Book Two [cont.]

Thus I desire, as I have said, that modesty and truth should be used in every istoria . For this reason be careful not to repeat the same gesture or pose. The istoria will move the soul of the beholder when each man painted there clearly shows the movement of his own soul. It happens in nature that nothing more than herself is found capable of things like herself; [59] we weep with the weeping, laugh with the laughing, and grieve with the grieving. These movements of the soul are made known by movements of the body. Care and thought weigh so heavily that a sad person stands with his forces and feelings as if dulled, holding himself feebly and tiredly on his pallid and poorly sustained members. In the melancholy the forehead is wrinkled, the head drooping, all members fall as if tired and neglected. In the angry, because anger incites the soul, the eyes are swollen with ire and the face and all the members are burned with colour, fury adds so much boldness there. [60] In gay and happy men the movements are free and with certain pleasing inflections. [61] They praise Euphranor since he executed the face and expression of Alexander Paris in which you could recognize him as the judge of the goddesses, the lover of Helen and the slayer of Achilles. There is also great praise for the painter Demon, since in his picture you could easily see [Paris to be] angry, unjust, inconstant, and at the same time placable, given to clemency and mercy, proud, humble and ferocious. They say that Aristides the Theban, equal to Appeles, understood these movements very well. [62] They will certainly be understood by us when we come to know them through study and diligence.

Thus all the movements of the body should be closely observed by the painter. These he may well learn from nature, even though it is difficult to imitate the many movements of the soul. Who would ever believe who has not tried it how difficult it is to attempt to paint a laughing face only to have it [p. 77] elude you so that you make it more weeping than happy? Who could ever without the greatest study express faces in which mouth, chin, eyes, cheeks, forehead and eyebrows all were in harmony with laughter or weeping. For this reason it is best to learn them from nature and always to do these things very rapidly, letting the observer think he sees more than he actually sees.

But let me say something about these movements. Part of this I fabricate out of my own mind, part I have learned from nature. First of all I think that all the bodies ought to move according to what is ordered in the istoria . In an istoria I like to see someone who admonishes and points out to us what is happening there; or beckons with his hand to see; or menaces with an angry face and with flashing eyes, so that no one should come near; or shows some danger or marvellous thing there; or invites us to weep or to laugh together with them. Thus whatever the painted persons do among themselves or with the beholder, all is pointed toward ornamenting or teaching the istoria . Timantes of Cyprus is praised in his panel, the Immolation of Iphigenia, with which he conquered Kolotes. He painted Calchas sad, Ulysses more sad, and in Menelaos, then, he would have exhausted his art in showing him greatly grief stricken. Not having any way in which to show the grief of the father, he threw a drape over his head and let his most bitter grief by imagined, even though it was not seen. [63] They praise the ship painted in Rome by our Tuscan painter Giotto. [64] Eleven disciples [are portrayed], all moved by fear at seeing one of their companions passing over the water. Each one expresses with his face and gesture a clear indication of a disturbed soul in such a way that there are different movements and positions in each one.

Allow me to pass over the movements most briefly. Some movements of the soul are called affections, such as grief, joy and fear, desire and other similar ones. The following are movements of the body. Bodies themselves move in several ways, [p. 78] rising, descending, becoming ill, being cured and moving from place to place. We painters who wish to show the movements of the soul by movements of the body are concerned solely with the movement of change of place. Anything which moves its place can do it in seven ways: up, the first; down, the second; to the right, the third; to the left, the fourth; in depth moving closer and then away; and the seventh going around. [65] I desire all these movements in painting. Some bodies are placed towards us, others away form us, and in one body some parts appear to the observer, some drawn back, others high and others low.

Because there are some who pass all reason in these movements I should like to recount here some things about pose and movement which I have collected from nature. From this we shall clearly understand that they should be used with moderation. Remember how man in all his poses uses the entire body to support the head, heaviest member of all. When he is resting on one foot, this foot always stands perpendicularly under the head like the base of a column, and almost always in one who stands erect the face is turned in the same direction as the feet. I have noted that the movements of the head are almost always such that certain parts of the body have to sustain it as with levers, so great is its weight. Better, a member which corresponds to the weight of the head is stretched out in an opposing part like an arm of a balance. We see that when a weight is held in an extended arm with the feet together like the needle of a balance, all the other parts of the body will displace to counterbalance the weight. I have noticed that in raising the head no one turns his face higher than he would in looking at the zenith; horizontally no one can turn his face past a point where the chin touches the shoulder; the waist [66] is never twisted so much that the point of the shoulder is perpendicular above the navel. The movements of the legs and of the arms are very free in order not to hamper other 'honest' parts of the body. [67] I see in nature that the hands are almost never raised above the [p. 79] head, nor the elbow over the shoulder, nor the foot above the knee, nor between one foot and the other is there more space than that of one foot. Remember that when a hand is extended upward that same side of the body even to the feet follows it so that the heel itself is raised off the pavement.

