In all battles two things are usually required of the
Commander-in-Chief: to make a good plan for his army and to keep
a strong reserve. Both of these are also obligatory for the painter.
To make a plan, thorough reconnaissance of the country where the
battle is to be fought is needed. Its fields, its mountains, its rivers,
its bridges, its trees, its flowers, its atmosphere—all require and
repay attentive observation from a special point of view.
I think this is one of the chief delights that have come to me through
painting. No doubt many people who are lovers of art have acquired
it to a high degree without actually practicing. But I expect that
nothing will make one observe more quickly or more thoroughly than
having to face the difficulty of representing the thing observed.
And mind you, if you do observe accurately and with refinement,
and if you do record what you have seen with tolerable
correspondence, the result follows on the canvas with startling
obedience.
But in order to make his plan, the General must not only reconnoitre
the battle-ground; he must also study the achievements of the great
Captains of the past. He must bring the observations he has collected
in the field into comparison with the treatment of similar incidents by
famous chiefs.
Considering this fact, the galleries of Europe take on a new—and to
me at least — a severely practical interest. You see the difficulty that
baffled you yesterday; and you see how easily it has been overcome
by a great or even by a skilful painter. Not only is your observation
of Nature sensibly improved and developed, but also your
comprehension of the masterpieces of art.
But it is in the use and withholding of their reserves that the great
commanders have generally excelled. After all, when once the last
reserve has been thrown in, the commander‘s part is played. If that
does not win the battle, he has nothing else to give. Everything
must be left to luck and to the fighting troops. But these last
reserves, in the absence of high direction, are apt to get into sad
confusion, all mixed together in a nasty mess, without order or
plan—and consequently without effect.
Mere masses count no more. The largest brush, the brightest
colours cannot even make an impression. The pictorial battlefield
becomes a sea of mud mercifully veiled by the fog of war. Even
though the General plunges in himself and emerges bespattered, as
he sometimes does, he will not retrieve the day. In painting, the
reserves consist in Proportion or Relation. And it is here that the art
of the painter marches along the road which is traversed by all the
greatest harmonies in thought. At one side of the palette there is white,
at the other black; and neither is ever used 'neat.' Between these two
rigid limits all the action must lie, all the power required must be
generated. Black and white themselves placed in juxtaposition make no
great impression; and yet they are the most that you can do in
pure contrast.
Commander-in-Chief: to make a good plan for his army and to keep
a strong reserve. Both of these are also obligatory for the painter.
To make a plan, thorough reconnaissance of the country where the
battle is to be fought is needed. Its fields, its mountains, its rivers,
its bridges, its trees, its flowers, its atmosphere—all require and
repay attentive observation from a special point of view.
I think this is one of the chief delights that have come to me through
painting. No doubt many people who are lovers of art have acquired
it to a high degree without actually practicing. But I expect that
nothing will make one observe more quickly or more thoroughly than
having to face the difficulty of representing the thing observed.
And mind you, if you do observe accurately and with refinement,
and if you do record what you have seen with tolerable
correspondence, the result follows on the canvas with startling
obedience.
But in order to make his plan, the General must not only reconnoitre
the battle-ground; he must also study the achievements of the great
Captains of the past. He must bring the observations he has collected
in the field into comparison with the treatment of similar incidents by
famous chiefs.
Considering this fact, the galleries of Europe take on a new—and to
me at least — a severely practical interest. You see the difficulty that
baffled you yesterday; and you see how easily it has been overcome
by a great or even by a skilful painter. Not only is your observation
of Nature sensibly improved and developed, but also your
comprehension of the masterpieces of art.
But it is in the use and withholding of their reserves that the great
commanders have generally excelled. After all, when once the last
reserve has been thrown in, the commander‘s part is played. If that
does not win the battle, he has nothing else to give. Everything
must be left to luck and to the fighting troops. But these last
reserves, in the absence of high direction, are apt to get into sad
confusion, all mixed together in a nasty mess, without order or
plan—and consequently without effect.
Mere masses count no more. The largest brush, the brightest
colours cannot even make an impression. The pictorial battlefield
becomes a sea of mud mercifully veiled by the fog of war. Even
though the General plunges in himself and emerges bespattered, as
he sometimes does, he will not retrieve the day. In painting, the
reserves consist in Proportion or Relation. And it is here that the art
of the painter marches along the road which is traversed by all the
greatest harmonies in thought. At one side of the palette there is white,
at the other black; and neither is ever used 'neat.' Between these two
rigid limits all the action must lie, all the power required must be
generated. Black and white themselves placed in juxtaposition make no
great impression; and yet they are the most that you can do in
pure contrast.
...
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