Sarsfield Taylor 1843

William Benjamin Sarsfield Taylor, A Manual of Fresco and Encaustic Painting containing Ample Instruction for Executing Works of these Descriptions with an Historical Memois of these Arts from the Earlist Periods, London [Chapman & Hall] 1843.

pp. 1–26

A MANUAL,
&c. &c.

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CHAPTER I.

SECTION I.
SKETCH OF THE ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF FRESCO PAINTING, &c.

IN commencing a description of the method and materials employed in the noble art of Fresco painting, we feel it to be our duty to notice, in the first place, the immediate cause of the important and gratifying results that have been so recently produced in the intellectual class of painting in our native school of art.

That cause, to which we have alluded, was the instituting of “The Royal Commission on the Fine Arts;” and we must say, that in whatever quarter that idea may have originated, or by whomsoever the advice to establish that commission may have been suggested to the royal mind, it is quite clear that those who may have advised, and those who carried that advice into effect, eminently deserve the most cordial thanks, not only of the large and influential classes of society, who really value the arts, from being well aware of their high moral influence and intellectual character – but they are also fully entitled to the gratitude of the whole nation, for thus affording to British genius a full and fair opportunity of developing its mental energies, and of nobly refuting the pedantic calumnies of some continental writers,* who, with much more solemnity than good sense or practical knowledge of the subject, have laid it down as an incontrovertible dogma, “that British intellect was incompetent, in the fine arts, to produce works of a highly intellectual character, or indeed any above mediocrity.” Of this assertion, and the other plausible absurdities which those prejudiced authors have placed on record, with respect to this important and national concern, it is only necessary for us to say, that they are highly amusing; because, along with displaying very shallow notions with respect to the true philosophy of the human mind in general, they show, in an extraordinary degree, the most profound ignorance of the British character; but the futility of such crude reveries having gradually become evident, and their total dispersion having now been completely achieved by the British artists in the recent cartoon exhibition in Westminster Hall, we shall dismiss the calumniators of British intellect, not with contempt, but complacency; for on other subjects those authors have done good literary service. Besides, as the victory now rests on our side in this intellectual contest, we can very well afford to be in a good humour with the rest of the world.

* The President Montesquieu, The Abbés Winkelman and du Bos, &c. A person named Waagen, from Prussia, has lately been endeavouring to revive the exploded conceits of the writers above mentioned, but he is a mere pedant as compared with them.

Having in our preface described the objects which the Royal Commission had in view, we shall now proceed to show the extreme antiquity of fresco painting, and to lay before our readers its true nature and character, as well as that of “Encaustic painting,” which resembles fresco so much in all its grander features and appliances, that it may be called “the younger sister” of this noble art; the difference between them consisting chiefly in the vehicle employed to fix them on the walls. These vehicles will be noticed among the materials and methods employed in their operations by artists in various countries from very remote ages, and with as much consecutiveness as may be possible, down to the present time.

SECTION II.
ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF FRESCO PAINTING.

This splendid mode of beautifying public edifices and first-rate private mansions, has been known to exist practically, from the earliest periods of which any authentic documents relative to the fine arts have reached our days; and all those data concur in proving, that this art was coeval with architecture, and in strict union as sculpture also was, with that great division of art.

Of these facts – Egypt, that interesting region, which has long been considered as “the cradle of the arts” affords the most precious and conclusive evidence; proving that the superb temples of that land of early civilization were invariably and extensively adorned with pictorial compositions, in poetry, in history, and portraiture. But as the government of that country was a concentrated hierarchy, that held the arts completely under its control, the Egyptian paintings and sculpture, always had a direct reference to the religious tenets and public worship of that singular people. Thus the action, expression, and attitudes of the figures representing their deities, or heroes, were restricted within narrow limits and generally incorrect in their proportions, but in their greatest sculptured works, displaying a simplicity of position, approaching to grandeur of style – yet the attitudes being limited to a very small number—and the forms of men, though not the lower animals, having become entirely conventional, and, as it always happens in the arts, when the study of nature is neglected, those inferior representations of living forms became worse and worse every century after they had passed their meridian, which was supposed to have happened in the time of Sesostris, about 1300 years before the birth of Christ, and from the accession of the Ptolemies, the downward course of Egyptian art was gradual, but never interrupted for a moment.

But if arbitrary interference with the natural progress of the human mind, damped and frustrated the natural genius of the Egyptian people,* by forbidding the exercise generally of those powers of intellect which it is clear they possessed; yet the solidity, and permanence of the works of their hands are truly surprising; and thus it is that their knowledge and industry have left us the most valuable links in the chain of art, from its earliest dawn of existence;—of this fact each successive traveller adds volumes of evidence to those already before the world; from such authentic and valuable sources it is that we find in numerous instances, the frescos of Egypt must have been painted more than two thousand years before the commencement of the Christian era, and yet they retain all the brightness of hue, and freshness of tone, which they received from the painter’s hand; and some of their representations of processions, scenes of domestic life, animals, &c., not connected with their religious ceremonies, display a range of fancy, and a knowledge of expression, much superior to the paintings found in their public buildings.

* The recumbent lions in red granite, brought from Upper Egypt by Lord Prudhoe, and presented to the nation, now in the British Museum, are very noble specimens, though somewhat dilapidated, of true and high feeling; the treatment also, as sculptures, is broad and masterly in no common degree.

In the palmy days of Egypt their frescos were painted upon the smooth, but not polished surfaces of the stone walls, or columns, as it might be required; the vehicle, or liquid employed, was a finely prepared size, formed chiefly of the yolks and whites of eggs, which were intimately blended together with a little vinegar.* This substance, when properly made, forms a very lasting gluten even in our climate, and in the ever dry “land of Egypt,” it appears to be impervious to atmospheric action, and in fact to yield only to actual violence.

* It should be borne in mind that the albumen (white of egg), used alone, will crack in a few years.

The Egyptian style of fresco painting, it should be remarked, was materially different, like their architecture and sculpture, from that which was afterwards practised in Greece and Etruria; more widely still is this difference seen in the methods and materials adopted in Rome under the emperors, whilst a still greater revolution of ideas and practices is observable in the style of the frescos, which, on the revival of literature and the arts, were called in to adorn the temples of Christianity: and which with a very slow progress, that is to say, in about four centuries, attained under the great Italian masters of the cinque cento to a grandeur of conception, correctness of design, a power of developing the beauty and gracefulness of the human form, together with a truth of expression, unity of action, richness of colouring, and effect, until then unknown in painting, and which up to this time, remain unrivalled.

SECTION III.
GREEK FRESCOS AND ENCAUSTICS.

The Greeks, who appear to have derived some elements of the arts from Egypt, left all competitors behind, by adding their own good taste to the principles of art, then not well established, but of which they attained the true limits in sculpture by the celebrated statue called “the canon of Polycletes.” In these intellectual pursuits the Greeks were greatly favoured by their free institutions; which happy circumstance, as under the British constitution, left the human mind unshackled, to find its proper level according to its natural tendencies, its moral and mental qualifications.

The greatest painters of Greece were, it appears, frequently engaged in painting grand historical and poetical compositions upon the walls of the temples and other public edifices of their country, as we are informed by Pausanius, Pliny, and other eminent writers. Some few fragments of the Greek frescos* have reached our days, and they exhibit a vigour of thought and beauty of style characteristic of the principles of Grecian art. The Greek artists for some cause not well explained, gave a preference to “Encaustic painting” for their largest works on walls. This mode of painting is wholly different in its process from that of fresco, and likewise in the vehicle with which the colours are combined and united to the wall;—it is by some writers* considered to be more lasting than fresco, besides affording richer tones of colour, and more powerful effects in chiaro-oscuro: an account of this process will be found in Chapter VII. of this work.

* In the Royal Museum of France is preserved a portion of an antique mural picture. It represents Apollo and Marsyas; it is painted on a gold ground. Such a ground was occasionally used by the ancients.

*Vide Emmeric David, “Historie de la Peinture.”

Pliny informs us (L. XXXV., cap. 9) that Lysippus the painter, who preceded Pamphilus, the master of Pausias and Apelles, executed a work of this kind at Egina, and that he put an inscription under it, stating that he had himself subjected the work to the action of fire—an agent that appears to have been indispensable to the success of Encaustic painting.

We also learn a curious fact from Solinus (L. I., p. 49), who states that the celebrated painter Apelles, had painted a temple at Pergamos, and that some years after his death, the temple having been from some cause neglected for a time, bats and noxious insects did mischief to the pictures—until at length the people of Pergamos, being determined to preserve these masterpieces of art, bought for a very large sum, the dead body (preserved) of one of those serpents called basilisks, and had it suspended by golden cords in front of the works of Apelles, that the sight of it might drive away the obnoxious creatures, and thus assist in preserving this portion of the public wealth.

Pliny also informs us that Polygnotes had executed several paintings upon the walls of a temple of the Thespii; after many years the pictures were damaged, and the Thespians sent to invite Pausias to restore them, which he did admirably. Many more facts might be adduced from ancient writers, to show how much this art was honoured by the most enlightened people of antiquity, but these will serve to display the honest pride with which the Greeks regarded and preserved the works of high art in the respective states of their confederacy.

The Phœnicians also, then the most commercial people in the world, who have rightly been styled “the universal traders,” – they were likewise, we are told from high authority, “cunning workmen;” and that their knowledge in the sculptor’s art must have been very considerable, is evident if only the fact of Hiram king of Tyre having cast the brazen sea for the Temple of Solomon be considered; for the knowledge of art must have been considerable, and of long cultivation amongst the people who were capable of producing so ponderous a work, which, indeed, even in our days would be considered a very difficult casting.

The numerous fleets of merchantmen from Tyre, Sidon, Carthage, &c., carried the arts from Egypt and Palestine into Asia Minor, Etruria, and the coasts of the Mediterranean generally; and may have, as long since has been conjectured, extended their commercial enterprise even to the great Western Continent afterwards rediscovered by Columbus, at a period long antecedent to the Christian era; which intercourse was afterwards lost, and even the memory of it forgotten, in consequence of the destruction of the Carthaginian power and nationality by the Romans, which eventually annihilated their commerce, and of necessity put an end to their cultivation of the fine arts; although they carried the germs of them into various countries, where, having been matured, they have in a lapse of ages beautifully developed their high moral and intellectual qualities to the honour and profit of those nations who have had the wisdom to give them due encouragement.

SECTION IV.
FRESCO, ENCAUSTIC, AND MOSAICS, IN THE ROMAN EMPIRE.

In this section we approach much nearer to the theory and practice of these arts, than could be obtained from the earlier authorities; and we also find unhappily that they were less respected here, than in other lands.

