Showing posts with label lanceolate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lanceolate. Show all posts

Friday, 23 May 2014

A Spark of Life: Botanical Illustration

What are some principles that can be applied to botanical illustration to give images pictorial vitality: a spark of life?

This post will explore the use of four principles used by botanical illustrators to breathe life into their images: cropping, tangents, projection and juxtaposition. Before entering too far into the discussion, however, I wish to recount the advice given to me by my always wise and wonderful cook, Isabelle, concerning good illustrations:
Like an advertisement, there has to be something [in a botanical illustration] that catches your eye … [and] makes you want to keep looking and thinking about it. (Isabelle 2014 pers. comm. 29 April)
From my experience, Isabelle’s advice is absolutely correct—as is all advice from the cook. Regardless of the need to be circumspect, however, Isabelle’s insight lies at the heart of any memorable botanical illustration or artwork, in that it should:
  • Catch (i.e. “hook”) a viewer’s attention;
  • sustain a viewer’s interest; and,
  • communicate meaning through visual relationships within the image.
To illustrate the importance of the first of these dot-points, I will compare two very similar gatefold engravings (both shown below) by H. Weddell:  Fuchsia (Plate 2620) and Hellebore Leaved Calanthe (Plate 2615), both published by S. Curtis in 1826 for the Botanical Magazine—commonly known as, Curtis's Botanical Magazine (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curtis's_Botanical_Magazine [viewed 2 May 2014]).

H. Weddell (engraver),
­from the design/drawing by Charles M. Curtis (1795–1839)
Fuchsia [Fuchsia arborescens Sims] (Plate 2620), 1825
Published by S. Curtis. Walworth in Curtis's Botanical Magazine, Volume 53, 1826
Engraving with hand-colouring and gatefolds (as published) on fine cream wove paper
Inscribed in plate: (upper-right) “N.2620.”; (lower-left) “Chas. M. Curtis. Del.”; (lower-center) “Pub. By. S. Curtis. Walworth. Dec 1825.”; (lower-right) “Weddell Sc.”
(sheet) 30.5 x 22.8 cm; (plate) 23.2 x 20.2 cm
Condition: marvellous impression with superb colour in near pristine condition (i.e. the colour has not faded and there is no sign of foxing, bumps or tears).
I am selling this print and Weddell’s Hellebore Leaved Calanthe (shown further below) for a total cost of [deleted] including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. 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 print and been sold





H. Weddell (engraver),
­from the design/drawing by Robert Kaye Greville (1794–1866)
Hellebore-Leaved Calanthe/ Calanthe triplicate/Christmas Orchid (Plate 2615), 1825
Published by S. Curtis. Walworth in Curtis's Botanical Magazine, Volume 53, 1826
Engraving with hand-colouring and gatefolds (as published) on fine cream wove paper
Inscribed in plate: (upper-right) “N.2615.”; (lower-left) “Dr. Greville. Del.”; (lower-centre) “Pub. by. S. Curtis. Walworth. Dec 1825.”; (lower-right) “Weddell Sc.”
(sheet) 30.5 x 22.8 cm; (plate) 26.5 x 21.8 cm
Condition: marvellous impression with superb colour in near pristine condition.

I am selling this print and Weddell’s Fuchsia (shown above) for a total cost of [deleted] including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. 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.

This print and been sold







Regarding the first dot-point—to catch/“hook” a viewer’s attention—both engravings are arresting to the eye because the hand-colouring is as saturated in hue as flowers are in reality. There is, however, a subtle principle at play in the formatting (i.e. the pictorial framing) of Fuchsia that arrests the eye more than the formatting of Hellebore-Leaved Calanthe. This principle is simple but effective in giving a spark of life that attracts the eye: cropping (i.e. cutting) the subject at the format edge. By this I mean that in Fuchsia the leaves are pictorially cropped at the edge of the image. For the viewer this cropping implies that the leaves extend beyond the picture/plate area and as such the viewer is enticed into the active role of conceptually visualising—or to “picture in the mind’s eye”—more of the subject than is actually portrayed. By contrast, the formatting of Hellebore-Leaved Calanthe presents the whole plant and casts the viewer into the more passive role of the subject's observer. Although the principle of cropping a subject at the format edge may seem trivial, it is important. It offers artists a simple way to catch the eye and excite the brain to start thinking about the subject presented.

