton—with a Sail” (aka ”Le Village de Thames Ditton”), 1864

Etching with drypoint on fine cream laid paper with wide margins.

Size: (sheet) 26.8 x 36.1 cm (plate); 14 x 20.6 cm; (image borderline) 12.7 x 20.5 cm

State viii (of viii) with the “bare strip 10mm. across the bottom of the plate” and the inscription from the previous state with the address of Cadart & Luquet removed.

Schneiderman (Seymour Haden) 68.VIII (Richard S Schneiderman 1983, “A catalogue raisonné of the prints of Sir Francis Seymour Haden”, Robin Garton, London, p. 171, cat.no. 68.VIII); Harrington 73 (Samuel Henry Nazeby Harrington 1910, “The engraved work of Francis Seymour Haden, an illustrated and descriptive catalog”, p. 36, cat.no. 73)

The Rijksmuseum offers the following description of this print from the same state (viii) as this impression:

“The village of Thames Ditton on a river. In the foreground two old trees and a man in a sailing ship.”

(http://hdl.handle.net/10934/RM0001.collect.42501)

See also the description of the print by the British Museum:

http://www.britishmuseum.org/research/collection_online/collection_object_details.aspx?objectId=1564366&partId=1&searchText=ditton&page=1

Condition: crisp, impression with a bare upper left corner—perhaps resulting from the plate having been inadvertently held before it was printed. The sheet is in near pristine condition (i.e. there are no tears, holes, folds, abrasions, stains or foxing but there is lightening of tone around the impression).

I am selling this exceptionally fine impression in faultless condition for the total cost of AU$430 (currently US$324.65/EUR270.86/GBP238.76) including postage and handling to anywhere in the world.

If you are interested in purchasing this remarkable print by Haden with a simply incredible drawing of a tree that goes far beyond a pictorial description of it and from my viewpoint expresses Haden’s intimately personal exploration of what the tree means to him, please contact me (oz_jim@printsandprinciples.com) and I will send you a PayPal invoice to make the payment easy.

(Detail) Thames Ditton—with a Sail, 1884

(Detail) Thames Ditton—with a Sail, 1884

(Detail) Thames Ditton—with a Sail, 1884

What Haden exemplifies in this print are two essential ways of drawing. One way is by visual representation of superficial appearance arising from the left brain processes, as exemplified in the mimetic rendering of the landscape beyond the foreground tree. This approach also involves the mechanics of drawing (e.g. perspective, sight-size measuring, construction of shadows. reflections and all the other subtleties of portraying form) in a very conscious and disciplined way. In short, this approach is to create what may be described as “pictorial space”—a space of three-dimensional illusions. The other way is by analogue representation of essentially non-visual experiences arising from right brain processes, as exemplified in the web of gestural marks describing the foreground tree. This is a more intuitive approach wherein artists configure their gut feelings about a subject into marks, shapes and rhythms onto the drawing support. This concept of intuitively sensing the subject and configuring the drawing to match the experience may be described as “graphic space”—a space of synthesised ideas and non-visual feelings.  

These two spaces—pictorial and graphic—are equally evident in Brangwyn’s remarkable etching, Le Pont Valentre, A Cahors (shown below). Here Brangwyn’s analytical eye defines his vision of the bridge and reflection with finely hatched strokes rendering the tones in pictorial space while his intuitive eye describes in a layering of richly inked lines his experience of a tree on the right in graphic space. What I find fascinating with this print is how literally the two spaces are so unapologetically abutted. From my standpoint, Brangwyn is making a forceful statement with this print that the world of concrete mortar and bricks is also inhabited with the shadowy world of a brooding mood.

Sir Frank Brangwyn (1867–1956)

Le Pont Valentre, A Cahors, 1912

from Revue de L’Art Ancien et Moderne

Etching in sepia ink on cream wove paper,

printed by Chardon Wittman with original tissue guard

18 x 24 cm (plate); 22.6 x 30.9 cm (sheet)

Condition: beautiful impression in pristine condition.

I am selling this print for $310 AUD including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. Please contact me using the email link at the top of the page if you are interested or click the “Buy Now” button.