The Romans, an insatiate, and always a semi-barbarous people, amongst whom the arts of civilization never had much extension, did not look upon the fine arts at any time with admiration, or even respect, if we except architecture, which the wealthy amongst them appear to have considered merely as a vehicle for displaying their vain and ostentatious love of exhibiting their wealth. Even this art they picked up from the Greeks, and soon corrupted its grand and simple principles, and fashioned it to their own climate and purposes. Still it was in the hands of Greek workmen, who being supplied with large means, derived from the plunder of other nations, erected numerous and sometimes grand edifices, both public and private, but never with the purity of taste that ever distinguished genuine Greek architecture.

Painting and sculpture, however, never were looked upon by this semibarbarous race, as intellectual pursuits;* the Roman people were too coarse-minded to conceive how these peaceful arts could confer wealth and honour upon a nation without fighting for them; “dull as night, and dark as Erebus,” in every thing but war and rapine, they looked upon the arts as merely decorative occupations, which required nothing more to carry on their operations than mechanical skill, and a power of dexterous manipulation; and to this classification the very noble arts of fresco painting, encaustic painting, and sculpture, were consigned.

* That very fact proves the low tone and confined calibre of Rome’s national mind – brute force was their only implement. And even Virgil (not a Roman) encourages them to despise the sculptures and other liberal arts of Greece; and tells them to “be satisfied with being the conquerors of nations and masters of the world.” Where are now their conquests or mastership of the world? The glories of Greek arts have survived them all. Greece is a free nation, and Rome is sunk in imbecility.

That ingenious and tasteful people the Etruscans, were the first who introduced fresco painting and the other arts at Rome. Greek artists afterwards brought in a grander style, and an improved practice, which was tolerated under the pagan emperors; and from the specimens discovered at various times, these paintings were evidently executed at an era when the Greek style had not yet been overlaid by the barbarous corruptions which submerged it in the age of Constantine. For when the arts which had been cultivated from their birth to maturity by the Greeks, and had long honoured, adorned, and enriched Greece and “its beautiful Isles,” were dragged as captives at the chariotwheels of the Roman conquerors, to serve in ornamenting Rome and other Italian cities, they were looked down upon by those military barbarians; and these ennobling arts, with their possessors, were regarded in no other light than as mechanical, and mechanics. Thus misunderstood and maltreated, they naturally sank to a level with the heavy and gross ideas and requirements of their new masters; consequently a barbarous system of adorning the palaces and mansions of the wealthy Romans put gradually to flight every vestige of good taste in the pictorial art, and then gaudy colouring, mosaics, and gilding in profusion, usurped the place of intellectual beauty, grace, truth of nature, and expression.*

* Even at this period some works of art were executed in fresco and mosaics, by Greek artists, which would be creditable to any age of Greek art.

The constantly increasing progress of luxury contributed also to the degradation of good taste, genuine art was attacked, as it were, vitally. Pliny and Vitruvius have strongly expressed their regret, that the wealthy people of their time, who ornamented their immense mansions with paintings, preferred the false splendour of gaudy colours of the most rare and costly description, to the mental fascinations of fine compositions, or nobleness of expression and purity of design. “The ancient masters,” say these authors, “were admired for the real beauties seen in their works; whilst those of the present period are only distinguished by the enormous outlay in which they involve their employers.” This vicious practice originated when painting, having departed from its moral and true character, was looked upon merely as a simple means of decoration. Heliogabalus, Gallienus, and Aurelian† especially, as well as their successors, favoured this movement by their inordinate ostentation and love of vulgar parade. Gold and vermilion were plentifully distributed through the paintings with which the walls of the palaces were covered, not adorned, and these gaudy incidents formed the chief merit of those works in the eyes of the ignorant judges of art. Quite satisfied if he could dazzle the eyes of his admirers, the painter neglected to elevate the thoughts and speak to the heart; soon, therefore, the canons transmitted down, for that purpose, from the ancient schools being neglected were forgotten.

† The barbarian who ordered the sublime Longinus to be assassinated for having dared to defend his country’s independence.

It was that strange desire for novelty and for extraordinary things, which began in the time of Augustus Cæsar, that led a great many of the rich patricians to prefer the fantastical patterns, which ornamented the drapery stuffs of India, to the poetical, elevating, and expressive subjects of the Greek artists. Similar to this was that vulgar love of display, which commenced just previous to the reign of Claudius, and infected the Romans with a strong desire to employ mosaic painting, which previously had been only used for floors, to decorate the walls, and soffits of arches in their great mansions. And in this mechanical art Commodus caused the portrait of Pescenius Niger, to be executed. The brightness of the marbles, fine stones, gilding, and coloured glass, which entered into the composition of this sort of pictures,* and, perhaps, the extravagant price of the work was a further inducement to shallow minds, which could not consider any thing fine that was not rich and gaudy.

* This false taste will recall to the minds of some of our readers the celebrated observation of Apelles to his pupil, who had painted Helen decked out in a profusion of jewellery, “O young man,” said the judicious artist, “not being capable of making the lady handsome, you have made her rich.”

SECTION V.
ARABESQUE.

It was in the times of Marc Antony and Augustus,* that the style known as Arabesque painting was originally introduced at Rome. The models, or patterns for this class of ornament, came originally from India to Egypt, where the Ptolemies had established manufactories of printed cloths, of a very similar sort to those known as “India patterns.” It has generally been believed that Arabesques are of much later date, but the mention of it expressly by Vitruvius, Apuleius, and Claudian, leave no doubt on the subject. The first-mentioned writer complains seriously of this new style of painting, which he considered to be equally contrary to the true principles, as it is to the moral tendencies of art. These Arabesques presented to the eye, little more than what we call, laying in the first painting, or dead colouring of a subject, and by no means offered careful and exact imitations of the objects intended to be represented; but, to make up for its want of true beauty, it was made to glow with gold, azure, and scarlet,—the tints of the emerald, the ruby, the sapphire, amethyst, and beryl, were mingled in the greatest profusion amongst innumerable and equally unintelligible devices; the whole interior of the state apartments in those great edifices were made to resemble walls and ceilings covered with gold, and inlaid with the most brilliant and costly of the precious stones. Amongst the Mahometan nations, this florid style of decoration has always been in high reputation, and has been employed extensively in their mosques, palaces, and harems. The Moors in Spain were the greatest admirers and patronizers of this dazzling nonentity of painting, and they have left in that land of misrule some of the finest specimens of their fancy in this art: of these remains of Moorish magnificence, the celebrated palace of the “Hambra,” near Cordova, not only is the most remarkable as to its architecture, but is also the finest specimen of Arabesque work in existence.*

* At this time also, painting on walls in size colour (afterwards varnished) was introduced at Rome. At the same period, luxury required that the apartments which were not hung with the richly coloured cloths of India, should be completely covered with ornamental paintings.

* A most accurate and satisfactory knowledge of this splendid ruin may be obtained by consulting Mr. Owen Jones’s admirable and valuable work on this interesting subject.

This great corruption of taste continued, and rather increased under the various successors of Augustus; of that fact, the remains of such of their gorgeous palaces as time and violence have spared, give sufficient evidence. The baths of Titus, of Carracalla, and those stupendous Thermæ of Dioclesian,† and his palace at Salona, or Spalatro, which cover a space of fifteen acres, are imposing monuments of Roman grandeur. They present to the eye extensive and regular plans, majestic vaultings, grandeur of profiles, and a profusion of the richest ornaments, sufficient to astonish and confound in some degree the human mind. But good taste has evidently not been always the guide to the mind in the construction, and still less in the decoration of the several parts of these edifices; the fragments of sculpture are in a feigned, affected style, and incorrectly drawn, showing that bad taste prevailed in every walk of art.

† From Maximin to Dioclesian, the greater part of the emperors erected monuments, the dimensions and richness of which may well astonish us. In every province and city they consecrated portraits and statues to themselves. A statue of silver was erected to Claudius II., which weighed fifteen hundred pounds; likewise one of gold, ten feet high. Tacitus consecrated three statues of silver to the memory of Aurelian; Gallienus ordered a statue of himself to be erected larger than the colossal one of Nero, with a quadrigia proportionate to that immense figure. He died, however, before it was completed, and the work was abandoned.

SECTION VI.
THE BYZANTINE STYLE.

The various causes of this decay in art, acquired still greater force under the successor of Dioclesian, whose accession to the purple made important and extensive changes in the religion and policy of the Roman empire.

Constantine, who became a convert to the Christian religion, did not adopt either the true spirit or the manners of a Christian.*

* Directly after having overthrown Maxentius, who was a pagan, he allowed the cities in Africa to dedicate temples to the princes of the Flavian family, and to allow the base and grovelling senate of Rome to decree divine honours to himself; more ostentatious than Dioclesian, who, in that respect, had far surpassed all his predecessors, Constantine was vain enough to wear constantly rich robes of gold tissue, a golden diadem loaded with pearls, a gold collar and bracelets, &c. The princes, his sons, were attired in a manner equally effeminate and oriental. On his entry into Rome, after having defeated Maxentius, he caused medals to be struck (A. D. 315, &c.) to commemorate his victory. On these he is represented with his head veiled, and qualified as Divus Constantinus, Sol invectus comes, &c.; Euseb. Vit. Const. Eutrop., &c.

Instead, therefore, of displaying these features so very essential in the character of a truly Christian believer, this emperor was possessed with an extraordinary desire, a sort of cacoethes for city and church building. If, therefore, to conduct the arts to the highest state of perfection, it be sufficient, as sometimes has been advanced, to distribute amongst these professors great works whereon to exercise their talents, the reign of Constantine would have been one of the most glorious in the annals of the arts; for the emperor choosing to remove the seat of empire from Rome to Byzantium* an ancient Greek town on the Bosphorus, rapidly raised an enormous city for that purpose. Here, then, was an incident never to be forgotten – which gave an opportunity to the artists of Greece and Italy to develop all the resources of their genius.† This master of the world, who was most anxious that the Rome of his creating should quite eclipse the grandeur of the ancient capital of his empire, dispersed his treasures profusely in its embellishments. The extensive marble quarries of Phrygia, and the Island of Preconnessus were already exhausted in this object. Not less than fourteen palaces, for the emperor, his sons, and his ministers; an equal number of temples for Christian worship; a vast forum surrounded by a peristyle, terminated by two grand triumphal arches; within it a lofty column with a colossal statue of the emperor; a second forum equally vast, called Augustæum; a hippodrome; eight public baths;* – all these monuments, and many others, were constructed and decorated under the superintendence of the pompous head of the state. The chefs-d’œuvres of the arts, dragged from Greece, Rome, and Asia, were not enough to ornament his new city. Constantine ordered a vast number of pictures, statues, and bas-reliefs to be executed, to represent Jesus, the Virgin, the prophets, apostles, &c. Marble, bronze, and gold, displayed on all sides to admiring crowds the triumphs of this prince; his statues, and those of his mother, his children, his favourites, and of several wealthy Romans who had contributed to the embellishment of his new city,† now called Constantinople; and at the same period he commanded that churches should be built in a great number of places. It has been justly remarked that Pericles, Augustus, and other celebrated men have expended sums of money, far less considerable on improvements, and have been immortalized by them; whilst, on the other hand, the works left by Constantine strongly attest the degradation into which the arts had fallen, and continued during his time.

