irl of a wind
flurry across a still lake. There are moments in all phenomena like
these where a great man rising to the occasion can catch them exactly,
as did Rousseau in the golden glow of the fading light through the
forest, or Corot in the crisp light of the morning, or Daubigny in the
low twilight across the sunken marshes where one can almost hear the
frogs croak.
Selection, then, preceded by the deepest and closest thought as to
whether the subject is worth painting at all, becomes necessary, the
student giving himself plenty of time to study it in all its phases;
time enough to "walk around it," reviewing it at different angles;
noting the hour at which it is at its best and happiest, seizing upon
its most telling presentment--and all this before he begins even
_mentally_ to compose its salient features on the square of his
canvas. You can turn, if you choose, your camera skyward and focus the
top of a steeple and only that. It is true, but it is uninteresting,
or rather unintelligible, until you focus also the church door, and
the gathering groups, and the overgrown pathway that winds through the
quiet graveyard. So a picture can be true and yet very much like a
slip cut from a newspaper. For some men cut thus into nature,
haphazard, without care or thought, and produce perhaps a square
containing an advertisement of a patent churn, a railroad timetable,
and a fragment of an essay on art. Cut carefully and with selection,
and you may get a poem which will soothe you like a melody.
* * * * *
As to the value of the laws which govern the perfect composition, it
is unquestionably true that a correct knowledge of these laws makes
or unmakes the picture and establishes or ruins the rank of the
painter. No matter how careful the drawing, how interesting the
subject, how true the mass, how subtle the gradations of light and
shade, how perfect the expression of the figures, or how transparent
the atmosphere of a landscape, a want of this knowledge will defeat
the result. On the other hand, a good composition--one that "carries,"
as the term is--one that can be seen across the room, if properly
composed will instantly excite your interest, even if upon near
inspection you are shocked by its crudities and faults. "I don't know
what it is," says a painter, "but it's good all the same."
After your selection has been made, the next thing is to search for
its centre of interest. When th
|