(Detail) Le Pont Valentre, A Cahors, 1912

(Detail) Le Pont Valentre, A Cahors, 1912

 

Although the above discussion focuses on how Haden and Brangwyn integrated their divided ways of looking into a singular vision, for the viewer of their images the point needs to be made that composition also plays a significant role in how meaning is communicated. Again, like Daniel Heimlich’s arrangement of subject matter, these two artists’ disposition of pictorial and graphic space aligns well with the constructs of the Foote, Cone and Belding Grid: pictorial space is shown on the left and graphic space is shown on the right.

Graphic strength: Frans Masereel

What underpins graphic strength in imagery?

The 1920s was a special time for graphic novels (i.e. narrative books featuring sequential images without text). This was the period when the first wordless books were published and one of the artists who played an instrumental role in promulgating this purely visual way of storytelling is Frans Masereel (1889–1972). Beyond Masereel’s role in revitalising the woodcut tradition for his book illustrations, a key attraction of his work and its influence on fellow illustrators (most notably Lynd Ward) is the graphic strength of his prints. By this term I mean that his prints have the very desirable attribute, especially in book illustration, of being able to catch and sustain a viewer’s attention and to express meaning clearly. The following discussion focuses on explaining this strength with regard to Maserreel's woodcut, Angel (see below).



Frans Masereel (1889–1972)

Angel, 1964 (illustration from Das Gesicht Hamburgs)

Pencil signed and signed with initials in the plate

Woodcut on handmade paper

12.9 x 10.7 cm (plate); 24.3 x 16 cm (sheet)

Condition: Strong impression and in pristine condition with blank verso. I am selling this print for $235 AUD including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. Please contact me using the email link at the top of the page if you are interested or click the “Buy Now” button.

Broadly speaking, the graphic strength of this print rests with two properties: the simplicity of its composition to express meaning and the arresting use of line to portray light and dark. Regarding compositional simplicity, Masereel employs symmetry to divide the image centrally, by the vertical edge of a wall. More subtly, he also divides the image horizontally, by the alignment of distant ships (see below).

Vertical and horizontal divisions in Angel

Overlaying this formal arrangement and spanning from the top of the composition to its lower edge is a symmetrically placed “V”-shape created by the angle of the angel’s cross-topped lance and the angle of the angel's wing (see below). This “V”-shaped rhythm is the critical element giving the print its graphic potency and meaning. I see the perceived angles of the “V”-shape as inviting my eye downwards to a demon that the angel subjugates. In short, the simplicity of symmetry underpinning the composition draws a viewer's attention to the narrative of godliness trampling on evil.

  “V”-shape rhythm

 

Regarding Masereel’s use of line that gives the image its graphic strength, the arrangement of the composition is literally of pivotal importance. The vertical division in the composition (described above) is like a fulcrum balancing and separating the line work portraying a sunlit (moonlit?) harbour scene on the left side of the image from line work portraying a dark slice of architecture on the right. What makes the lines on the left so dramatically different to those on the right is the contrast between black lines (often described in technical terms as positive lines) shown on the left and white lines (negative lines) shown on the right. This contrast of two different types of lines separating the realm of light from that of darkness is not accidental. In fact it is so intentional that the effect takes a considerable foresight and effort.

To create the black lines on the left side of the image Masereel carefully cut away the woodblock so as to leave in relief those areas that were to be inked and printed as positive lines. This is a demanding process as each line to be printed must be rationalised as if it were an island-like shape on the block where the artist has not physically made a mark. Making the process even more demanding, each untouched shape on the block must also be viewed as a line shape that will ultimately be printed as a mirror image on a sheet. Fortunately the creation of white lines is much less demanding. To create these lines Masereel cut directly into the plate to create the void spaces that print as negative lines.

 

Graphically strong images, like Masereel’s Angel, consist of more than just compositional simplicity and bold contrast of line to attract and sustain a viewer’s interest. All the elements and principles of design play their roles in creating a memorable artwork. Nevertheless, these two components, when co-ordinated to address the same overriding meaning, are arguably the most important and the easiest to control by an artist.