* This place gives name to the Byzantine style of architecture and decoration, which put the Arabesque out of fashion in those countries.

† The Fine Arts were regarded in ancient Greece as being well worthy the best attention of its legislators; but at the time Constantine mounted the throne, the fine moral causes of the glory of the ancient masters no longer existed.

* For these he deserves much commendation.

† One batch of statues which he had stuck up and down, in the cathedral of Santa Sophia, amounted to four hundred and twenty-seven; the greater part of these had been taken from Greece and Asia. They were chiefly the deities and heroes of paganism; others were intended to represent Jesus Christ, the Virgin, St. Helena, Constantine, and divers princes – “a goodlie companye,” says an old writer. That it might be, but certainly a most incongruous mixture. Some of the masterpieces of the greatest sculptors of Greece were grouped with the clumsy, mechanical, carved images of the Roman workmen.

This was the epoch in which that style denominated “the Byzantine”‡ rioted in all its false glory.

‡ In this style the groundwork or surface of the wall was richly gilt, and upon that, scriptural subjects were inserted in mosaics, painting being very rarely employed.

From the time of Septimus Severus the despotism of the Roman emperors fell heavily on the Greeks, and overlaid even the germs of public prosperity amongst that interesting people; the natural ardour of their minds was discouraged, emulation destroyed, and from that era painting, sculpture, and architecture constantly degenerated; so that, when Constantine came to the throne, the causes which led to the moral glory of the arts, and the renown of the ancient masters, had wholly disappeared.

Hence it will not be difficult to comprehend the debased character of the arts at this period; confused forms and allegories inexplicable, as they always are, were mingled in a sort of mechanical arrangement, we must not say order, with coarse, often ugly, frequently frightful, but always incorrect representations of the human countenance, the lower animals, reptiles, and other objects of natural history. These heterogeneous mixtures of incongruous and discordant parts were, however, the fashion of that day. The noble, ancient style of painting was looked down upon with disdain by the semibarbarians who directed, and the sordid manipulators, not artists, who executed these gaudy fermentations of decaying intellect. And, as if to make those manifestations of their imbecility indestructible, they had these sordid devices imbodied in the solid marble incrustations on the walls, ceilings, and soffits of arches of the Christian temples, and all the other great edifices of Constantinople. Procopius* with great simplicity, when boasting of the works set up by these emperors, tells us that “the pictures which adorn the grand vaulted ceilings of the churches and other public edifices, are not, as formerly was the case, painted with a composition of wax, and imbodied firmly with the surface of the wall by a strong heat; they are now composed of small cubes, which sparkle with great brilliancy.

* Procopius was an historian and monk, of the Lower Empire, who wrote in the time of the emperor Justinian.

This refers to mosaic painting, which had, from very humble beginnings, long been creeping into the track, and gradually displacing the noble art of fresco, which had been carried on from the days of the great Greek artists, as we have seen, until the vulgar minds of the Roman emperors, and debased people, strangely corrupted, and eventually destroyed amongst this race the intellectual character of the arts.

SECTION VII.
MOSAICS.

Of this spurious style of “painting,” as it was then called, there were two descriptions, – namely, opus tessellatum and opus sectile. In the first sort coloured glass was chiefly used, in the second marble only, which was cut into the form required by the pattern.

It may not be superfluous here to remark that the essential merit of mosaic work, in its best state, consists in its durability; when used as a means of transmitting fine pictures from perishable surfaces, they thus become almost indestructible. But it is by no means a vehicle which a man of genius could employ to imbody at once the creations of his mind; with pictorial originality it therefore has no connexion; consequently its operations must be confided to a class of subalterns, —in fact, workmen whose only merit consisted in a dexterity of hand, acquired by experience, but from whom, if they should venture out of the beaten track, and attempt original composition, it would be absurd to expect any thing like purity of design, grandeur and elegance of thought, true effect, or harmony of colouring; indisputably they would degrade and impoverish even the inferior designs of their contemporaries, and thus in proportion as the principles of the ancient, and good style of painting were neglected, to give this mode a preference, so the fall of the arts became rapidly accelerated.

Had great riches ever been a guarantee of good taste, then most assuredly Constantine might have patronized noble works, and some men might have acquired immortal renown:* but this emperor only solved that problem, he clearly demonstrated that immense wealth did not necessarily create, or even preserve good taste; although if the resources of wealth were applied in aid of the truly intellectual creations of the liberal arts, the nearest approach to perfection would then be achieved.

* Many facts prove that Constantine did not employ the ablest artists of his time.

As it was, however, nothing could be done to convince this pompous monarch of these errors; consequently all the temples, public edifices, and great mansions of Constantinople, and other great cities under his influence, had their walls incrusted with various and richly coloured marbles, and further enriched with paintings, such as they were, sculpture equally crude, a profusion of gilding, and mosaic work, prodigiously magnificent according to the spurious notions then prevalent, and this Byzantine style continued down to the middle ages; and of this manner, Venice perhaps, of all the modern cities still possesses the best examples.

It is a very curious fact, and worthy of being well investigated by a philosophical historian, that although that branch of Christianity, “the church of Rome,” greatly favoured the advancement of the arts, under the pontificates of Benedict XI., Julius II., and Leo X., yet, at the epoch when the Christian faith, under Constantine, triumphed over the ancient superstitions, the immoderate zeal of the Christians produced the most disastrous effects upon works of genius. The emperor, after having proclaimed to the full extent liberty of worship in his vast domains, soon afterwards interdicted his pagan subjects from sacrificing to idols, and caused these images to be broken and then shut up, dismantled, or utterly demolished their temples. In the sanguinary punishments which the Christians were so eager to execute upon the vanquished party—the inanimate gods of antiquity had their share of vengeance—the most beautiful works of Grecian genius were, if of bronze, thrown into the furnace,—if of marble, laid in the streets and roads for the waggons and other vehicles to crush them into dust. When any of these statues were transported to Constantinople, it was publicly announced that they had been strangled as criminals, and that they were sent to the capital for the purpose of being exposed to the ridicule of “the Faithful.”* This very ridiculous and barbarous zeal of Constantine was followed up vigorously by most of the princes who succeeded him, and especially by Theodosius the Great, than whom perhaps a greater ruffian never existed. The sound of the sledgehammer during his reign and for long afterwards, was heard throughout the Roman empire, demolishing not unfrequently the finest works of Phidias, Praxiteles, Polycletus Callimachus, Scopas, Myron, &c.

* The Roman empire at this time, has been considered little better than a “vast Lunatic Asylum,” so far as the fine arts were concerned.

In this savage fashion – for it was then fashionable to overthrow the works of resplendent genius – almost all the models of fine taste were annihilated; and these unhappy circumstances soon introduced amongst the schools of art the most fatal vices, which are sufficient to ensure the total ruin of art, – particularly a practice which we regret to say is more or less to be found in every school of painting in Europe at this day, though in a much less degree than it existed fifty years ago. This vice is the habit or manner contracted by the degenerate Greeks of that time, when they left off studying the living models, and painted entirely or designed, merely from their own imagination, or recollections of nature. There are in fact two sources of errors, equally dangerous to good art; one is “presumption,” which leads an artist into the belief that, as the human models are all more or less imperfect in some parts, he ought only to consult his own ideas on the subject, and that by so doing he would be able to create forms of a preternatural beauty. The other great fault is “negligence,” which prompts him to imitate nature from recollection for the purpose of accelerating his work, and diminishing his fatigues.* But he should not deceive himself, whether presumptuous or negligent, whenever the artist turns away from living nature, and thinks only of following a model conceived in his own imagination, he has then in fact no other guide than his memory.

* Labour is the price which the gods have fixed on every thing valuable.

Those who flatter themselves with the idea of improving, or embellishing “the human form divine,” by forms unknown to nature, greatly deceive themselves; for should they not trace the objects they have seen in nature herself, or in the fine imitations of that source of beauty, they will only create monstrosities; – a correct memory may sometimes, no doubt, reform parts of the living model, but it can never supply its place. These two causes of error lead to the same unhappy termination: the painter who habitually allows himself to make designs without placing the human model in his view, departs constantly from the truth—for the same forms are reproduced each day by his pencil; abandoned to mannerism, he soon finds this machine to be his master, and he cannot lay it aside. His productions are besides, nerveless, cold, and conventional; and though some excellent parts may be found in his pictures, they never excite any of the lively and agreeable sensations which truth alone is capable of making us feel.

The mere love of gain, likewise, contributed very much to the ruin of art. Libanius relates that in his time the youth of Antioch would have abandoned the schools of the rhetoricians and philosophers, if the professors had required the smallest compensation; but that on the contrary they paid most cheerfully for their lessons in drawing and painting. The teachers in these arts gained considerable sums, which they often spent in luxury and extravagance. “By what artifice,” he adds, “do you suppose they captivated their votaries? They taught them to paint rapidly!” The arts of design, therefore, became very much diffused, men of mean and sordid notions, not minds, – as now and then happens amongst ourselves, – dishonestly took upon them the office of teachers in these charming arts: the eager desire to get money and the real ignorance of these incapables, caused them to adopt every species of quackery, and consequently their unhappy dupes were taught only false principles and bad taste.

In stern opposition to such base and injurious practices, should they unhappily exist amongst us, we would quote the invaluable advice of an ancient writer of great eminence; his words are, “Artists, men of letters, do not by any means hasten the execution of your works: Phidias produced masterpieces of art, which he could not have achieved, had he not employed sufficient time about them.”*

* Themistius, Orat. xxv., p. 310.

Such was the state of the arts under Constantine and his sons. A display of gaudy richness of colours and materials was preferred to chaste beauty – the simple grace and grandeur of the Grecian antique was proscribed by the barbaric pride of Rome. And in architecture, nobleness of style had disappeared under heavy forms, loaded with ornament. In painting, drawing or design was wholly neglected, the study of anatomy abandoned, – draperies being easier managed, still presented some remarkable traits of the good style; the head still displayed an air of truth, and even of just expression, but the outlines of the figures were mostly poor and heavy, the articulations of the joints especially, manifested a falling off, a want of anatomical propriety; and this radical vice, exposing as it did the ignorance of the designers, demonstrated more than any thing else that the career of degradation in the arts progressed, but had not yet terminated. It was about this time also, that the Byzantine style of art was in its meridian – of course nothing further need be said as to the corruption and bad taste by which it is characterized. No doubt all this charmed, as superficial finery ever will, the mass of people sunk in vice and barbarism, but to the eye of true taste it presents no intellectual charms, from which genuine art could derive any advantage.

FRESCO IN INDIA, AMERICA, &C.

