This book, undeniably interesting, is a very dense document. It is impeccably presented with plenty of colour plates. I shudder to think how it could be contextualised in an era where that kind of printing was too expensive to contemplate. In truth it lost me at times, particularly in the last chapter and the twentieth century. It also seemed to end very abruptly, with no concluding chapter or summing-up. Each chapter was an essay in itself, only connected to the rest by the overarching subject matter (and ‘colour’, as a subject matter, is pretty broad). I found the chapters about, say, the medieval symbology of colour far more appealing than Mondrian’s justification for pre-empting screensavers.
Facts:
Metamerism: colours appear different under different lights.
Apelles, in the fourth century, was the first to be attributed a four-colour palette of black, white, red and yellow.
An 18th century scholar calculated you could get 819 colorus from these.
Greek and Roman artists didn’t mix colours on the palette. Instead they did superimposed hatching.
The colour circle came out of scales for measuring the colour of urine.
Quotes:
‘At exactly this time the philosopher John of Salisbury developed a radical notion that art is a transformer of nature, improving on nature’s own methods by her methodon, or purposeful plan, ‘which avoids nature’s wastefulness and straightens out her circuitous wanderings.’’
Marsilio Ficino, ‘the experience of the light of Heaven itself had become an experience of laughter: ‘What is light in the heavens? Abundance of life from the angels, unfolding of power from the heaven, and laughter of the sky.’
Alberti: ‘If some indulgence must be given to error, then those who use black extravagantly are less to be blamed than those who employ white somewhat intemperately.’
Leonardo: Stain the paper medium dark, put in the darkest shades, then the principal lights in little spots, which are those first lost to the eye at a short distance.
El Greco: ‘Michaelangelo was a fine chap but did not know how to paint.’
George Sarton: ‘Ancient Alchemy and Abstract Art [...] a treasure of nonsense available to every irrational endeavour.’ Nowadays we might be inclined to substitute economists for abstract artists and invoke the occult power of the market.
Odile Redon: ‘His palette [...] is doubtless incomplete when he asks of it that fundamental grey which distinguishes the masters, expresses them and is the soul of all colour.’
Goethe: ‘Painting is truer for the eye than reality itself. It presents what man would like to see and should see, not what he habitually sees.’
‘Black, said Cassagne, was the most fundamental colour in nature, entering into all three primaries to form an infinite variety of greys, those greys which were an important feature of van Gogh’s palette in Holland and with which he was still seeking to come to terms in Arles.’
Gauguin: ‘Seek for harmony and not contrast, for what accords, not what clashes. It is the eye of ignorance that assigns a fixed and unchangeable colour to every object: as I have said to you, beware of this stumbling block.’
‘One of the assumptions developed [by Blue Reiter] was that at the level of sensual apprehension, pleasure in bright, saturated colour was common to all periods and peoples and that only the higher levels of aesthetic appreciation were the result of acculturation.’
Goethe: ‘From these three, light, shade and colour, we construct the visible world, and thus, at the same time, make painting possible, an art which has the power of producing on a flat surface a much more perfect visible world than the actual one can be.’
Field: ‘the inferior materials of the Old Masters meant that their key of colouring was necessarily lower, and compelled them to harmonise much below nature.’