Perhaps pertinent to the question of whether to crop a subject or not is that the Weddell’s (1825) adaptation of Robert Kaye Greville’s original design for Fuchsia  underwent a revision by Ernst von Reider’s for the publication, Blumen und Ziergewachse (1832) (see fourth image from the top of the page at http://www.nkvf.nl/Gelderse_Fuchsia_info-%20site/P16-eng.Antique_Botanical_Fuchsiaprints.htm [viewed 2 May 2014]). In this version of Greville’s design the leaves of the plant are not cropped but, to my eyes, the composition is awkward, squashed and exhibits artifice rather than life.

Using a principle such as cropping, however, raises the sticky question of whether a botanical artist needs to be concerned about catching a viewer’s attention, giving a spark of life, or any other aesthetic considerations. After all, I envisage that there are many botanists who consider that the role of a botanical illustrator should be focused solely on accurate scientific representation. Certainly, Sacheverell Sitwell (1990) in Great Flower Books 1700–1900: A Bibliographical Record of Two Centuries of Finely-Illustrated Flower Books raises the question about looking “from the point of view of aesthetics, not ‘botanics’” (p. 17) and to clarify the position held by botanists, he offers the following unapologetic criticism of Dutch flower painters of the early eighteenth century:
They [the Dutch flower painters] sacrificed everything to effect; and in simple words, what did they do during the rest of the year if they did not paint flowers during the six months when they were not in season? They cannot have remained idle. So they worked from notes, or after sufficient experience went straight ahead as if the flowers were there in front of them. We have only to look at the great flower pieces to know that it is impossible that they should be done from nature. They are fanciful arrangements, aided by drawings … and finished during the long winter. This is an offence to the botanists … . (Sitwell 1990, pp. 13–14)

Of course, botanical illustrators are not obliged to use the principle of cropping. Moreover, use of the principle is not an essential way to catch a viewer’s attention with a vital spark. There are many other ways. For instance, a perfect example of a print that clearly does not rely on the subject having been cropped and yet it is riveting to the eye is Edward Joseph Lowe's (1825–1900) Hymenodium Crinitum (shown below). From a personal viewpoint this print catches my attention and it exudes an aura of presence for an antithetical reason to the cropped leaves of the Fuchsia engraving: in Hymenodium Crinitum the central placement of the subject—a leaf—is like the bullseye in a target in which the strong symmetry and the virtual sea of negative space surrounding it generates a commanding aura of presence for the subject.

Edward Joseph Lowe (1825–1900)
Illustrated by A.F. Lydon
Printed by Benjamin Fawcett
Hymenodium Crinitum, 1856
From Lowe's Ferns: British and Exotic, Vol 1 (Plate XLI), published 1856 by Groombridge and Sons, London.
Woodblock/chromoxylograph (see description of the process below) on cream wove paper
24.9 x 14.5 cm
Rare Prints Gallery offers the following insight into Lowe’s publication and printing process:
It was Lowe’s botanical expertise and funding that produced the work, but A.F. Lyon was the artist for the work, and Benjamin Fawcett’s printing talent created the plates. Fawcett was a well-known color printer of the time. His technique of using multiple engravings from the end-grain of the wood, known as chromoxylography, was used on this work. It was one of the first large publications to be printed in color with no hand-finishing. (http://www.rareprintsgallery.com/store/product/loweframeddes [Viewed 15 May 2014])
Condition: crisp impression with minor age-toning otherwise in good condition (i.e. the colour has not faded and there is no sign of foxing, bumps or tears).

I am selling this print (Hymenodium Crinitum) and the print shown further (Horminum: Angurice Folio) for a total cost of [deleted] including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. 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 print and been sold





Equally riveting in terms of central placement is Paul Herman’s (1646–95) early botanical study, Horminum (shown below), where the plant’s stem creates an uninterrupted vertical line through the composition’s centre. Unlike Lowe’s print, here the strong attraction to the centrally placed line of the stem is offset by the use of another principle/rule of composition that commands the eyes’ attention and, arguably, gives the subject vitality: use of tangents. In Horminum these tangents occur where the extremities of the plant abut with (i.e. “brush against”) the sides of the plate marks.

