DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.42850#0064
A SPUR OF BEN LOMOND.
No. II.
milE few forms of which this subject is' composed are much varied in respect of lines, every portion
JL of them partaking1 of undulations, with the exception of the central spur of Ben Lomond and the
several detached and fallen rocks from the water’s brink. The serpentine outlines of the many divisions
of grassy mounds seem to play into each other in easy and graceful contours, while, at the same time, they
admit of considerable alternation of light, shade, and colour, Opposed to them are the perpendicular trees,
which rise in some significant height before the background, and convey to it the idea of softened and
hazy atmosphere. Their stems are all of different length, breadth, and inclination, thereby affording little
chance of formality. The position of each stem at its junction with the ground will be found to bear the line
of beauty, and help to show the several progressive stages of distance in their immediate locality. This point
is seldom attended to with the proper degree of thought or care that it ought, although by a due observance
of the varied lines of a foreground, the eye is led on step by step until it finds itself carried into the
middle distance, and, receding still further, becomes lost in a far-off haze.
This mingling is often the result of well-disposed lines, growing, as it were, out of each other, and so
skilfully intertwined that none but the artist would suppose the effect could proceed from such a primitive
cause. It is nevertheless perfectly true that distance is frequently more the result of lines than of colour,
although, of course, the latter must ever be the true interpreter of the former. The groups of trees at the
end of the loch are also of different sizes and forms, but so managed as to carry out the flowing undulations
in the composition of lines. This is obtained by having reference to the several heights, to which particular
attention is called. The stones at the water’s edge in the foreground are arranged somewhat in the form
of an ellipse, and yet so varied in size and form as to preclude the possibility of such an impression.
The angular shape of the central mountain is, by contrast to the curved lines below, made to rise up with
increased grandeur, and is suggestive of bleak and rugged wildness. Its height is made more apparent
from the trees by the water, over the stones, being placed immediately underneath the summit, thus giving
its full dimensions from the base. The dark, or rather blue range of hills below, in front, assist by their
continuity in giving a certain impressiveness to the one solid mass; while the outline of the distant mountain, so
different in character, still adds to the precipitous and rocky steeps of the principal object of interest. One
particular more I would wish to be well noticed, and that is the form of the long soft cloud above the mountain.
If it were of any other shape than it is, it would necessarily have attracted undue attention, whereas by its
simple, though slightly broken horizontal line, both mountains have their peculiarities strongly and clearly
developed. Thus far have I thought it necessary to speak of the manner in which the several lines of
the picture are composed, and how these in their varieties obtain value the one from the other. It is
from the want of study in this individual branch of the art that much real pleasure in the contemplation
of Nature or of a picture is lost. The intention in the working out of the scene too frequently escapes
general observers, who, as a rule, do not imagine for one moment that the principles of art run so deep
as to call forth the most intense efforts of the mind before they can be presented in all their excellence,
and convey a just and reasonable idea of Nature—of Nature under her many garbs — of Nature in her
numberless and varied effects.
With regard to colour, a general warmth pervades the whole drawing, which is cheered by the line
of small blue hills in the middle distance. This blue tint must not be too suddenly introduced, otherwise
it would be unharmonising, if I may use the term; but rather should it be insinuated upon the purply
tone of which the general mass of shadow is composed. This blue tone is also carried into the lower and
II
No. II.
milE few forms of which this subject is' composed are much varied in respect of lines, every portion
JL of them partaking1 of undulations, with the exception of the central spur of Ben Lomond and the
several detached and fallen rocks from the water’s brink. The serpentine outlines of the many divisions
of grassy mounds seem to play into each other in easy and graceful contours, while, at the same time, they
admit of considerable alternation of light, shade, and colour, Opposed to them are the perpendicular trees,
which rise in some significant height before the background, and convey to it the idea of softened and
hazy atmosphere. Their stems are all of different length, breadth, and inclination, thereby affording little
chance of formality. The position of each stem at its junction with the ground will be found to bear the line
of beauty, and help to show the several progressive stages of distance in their immediate locality. This point
is seldom attended to with the proper degree of thought or care that it ought, although by a due observance
of the varied lines of a foreground, the eye is led on step by step until it finds itself carried into the
middle distance, and, receding still further, becomes lost in a far-off haze.
This mingling is often the result of well-disposed lines, growing, as it were, out of each other, and so
skilfully intertwined that none but the artist would suppose the effect could proceed from such a primitive
cause. It is nevertheless perfectly true that distance is frequently more the result of lines than of colour,
although, of course, the latter must ever be the true interpreter of the former. The groups of trees at the
end of the loch are also of different sizes and forms, but so managed as to carry out the flowing undulations
in the composition of lines. This is obtained by having reference to the several heights, to which particular
attention is called. The stones at the water’s edge in the foreground are arranged somewhat in the form
of an ellipse, and yet so varied in size and form as to preclude the possibility of such an impression.
The angular shape of the central mountain is, by contrast to the curved lines below, made to rise up with
increased grandeur, and is suggestive of bleak and rugged wildness. Its height is made more apparent
from the trees by the water, over the stones, being placed immediately underneath the summit, thus giving
its full dimensions from the base. The dark, or rather blue range of hills below, in front, assist by their
continuity in giving a certain impressiveness to the one solid mass; while the outline of the distant mountain, so
different in character, still adds to the precipitous and rocky steeps of the principal object of interest. One
particular more I would wish to be well noticed, and that is the form of the long soft cloud above the mountain.
If it were of any other shape than it is, it would necessarily have attracted undue attention, whereas by its
simple, though slightly broken horizontal line, both mountains have their peculiarities strongly and clearly
developed. Thus far have I thought it necessary to speak of the manner in which the several lines of
the picture are composed, and how these in their varieties obtain value the one from the other. It is
from the want of study in this individual branch of the art that much real pleasure in the contemplation
of Nature or of a picture is lost. The intention in the working out of the scene too frequently escapes
general observers, who, as a rule, do not imagine for one moment that the principles of art run so deep
as to call forth the most intense efforts of the mind before they can be presented in all their excellence,
and convey a just and reasonable idea of Nature—of Nature under her many garbs — of Nature in her
numberless and varied effects.
With regard to colour, a general warmth pervades the whole drawing, which is cheered by the line
of small blue hills in the middle distance. This blue tint must not be too suddenly introduced, otherwise
it would be unharmonising, if I may use the term; but rather should it be insinuated upon the purply
tone of which the general mass of shadow is composed. This blue tone is also carried into the lower and
II