Pen Drawing and Pen Draughtsmen

A Classic Survey of the Medium and Its Masters

Joseph Pennell

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2013
• Print ISBN: 9780486475424
• eBook ISBN: 9780486316475
• Topic: Art
• Subtopic: Art Techniques

In this comprehensive study of the art of drawing with a pen, artist and author Joseph Pennell highlights his opinionated "technical suggestions" with more than 400 illustrations by 250 famous artists, including Titian, Dürer, Rembrandt, Rodin, Manet, Renoir, Beardsley, Pyle, Hiroshige, van Gogh, Rackham, and other masters from around the globe. Each of the high-quality reproductions is accompanied by a critique of its style and execution and occasional comparisons to the artist's other works and those of contemporaries.
Featured images range from landscapes by Titian, Rembrandt, and Corot to figure studies by Dürer, Goya, and Rodin and portraits by Manet and Matisse. The tremendous variety of subjects extends to street scenes by Toulouse Lautrec and van Gogh, episodes from literature envisioned by Rossetti, Burne-Jones, and Millais, and decorations by Crane and Morris. A visual treasure trove and valuable reference, this volume will serve as an enduring source of instruction and inspiration for artists of all skill levels.

OF PEN DRAWING IN THE PAST

CHAPTER I

OF pen drawing in the past I shall say little, for the reason that there is little to be said, that is, from my standpoint: the making of pen drawings for illustration and reproduction. No artist would study the old masters, with a very few exceptions, for the technical qualities of pen drawing for printing. As painters now look to Titian and Velasquez, Rembrandt and Franz Hals for the technique of oil painting, so illustrators in the future will look to some of the pen draughtsmen of yesterday as not only the early, but the great masters of the art. It is not necessary to do more than point out the scope and aims of pen drawing as practiced by the great artists of other days, in order to emphasize its far wider scope and broader aims among the men of our days. A knowledge of its technical immaturity in the past helps us to the appreciation of its development in the present.

It must be remembered, however, that if the pen drawing of the old masters was undeveloped in comparison with modern work, it was because, with them, there was no call for it as an art apart. It was quite perfect for their purpose. Since in engravings on wood and metal all the pen quality of a drawing was lost, when they wanted to reproduce their work they etched or engraved. What Hamerton says generally of pen drawings is really applicable only to the old men; theirs were “sketches of projects and intentions.” They are to be studied for their composition and arrangement, suggestion of light and shade, and rendering of the figure, of which I have no intention to speak, since in these matters pen drawing is subject to the same laws as any other form of art; but for technique these pen memoranda, which is what they are, as a rule, have little to teach the modern draughtsman.

That the old masters made great use of the pen is well known. One cannot visit any of the great galleries without seeing many of their pen drawings, which are interesting in relation to the pictures of which they were the germs, and as records of strong impressions and ideas vigorously and simply put down. And here let me insist again that, while one may make notes and sketches as they did, and study their marvelous facility and vigor in so sketching, such sketches are not, as many modern critics and painters consider them, pen drawings. This is proved at once by the very different methods used by these masters in their etchings, to which the pen drawings of today are equivalent. But their pen sketches, or rather memoranda, really were for them very much what instantaneous photographs are for their degenerate successors, the photographic painters, suggestions and notes of action and movement—suggestions which when adopted, and notes which when taken from the camera, nearly always result in the ruination of the artist, while the photographer struts abroad glorying in his greatness. By all means the old masters’ sketches should be studied. But it is the veriest affectation nowadays to imitate them, though hailed with approval and applause by the artlessly critical.

If the artists of today were not possessed of such curses as photography, they would probably excel all the masters in sketching or etching—always excepting Rembrandt and Whistler—for we do develop and advance. The modern artist has many aids and props which the old men knew nothing about, and these make the work of today much more, the artless think, accurate and true than that of old time. But because of his dependence on these props, the modern artist has lost much of his former ability to see and put down what he sees. This applies even to color. And if a man with the gifts of Titian were to appear today, he would surpass Titian, just as Corot surpasses all the old landscapists technically. Claude though is a greater artist and Claude’s pen drawings are wonderful—but mostly would not reproduce in line.

Michael Angelo, Da Vinci, and Raphael often made the first sketches for their paintings with pen and ink: sketches full of character, that have lately been made better known by numerous reproductions and numberless photographs. Botticelli’s delicate and refined illustrations for the Divina Commedia, though drawn with silver point, were gone over with pen and ink, while those signed with a B, at times attributed to Botticelli in the Hypnerotomachia, are the most perfect in the early books. Great as illustrators, too, were Dürer and Holbein and their methods are by no means obsolete; the better they are known, the better for art.

Landscapes by Titian, with little villages or houses in the distance, have a delightful suggestion of picturesqueness; but it is curious to compare these with modern pen and ink landscapes by Rico, Vierge, or Lalanne. Titian’s, the honest critic must admit, if such exist, suffer when comparison of their technical points is made. But scarce any critics are honest—and the few who are have mostly no courage, and copy the words that fall from the crooks. A drawing of a Turk by Gentile Bellini in the British Museum can, for beauty of modelling with a pen and delicacy of handling combined with simplicity, be advantageously studied by the pen draughtsmen of today. It shows what the old men might have done with a pen—but they made drawings for their own sake—for art’s sake, not for reproduction.