Interestingly, this principle/rule of composition is usually avoided (as discussed in the posts, Compositional Rules, Part 1 and 2) because tangents attract attention away from the centre of a composition. In this composition, however, creating interest at the peripheral edges of the format is not a problem as the centre is already asserting an overly strong attraction and the use tangents help to counteract and balance a viewer’s interest.

Paul Herman (1646–95)
Horminum: Angurice Folio, c. 1700
From Paradisus batavus, innumeris exoticis curiosis herbis, & rarioribus plantis, magno sumptu & curâ ex variis terrarum orbis regionibus, tam oriente, quam occidente, collectis, acquisitis, illustratus. Ingeniosissima, & dexterrima artificum manu elaboratis iconibus, ad vivum æri incisis. Eruditissimâ suâ, & magnorum in re herbaria versatissimorum virorum, methodicâ descriptione, & catalogo plantarum, nondum præ immatura morte auctoris delineatarum, locupletatus [Google translation: Paradise is the Batavi, and countless exotic herbs, the curious, and the two more rare plants, to the great expense and care, from the various lands of the world countries, as well as the east, rather than west, collections, acquired, enriched by. Talented, icons, and skilfully from the artists of the hand-prepared, to the life of the brass was cut. Erudite essay, and the great men versed in botany, methodical description, and the catalog of the plants, not because of the untimely death of the author outlined endowed]
Published in 1698–1705 by Peter van der Aa, Leyden
(This book may be downloaded as a digital file or read online at: https://archive.org/details/paulihermannipar00herm [Viewed 15 May 2014])
Copper engraving on fine laid paper with 2.5 cm chainlines
(sheet) 24.4 x 17.4 cm; (plate) 15.5 x 11.6 cm

Condition: strong, richly inked impression with appropriate age-toning towards the extremities of the sheet and light handling marks otherwise in good condition.
I am selling this print (Horminum: Angurice Folio) and the print shown further above (Hymenodium Crinitum) for a total cost of [deleted] including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. 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.






Regarding the second dot-point about making illustrations memorable—the need to sustain a viewer’s interest—I wish to compare two rare engravings from Hendrik van Rheede tot Drakenstein’s (1636–91) famous, Hortus Indicus Malabaricus that offers insights into Dutch colonial botanical interests in South Asia: Schadida-calli and Bahel schulli  (both shown below).

Hendrik Adriaan Van Reede Tot Drakenstein (1636-1691) 
Schadida-calli (Plate 82), 1679
From Hortus Indicus Malabaricus, vol. 2: t. 82 (1679)
To view this book online or download a pdf copy, see archive.org: https://archive.org/details/mobot31753003370076 (viewed 19 May 2014)
(This print and its descriptive text in Latin may be referenced in the above digital copy, pp. 304-05 or pp. 80–81 in Volume 2 of the original text)
Engraving on fine laid paper with 2.5 cm chainlines and gatefold as published
(sheet) 38.1 x 47.7 cm; (plate) 34 x 44.2 cm

Condition: extremely rare, richly inked and crisp impression in near pristine condition.
I am selling this print (Schadida-calli) and the related print shown further above (Bahel schulli ) (i.e. two engravings) for a total cost of [deleted] including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. 







Hendrik Adriaan Van Reede Tot Drakenstein (1636-1691) 
Bahel schulli  [Hygrophila schulli] (Plate 45), 1679
From Hortus Indicus Malabaricus, vol. 2: t. 45 (1679)
To view this book online or download a pdf copy, see archive.org: https://archive.org/details/mobot31753003370076 (viewed 19 May 2014)
(This print and its descriptive text in Latin may be referenced in the above digital copy, pp. 311-12 or pp. 86–87 in Volume 2 of the original text)
Engraving on fine laid paper with 2.5 cm chainlines and gatefold as published
(sheet) 38.1 x 47.4 cm; (plate) 33.8 x 44 cm

Condition: rare and superb impression in near pristine condition.
I am selling this print (Bahel schulli ) and the related print shown further above (Schadida-calli) (i.e. two engravings) for a total cost of [deleted]  including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. 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.






