mere bad or feeble drawing, which makes mistakes in every direction at once, cannot teach you the particular sort of educated fallacy in question. But, in these designs of Flaxman’s, you have gentlemanly feeling, and fair knowledge of anatomy, and firm setting down of lines, all applied in the foolishest and worst possible way; you cannot have a more finished example of learned error, amiable want of meaning, and bad drawing with a steady hand. […]
“Finally, your judgment will be, of course, much affected by your taste in literature. Indeed, I know many persons who have the purest taste in literature, and yet false taste in art, and it is a phenomenon which puzzles me not a little; but I have never known anyone with false taste in books, and true taste in pictures. It is also of the greatest importance to you, not only for art’s sake, but for all kinds of sake, in these days of book deluge, to keep out of the salt swamps of literature, and live on a little rocky island of your own, with a spring and a lake in it, pure and good. I cannot, of course, suggest the choice of your library to you: every several mind needs different books; but there are some books which we all need, and assuredly, if you read Homer, Plato, Aeschylus, Herodotus, Dante, Shakespeare, and Spenser, as much as you ought, you will not require wide enlargement of shelves to right and left of them for purposes of perpetual study. Among modern books, avoid generally magazine and review literature. Sometimes it may contain a useful abridgement or a wholesome piece of criticism; but the chances are ten to one it will either waste your time or mislead you. If you want to understand any subject whatever, read the best book upon it you can hear of: not a review of the book. If you do not like the first book you try, seek another; but do not hope ever to understand the subject without pains, by a reviewer’s help. Avoid especially that class of literature which has a knowing tone […]. Then, in general, the more you can restrain your serious reading to reflective or lyric poetry, history, and natural history, avoiding fiction and the drama, the healthier your mind will become. Of modern poetry, keep to Scott, Wordsworth, Keats, Crabbe, Tennyson, the two Brownings, Thomas Hood, Lowell, Longfellow, and Coventry Patmore, whose “Angel in the House“ is a most finished piece of writing, and the sweetest analysis we possess of quiet modern domestic feeling; while Mrs. Browning’s “Aurora Leigh” is, as far as I know, the greatest poem which the century has produced in any language. Cast Coleridge at once aside, as sickly and useless; and Shelley, as shallow and verbose; Byron, until your taste is fully formed, and you are able to discern the magnificence in him from the wrong. Never read bad or common poetry, nor write any poetry yourself; there is, perhaps, rather too much than too little in the world already.
“Of reflective prose, read chiefly Bacon, Johnson, and Helps. Carlyle is hardly to be named as a writer for “beginners,” because his teaching, though to some of us vitally necessary, may to others be hurtful. If you understand and like him, read him; if he offends you, you are not yet ready for him, and perhaps may never be so; at all events, give him up, as you would sea-bathing if you found it hurt you, till you are stronger. Of fiction, read Sir Charles Grandison, Scott’s novels, Miss Edgeworth’s, and, if you are a young lady, Madame de Genlis’, the French Miss Edgeworth, making these, I mean, your constant companions. Of course you must, or will, read other books for amusement once or twice; but you will find that these have an element of perpetuity in them, existing in nothing else of their kind; while their peculiar quietness and repose of manner will also be of the greatest value in teaching you to feel the same characters in art. Read little at a time, trying to feel interest in little things, and reading not so much for the sake of the story as to get acquainted with the pleasant people into whose company these writers bring you. A common book will often give you much amusement, but it is only a noble book which will give you dear friends. Remember, also, that it is of less importance to you in your earlier years, that the books you read should be clever, than that they should be right. I do not mean oppressively or repulsively instructive; but that the thoughts they express should be just, and the feelings they excite generous. It is not necessary for you to read the wittiest or the most suggestive books: it is better, in general, to hear what is already known, and may be simply said. Much of the literature of the present day, though good to be read by persons of ripe age, has a tendency to agitate rather than confirm, and leaves its readers too frequently in a helpless or hopeless indignation, the worst possible state into which the mind of youth can be thrown. It may, indeed, become necessary for you, as you advance in life, to set your hand to things that need to be altered in the world, or apply your heart chiefly to what must be pitied in it, or condemned; but, for a young person, the safest temper is one of reverence, and the safest place one of obscurity. Certainly at present, and perhaps through all your life, your teachers are wisest when they make you content in quiet virtue, and that literature and art are best for you which point out, in common life, and in familiar things, the objects for hopeful labour, and for humble love.”
13th Century-14th Century
1. Villard de Honnecourt, 1190–1235, French, A Lion and a Porcupine, c. 1225–1240. Graphite enhanced with pen on parchment, 22 × 14 cm. Bibliothèque nationale de France, Paris. High Middle Ages.
Although it was written at a time when art was quickly shifting towards a whole new era, Cennino Cennini’s Trattato della pittura (1437) makes for a perfect summary of the artistic techniques of the Late Middle Ages, a kind of cookbook, as was typical of the centuries preceding the Renaissance. Presented here are a few of Cennini’s guidelines regarding drawing, as well as the author’s principles for the practice of art in general, some of which the modern reader will find curious, at the least:
“Chapter 8. In what manner you should begin to draw with a stile, and with what light. […] begin to draw with it from a copy as freely as you can, and so lightly that you can scarcely see what you have begun to do, deepening your strokes as you proceed, and going over them repeatedly, to make the shadows. Where you would make it darkest, go over it many times; and, on the contrary, make but few touches on the lights. And you must be guided by the light of the sun, and your eye, and your hand; and without these three things you can do nothing properly. Contrive always when you draw that the light be softened, and the sun strike on your left hand; and in this manner you should draw a short time every day, that you may not become tired or weary. […]
“Chapter 12. How, when drawing with a lead pencil, an error may be corrected. You may draw on paper also with the above-mentioned leaden stile, either with or without bone-dust; and if at any time you make an error, or you wish to remove any marks made by the leaden stile, take a crumb of bread, rub it over the paper, and efface whatever you please. And in the same manner you may shade with ink, or colours, or red tints, with the before-mentioned vehicle. […]
“Chapter 27. Showing how you should endeavour to draw and instruct yourself in design as much as you can. It is now requisite that you should copy from models, in order to attain the highest branches of the science. […] Having practised drawing a sufficient time on tablets, as I have before directed, always study and delight in drawing the best subjects which offer from the works of the great masters. If there are many good masters in the place where you live, so much the better for you. But I advise you always to select the best and most celebrated; and if you daily imitate this manner, it is scarcely possible but that you will acquire it; for if you copy today from this master and tomorrow from that, you will not acquire the manner of either; and as the different style of each master unsettles your mind, your own manner will become fantastic. If you will study this manner today and that tomorrow, you must of necessity copy neither perfectly; but if you continually adopt the manner of one master, your intellect must be very dull indeed if you do not find something to nourish it. And it will happen that if nature has bestowed on you any invention, you will acquire a manner of your own, which cannot be other than good, because your hand and your understanding being always accustomed to gather flowers, will always avoid the thorns.
“Chapter 28. How you should draw continually from nature, as well as from the masters. Remember that the most perfect guide that you can have and the best direction is to draw from nature: it is the best of all possible examples, and with a bold heart you may always trust to it, especially when you begin to have some knowledge of design. And continuing always