There are pen studies of horses and carriages by Velasquez, very simply and strongly suggested, and marvels by Rembrandt and Claude and above all Dürer. But it is unnecessary to go through the list of all the masters whose drawings have been preserved. It is endless, and, differing as the drawings do in character, they are nearly all alike in being notes or records of facts; or if, as rarely happens, carried out, are, save in few more than the cases I have mentioned, valueless for study of technique. That is, to the student, who should learn that the greatest care and not the utmost carelessness should be his aim in drawing for reproduction. While one may rave over these early drawings, one should no more recommend their technique to the beginner than feed a baby with champagne. I wish it to be understood this book is not intended for dry, dreary cranks. There are ideas enough to be learned from the old masters’ drawings, and sometimes the best and strongest work of the artist is to be found in his pen drawings.

The pen draughtsman should study Holbein’s Dance of Death, and his beautiful designs for metal work, many of the originals of which may be found in the British Museum and that at Basle; Albert Dürer’s and Israel von Meckenen’s metal engravings; Rembrandt’s drawings and etchings; the lovely Renaissance decorative head and tail pieces; Claude’s perfect landscapes in the Uffizi. Dürer, having no perfect process by which to reproduce his designs, apparently put little delicacy of line into his wonderful drawings for the wood-cutter, yet a reference to the Apollo contradicts this statement, and delicacy is all that is lacking to make them in technique equal to the drawings of today. That he could draw delicately is shown by his prints, every one of which is worthy of reverent study. That he did not, only proves that he understood the limitations of wood-cutting. This want, however, added to a certain archaic feeling that pervades all his engraved work, makes it affectation for an artist today to model his style on that of Dürer—though this wood-cut techniqueis perfect for rapid printing.

On the other hand, nothing could be nearer perfection for an artist of a northern country to study than Rembrandt’s and Whistler’s etchings of out-of-door subjects, especially their little views of towns. Even Ruskin gives this advice in his Elements of Drawing, regarding Rembrandt; his etchings have so many of the same qualities as pen drawings that I feel certain, had he lived in our age, he would not have etched so much, but would have made innumerable pen drawings, for the same reason the best pen draughtsman of our land, Abbey, once gave me. Why, when he could have his drawings reproduced perfectly, should he use a nasty, dirty process, which is successful more by good luck than good management? That was E. A. Abbey’s opinion. Luckily he died before the world came to an artless dry end, else he would have etched, for his drawings could not, or would not be reproduced today—it would cost too much. You can see from reproductions, how well Rembrandt’s simpler etchings, as well as Van Dyck’s, are rendered by line process blocks from clean wiped prints. Many of Rembrandt’s etchings come very well without any wiping. Whistler’s last drawings were in pen and ink. Collectors now appreciate old etchings for their rarity, but when they were made they were sought for because of their perfect reproduction of the master’s work. There were fancy prices attached to some of Rembrandt’s etchings when he made them but not to Meryon’s. They were sold for a few cents as are our worst illustrated magazines. We have scarce any good ones any longer.

There is a little of the modern feeling and go in some of Tiepolo’s drawings. Claude’s landscape sketching in pen and ink is also full of the modern spirit. Both these artists used washes of bistre or sepia on their pen drawings, and as these washes can now be reproduced perfectly, there is every reason to use them—as there is to avoid the rotten oil paintings which are stuck in the American artless magazines. I am no purist in art, and therefore no advocate for “pure pen drawing.” I think it more important to give a desired effect, no matter how, than to limit the means by which it is to be obtained. But always the artist must observe the technical requirements of reproduction and printing.

The development from Claude and Tiepolo, through Paul Huet and others, to our time, could be easily traced. Doubtless many pages could be filled were I to follow this growth in detail, as there are many books compiled by the artless for the studious and the serious, and if I stole from those books, ample opportunities would be afforded to discover my omissions and praise my discoveries. But I do not think it worth while, since it is in its maturity, rather than in its making, that pen drawing is most interesting. And besides, the introduction of photo-engraving had so much to do with its development that there seems to be but one step from the old “sketches of projects and intentions” to the modern technically perfect pen drawing.

The history of the development of pen drawing and the history of the development of photo-engraving are two distinct subjects, neither of which do I propose to treat. There are dissertations on both subjects which the curious may pursue and peruse—they have nothing to do with the art though there are many curious facts to be learned as to the beginning of mechanical process engraving, which was first successfully practiced in France.

And there are innumerable histories and biographies of the great and lesser masters, from Giotto to the man who died yesterday, all of whom have helped to develop pen drawing.

But until about the year 1880 pen drawing did not begin to flourish as an art. Before this no artist, except as an experiment, wanted his work reproduced by these partially developed mechanical processes. The drawings of the old masters, when reproduced at all, were drawn on wood and then cut to pieces or etched or engraved on metal, and these methods were continued until a few years ago, when photography was made use of to transfer drawings on to wood blocks which were then engraved and the drawings preserved. The last method is the photographing of the pen or other drawing–-with pen drawings alone I am concerned—on to a metal plate, from which a mechanical or process engraving is made by etching the photographic image into relief, the black lines or tones being acid resisting—the bare space between the lines being eaten by acid leaving the lines in relief for printing. It is this development of process which has made pen drawing into a distinct art, equal in importance to etching. It is mechanical wood-cutting and engraving; one of the rare cases in art in which machinery is better than hand w...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Preface
• List of Illustrations
• Chapter I - of Pen Drawing in the Past
• Chapter II - of Spanish and Italian Work
• Chapter III - of Pen Drawing in France
• Chapter IV - of German Work
• Chapter V - of Dutch, Danish and Other Work
• Chapter VI - of Pen Drawing in England
• Chapter VII - of Pen Drawing in America
• Chapter VIII - of Japanese Illustration
• Chapter IX - of The New Illustration
• Chapter X - of Newspaper Illustration
• Chapter XI - of Book Decoration
• Chapter XII - of Materials for Pen Drawing
• Chapter XIII - of Technical Suggestions for Pen Drawing
• Chapter XIV - of The Reproduction of Pen Drawings
• Index