From personal experience of looking at prints such as these, I have found that images which actively invite my gaze are more likely to succeed in sustaining interest and projecting the idea that a plant is alive. Fortunately the principle that performs this task the best is not a well kept secret. It is simply the use of projection. In practice this means ensuring that the portrayed subject has features that pictorially jut out towards the viewer and/or features that recede away.

To illustrate the use of projection, note how the cactus depicted in Schadida-calli arcs towards the viewer or, for some viewers that read the image differently, the cactus arcs away. This angled arrangement of the cactus acts like a conceptual bridge in welcoming a viewer to look into the pictorial space of the image. With regard to whether the use of projection also breathes life into the cactus is best answered by comparing the projecting arrangement of the cactus in Schadida-calli with the non-projecting arrangement of the marsh herb in Bahel schulli where the plant is arranged parallel to the viewing plane. For me, the herb seems lifeless because I examined it passively whereas subjects like the cactus that are angled towards me seem to arouse a feeling that I need to interact with them and in the process this active engagement lends the suggestion that they are alive.

Regarding the third and final dot-point—to communicate meaning through visual relationships within the image—this is a critical strategy in botanical illustration. After all, without clear and unambiguous communication, an image is unlikely to be a meaningful showcase repository of botanical information and the image is also unlikely to be memorable. To illustrate how an artist can communicate key attributes of a plant with clarity, I wish to focus on the compositional arrangement of six engravings (shown below) from the eighth volume of James Sowerby’s (1757–1822) justifiably famous English Botany.

James Sowerby (1757–1822)
6 original engravings with hand-colouring as published in the 1799 (first) edition of English Botany; or, Coloured Figures of British Plants, with their Essential Characters, Synonyms, and Places of Growth, Volume 8, with accompanying text page descriptions of each plant.
Greater Stitchwort, Plate 511;
Vernal Sandwort, Plate 512;
Oxlip, Plate 513;
Greater Periwinkle, Plate 514;
Bulbous Crowfoot / Butter-cups, Plate 515;
Creeping Crowfoot, Plate 516  
Engraving on early cream wove paper
Each leaf: (sheet) 22.6 x 13.7 cm; (plate) 17 x 9.4 cm
[Viewed 23 May 2014])

Condition: crisp impressions with hand-colouring (as published in 1799) in pristine condition. The pages are taken from a book that is in poor condition hence the pages are loose. I am selling all 6 prints with their accompanying page of descriptive text for a total cost (including shipping to anywhere in the world) [deleted].







Even a cursory glance at the six prints reveals the following attributes (among others):
  • each plant is depicted close to the picture plane and is centrally arranged so that its distinctive details (e.g. leaves, flowers and roots) can be examined closely;
  • each plant is aligned parallel to the picture plane and set against a blank/featureless background; and,
  • a large section of each plant is portrayed in full-colour while smaller details of the plant are rendered schematically in black line.
Sowerby’s choice to arrange his prints in this way is far from accidental. By design, the composition of his prints is all about providing botanists with accurate visual information about the distinctive features of each plant.

With regard to a particular specimen’s leaf-shape, for instance, Sowerby applies the principle of juxtaposition wherein two related pieces of visual information are juxtaposed to clarify the distinctive characteristics of a leaf’s shape. In Greater Stitchwort (shown as the top-left image in the panel of six prints and the first detail), Sowerby offers a full-colour overview of the Greater Stitchwort’s leaves and how they are attached to their stem; this is the first piece of visual information. To ensure that a botanist is unlikely to make an error in reading the lanceolate shape of the leaves and how they are attached, Sowerby offers an outline drawing of the leaf and stem arrangement; this is the second piece of visual information. By intention, both these juxtaposed pieces of information are correlated by the botanist’s eye so that a very clear picture of the leaf-shape is understood.