Very numerous examples exist of the remote, as well as more recent employment of fresco in the temples, extensively spread over the vast region of India, but they do not offer any features of superior art; symbols and allegories connected with their system of polytheism, are the chief subjects of their graphic attention and exertions, and there display a profusion of barbaric ornaments and gaudy colouring, gilding, &c., expensive but not refined, as our recent publications on India clearly demonstrate.

CENTRAL AMERICA. – Mexico and Yucatan, are remarkable for the immense masses of fresco painting found in the tombs and temples of those countries. With respect to those found in Mexico Proper, the reading public have long been made acquainted; but those of Yucatan* have very recently been discovered, and although the frescos found in the vast ruinous buildings of beautifully-wrought stonework are not of a higher grade of art than those usually found in the Egyptian ruins, to which by the way they bear a striking analogy, yet they afford another convincing proof of the strong affection which the human mind has ever displayed for the pictorial art, and also of the inseparable union that has ever existed in the human mind from the earliest dawn of civilization; with regard to the three great sections of the fine arts, painting, sculpture, and architecture; and in regions vastly remote, and widely different from each other in soil, language, habits, and climate. In further corroboration of this view of the subject we offer to our readers an interesting extract from a work very recently published.

* Yucatan is a peninsula, about the size of Ireland. It is situated to the northward of Mexico, opposite to the isle of Cuba, and between the bays of Campeachy and Honduras.

 “The interior of some of the most important of these rooms are finished in a beautiful white composition laid on with the greatest skill. Fresco painting in these rooms is also observable, and the colours still in good preservation, sky-blue and light green being the most remarkable; figures in various characters are discernible,” &c. – Norman’s Visit to the Ruined Cities of Yucatan. New York. 1843.

pp. 26–34

CHAPTER II.

SECTION I.
FRESCO IN THE MIDDLE AGES.

HAVING traced the progress of fresco painting from its perceptible origin, through numerous centuries, regions, and peoples, the latter widely dissimilar to each other in language, manners, and customs, we now arrive at the period when this most ancient and admired art was resuscitated, like as it were a phœnix from its ashes; into which cinerous condition it might be said to have been reduced in the corrupt epoch that manifested its approach in the time of Augustus Cæsar, and attained its acme of false principles, ignorance, and bad taste, under Constantine and his immediate successors.

The renovation of fresco, like the upward course of art at all times, was extremely slow, for it had continued during so many ages in a state of subordinate, or, in fact, degraded existence, that it was merely considered as a handmaid in the mechanic art of decoration: regarded therefore with strong prejudices from the fact of its being seen for centuries always in inferior company, it cannot excite any wonder that its fitness for any better situation must have been very much doubted; consequently it crept on in this obscure entanglement, chiefly employed in the representations of saints in various states, either of beatitude or torture, and reached at last that climax of bad taste – representations of Christ naked,* with spike-nails driven through his hands and feet to fasten him on the cross. Many other of those pious frescos were even more barbarous, absurd,† and disgusting, not only as to the subjects, but the treatment of them; and as it would only fatigue our readers, without offering them any adequate advantage, to enlarge upon this state of the arts, we shall go directly to a period when fresco painting once more disencumbered itself from the chaos of bad taste and barbaric ornament, in which it had for so very long a time been enshrouded, to take its lofty station in a higher degree than it had ever before attained.

* Not only naked as to garments, but quite denuded of all beauty, grace, and majesty. At a much earlier period – viz., in the fourth, fifth, and early part of the sixth century, we find frescos of a superior character at Rome. They are in the catacombs of St. Callista, St. Marcellin, St. Agnes, St. Priscilla, &c. Some of the figures are remarkable for the elegance of their forms, and good taste in composition; amongst them Jesus is represented as “the good shepherd;” with a Pandean pipe; in others, as Orpheus, with a Phrygian bonnet, and playing on the lyre, with which he charms the surrounding animals. Their elevated style shows that they are by the hands of Greek artists. The Crucifixions, however, did not come into fashion until the middle of the sixth century, and France has the credit of this invention. “Gregory of Tours mentions one which had recently been set up in the cathedral of Narbonne. The Saviour was quite naked, and the bishop caused a curtain to be placed before it. This is the earliest on record.”—Emmeric David, “Histoire de la Peinture.”

† It was at a much later period that painters ventured to represent “the Eternal Father” under a human form, and to enclose that pure essence in a carnal body! It is to the happy confidence of some French artists that the Christian world is indebted for the first attempt to represent that which reason tells us cannot be represented, and which good sense will ever restrain its possessors from attempting, and to which misrepresentations the common sense of mankind had, up to that period, shown very great repugnance. The work in which this rare specimen has been discovered is a large and handsome folio Latin bible, on vellum; in the Cabinet Royal de France (No. I. Manuscrits Latin). This work was given to Charles the Bald by the canons of the church of St. Martin of Tours, in the year 850. “The Eternal” is painted four times in the first miniature, which is divided into three parts; viz., speaking to Adam, whom he has just created, touching the side of the first man who sleeps—presenting Eve to him—and calling the guilty pair after they have eaten the forbidden fruit. The Creator is represented as a man of about thirty years, without a beard, feet naked, clothed in a blue tunic, with red and gold mantle, round his head a golden nimbus, bordered with red. He holds a sceptre in his hand!

This pleasing change did not become apparent until the time of Cimabue,* although the Emperor Charlemagne had laid down positive regulations for raising the sums necessary for rebuilding or repairing churches, &c., and for ornamenting them with paintings; yet at the same time he unwittingly caused immense mischief to the arts, by the military system he introduced of clothing his troops in heavy armour; this innovation was imitated all over Europe, and quite destroyed what ever remained of sound or just ideas relative to the symmetry or beauty of the human form.

* About A. D. 1230.

The revival of learning in the ninth and tenth centuries, was extremely favourable to the restoration of good taste in the fine arts, a reformation which was beginning to be required, in the same degree that the minds of the people became enlightened, and fresco, from its cheapness, durability, and grandeur, became the favourite vehicle, in preference to encaustic and détrempe; for, although the mixing of oil with colours was known in the eleventh century, it does not appear that this combination was in any request as a vehicle for pictorial operations until after the time of John and Hubert Van Eyck, who made so great an improvement in it, as to render it quite subservient to the artist’s wishes, and these artists have consequently been denominated “the inventors of oil painting.” (1420.)

A vast number of abbeys and cathedral churches, chiefly in Southern Europe, and many in England, called into activity the knowledge that then existed in the arts, and thus the artists gradually increased in numbers and practical skill; the general taste also became improved as knowledge, literature, and science, expanded.

The Crusades, also, eventually produced a favourable influence upon both literature and the arts; – the pious activity which was excited against the infidels, although it did not rescue the Holy Land from the Moslems’ grasp, except for a short time, produced effects, perhaps, as beneficial to mankind by the improvements which this immense commotion led to in arts, literature, manufactures, and commerce, during that period which lasted above a century. The monarchs, princes, and nobles, who returned from the eastern crusades, many of whom were men of superior minds, saw much that they perceived might be introduced with advantage amongst their own subjects and tenantry. Thus a new style was intro duced into architecture, one very superior to that of the former massive edifices, which were various modifications of the debased Roman style. Lightness and elegance being thus introduced, the religious edifices were found to be much better calculated to exhibit pictorial compositions than the previous style;* and thus the art of fresco painting received a powerful stimulus, which a succession of causes kept alive for above four centuries; and although from various causes, not necessary to be stated here, that excitement has long subsided, yet the practical knowledge of this art has been well preserved, together with accurate theories of the various methods adopted at different periods, and all the colours and materials used in its operations, a complete account of which will be laid before our readers in the course of this work; but it is requisite that those whom we have to instruct should know that although the artists of the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries employed the same sort of materials, and used similar modes of operating to those now in use, in the production of their works, that nevertheless their knowledge of the best principles of high art were very limited in many respects. Their intentions, however, were of an elevated character, nothing sordid, mean, or vulgar, in character or sentiment, was ever permitted to intrude into their compositions, which were numerous, the subjects for the greater part being taken from sacred history.

* The abbey of Clugny (near Maçon, in France), rebuilt 1130, was one of the first great ecclesiastical buildings into which the pointed style, or lancet window, was introduced. The storm of the French revolution, in 1790, damaged it very much; but the original large frescos of its lofty walls still remain in tolerable preservation.

The gradual progression of the art may be traced with much regularity by the specimens of various ages which still ornament the situations where they were originally placed, from before the time of Cimabue, to the resplendent works of L. da Vinci, Raffaelle, M. Angelo, Correggio, &c., and, in fact, to a much later period, for we are not aware that the practice was ever wholly discontinued even for a single year in Italy. Those produced in the *cinque cento* were the great masterpieces of fine composition, purity of design, – that is, correct and elevated drawing of the living model, propriety and harmony of colouring, the chiaro-oscuro, or masses of light, opposed to masses of shadow, were not so much the subject of the artists’ attention, but unity of action and truth of expression in form, countenance, and attitude, were strictly required.

To such of our readers as have not seen the works alluded to, which have stood for many centuries as examples of the durability of fresco painting, are several by Giotto, at Assizi, at Pisa, &c. At Florence, those of Benozzo Gozzoli, Massaccio, A. de Fiesole, &c. Of P. Perugino at Perugia, of Avanzo at Padua. At Rome, Siena, Orvieto, Pisa, &c., there are various examples in good preservation. All these belong to the fourteenth and early part of the fifteenth century, and, therefore, are interesting in a variety of ways; some have stood very well for six hundred years, others in rather less time have been injured by damp, but the chief cause undoubtedly is, that the latter have been painted on badly prepared walls, a circumstance which, however strange it may seem, is very common in Italy, for it appears but too evident, that Roman masons always rely too much on thick coats of rough cast or plaster to cover the irregularities and defects of their workmanship; and this slovenly practice appears to have existed amongst them for at least five centuries, to the injury of some and ruin of other fine frescos. In fact, Signor Colombo, of Rome, a person of great experience, declares that “the Roman masonry from the cottage to the palace, is the worst in Italy.” And Mr. Professor Wilson further remarks that, “where such remarkable carelessness as to the quality of the masonry has been exhibited, instead of being surprised at the present state of the frescos we ought rather to wonder that they are preserved at all.” And Signor Bosio* says, “Since the building of what may be called modern Rome, the greatest carelessness has prevailed as to the materials, execution, and finish of the masonry, and the same processes have been resorted to down to modern times.” The Venetians have shown themselves clumsy plasterers beyond all others, the works of Pordenone, especially, exhibit the rudest workmanship, the surface being very uneven and the joinings of the intonaco, which mark the different days’ work, being very carelessly done. This is also the case in the frescos of Titian. The Florentine practice is better, but still far from presenting, in many of the early examples, sufficient attention to the preparation of the surface. If the wall happened to be even, the plaster was made so; but if the wall was uneven, so also was the plaster!

