The Fisher Boy. Frans Hals.
To show the directness and sureness of brush-stroke, and candor and simplicity of means, always present in Dutch work, though never so free as with Hals. [on page 217]

There is nothing like it elsewhere. Study it; notice the unaffectedness of brush-stroke in Rembrandt. See how it is the same as Hals, but less perfunctory. See how the brush piles up paint again and again along the same ridge of flesh, taking no notice of its revelation of the insistence of attempt at the right value, nor of its roughness of surface. To get that drawing and that color in the freeest, frankest, most direct way: that is the aim. The absolute conviction of it: that is the essence of this technique of the old Dutch masters. And whatever else it may have or may not have, you will find in it all that you can find anywhere of suggestion of direct and frank and sincere painting, and nothing I can say will give you [219] any such clear idea of what you should strive for as the basis of all the different sorts of brush-work necessary or useful in the production of an oil painting.

Detail. — The question of detail may well come in here. How far are you to carry detail in your painting? The Dutch painters went to both extremes. Gérard Don worked two weeks on a broom-handle, and hoped to finish it in a few days more. Frans Hals would paint a head in an hour. The French painter Meissonier paints the high light on every button of a trooper's coat, and De Neuville barely paints the button at all. What way are you to turn? Which are you to choose? We have a great deal said nowadays against detail in painting. Much is said of breadth and broad painting. Which is right?

True Breadth. — The answer lies in the central idea of the picture. There are times when detail may be very minute, and times when the greatest freedom is essential. True breadth is compatible with much even minute detail in the same canvas. For breadth does not mean merely a large brush. It never means slap-dash. It is the just conception of the amount of detail necessary (and the amount necessary to be left out) in order that the idea of the picture may be best expressed.

Detail is out of place in a large canvas always, and in proportion to its size it is allowable. A [220] decorative canvas, a picture which is to be seen from a distance, or is to fill a wall space, wants effect, much justness of composition and color. Largeness of conception and execution, and only so much detail as shall be necessary to the best expression compatible with that largeness. On the other hand, a “cabinet picture,” a small panel, will admit of microscopic detail if it be not so painted that the detail is all you can see. And just here is the heart of the whole matter. Whether you use much or little detail, it is not for the sake of the detail, not for any interest which lies in the detail itself, but for what power of expression may lie in it. If the picture, large or small, be largely conceived, and its main idea as to subject and those qualities of æsthetic meaning I have spoken of are always kept in view, and never allowed to lose themselves in the search for minuteness, then any amount of detail will take its place in true relation to the whole picture. If it does not do this it is bad.

The relations of parts to the whole are the key to the situation always.

Nothing is right which interferes with the true relations in the picture. This is where the working for detail is most likely to lead you astray. It takes great ability and power to keep detail where it belongs. Detail is always the search for small things, and they are almost sure to obtrude themselves [223] to the neglecting of the more important things. Details which do not stay in their places had better be left out of the picture. There is such a thing as values in facts as well as other parts of your work. And this applies to breadth as well as to detail.

Boar-Hunt. Snyder.
To show relation of detail to the whole picture. The detail is carried far, yet does not interfere with emphasis of action of life. The picture is borad in spirit and effect if detailed in execution. [on page 221]

Gerard Dou remains a great painter, and even a broad painter, strange as it may sound, in spite of his microscopic work. But only because of his breadth of eye. The detail is not the most important thing with him. It is in the picture, and you can see it when you look for it. But as you look at the picture it is not peppered all over with pin-points of detail, until the picture itself cannot be seen. Every detail stays back as it would in nature; loses itself in the part to which it belongs; modestly waits to be sought out; is not seen until it is looked for. This is broad painting, because the main things are emphasized; and if the details are painted they are seen in their true relations, and the power of the whole is not sacrificed to them.

With much or little detail, this is what is to be aimed at. Whether with big brushes or little ones, the expression of the main idea, of the important, the vital things, — this is broad painting, and this only. [224]

CHAPTER XXIII

MANIPULATION

Premier Coup. — Something similar to what I have spoken of as “direct painting” has long been a much-advocated manner of painting in France, under the name of Premier Coup; which means, translated literally, “first stroke.”

It is taught that the painter should use no after or overworkings at all; but that he should carefully and deliberately select the color for his brushstroke, and then lay it on the canvas at one stroke, each after-stroke being laid beside some previous one, until the canvas has been covered by a mosaic of color each shade representing a single “first-stroke,” with no after-stroke laid over it to modify its effect. Such a process tends to great deliberation of work and exactness of study. Probably no better thing was ever devised for the training of the eye and hand. But it has its limits, and is not often rigidly adhered to in the painting of pictures; although the fresh, direct effect of this sort of work is preserved as far as possible in much modern French work, and that quality is held in great esteem. [225]

This manner of painting is especially useful in the making of sketches and studies, and leads to a strong control of the brush and the resources of the palette.

In all painting of this character the color should have body. Transparent color should not be used alone, but only to modify the tint of the more solid pigments; for the transparent colors used indiscriminately are apt to crack, which characteristic is avoided when the heavier color forms the body of the paint.

Solid Painting. — In most cases solid painting is the safest, — the least likely to crack, and the most safely cleaned from varnish and dirt without injury to the paint itself. It is firmer in character too, and gives more solidity of effect to the picture.

Mixing. — In mixing colors you should be careful not to over mix. Don't stir your paint. Too much mixing takes the life out of the color. Particles of the pure color not too much broken up by mixing are valuable to your work, giving vibration and brilliancy to it. The reverse is mud-diness, which is sure to come from too much fussing and overworking of wet paint. Don't use more than three pigments in one tint if you can help it, and mix them loosely. If you must use more colors, mix still more loosely. Put all the colors together, one beside the other, drag them [226] together with the brush, scoop them up loosely on the end of it, and lay the tint on freely and frankly. Never muddle the color on the canvas. Don't put one color over another more than you can help; you will only get a thick mass of paint of one kind mixing with a mass of another, and the result will be dirty color, which of all things in painting is most useless.

Keep the color clean and fresh, and have your brush-strokes firm and free. Never tap, tap, tap, your paint; make up your mind what the color is, and mix it as you want it. Decide just where the touch is to go, and lay it on frankly and fairly, and leave it. If it isn't right, daubing into it or pat-patting it won't help it. Either leave it, or mix a new color, and lay it on after having scraped this one off.

Don't try to economize on your mixing. A color mixed for one place will never do for another, so don't try to paint another place with it. Have the patience to proceed slowly, and mix the color specially for each brush-stroke. On the other hand, don't be niggardly with your paint. Don't use less paint than you need. Mix an ample brushful and put it on; then mix another, and use judgment as to how much you should use each time. The variety of tone and value which comes of mixing new color for every touch of the brush is in itself a charm in a painting, aside from the greater truth you are likely to get by it. [227]