Although I would love to claim that an illustrator can succeed in achieving clear and unambiguous visual communication and can breathe life into an ostensibly dead specimen to make it seem to be alive, this is an unrealistic dream. Viewers are not all the same and personal interests and desires change how a subject is perceived. The fallacy of achieving such a goal was made crystal clear to me after attending a recent lecture on forensic photography where the lecturer screened a video (shown below) that I had seen before but if ever there is proof that personal interests change what we see this is a perfect demonstration …



Selective Attention Test

(Created by research by Daniel Simons and Christopher Chabris
Copyright 1999 Daniel J. Simons)

Although there is strong evidence (such as the video above) to rebuff the idea that viewers are likely to perceive the same things in images, this does not mean that images cannot be massaged with appropriate principles (e.g. cropping, tangents, projection and juxtaposition) to facilitate clarity of visual communication. This is important as the use of such principles can change what might otherwise be an unexciting representation of a subject into one that “breathes” with vitality. Moreover, appreciating the importance of manipulating an image underpins the straight forward and sensible advice that Isabelle offered at the beginning of this discussion: “there has to be something that catches your eye … [and] makes you want to keep looking and thinking about it.”

    Monday, 8 October 2012

    Phrasing of line: Lowe, Legros, Boisseau, Dore & Kollwitz


    What are some of the principles guiding an artist’s hand when making lines?

    When discussing any principle, especially in the arts, there is an understanding that the principles guiding an artist’s hand are interconnected. I mention this because the following explanation of the principles behind the phrasing of line (i.e. variations to the attributes of line arising from changes in a stroke’s thickness, opacity and flow) share a role in how lines are phrased with a plethora of other closely related principles, such as those discussed in the last post regarding the representation of corners. In short, the following explanation may seem like there is a set of clearly defined principles underpinning the phrasing of line, but in truth each of the four principles addressed below (viz. the Ingres principle; weighting a line; projecting a line; squishing and stretching a line) does not function in a distinctly different way and independent of other principles.

    The first principle that I wish to discuss, the Ingres principle, concerns the phrasing of a subject’s silhouette edge to replicate variations in the subject’s surface contours. For example, if an artist were to apply this principle to portraying a figure’s arm then the sharply angled contours of an elbow may lead the artist to treat the silhouette edge of the elbow with a strong line by comparison with a much softer line where the contours of the arm change to the rounded muscles of the upper arm. In the illustration of an arm shown below, for instance, I have marked the transitional changes to the outer edge of the arm’s underside with most angular contour area marked as point A and the softest contour marked as point D.

    James Brown
    Illustration showing phrased variations, according to the Ingres principle, in the treatment of the outer edge of an arm.
    Point A marks the area at the elbow where most angular contours of the arm are shown by a bold red line delineating the silhouette edge.
    Point B is the area of the elbow where there is less of an angular contour than at point A and is shown by a less opaque, cool blue line floating slightly away from the silhouette edge.
    Point C is the muscled area of the triceps and as this area has more rounded contours than at point B it is shown with a softly applied line.
    Point D marks the area approaching the armpit where the contours are more rounded than any of the previous areas and is shown with a faltering and faintly laid line. 
    This painting has been sold
    (detail) Illustration of the Ingres principle
    Another example would be if an artist were to portray the top edge of a gently curved leaf in a line followed by another line describing the top edge of a tightly curved leaf (see illustrations below). In this scenario, an artist representing the gently curved leaf would almost dissolve the line so that it appeared to be very soft (see upper digitally modified illustration) followed by an emphatically strong line when drawing the tightly curved leaf (see lower digitally modified illustration). The rationale for this difference in the two attributes of line is that the eye can see further around the gently curved leaf and so the line representing this view is accordingly soft whereas the eye is unable to see around a tightly curved leaf and so the line representing it is accordingly  strong and crisp.

    Edward Joseph Lowe (1825–1900)
    Cordyline (Dracaena) Indivisa, LII, 1891
    From Edward Joseph Lowe’s Beautiful Leaved Plants, Being a Description of the Most Beautiful Leaved Plants in Cultivation in the Country
    Originally purchased as a woodblock printed in colours and finished by hand (and it may be) but I believe that it is a chromolithograph.
    25.4 x 17 cm (sheet)
    Condition: Crisp impression in pristine condition with blank verso. There is a pencil inscription on the lower left “New Zealand Native.” I am selling this print for $60 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.