The diligent artist will note many similar things by himself. Perhaps what I have said is so obvious that it may appear superfluous. But, because I have seen not a few err in these things it seemed best not to be silent about them. You will find that in expressing too violent movements and in making the breast and the small of the back visible at the same time in the same figure--a thing which is neither possible nor becoming--some think to be praised because they hear that figures appear most lively which most throw about all their members. For this reason their figures appear hackers and actors [68] without any dignity in the painting. Because of this they are not only without grace and sweetness but moreover they show the too fiery and turbulent imagination of the artist.

The painting ought to have pleasant and graceful movements, suitable to what is happening there. The movements and poses of virgins are airy, full of simplicity with sweetness of quiet rather than strength; even though to Homer, whom Zeuxis followed, robust forms were pleasing even in women. [69] The movements of youths are light, gay, with certain demonstration of great soul and good force. In men the movements are more adorned with firmness, with beautiful and artful poses. In the old the movements and poses are fatigued; the feet no longer support the body, and they even cling with their hands. [70] Thus each one with dignity has his own movements to express whatever movements of the soul he wishes. For the greatest disturbance of the soul there are similar great movements of the members. This rule of common movements is observed in all animate beings. It would not be fitting to give a plough ox the same movements that you would to Bucephalos, that high-spirited horse of Alexander. Perhaps it would be appropriate in [p. 80] the painting to make Io, [71] who was changed into a cow, run with her tail turned straight back, with the neck erect, and her feet raised.

We have said enough about the movements of animate beings; now, then, since inanimate things move in all those manners which we have stated above, let us treat of them. I am delighted to see some movement in hair, locks of hair, branches, fronds and robes. The seven movements are especially pleasing in hair where part of it turns in spirals as if wishing to knot itself, waves in the air like flames, twines around itself like a serpent, while part rises here, part there. In the same way branches twist themselves now up, now down, now away, now near, the parts contorting themselves like ropes. Folds are in the same way, emerging like the branches from the trunk of a tree. In this they adhere to the seven movements so that no part of the cloth is bare of movement. As I have noted, movements should be moderated and sweet. They should appear graceful to the observer rather than a marvel of study. However, where we should like to find movement in the draperies, cloth is by nature heavy and falls to the earth. For this reason it would be well to place in the picture the face of the wind Zephyrus or Austrus who blows from the clouds making the draperies move in the wind. Thus you will see with what grace the bodies, where they are struck by the wind, show the nude under the draperies in suitable parts. In the other parts the draperies blown by the wind fly gracefully through the air. In this blowing in the wind the painter should take care not to display any drape against the wind. [72] All that I have said about the movements of animate and of inanimate objects I have observed. Once more you have followed with diligence what I have said about the composition of planes, members and bodies.

The reception of light remains to be treated. in the lessons above I have demonstrated at length how light has the power to vary colours. I have taught how the same colour, according [p. 81] to the light and shade it receives, will alter its appearance. I have said that white and black express to the painter shade and light; all other colours for the painter are matter to which he adds more or less shadow or light. Therefore, let us leave the other things. Here we must consider solely how the painter ought to use white and black.

It is said that the antique painters Polygnotos and Timantes used only four colours. Aglaophon was marvelled at because he like to paint with one simple colour. [73] Few of these great painters would have chosen this small number of colours, for they so valued a large number that they thought a multitude of colours more suitable to a productive artist. I certainly agree that copiousness and variety of colours greatly add to the pleasure and fame of a painting. But I should like the [highest level of attainment] in industry and art to rest, as the learned maintain, on knowing how to use black and white. It is worth all your study and diligence to know how to use these two well, because light and shade make things appear in relief. Thus white and black make painted things appear in relief and win that praise which was given to Nicias the Athenian painter. They say the Zeuxis, [74] a most famous antique painter, was almost the leader of the others in knowing the force of light and shade; little such praise was given to the others. [75] I almost always consider mediocre the painter who does not understand well the strength of every light and shade in each plane. I say the learned and the unlearned praise those faces which, as though carved, appear to issue out of the panel, and they criticize those faces in which is seen no other art than perhaps that of drawing.