* As clerk of the works, he superintended the erection of the Braccio Nuovo in the Vatican, and on that occasion had opportunities of examining the walls built by Alexander VI. and other pontiffs, down to the time of Sextus V. These walls, he says, are of the class just now described, and are executed in a careless and insufficient manner; and, in fact, all the old foundations of the Vatican buildings are faulty, which causes the bulging seen in the plaster of the stanze, which injure the effect, and will, to all appearance, eventually destroy the splendid frescos of Raffaelle.

It is quite evident therefore, that Italian workmen in this line, or any workmen who would work in so slovenly and dishonest a manner, must not be employed to prepare walls for fresco painting; and on this very important subject ample instructions will be found in this manual. Fortunately, however, for our artists who may embark in fresco painting, they need be under no sort of apprehension, as to the soundness of the walls, or the skill and carefulness of the workmen, for in these respects our masons and stucco plasterers are not to be surpassed as a class, or perhaps hardly to be equalled by any workmen in Europe: unlike the lazy Italians, British workmen feel a proper pride in turning their work out of hand in a manner likely to do themselves credit and give satisfaction to their employers. We therefore commence our instructions in this art, by showing how the walls should be prepared, so as to give the best possible guarantee for the preservation of the works of genius, of which they are to be the permanent depositories.

pp. 35–53

CHAPTER III.

SECTION I.
THE PREPARATION OF THE WALLS.

THIS very important operation is twofold, first as relates to the solid masonry of the building, and then as to the preparation of the surface for the paintings. “In raising the wall of an edifice whereon frescos are to be painted, too much care cannot be taken to prevent the admission amongst the materials, of either saline or alkaline matter, animal and vegetable substances it is well known ferment, and their decomposition produces saline or alkaline matter, by which moisture is rapidly absorbed; every precaution should therefore be taken to prevent such substances being admitted into a building where damp walls might be a matter of serious detriment to other objects. The practice of allowing workmen to urinate against the inside angles and recesses of an unfinished building, is also highly objectionable; where many workmen are employed for years, the quantity of moisture must saturate some parts of the building past all remedy. There are many other sources by which salts may be conveyed into the walls of an edifice, and these may be much diminished.

Mr. C. H. Smith, in his valuable communication on the causes of, and means of preventing appearances of saltpetre from coming out on the surfaces of walls, expressly says, “Under ordinary circumstances it is scarcely possible to get rid of the various saline or deliquescent substances that have once been admitted into the walls of a building. The fixed alkalies (potass and soda), may probably be considered imperishable, no length of time can injure them, they may effloresce, or rather they may crystallize on the surface of a wall, and totally or partially disappear again and again, as often as a change in temperature, or of dryness or humidity takes place; these changes may be daily, or the salts may remain inactive during ages, and from some favourable cause a crop of crystals may be produced as vigorously as if the wall had recently been finished, the only way to abate the evil is to brush off the crystals whenever they appear to be in the most flourishing condition. If potash has been introduced into the walls, either from the putrefaction of animal or vegetable substances, or from other sources, however thick the wall may be, it will make its way to the surface, and then absorbing nitrogen from the atmosphere, which contains seventy or eighty per cent. of that substance, “nitrate of potash” or saltpetre is produced, salts are generally communicated to a building, in weak solutions, the water very gradually evaporates, carrying with it from the interior of the wall, the molecules that compose salt. The solution having arrived at the surface so as to be freely in contact with the atmosphere (always so essential to crystallization), evaporation continues until the solution is sufficiently strong to crystallize, still leaving the mother water in the wall, which is indicated by a certain dampness.”

From this extract our readers will readily perceive how very essential it is to the preservation of frescos, or indeed interior decorations of any kind, that the solid masonry of the walls should be soundly and honestly built, from the foundation to the wall plate, otherwise there is no saying what extent of injury to valuable works of art may be the consequence, which common care and common honesty would have prevented.

The solid wall, therefore, having been constructed as it should be, and as such walls are very likely to be constructed by our best builders, – and after it shall have been allowed to dry for three, four, or more years, after having had its interior carefully rough plastered, – the fresco painter then begins to look at it with serious intentions of commencing his work; and if he be a prudent man, he will not fail to take counsel from some experienced builder as to the state of dryness in which the wall may be; then if the wall to be painted is covered with old mortar, the ingredients of which are unknown, this coat should be entirely stripped off until the under materials are laid bare; the rough coat then applied is to be composed of river sand and lime. The proportions of the sand to the lime may vary in different climates, the chief builder and mason are sufficiently experienced on these points. In Italy it appears that two parts of sand were added to one of lime. The Germans generally use more sand, – namely, three parts to one of lime. The thickness of the coat is such as is generally used in preparing the walls of dwelling-houses; the surface of this first application should be rough, but not equally so, and the mason should carefully avoid leaving cavities in it.

The wall thus prepared, should be suffered to harden perfectly; the longer it remains in this state, the safer it will be, especially if the lime used was in the first instance fresh; in that case, two or three years should elapse before any subsequent operations are undertaken.

Professor Hess, in speaking on this subject, recommends “bricks well dried, and of equal hardness,” as the groundwork of the mortar and plaster, all the frescos at Munich are painted on the (plastered) brick wall: laths, with wattling and copper nails are not approved of, as the risk of bulging is thereby increased. The use of laths is sometimes necessary for certain surfaces, but the professors in Munich are decided that a brick ground is to be preferred whenever it is practicable, not only on account of its solidity, but because it is better adapted to the execution of the painting. The brick ground absorbs superfluous water, and keeps the plaster much longer in a fit state for painting upon. The painting ground (intonaco) dries much quicker on laths; as two surfaces are presented for evaporation, the main wall should be thoroughly dry; a wall of one brick, or a brick and half in thickness, is preferable to paint upon. Professor Hess states, that where the walls in the lower portions of buildings were five or six feet thick, the liability of saline matter making its appearance was much increased, as the mass of wall remains longer in a humid state.

In Italy the practice of lathing walls is hardly known, but many of the finest Italian ceiling frescos are on lath, and are in perfect condition. Most vaulted ceilings, in what is called the piano nobile, or principal floor of every palace, are constructed of wood; the lathing in this case is not attached to single thin pieces of timber cut to the shape of the ceiling, but to a strong grating; in some cases the ribs and transverse pieces of this grating are four inches thick each way. The lathing in Italy is a very peculiar process. The material is the reed which is cultivated so extensively in that country, and used in so many ways: it grows to the length of eighteen or twenty feet, and is nearly an inch and a half in diameter at the base. When these reeds are used for lathing, they are split, and not being strong enough for the purpose in this state, are wattled upon the grating, the result of this contrivance is a framework of great strength.

Mr. Hamilton (architect), of Edinburgh, observes, “In the preparation of walls and ceilings for fresco painting, no expense should be spared, battens and lath are obviously perishable materials, and therefore ought to be avoided, the damp from exterior stone walls may be guarded against by lining them with brick, and now that the use of cast iron is so well understood, the girders or joistings of the houses where fresco painting is contemplated should be of iron, arched with bricks between, and thus a perfectly level ceiling may be formed, of the most durable kind.” For the more effectual prevention of damp, Mr. Hamilton recommends that the brick lining should be somewhat detached, leaving a small space between it and the solid wall, to which it could be bound at intervals.* Mr. Wilson suggests, that strong tiles, placed edgewise, would answer this purpose without materially diminishing the area of the rooms. Vitruvius proposes, that where there is danger of damp affecting the coats of plaster, a thin brick wall should be carried up within, and in some measure detached from the main wall. These methods are all similar to the ancient practice, so fully demonstrated by specimens amongst the ruins of Pompeii, where the stuccos and painted walls are found to have been constructed with brick or rather tiles placed edgewise, and connected by leaden cramps to the main wall, from which this brick lining is detached a trifling distance.

* Some specimens, which were shown to Mr. Wilson from the Loggia, painted by G. da Udine, exhibited three coats of plaster, the first (next the lath) was of lime and coarse sand – it was one quarter of an inch thick; the next (same thickness) was of lime and pozzolana; and the last, or intonaco, was of lime and marble-dust, by no means very finely pulverized. This corresponds with ancient examples. In the baths of Titus will be found—first lime and coarse sand half an inch thick, then lime and pozzolana one inch in thickness, in which there is an admixture of sand and pounded brick – the last, or surface coat, is of lime and pounded marble. As to the two last coats, this is the very preparation used in Italy for floors, under the name of Venetian pavement, except that in the latter the fragments of brick and marble are much larger.

When timber partitions were to be covered with stucco, two layers of split reeds were nailed with broad-headed nails on the upright and cross pieces, the one vertically, the other horizontally, the double row of reeds, thus crossed and firmly fixed, prevents all cracks and fissures.

The coats of plaster, from the rough cast to the finished surface, were numerous—after the rough cast, three of lime and sand, and three of marble-dust and lime were applied, the last coat was often highly polished. – Vitruvius adds, “When only one coat of sand and lime, and one of marble-dust and lime are used, the plaster is easily broken, and cannot receive a brilliant polish.” When frescos were added, the surface was of course not so smooth. Vitruvius continues, “Colours, when carefully applied on moist stucco, do not fade, but on the contrary last for ever; because the lime having been deprived of moisture in the kiln, and having become porous and absorbent, readily imbibes whatever (moisture) comes in contact with it, and the whole when dry, becomes of one substance and quality. Hence stuccoed walls, when well executed, do not easily become dirty, nor do they lose their colours when they require to be washed, unless the painting had been carelessly done, or executed after the surface was dry.” This points out how essential a fine and even surface of wall is to the due effect of the paintings, the opposite to which, an undulating surface, is a serious evil, as it allows the dust to lodge in quantities, irregularly upon the frescos, as may be seen in many places, especially upon those in the Vatican.

This general evenness of the plaster does not suppose any unpleasant smoothness of surface in the fresco; in many Italian, and indeed in many antique mural paintings, the traces of the brush often indicate a considerable body of colour, but care appears to have been taken generally not to load the surface unequally. In a London atmosphere this comparative evenness of the surface might, according to the Vitruvian principle, protect the painting longer from smoke and dust, while it would assist the operation of cleaning; but the work might be protected by other means; the plaster might be applied, so that the face of the wall, at least in the portions of it intended to receive frescos, should not be quite perpendicular, but incline a little inwards towards the cornice of the room. As to the question of surfaces, it may be remarked, that the hardening of the lime takes place sooner in proportion to the roughness of the surface, smoothness of surface always presenting a great obstacle to the penetration of the carbonic acid.