    Digitally altered details of Lowe’s Cordyline (Dracaena) Indivisa, LII, 1891
    (upper) use of a soft and pictorially dissolved upper silhouette edge to portray a gently curve
    (lower) use of an strong and crisp line to portray a tightly curved leaf

    From a personal standpoint, the titling of this principle is a little problematic as the artist I have associated it with, Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (1780–1867), is not the finest exemplar of its use as there are many of his artworks in which it is not evident at all. Nevertheless, as shown in the details below taken from a selection of Ingres’ artworks the phrasing of the silhouette edge is clearly evident. Moreover, until I determine a more appropriate artist with whom to credit the principle as its “father”/progenitor, I will persevere. Later artists have certainly applied the principle in a very clear way, such as Picasso, and I can still remember my pleasure as an art student in examining the skilful play of the silhouette edge in his ravishingly beautiful gouache, La Belle Hollandaise [The Beautiful Hollander] (see detail further below).

    Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (1780–1867)
    (details) Costume study for the portrait of Madame de Rothschild, 1847
    Pencil on paper with touches of white
    Musee Ingres, Montauban
    Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (1780–1867)
    (details) La Grande Odalisque, 1814
    Oil on canvas
    91 x 162 cm
    Louvre
    Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (1780–1867)
    (details) La Source, 1856
    Oil on canvas
    163 x 80 cm
    Musée d'Orsay, Paris
    Pablo Picasso (1881–1973)
    La Belle Hollandaise, 1905
    Gouache on cardboard mounted on wood
    77.1 x 65.8cm
    Queensland Art Gallery
    The second principle, weighting a line, involves a transition in a line from a pale tone where the line is further away from the ground to a dark tone where the line is closest to the ground. In short, the principle is all about the artist varying the degree of light and shade in a line—usually the outcome of changing the pressure on the drawing instrument—to connote the sensation of gravity. A practical example of this type of line phrasing may be seen in Jean Jacques de Boissieu’s (1736–1810) L’Hiver, d’apres un dessin fait a Saint-Chamond [Winter, after a drawing by Saint-Chamond], 1795 shown below. Here a gnarly tree spans the composition with its upper branches touching the top of the image border and its trunk rooted close to the bottom border. The rendering of the tree itself is where the phrasing of line may be seen. In representing the uppermost tips of the branches de Boisseau employs very lightly inscribed lines to suggest an equivalent lightness in the branches’ physical weight but as the line work rendering the silhouette edges and surface contours of the tree’s trunk progresses towards the ground the marks become increasingly darker and stronger connoting the tree’s solid mass and weight (compare the details further below).

    Jean Jacques de Boissieu (1736–1810)
    L’Hiver, d’apres un dessin fait a Saint-Chamond
    [Winter, after a drawing by Saint-Chamond], 1795
    Etching on wove paper with chine appliqué
    26.5 x 19.5 cm (chine appliqué); 26.7 x 20 cm (plate); 29.2 x 22.2 cm (sheet)
    Perez: 98
    Condition: Strong impression with small margins and light pencil inscriptions of a dealer’s stock inventory details on verso otherwise pristine condition. I am selling this print for [deleted] 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.

    Details of L’Hiver showing changes in the attributes of the strokes


    In Alphonse Legros’ (1837–1911) masterly, Viel Espagnol [Old Spaniard] (shown below), the phrasing of each line reveals the artist’s active engagement in “feeling” out the figure’s form in terms of its contours and where the form is weighted. For instance, the swelling (i.e. bulging outwards) of each line from a faint beginning and back to an equally faint ending like a lanceolate leaf shape (i.e. a shape that is pointed at each end) gives form to the Spaniard’ gown as it lightly wraps around his front arm. This swelling, however, is not a perfunctory exercise. The point of maximum swelling in the lines is assigned to where the weight of the arm places tension on the fabric of the gown (see details of the lines further below). In essence, this subtle phrasing is the “secret” to using the principle of weight in a line meaningfully. 

