: Fig. 288.]
Note that the door itself is quite luminous, and lighted up by the
reflection of the sun from the tiled floor, so that the bars in the
upper part throw distinct shadows, besides the mystery of colour thus
introduced. The little window to the left, though not admitting much
direct sunlight, is evidence of the brilliant glare outside; for the
reflected light is very conspicuous on the top and on the shutters on
each side; indeed they cast distinct shadows up and down, while some
clear daylight from the blue sky is reflected on the window-sill. As to
the sink, the table, the wash-tubs, &c., although they seem in strong
light and shade they really receive little or no direct light from a
single point; but from the strong reflected light re-reflected into them
from the wall of the doorway. There are many other things in such
effects as this which the artist will observe, and which can only be
studied from real light and shade. Such is the character of reflected
light, varying according to the angle and intensity of the luminary and
a hundred other things. When we come to study light in the open air we
get into another region, and have to deal with it accordingly, and yet
we shall find that our sciagraphy will be a help to us even in this
bewilderment; for it will explain in a manner the innumerable shapes of
sun-shadows that we observe out of doors among hills and dales, showing
up their forms and structure; its play in the woods and gardens, and its
value among buildings, showing all their juttings and abuttings,
recesses, doorways, and all the other architectural details. Nor must we
forget light's most glorious display of all on the sea and in the clouds
and in the sunrises and the sunsets down to the still and lovely
moonlight.
These sun-shadows are useful in showing us the principle of light and
shade, and so also are the shadows cast by artificial light; but they
are only the beginning of that beautiful study, that exquisite art of
tone or _chiaro-oscuro_, which is infinite in its variety, is full of
the deepest mystery, and is the true poetry of art. For this the student
must go to Nature herself, must study her in all her moods from early
dawn to sunset, in the twilight and when night sets in. No mathematical
rules can help him, but only the thoughtful contemplation, the silent
watching, and the mental notes that he can make and commit to memory,
combining them with the sentiments to which they in tur
|