DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.42850#0029
ON LOCH LOMOND.
IN introducing1 to the notice of the reader the following hints for sketching from Nature, I must he
clearly understood as by no means pretending to have discovered any “ royal road " to the acquisition
of the whole art and mystery of water-colour painting. Like the poet, the painter must, I apprehend, be
“horn, not madej” and not even the most naturally gifted, as respects taste and intelligence, may hope
to attain to more than a moderate skill without such a devotion of time as the successful pursuit of every
other profession requires of those who embrace it. There are, however, thousands of those who take their
pleasure by hill and river, who have neither the poetic “ afflatus/'’ nor the aspiration to be professed artists;
and to whom a rudimentary knowledge of sketching in colour would be a highly-prized acquirement. To
such as these I now address myself.
Apart from its utility, there is perhaps no accomplishment more to be desired than the ability to sketch
from Nature, and so to transfer to paper, when opportunity offers, some of her choicest scenes. It gives an
additional zest to travel, and adds, in a peculiar manner, to the intelligent traveller's store of information.
For it is impossible to put pencil to paper without being struck by the perfection and completeness of
objects before us: and we can imitate none of Nature's forms without an elevating appreciation of their
character, construction, and purpose. Art should ever go hand in hand with Nature, to which it should
attach itself closely, as to an infallible guide. Every principle of Art is dictated by, and drawn from Nature ;
and, so soon as the hand of the guide is dropped, Art will, I submit, cease to excite and gratify the intelli-
gence of a Nature-loving student. This proposition I think none will assail; all, indeed, must acquiesce in it.
The first precept, therefore, I would address to my student reader is, that, however slight a sketch from Nature
may be, it must be a faithful transcript of the scene or object sketched, without conventionality of any kind.
A “ sketch from Nature" should imply such a representation of the scene as will give a general
impression of it without over much detail, and yet without any such omission as might alter the character
or injure the effect produced on the mind. But to secure this generalisation without loss of resemblance,
an educated eye, a practised hand, and a thorough knowledge of the forms under treatment, are necessary.
A “study from Nature" is a different thing, demanding the strictest attention to every part, with literal
truthfulness in the whole as well as in each part.
The first thing to be determined in a sketch is the position of the Horizontal Line. This must be
faintly drawn across the paper, and the lines of every object above or below, and not parallel to it, must
incline to some point on it. Of course, a certain knowledge of Perspective is essential, and the student
must acquire it before he can hope to sketch successfully.
To sketch in the outline correctly, it is necessary to observe very attentively the peculiar angles and
position of the several objects to be drawn, in order that a truthful direction may be given to every line.
All forms deviating from right lines—horizontal and perpendicular—assume certain angles, and upon a just
appreciation of these angles the whole correctness of character must depend.
The relative position of the various objects in the field of view being once indicated (first lines should
only be “indications"), the undulations or broken outlines, that certain of them may present, should be
given, great care being taken against exaggeration,—an error of constant occurrence. It is not sufficient
to give the outside lines only, because these are almost always the result of irregularities of surface, which
claim to be themselves represented by lines of their own. For instance, the broken character of a mountain's
fop or side is due to the several masses of rock rearing their ragged heads at different elevations. These
masses—if of any size, and in light—should be made to show whence they spring, and thus to express the
actual character, or, as I may say, construction of the entire mountain. Character of surface, again, is
requisite to give character of distance. A little eminence protruding from a mass often tells, with immense
power, by throwing the more distant scenery far—very far—backward. Unfortunately, amateurs too often
undertake to sketch subjects beyond their power; and, in the attempt to take in a multiplicity of objects,
lose patience, become careless, and so end by giving but a vague idea of the landscape. Far better would
it be to divide the scene, and to make three sketches instead of one.
D
IN introducing1 to the notice of the reader the following hints for sketching from Nature, I must he
clearly understood as by no means pretending to have discovered any “ royal road " to the acquisition
of the whole art and mystery of water-colour painting. Like the poet, the painter must, I apprehend, be
“horn, not madej” and not even the most naturally gifted, as respects taste and intelligence, may hope
to attain to more than a moderate skill without such a devotion of time as the successful pursuit of every
other profession requires of those who embrace it. There are, however, thousands of those who take their
pleasure by hill and river, who have neither the poetic “ afflatus/'’ nor the aspiration to be professed artists;
and to whom a rudimentary knowledge of sketching in colour would be a highly-prized acquirement. To
such as these I now address myself.
Apart from its utility, there is perhaps no accomplishment more to be desired than the ability to sketch
from Nature, and so to transfer to paper, when opportunity offers, some of her choicest scenes. It gives an
additional zest to travel, and adds, in a peculiar manner, to the intelligent traveller's store of information.
For it is impossible to put pencil to paper without being struck by the perfection and completeness of
objects before us: and we can imitate none of Nature's forms without an elevating appreciation of their
character, construction, and purpose. Art should ever go hand in hand with Nature, to which it should
attach itself closely, as to an infallible guide. Every principle of Art is dictated by, and drawn from Nature ;
and, so soon as the hand of the guide is dropped, Art will, I submit, cease to excite and gratify the intelli-
gence of a Nature-loving student. This proposition I think none will assail; all, indeed, must acquiesce in it.
The first precept, therefore, I would address to my student reader is, that, however slight a sketch from Nature
may be, it must be a faithful transcript of the scene or object sketched, without conventionality of any kind.
A “ sketch from Nature" should imply such a representation of the scene as will give a general
impression of it without over much detail, and yet without any such omission as might alter the character
or injure the effect produced on the mind. But to secure this generalisation without loss of resemblance,
an educated eye, a practised hand, and a thorough knowledge of the forms under treatment, are necessary.
A “study from Nature" is a different thing, demanding the strictest attention to every part, with literal
truthfulness in the whole as well as in each part.
The first thing to be determined in a sketch is the position of the Horizontal Line. This must be
faintly drawn across the paper, and the lines of every object above or below, and not parallel to it, must
incline to some point on it. Of course, a certain knowledge of Perspective is essential, and the student
must acquire it before he can hope to sketch successfully.
To sketch in the outline correctly, it is necessary to observe very attentively the peculiar angles and
position of the several objects to be drawn, in order that a truthful direction may be given to every line.
All forms deviating from right lines—horizontal and perpendicular—assume certain angles, and upon a just
appreciation of these angles the whole correctness of character must depend.
The relative position of the various objects in the field of view being once indicated (first lines should
only be “indications"), the undulations or broken outlines, that certain of them may present, should be
given, great care being taken against exaggeration,—an error of constant occurrence. It is not sufficient
to give the outside lines only, because these are almost always the result of irregularities of surface, which
claim to be themselves represented by lines of their own. For instance, the broken character of a mountain's
fop or side is due to the several masses of rock rearing their ragged heads at different elevations. These
masses—if of any size, and in light—should be made to show whence they spring, and thus to express the
actual character, or, as I may say, construction of the entire mountain. Character of surface, again, is
requisite to give character of distance. A little eminence protruding from a mass often tells, with immense
power, by throwing the more distant scenery far—very far—backward. Unfortunately, amateurs too often
undertake to sketch subjects beyond their power; and, in the attempt to take in a multiplicity of objects,
lose patience, become careless, and so end by giving but a vague idea of the landscape. Far better would
it be to divide the scene, and to make three sketches instead of one.
D