Leon Battista Alberti, whose work is considered as the link connecting ancient with revived art, observes, that the more coats a wall receives, the better the surface may be polished, and the whole becomes more durable – he speaks of ancient examples in which there were nine successive coats. Alluding directly to the practice of his own time, he says, that no stucco should be composed of less than three coats. The first rough coat,* he directs to be composed of pit sand and pounded brick, the pieces of brick should not be pounded too small. For the second coat,† river sand should be mixed with the lime, being less apt to crack; this coat also should be rather rough, because nothing applied to a very smooth surface will adhere to it. The last coat‡ should be white as marble, in fact pounded white marble should be used instead of sand, this coat need not be thicker than half a finger’s breadth, or the sole of a dress shoe. He states that nails have been found fastened in the wall in some places, and time has proved that they had better be of bronze, than of iron. Instead of nails he prefers the practice of inserting thin pieces of flint, projecting edgewise from the joints of the stone, and driven in with a wooden mallet.

*Rinzoffato. † Arriciato. ‡ Intonaco (tunic).

Cennini who has recorded the old Florentine methods states that both the lime and sand ought to be well sifted. Should the lime be what is called a “rich lime,” and have been recently slaked, there should be two parts of sand to one of lime. On being slaked, it should be well mixed and stirred, and a sufficient quantity should be made to last fifteen or twenty days. It should then be suffered to remain for some days in order to render it less caustic, for if too caustic the intonaco* will blister. The mortar prepared as above serves for the first coat, the surface of which is to be left somewhat rough; the application of the thinner coat or painting ground is afterwards described, and the lime for this purpose is recommended to be well stirred and manipulated “until it appears like an ointment.”

* Cennini mentions but two coats, and applies the term intonaco to both.

SECTION II.
CENNINI’S PREPARATION OF LIME WHITE FOR FRESCO PAINTERS.

This brilliant white is called Bianco San Giovanni, and is thus made: Take very white slaked lime reduced to a fine powder, place it in a large tub and mix well with water, pouring off the water as the lime settles, and adding fresh for eight days; these evaporating, the soft lime is divided into cakes and placed to dry in the sun. The longer exposed the whiter they become; these are improved by being moistened again and well ground once or twice, it is then perfectly white, and without it flesh tints and other bright hues cannot be executed in fresco. Another method, from Armenini: “Take the whitest lime, such as is commonly found in Genoa, Milan, or Ravenna; this must be well washed before it is used, and the modes of preparing it are various. Some artists, in order to render the lime less caustic, boil a certain quantity of it well on a quick fire, and skim off the froth, it is then suffered to cool and settle in the open air; the water is poured off, and the lime placed on new sun-baked bricks; these absorb the moisture, and the lighter the lime (specifically) the purer it is found to be. Another mode is to bury the lime in the earth in proper vessels, after having thus washed it, and keep it thus several years before they bring it into use. Others expose it on the roofs of houses whilst it is undergoing this bleaching process. Others mix it in equal portions with marble-dust. But it has been found that if the lime is exposed to the air in a large vessel, and water that has been boiled poured upon it, the mixture should be well stirred; and if, the next day, it is spread in the sun it will be sufficiently purified, and may be used for painting the following day, but not for flesh tints, as these might undergo some change at the edges of the successive joining of plaster.

With respect to the brightness of the surface, it might be inferred that a mixture of so much sand with the lime must reduce it to a middle tint; Borghini alone notices this circumstance, and assumes that a slight tint of black is added to the plaster, perhaps when the sand is of too warm a colour. From the description of Leon Battista Alberti, it appears that the last coat was white, and the mixture of lime and marble-dust mentioned by Armenini seems to show that the same process was followed in the sixteenth century.

Armenini speaks of another process which agrees with the appearance which some of the older frescos display; he says that some painters were in the habit of covering the wall with a coat or two of whitewash just before they began to paint, in order to give more brilliancy to the superadded colours. He does not approve of the practice, as tending to injure the effect of the shadows; the practice, however, shows that in this case the intonaco was not in the first instance white.

As too much precaution cannot be taken with respect to the composition of mortar for fresco painting, our readers should be made aware, that a diversity of opinion has long existed with reference to the proportions of sand and lime to be combined. From such examination as it was possible to make, it appears certain that those frescos have stood best in which it is apparent that there is a considerable portion of sand in the lime. Mr. Wilson is disposed partly to attribute the bad state of the frescos by Correggio, in the Duomo of Parma, to his having used what is called a rich intonaco, or a preponderance of lime to sand; and the faintness of the colours is, perhaps, attributable to the same cause.*

* Vide Professor Wilson’s Report.

SECTION III.
FRESCOS EXECUTED UPON VARIOUS SORTS OF MASONRY.

Whatever the materials or workmanship of the wall may be, the immediate surface on which the pictures are painted must be plaster or stucco. The earliest examples of works in fresco, on the revival of the arts, are painted on ashlar walls in the “Italian Gothic” cathedrals of Orvieto and Siena, and more especially in the church of Assisi at Florence, where there still remain numerous specimens of the earliest revival of mural painting. In these buildings the interiors are finished in fine masonry; the walls have ashlar facings, both internally and externally, and their cores are rubble. In some parts the walls are of marble, in others of cut stone, other parts are of brick, but the cut stone workmanship is fine in every case. Previous to these ashlar walls being painted, one or two coats of plaster, but very thin, to avoid interfering with the details of the buildings, were laid on them as a preparation. This coating was generally formed of lime and sand, sometimes of lime and marble-dust, and on these absorbent grounds the pictures were painted, whilst the plaster was still moist; but, as the coating was thin, the plaster generally dried before the work was completed; the pictures were then completed in distemper. This mixed style of work cannot, therefore, be considered as pure fresco, but they are still in tolerable preservation; although the plaster has fallen away from the ashlar facing in several places, probably from damp through neglecting the roof.

At Orvieto, the walls of the Sacramente chapel are of fine, closely-jointed ashlar; but the plaster, having been laid upon the smooth surface of the wall, has fallen down almost entirely. The same has happened with regard to the plaster of the fine stonework of the opposite chapel. As an exception to these instances and others of the plaster falling off after a lapse of time from smooth hard surfaces, we have the example of some frescos painted upon plaster, laid on the marble wall of a small chapel in the cathedral of Siena, in which instance the plaster has not fallen down. In general, however, the plaster is easily detached from ashlar walls, particularly if exposed to damp or other accidents. Another objection to painting on ashlar walls is, that in warm weather the surfaces become very wet, from the condensation of moisture in the atmosphere against the cold wall, as may be seen on the frescos in the cathedral of Siena; yet in the library of the same cathedral—which was an addition built by Pius II., and supposed to be lined with brick—no damp ever condenses on the frescos,* which are perfectly even on the surface. This never is the case on rubble walls. These may therefore be referred to as instances of the durability of fresco painting upon brick, or brick-lined walls.

* Painted by Pinturicchio in 1502–3.

In St. Miniato, at Florence, the pictures by Spinello Aretino, though of a very early date, are in complete preservation: the wall is dry, perfectly even, and the dust, therefore, cannot settle on the frescos.

Those by Giotto in the Scrovegni palace, are also on brick, which always gives the advantage of an even surface; some of these pictures have become weaker in force and colour, these have constantly been exposed to the action of a strong daylight or of sunshine, others not so exposed have stood much better, and we must recollect that six hundred years have passed away since they were painted.

The walls of the Sistine chapel, are faced with brick externally, whether this has been the case internally is not known. It is believed that “The Last Judgment,” is painted over a brick lining, as its surface is much more even than that of the other paintings in the chapel. Those upon the vaults must certainly be upon brick linings, and are very well preserved.

The frescos in the Farnasina, which are known to be on brick, are in excellent order, and the fact that Carlo Maratti repainted the blue backgrounds, is by no means an evidence that such an act was required.*

* The presumption of this artist is plainly and painfully proved by the unnecessary retouching with which he has injured Raffaelle’s frescos in the stanze of the Vatican.

The frescos of the later Florentine masters, in the cloisters of several of the convents in Florence, are on brick walls, and except where they have been wantonly injured, are in excellent order.

Of a later date there are numerous frescos of the Carracci, and of their scholars. In the time of these eminent men the construction of masonry was carefully attended to, and in these instances the workmanship is excellent, the surfaces are smooth and even, and all their frescos are in good preservation, except where accidentally injured. And we strongly recommend all who may be concerned in fresco painting to observe those facts—that the frescos in the Palazzo Farnese, St. Andrea della Valle, St. Carlo di Catenari, Santa Maria Maggiore, the Ludovesian, and Rospigliose Casini at Rome, in numerous churches and palaces in Bologna and its vicinity,—likewise in Modena, Piacenza, Parma, and elsewhere,—may be instanced as proving the durability of fresco, are all on brick, and in every one of them the plastering is excellent.

Here then, and almost exclusively at this period, it was that fresco painting had fair play, as to its durability and some other of its qualities, and fully has it sustained its character for grandeur of style and permanency of materials.

Equally satisfactory in these respects are a great many works in Genoa nearly all painted on brick vaults; some are on lath or stoja, and nearly all are in perfect preservation. These paintings are by various masters, chiefly the works of Pierino del Vaga, by Cambiosi, Carlone, their pupils and successors.

RUBBLE WALLS.

Of all the unhappy contrivances in building with which fresco painting has been connected this appears to have been the very worst. We have already shown what a careless, ignorant, and clumsy sort of workmen the Italian masons are, and the unfortunate consequences of bad masonry are, to fresco painting, very extensive; for many of the most precious works of the great masters are painted on walls of this description, and to that their dilapidated state, and in some instances their ruin is attributed. It is to this rough mode of construction that great unevenness of many frescos is to be referred. It cannot be supposed that the wall behind these frescos is ashlar, nor are they likely to be brick, as the latter when plastered always has an even surface, nor do the bulgings in many cases proceed from the intonaco. In the chapel of St. Cecilia, in Bologna, the frescos by Francia and Costa are so much bulged that the wall can be seen in several places. It is evidently of the coarsest rubble construction, and the surfaces of the pictures are, therefore, very uneven. The walls of Santa Maria Novella at Florence are of the same bad masonry.

The frescos by Avanzi in St. Giorgio, and by Titian and other artists in the Capitolo di St. Antonio at Padua—by Massanio in the Carmine, by Ghirlandaio, at Santa Maria Novella, and by Andrea del Sarto in the Annunziata at Florence, by Pordenone in St. Rocco at Venice, and in Santa Maria at Piacenza, have all very uneven surfaces, and, consequently, have suffered much from the accumulation of dust upon the inequalities, and from the cracking and breaking off of the plaster, owing to bad masonry, and the careless way in which the mortar has been applied. Similar inequalities and bulging of the surfaces, are also common in the works of Raffaelle and his pupils.

