Читать книгу The Art of Illustration - Blackburn Henry - Страница 6

HERE are, broadly speaking, two kinds of engraving for illustration in books, which are widely distinct—1. intaglio; 2. relievo. The first comprises all engravings, etchings, and photogravures in which the lines are cut or indented by acid or other means, into a steel or copper plate—a system employed, with many variations of method, from the time of Mantegna, Albert Dürer, Holbein and Rembrandt, to the French and English etchers of the present day. Engravings thus produced are little used in modern book illustration, as they cannot be printed easily on the same page as the letterpress; these planches à part, as the French term them, are costly to print and are suitable only for limited editions.

In the second, or ordinary form of illustration, the lines or pictures to be printed are left in relief; the design being generally made on wood with a pencil, and the parts not drawn upon cut away. This was the rudimentary and almost universal form of book-illustration, as practised in the fifteenth century, as revived in England by Bewick in the eighteenth, and continued to the present day. The blocks thus prepared can be printed rapidly on ordinary printing-presses, and on the same page as the text.

During the past few years so many processes have been put forward for producing drawings in relief, for printing with the type, that it has become a business in itself to test and understand them. The best known process is still wood engraving, at least it is the best for the fac-simile reproduction of drawings, as at present understood in England, whether they be drawn direct upon the wood or transmitted by photography. There is no process in relief which has the same certainty, which gives the same colour and brightness, and by which gradation of tone can be more truly rendered.

As to the relative value of the different photographic relief processes, that can only be decided by experts. Speaking generally, I may say that there are six or seven now in use, each of which is, I am informed, the best, and all of which are adapted for printing in the same manner as a wood-block.1 Improvements in these processes are being made so rapidly that what was best yesterday will not be the best to-morrow, and it is a subject which is still little understood.

In the present book it is proposed to speak principally of the more popular form of illustration (relievo); but the changes which are taking place in all forms of engraving and illustration render it necessary to say a few words first upon intaglio. We have heard much of the “painter-etchers,” and of the claims of the etchers to recognition as original artists; and at the annual exhibition of the Society of Painter-Etchers in London, we have seen examples in which the effects produced in black and white seemed more allied to the painter’s art than to the engraver’s. But we are considering engraving as a means of interpreting the work of others, rather than as an original art.

The influence of photography is felt in nearly every department of illustration. The new photo-mechanical methods of engraving, without the aid of the engraver, have rendered drawing for fac-simile reproduction of more importance than ever; and the wonderful invention called photogravure, in which an engraving is made direct from an oil painting, is almost superseding handwork.2

No. II.

“Ashes of Roses,” by G. H. Boughton, A.R.A.

This careful drawing, from the painting by Mr. Boughton, in the Royal Academy, reproduced by the Dawson process, is interesting for variety of treatment and indication of textures in pen and ink. It is like the picture, but it has also the individuality of the draughtsman, as in line engraving.

Size of drawing about 6½ x 3½ in.

“BADMINTON IN THE STUDIO.” (FROM THE PAINTING BY R. W. MACBETH, A.R.A.)

(Royal Academy, 1891.)

The art of line-engraving is disappearing in England, giving way to the “painter-etchers,” the “dry-point” etchers and the “mezzotint engravers,” and, finally, to photogravure, a method of engraving which is so extraordinary, and so little understood (although it has been in constant use for more than ten years), that it may be worth while to explain, in a few words, the method as practised by Messrs. Boussod, Valadon & Co., successors to Goupil, of Paris.

In the Royal Academy Exhibition of 1882, Sir Frederick Leighton’s picture called “Wedded” will be remembered by many visitors. This picture was purchased for Australia, and had to be sent from England within a few weeks of the closing of the exhibition. There was no time to make an engraving, or even an etching satisfactorily, and so the picture was sent to Messrs. Goupil, who in a few weeks produced the photogravure, as it is called, which we see in the printsellers’ windows to this day. The operation is roughly as follows:—First, a photograph is taken direct from the picture; then a carbon print is taken from the negative upon glass, which rests upon the surface in delicate relief. From this print a cast is taken in reverse in copper, by placing the glass in a galvanic bath, the deposit of copper upon the glass taking the impression of the picture as certainly as snow takes the pattern of the ground upon which it falls. Thus—omitting details, and certain “secrets” of the process—it may be seen how modern science has superseded much of the engraver’s work, and how a mechanical process can produce in a few days that which formerly took years.

What the permanent art-estimate of “photo-engraving” may be, as a substitute for hand-work, is a question for the collectors of engravings and etchings. In the meantime, it is well that the public should know what a photogravure is, as distinct from an engraving. The system of mechanical engraving, in the reproduction of pictures, is spreading rapidly over the world; but it should be observed that these reproductions are not uniformly successful. One painter’s method of handling lends itself more readily than that of another to mechanical engraving. Thus the work of the President of the Royal Academy would reproduce better than that of Mr. G. F. Watts or Mr. Orchardson. That the actual marks of the brush, the very texture of the painting, can be transferred to copper and steel, and multiplied ad infinitum by this beautiful process, is a fact to which many English artists are keenly alive. The process has its limits, of course, and photogravure has at present to be assisted to a considerable extent by the engraver. But enough has been done in the last few years to prove that photography will henceforth take up the painter’s handiwork as he leaves it, and thus the importance of thoroughness and completeness on the part of the painter has to be more than ever insisted upon by the publishers of “engravings.”

A word may be useful here to explain that the coloured “photogravures,” reproducing the washes of colour in a painting or water-colour drawing, of which we see so many in Paris, are not coloured by hand in the ordinary way, but are produced complete, at one impression, from the printing-press. The colours are laid upon the plate, one by one, by the printer, by a system of stencilling; and thus an almost perfect fac-simile of a picture can be reproduced in pure colour, if the original is simple and broad in treatment.

No. III.

“A Son of Pan,” by William Padgett.

Example of outline drawing, put in solidly with a brush. If this had been done with pencil or autographic chalk, much of the feeling and expression of the original would have been lost. The drawing has suffered slightly in reproduction, where (as in the shadows on the neck and hands) the lines were pale in the original.

Size of drawing 11½ × 6½ in. Zinc process.

“HOME BY THE FERRY.” (FROM THE PAINTING BY EDWARD STOTT.)

(Royal Academy, 1891.)

One other point of interest and importance to collectors of engravings and etchings should be mentioned. Within the last few years, an invention for coating the surface of engraved plates with a film of steel (which can be renewed as often as necessary) renders the surface practically indestructible; and it is now possible to print a thousand impressions from a copper plate without injury or loss of quality. These modern inventions are no secrets, they have been described repeatedly in technical journals and in lectures, notably in those delivered during the past few years at the Society of Arts, and published in the Journal. But the majority of the public, and even many collectors of prints and etchings, are ignorant of the number of copies which can now be taken without deterioration from one plate.

It is necessary to the art amateur that he should know something of these things, if only to explain why it is that scratching on a copper plate has come so much into vogue in England lately, and why there has been such a remarkable revival of the art of Dürer at the end of this century. The reason for the movement will be better understood when it is explained that by the process just referred to, of “steeling” the surface of plates, the “burr,” as it is called, and the most delicate lines of the engraver are preserved intact for a much larger number of impressions than formerly. The taste for etchings and the higher forms of the reproductive arts is still spreading rapidly, but the fact remains that etchings and éditions de luxe do not reach one person in a thousand in any civilised community. It is only by means of wood engravings, and the cheaper and simpler forms of process illustration, that the public is appealed to pictorially through the press.