    Alphonse Legros (1837–1911)
    Viel Espagnol [Old Spaniard], 1872
    Published in Portfolio, no.27, March 1872
    Etching on cream laid paper
    27.7 x 18.6 cm (plate); 34.7 x 24.5 cm (sheet)
    Condition: Marvellous impression in superb condition with generous margins and minimal handling marks. I am selling this print for [deleted] 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.
    Details of Viel Espagnol showing phrasing of line to connote weight

    The third principle, projecting a line, is closely linked to the phrased swelling of line that Legros employs in Viel Espangnol. What I mean by this is that his use of the swelling creates the illusion that the centres of the lines advance towards the viewer. Or to explain this in a different way, the principle of projecting a line as used by Legros is as simple as applying the rules of perspective: the larger the swelling and the darker and more opaque it is, the more it advances. An example of this phenomenon may be seen in the companion print to de Boisseau’s L’Hiver [Winter], Le Printemps, d’apres un dessin fait a Saint-Chamond [Spring, after a drawing by Saint-Chamond]. Here, the eye is directed into the distance by limbs of a weathered tree similar, but in a mirrored position, to the one featured in L’Hiver. In terms of de Boisseau’s phrasing of his lines to express spatial projection, I wish to draw attention to the tonal transition from fine marks at the distant ends of the far right branch to the dark tones and much stronger marks where this limb connects with the trunk of the tree (see details of this change further below).

    Jean Jacques de Boissieu (1736–1810)
    Le Printemps, d’apres un dessin fait a Saint-Chamond
    [Spring, after a drawing by Saint-Chamond], 1795
    Etching on wove paper
    26.4 x 19.6 cm (plate); 42.2 x 35 cm (sheet)
    Perez: 97
    Condition: Strong impression with wide margins and handling marks. I am selling this print for $210 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”


    This print has been sold

    Detail of Le Printemps showing a transition in line attributes from distance to foreground

    The final principle, squishing and stretching a line, has a long pedigree extending back to classical Greece with their sinuous S-shaped (contrapposto) pose for sculpture. The idea of compressing one side of the figure (usually by shifting the weight of the figure to one foot) and countering this compression further up the figure gives vitality to the figure by opposition of tensions. Importantly, however the spectacle of this opposition is inherent in how the artist portrays the complementary effects. In terms of phrasing a line, the physical state of compression is represented by a swelling line. Conversely, the notion of stretching is represented by a thinning line. Usually the use of these complementary effects is not a conscious decision but happens at an intuitive level.

    Like all good illustrators—especially cartoonists—the principle of squishing and stretching underpins their work. For example, in Paul Gustave Doré (1832–83) illustration There Minos Stands (Canto V., line 4) (shown below), note how the Mino’s biceps are drawn with a thick and very dark line whereas his triceps are drawn with a much finer line. This phrasing of line may also be seen in Minos’ forearm and hand (see details further below).


    designer) Paul Gustave Doré (1832–83);
    (engraver) Gaston Raymond Ernest Monvoisin
    There Minos Stands (Canto V., line 4) illustration for Dante’s Inferno
    Wood engraving

    This item has been sold
    (detail) There Minos Stands 
    (detail) There Minos Stands 
    (detail) There Minos Stands 

    Beyond employing this principle as a “natural” practice when drawing, the principle can, of course, be exaggerated to show feelings that go beyond the everyday world. In Käthe Kollwitz’s (1867–1945) powerful and very large etching, Die Pflüger [The Ploughmen] (shown below), the phrasing of line is a fundamental visual device in expressing the extreme physical stresses involved in ploughing. Of course this image is much more than an illustration of farmer labouring. This is an image of desperation and the phrasing of line signifies the almost superhuman tensions of pulling the plough underpinning the image. Note in particular the difference in treatment between the fine and straight lines representing the strain on the harness around the closer figures’ legs and the thicker contoured lines portraying the creases in his clothes (see details further below). 


    Käthe Kollwitz’s (1867–1945)
    Die Pflüger [The Ploughmen], 1906
    Plate #1 of the Bauernkrieg [Peasants’ War] series
    Etching, engraving, softground and commercial tonal grids
    With von der Becke blindstamp lower right
    31.5 x 45.4 cm (plate); 53.4 x 70 cm (sheet)
    Knesebeck: 99 Xlll b; Klipstein: 94
    Condition: superb impression in pristine condition. I am selling this print for $970 AUD including postage and handling to anywhere in the world. 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 are interested or click the “Buy Now.”

    This print has been sold
    Detail of Kollwitz’s Die Pflüger showing the squishing and stretching principle in the treatment of line