It may easily be supposed that frescos will not again be painted upon walls so utterly defective as the rubble walls just mentioned. The examination of ancient and modern frescos evidently proves that brick surfaces are best for this species of painting, and the practice of the careful Germans and modern Italians, favour this opinion. The next to a brick surface for durability and fitness is plaster laid on properly prepared lathing. There are many specimens of this sort of work in Italy; but they are mostly met with on soffits or ceilings. That by Orgagni, the “Trionfo del Morte,” in the Campo Santo at Pisa, is in fine preservation. Orgagni was an intelligent architect; he knew the causes from whence danger was to be apprehended, both from the inferior condition of the masonry, and the infiltration of water from the roof, as likewise from damp arising from the soil, by capillary attraction. The latter is a very common cause of injury to buildings in all countries. His picture is executed upon a lathing of reeds or stoja nailed to the wall, and affords another strong proof that the idea so long entertained, that “the sea air injures frescos,” is not well founded; for the works called “Giottos” have nearly all perished, like most others in this edifice. And had this destruction been caused by the sea air, the Orgagnis would, no doubt, have had the same fate as their companions.

In the upper Loggia of the Vatican the ceilings, painted (in fresco) by Giovanni da Udine, are upon stoja or lath: the wooden frame to which the lath is attached, is executed with a degree of rudeness that would seem almost incredible. These works have suffered severely from the original defective carpentry, from neglect, and damp from the roof.

In the Palazzo Vecchio, at Florence, there is a chapel painted in fresco by Brontzino, and the paintings on the ceiling are on a lath foundation, and in high preservation, as are all the ceiling frescos in the public gallery of the Uffizj, executed similarly upon lath or stoja.

At Venice, in the Palazzo Ducale, there are some very important frescos by Tintoretto, likewise upon a lathed ceiling, which are well preserved; and those at the Villa Mazer (near Biadine), the frescos by Paulo Veronese, are on what may be termed a lath basis, though peculiar in its construction. The coved ceilings on which these frescos are painted, are constructed with more than ordinary care. The ribs, which form the arches, are made of inch deal, nailed together as centrings are usually made, so as to form a succession of ribs, each two inches in thickness, and thirteen and a half inches deep, and placed three feet apart. On the under surface of these ribs, laths of poplar, three inches broad by one inch thick, are nailed the broad way, but not quite close together—thus an excellent key is given to the plaster. The lathing is plastered above, as well as below, a common practice in the framed ceilings in France, of which those of Versailles are amongst the best examples. This practice is an excellent precaution for preserving the works beneath from accumulations of dust and dirt, as it is not difficult to keep such places free from dusty accumulations. For the same reason, it is advisable to plaster the upper surfaces of brick vaults, as practised by the Carracci in the Palazzo del Giardino,* at Parma.

* But this precaution does not produce a permanent exemption from the insidious approaches of dampness, from which they have suffered; and precautions have been adopted to make the roof water-tight, similar to those at Villa Mazer.

It appears, therefore, from the great number of authorities that have been consulted, as well as from personal investigation into the facts, that ashlar is the most ancient, but, in a moist or cold climate, not the best surface for fresco painting. Rubble walls—that is, walls solidly built of coarse materials, the stones not squared or ashlared, but taken, large or small, brickbats, tiles, &c., indiscriminately from the heaps; if too large, they are reduced by the hammer, and bedded in plenty of coarse mortar; no sort of skill being considered necessary, except to keep the wall perpendicular. Consequently, from its heterogeneous composition, it never has an even surface, and must inevitably bulge more or less in a few years. Brick walls, or walls carefully lined with brick or tiling, have proved to be the best, not only for preserving, but also for exhibiting frescos to advantage. Next to this, for similar reasons, is the stoja, reed, or lathed under surface, properly fixed upon almost any sort of wall.

The mortar of which frescos of former periods have been painted, cannot be sufficiently subjected to investigation, even where portions have fallen off, as they crumble slowly in general, and, mingling with the dust of the place, the decomposed mortar is swept away; but this is not of any consequence, as the ancient and modern authorities are well agreed as to the proportions we have already given; but on no account must gypsum, or plaster of Paris, be mixed with it.

On this subject Vicat,* by a series of accurate experiments, ascertained that the resistance of mortars, made from very rich limes, slaked by the common process, increases from 50 to 240 parts of sand to 100 of lime in stiff paste, and beyond that proportion decreases indefinitely. Therefore, two parts and a half of sand to one of rich lime, is beyond the due proportion which is necessary for strong mortar. More sand would only weaken it still further.

* Vicat, Resumé sur les Mortiers et Céments Calcaires. Paris. Page 51, &c. This author’s reputation deservedly stands very high amongst men of science.

pp. 54–66

CHAPTER IV.

SECTION I.
METHODS OF PREPARING THE LIME FOR FRESCOS.

AFTER having shown our readers how important it is that both the materials and masonry of walls intended to carry fresco paintings down to distant ages should be of the soundest and best description, and having also described the various surfaces that have been employed to receive the intonaco, tunic, or thin coating for the picture, our next object, in point of order, will be to describe the different methods adopted to slake and prepare the lime, both for the intonaco and the white pigment.

GENOESE METHOD OF PREPARING LIME.

The stone lime, well burned, is put into troughs six feet long by two feet wide at top, narrower at bottom, and about fifteen inches deep. It is then sprinkled with water, and slaked in the usual way; then plenty of water being thrown in, the mixture is worked with a lime-rake, somewhat like the implement used by our masons. With this it is thoroughly mixed, until the substance attains to the consistence of cream. At one end of the trough there is a little sluice, the opening of which comes only to within an inch and half of the bottom. On being drawn up, the sluice allows the liquid to run off; but small stones, or impurities, having sunk, cannot be carried away in the current, being stopped by the ledge below the opening. This white liquid is received into a pit, dug as carefully as it may be done in the firm earth, to the depth of several feet, but not lined, of an oblong shape. The process of mixing in the trough is carried on until the pit is filled with this creamy substance.

The lime thus prepared is left, covered up from the air, during from eight to twelve months, according to its ascertained strength. The lime for the first rough coat need not be kept more than two months. It should be mentioned here that the Italian plasterers do not use any hair in their works, but their proportion of sand to lime is the same as with us for the rough coatings, that is, two of sand and one of lime. The lime of which the intonaco, or surface coating of fine plaster, is composed, is, however, to be subjected to a much more careful preparation than that used for the first coat.

We have shown that the slaked lime was carefully deposited in a deep pit, and secured from the action of the atmosphere, where it remains during the regular number of years or months. It is then carefully lifted out with a broad shovel, care being taken not to come too near the edges of the pit in any direction, lest any clay or earth should be taken up with the lime.* It is now thrown again into the troughs, and thoroughly mixed with water, till it is not thicker than rich milk. It is now allowed to escape again through the opened sluice. This time, however, it passes through a fine hair sieve into jars of earthenware. Many of these vessels are required. Each is filled about two-thirds; the lime-wash then settles, and the water that rises over the surface, is poured off each time until it ceases to rise. The lime then remains ready for use, about the consistence of cream cheese, and as smooth as butter. It is then mixed with twice its quantity of sand for the intonaco.

* We cannot but regard the practice of allowing the slaked lime to run into earth pits unlined by tiles, or thin planking, to be a slovenly and wasteful one. A great deal of fine stucco is thus lost, and, should a careless workman allow a small portion of clay to mix with it, the fresco will be ruined.

In Italy much pains are taken to procure a suitable sand. It must be a perfectly clear, sharp sand, the grains very nearly of an equal size—its colour light, to keep up that of the intonaco. The presence of any earthy particles in the mixture would ruin the fresco; great care is therefore necessary in preparing all the materials for works in this art.

THE GERMAN METHOD.

At Munich lime is prepared for the same purpose in another manner. There a pit is dug in the common earth (as before). This is filled with clear burnt lime-stones,* which, on being slaked, are stirred and worked until the substance is a complete amalgamation, of a consistence similar to that already described. The surface having settled to a level, clear river sand is spread over it to the depth of a foot or more, so as to exclude the air, and then the whole is covered with earth. The German painters allow the lime to remain thus for at least three years* before it is used, either for the purpose of painting—for it is the white pigment used—or for coating the walls. A great quantity of this substance is generally kept fit for use at Munich, some of which might be had for work in this country; and we understand that the late Lord Monson intended to have a quantity of prepared lime brought from Munich for the works which Cornelius was to have done for him in this country (at Gatton Park).

* Professor Hess directs that this lime should be kept in pits lined with brick. This is a great improvement, which, no doubt, will be adopted in Britain.

* Cornelius, it is stated on the best authority, prepared the lime for the Ludwig Kirche eight years before he commenced painting there.

In Florence, where this art was once carried to such a state of excellence, and where it is still practised, the artists are of opinion that the lime should be kept in the moist state from eight to twelve months, otherwise it will burn both colours and brushes.

THE FRENCH METHOD.

Very different from all the above modes of slaking lime for fresco is the method laid down by M. Vicat,† a very intelligent practical engineer, who strongly objects to the mixing with water, and thinning the lime down so much as some have recommended: in fact he attributes the cracks and scalings that take place on the newly-plastered surfaces to an excess of water having been employed in diluting them. M. Vicat’s method is the following:—The lime to be employed must be stone-lime of the finest quality; this should be placed in a large basin, or trough, not porous; upon this the water is to be sprinkled by slow degrees, and with so much care as that it may readily circulate in the spaces between the stones: this will allow the pieces to absorb the exact quantity requisite to resolve them into one strong compact mass, of a pasty consistence, but by no means sufficient to allow it to run into a fluid state; neither must it be worked up and beat about by the hoe and lime-rake, as we sometimes see so improperly done with respect to the common lime mixtures. In about twenty-four hours after the heat of the operation shall have subsided, this paste will have acquired so firm a consistency that it cannot be detached from the trough or basin, without the aid of a pick; it is then rendered soft and plastic by a vigorous beating up, but without water: this is done by means of heavy iron mallets, with wooden handles, which are struck perpendicularly upon it; when rendered sufficiently plastic, to one hundred parts of this very tenacious and substantial lime-paste sand is to be added, in the proportions of one hundred and fifty to one hundred and eighty parts: these materials are to be well kneaded together by means of a heavy pestle; but if in defiance of the most vigorous efforts – and this amalgamating always requires great exertion—it is found impossible to unite these materials sufficiently, then a little water may be added, but very gradually, and with care; for it will hardly be believed, by those who have not witnessed it, that a single pint too much water added, will spoil a square foot of this mortar.

† Vicat, Resumé sur les Mortiers et Céments Calcaires, &c. Paris.

SECTION II.
THE COLOURS, BRUSHES, &C., REQUIRED FOR FRESCO PAINTING.

The more solid and substantial preparations for fresco having been sufficiently detailed, we now come to the more cheerful and interesting portion of the materials; and shall commence by cautioning practitioners, especially beginners, to pay the greatest attention to the preparation of tints on the palette. This is a matter of so much importance, that the neglect of it may cause the ruin of the whole work; for if through carelessness, haste, or ignorance of the fact, the tints are mixed as the work proceeds – and this all know is a common and not injurious practice in oil painting – if, we say, this mode should be followed in fresco painting, the inevitable consequence will be, that when dry the painting will assuredly appear quite streaky,* though this defect is not perceptible when it is moist.