I prefer a good drawing with a good composition to be well coloured. Therefore let us study first of all light and shade, and remember how one plane is brighter than another where the rays of light strike, and how, where the force of light is lacking, that same colour becomes dusky. It should also be noted that the shadow will always correspond to the light in another part [p. 82] so that no part of a body is lighted without another part being dark.

As for imitating the bright with white and the shadow with black, I admonish you to take great care to know the distinct planes as each one is covered with light or shadow. This will be well enough understood by you from nature. When you know it well, with great restraint you will commence to place the white where you need it, and, at the same time, oppose it with black. With this balancing of white and black the amount of relief in objects is clearly recognized. Thus with restraint little by little continue raising more white and more black as much as you need.

A good judge for you to know is the mirror. I do not know why painted things have so much grace in the mirror. It is marvellous how every weakness in a painting is so manifestly deformed in the mirror. Therefore things taken from nature are corrected with a mirror. I have here truly recounted things which I have learned from nature.

Remember that on a flat plane the colour remains uniform in every place; in the concave and spherical planes the colour takes variations, because what is here light is there dark, in other places a median colour. This alteration of colours deceives the stupid painters, who, as we have said, think the placing of the lights to be easy when they have well designed the outlines of the planes. They should work in this way. First they should cover the plane out to the outlines as if with the lightest dew with whatever white or black they need. Then above this another and then another and thus little by little they should proceed. Where there is more light, they should use more white; where the light fails the white is lost as if in smoke. In the same way they should do the contrary with black. [76]

But remember, never make any plane so white that it cannot be made whiter. If you should dress a figure in whitest robes, it is best to stop much below the highest whiteness. [77] The painter has nothing other than white with which to show the highest [p. 83] lustre of the most highly polished sword, and only black to show the deepest shadow of night. You will see that force of this by placing white next to black so that vases by this means appear of silver, of gold and of glass and appear to shine in the painting. For this reason I criticize severely all painters who use white and black without much discretion. [78]

It would please me if white were sold to painters at a price higher than the most precious gems. It would certainly be useful if white and black were made from those very large pearls which Cleopatra destroyed in vinegar, so that painters would be, as they ought to be, miserly and good managers [79] and their works would be truthful, sweet and pleasing. [80] I cannot overemphasize the advantage of this frugality to painters. If they should perhaps sin in the distributing of black and white, it is to be held less against one who uses much black than one who does not well spread out white. From day to day follow nature so that horrid and obscure things come to be hated by you; and as in doing you learn, so your hand becomes more delicate in grace and beauty. Certainly by nature we love open and clear things; therefore, close more tightly the way in which it is most easy to sin.

We have treated of white and black. Now we will treat of the other colours, not where all good and tried colours are found like Vitruvius, the architect, but in what way well ground colours are used in painting. They say the Euphranor, [81] an ancient painter, wrote something about colours; it is not found today. Truly, if ever this was written by others, we have dug this art up from under the earth. If it was never written, we have drawn it from heaven. We will continue to use our intellect as we have up to here. I should prefer that all types and every sort [82] of colour should be seen in painting for the great delight and pleasure of the observer. Grace will be fond, when one colour is greatly different from the others near it. When you paint Diana leading her troop, the robes of one nymph should be green, of another white, of another rose, of another yellow, [p. 84] and thus different colours to each one, so that the clear colours are always near other different darker colours. This contrast will be beautiful where the colours are clear and bright. There is a certain friendship of colours so that one joined with another gives dignity and grace. Rose near green and sky blue gives both honour and life. White not only near ash and crocus yellow but placed near almost any other gives gladness. Dark colours stand among lights with dignity and the light colours turn about among the darks. Thus, as I have said, the painter will dispose his colours. [83]

There are some who use much gold in their istoria They think it gives majesty. I do not praise it. Even though one should paint Virgil's Dido whose quiver was of gold, her golden hair knotted with gold, and her purple robe girdled with pure gold, the reins of the horse and everything of gold, I should not wish gold to be used, for there is more admiration and praise for the painter who imitates the rays of gold with colours. Again we see in a plane panel with a gold ground [84] that some planes shine where they ought to be dark and are dark where they ought to be light. I say, I would not censure the other curved ornaments joined to the painting such as columns, carved bases, capitals and frontispieces even if they were of the most pure and massy gold. Even more, a well perfected istoria deserves ornaments of the most precious gems.

Up to here we have treated most briefly of the three parts of painting. We have treated of the circumscription, of the larger and smaller planes, we have treated of colours as we believe them to pertain to the use of the painter. Therefore, we thus express all painting when we say it is made up of these three things: circumscription, composition and the reception of light.