* The author can speak from personal experience on this subject; having had, along with a North American artist, a mischance of this kind in 1831, when taking a few lessons from the late J. L. M. Merimée, then secretary to the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Paris. The two copies (heads) we painted looked, when dry, as my American friend said, “for all the world like the tulip-streaked countenances of rum-drinking Carolina slave-breeders!” Our readers may calculate how interesting they must have appeared. Our next attempt, however, was successful.

The white pigment is lime, for preparing which we have given full instructions.

The yellows are – The ochres, terra di Siena, Naples yellow. The ochres calcined produce the reds, not very brilliant for draperies, but mixed with white they produce very true flesh-tints. The reds include all the burnt ochres; burnt terra di Siena, the brightest parts selected in calcination produce a brilliant red. All the oxides of iron, from orange to violet.

The browns are – The umbers, raw and burnt, and burnt terra verte.

The black – Burnt Cologne earth, which, when freed by calcination from its vegetable combinations, affords a very pure black; – soft black chalk, charcoal black, lamp black, are the most intense and the most permanent of this class.

Purple-Burnt vitriol (Cassius purple), cobalt blue, and lake-coloured burnt vitriol. Green – Verona green, or terra verte, cobalt green, and chrome green. Blue – Ultramarine, cobalt, and the imitation ultramarine; the latter is most safely used for flat tints, but does not always mix well with other colours.

These colours have been well tested, and for the most part admit of being mixed in any reasonable way.

The following more brilliant colours, have also been tried in the various operations of fresco, but as yet they have not in every instance been found solid enough to stand the action of lime:

Chrome yellow, chrome orange, red lead, or minium.

Vermilion. – This colour, it appears, and lime, are hostile to each other, particularly when the open air acts upon them when in contact. Pozzo says he has often used it for draperies in pictures painted on the interior walls of edifices, where it has stood well. His method is as follows: – Take pure vermilion in powder, and having placed it in an earthenware vase, pour on it the water that boils up when lime is slaked in it: the water, which should be as pure as it can be, is then poured off, and the operation must be often repeated. In this manner the vermilion is penetrated with the quality of the lime, and always retains it.

Contrary to this, we have the testimonies of Cennini, and Armenini, who distinctly say that vermilion will not stand in fresco. Pozzo was, however, a practical fresco painter of considerable skill; the two intelligent authors just mentioned were not so, they were clever theorists, therefore the question is still an open one – well deserving further investigation – and by practical experiments only can it be determined. It should further be observed that M. Mérimée, an excellent practical chemist and painter, says expressly, “Cinnabar may be used by steeping it for some days in lime-water; it however loses some of its brilliancy, but still it is richer than the ochre reds, or the oxides of iron.” The same intelligent writer also states that the oxides of iron are of various degrees of oxidation, and produce a variety of red tints, from orange to violet. The latter, made of the tritoxide of iron,* is rather a dull tint, but it can be made brighter by mixing the Cassius purple with alumine, and calcining them like cobalt blue.

* Called also “purple oxide of iron,” is merely oxidized iron, which, at its highest point of oxidation, takes the violet tint. It is a dark but permanent colour, and, except the purple of Cassius, is the only purple that will stand in fresco.

SECTION III.

Blue is the only brilliant colour in fresco; the ancients were not acquainted with either the cobalt, or ultramarine of the modern frescos—they were limited to a blue preparation from copper.

This blue, which is very brilliant, is frequently found on the walls of the temples in Egypt, and also on the cases enclosing mummies. The same colour is found in the ruins of some ancient edifices in Italy, and even portions of it have been discovered in the state in which it was prepared by the manufacturers, for the artists of those remote ages. Count Chaptal, as M. Mérimée informs us,* analyzed some of it, discovered in 1809 with several other colours in a shop at Pompeii; he found that it was blue ashes, not prepared in the moist manner like that which the paper-stainers use, but by calcination: he considered it a species of frit, the semi-vitreous nature of which renders it proof against the action of the acids and alkalies, at a moderate temperature.

* Vide the translation of his work on oil-painting and fresco. London. 1839.

Some years later Sir Humphry Davy employed part of his time in Italy by making researches to ascertain the proportions of the colours used by the ancient Greek and Roman artists, and he obtained results similar to the foregoing. Still further, by synthetic methods, he obtained a colour similar to that of the ancients, by exposing to a strong heat, for two hours, a mixture of fifteen parts carbonate of soda, twenty parts of powdered flints, and three parts of copper. He is of opinion that this is the blue described by Theophrastus, who has ascribed the discovery of it to a king of Egypt, and also that it was manufactured at Alexandria.

Vitruvius, who calls this blue cerulæum, informs us  that the art of making it was brought by Vestorius from Egypt to Pozzuoli, and that it was made by calcining in a potter’s furnace balls made of sand, filings of copper, and flos nitri (carbonate of soda). It is believed that the Venetians who were so skilful in enamelling, knew how to prepare the Egyptian blue.

It is probable that Paulo Veronese has employed this sort of blue in many of his paintings, in which the skies have become green. This colour, which has remained without alteration as employed in distemper painting, would not for a very long time become affected by the action of oil. Had this artist, however, used our modern “blue ashes,”* he would soon have discovered their want of solidity, and would not long have subjected his works to such injurious changes. In distemper and decorative painting, the former stands well. It is very desirable that we should be able to recover the method of making it.

* This is a precipitate of copper, combined with water (a hydrated carbonate), and is either natural or artificial. It is only employed in decorative painting, and turns green after some time, when used in distemper. The same change will be produced in it after a week or two, if it be ground up in oil.

As regards the vehicle with which the colours are to be used, pure water, that has been boiled and is still warm, is indispensable but not exclusive; for it is requisite to add a sizy substance in the mixing and applying of those colours, which like blue are so arid that they would separate quickly from the plain water.† With only this liquid, it would not be possible to lay a good ground, or lay on a colour in a good smooth body. Cennini, in pointing out the colours tempered with simple water without the aid of gelatine, expressly mentions the San Giovanni white as one of them. Of the charcoal black he says, that it requires the addition of size in fresco, as well as in distemper painting. The argillaceous earths, such as terra verte, the red and yellow ochres, which retain water for a long time, need not be combined with any viscous substance, but azure, ultramarine, and some of the blacks, which like sand, do not combine with or retain water, may require it, and therefore cannot be worked readily without a portion of gelatine. This addition will also render the execution of the work more easy, without at all diminishing its solidity, for it is quite certain that the vehicles used become, when dry, insoluble.

† Some think that this addition of size does not take place until the retouching on the dry finished fresco. However that may be, – and we cannot see how arid colours can be united to water without a gelatine, – still, in either case, care must be taken to avoid mixing the blues with tempera – white and yolk of egg intimately blended together—for this liquid has a strong yellow colour, and would change the blues to green very soon.

The size which Cennini recommends for this purpose, is a mixture of the yolks and whites of eggs well beaten up together; it is only the albumen that can be employed, or the serum of the blood, which is a similar substance, or even the blood itself may be used for the brown colours. Any of these substances form, with the lime, an insoluble size.

Some painters mix a little milk with those colours which they require to retain in a soft state; the caseum of the milk forms, with the lime, another insoluble size; but it would be better to prepare the size from cheese prepared in the proper manner.

SECTION IV.
CASEUM.

Method of preparing Caseum. – Take some fresh cheese prepared from rich creamy milk, triturate and work it with warm water until all the soluble part is carried off by the washing. This operation ought to be carried on in a sieve, or strong, coarse linen-cloth, through which the cheese is finally pressed to deprive it completely of the water; when this is done, the residuum will crumble like stale bread; it is then dried upon unsized paper, and in that state will keep fresh for a very long time.

This material, which is caseum mixed with a small proportion of butter, is not soluble in water except by the addition of quicklime; but by triturating this mixture, it becomes transformed into a very viscous sort of cream, which can be diluted with water to the consistency required for the work: it dries quickly, and when quite dry it cannot again be dissolved; therefore no more should be prepared than can be used immediately. This is probably the cause why the use of it has been abandoned; but at all times a solid advantage is worth the trouble and difficulty of its preparation and employment; besides, these objections could be greatly diminished by keeping in a well-closed vessel some powdered quicklime, to mix with the caseum at the moment of trituration: a slight use of the muller will be sufficient for that purpose. It would be still better to soften the caseum in warm water; and, for expedition’s sake, the two substances should be kept in a close vessel, after having been previously mixed dry in the right proportion, and reduced to a fine powder. This will give great facility to the trituration, and this species of size, when well understood and properly managed, must supersede all the others commonly employed in retouching frescos, as it will give much facility in the operation of painting.

The tools used in laying on the colours, are made of hog’s hair like those used in oil painting, only of a larger size generally, and the hair longer in proportion than that of oil-brushes. For the finer parts, hair fixed in quills are used, they are made of otter or marten’s hair; this substance has the power of resisting the action of the lime, which will burn or curl up sables, or other fine hair pencils.

The palette must be either of tin, covered with a light-coloured varnish to protect it from rust, and with a rim round it to prevent the colours which are thinned with water from running off, or else a very finely-made wicker palette covered with primed cloth, as being lighter; others use a large marble slab placed conveniently within their reach.

The colours ground, and to be mixed with water are kept in a convenient place ready for use. The water invariably used in diluting the colours must be either rain-water (boiled) that has not passed through an iron tube, or distilled water, which has also been boiled, and used rather warm in cold weather.

pp. 67–81

CHAPTER V.

SECTION I.
LIME SUITABLE FOR FRESCO PAINTING.

HAVING shown how carefully the walls should be built and prepared for fresco painting, we now proceed to another subject quite as important, any neglect in preparing which would be fatal to the artist’s best exertions. This object is the proper selection of limestone of such a quality as will furnish the proper material for a white pigment, and be in other respects well adapted for the ground, or surface, which is to receive the painting. Not having long tested experience in our own country, our best plan is to consult the practice of the early Italian and modern fresco-painters of various countries.

A limestone consisting of as few foreign ingredients as possible, is generally esteemed the fittest; yet classes of limestones, which have long been used for preparing lime used in painting, have often been found to contain various ingredients besides carbonate of lime.*

* Carrara marble, which is pure carbonate of lime, is liable, when heated, from its granular crystalline structure, to fall into a coarse powder, and thus the inconveniences attending the burning and slaking render it unfit for use on a large scale.

The particular limestone recommended by Vasari is Travertine, the lime it yielded was no doubt used by the great artists who painted in Rome in the beginning of the sixteenth century, and was in all probability employed for similar purposes by the ancients. The Colosseum, St. Peter’s, and various other ancient and modern edifices in Rome, are built with blocks of this stone; its colour is a yellowish white, but after long exposure to the air it acquires a reddish tint, probably from the small quantity of iron it contains. It is found in abundance throughout the Campagna, and even within the walls of Rome: it forms in a horizontal layer the face of the Aventine hill, to the height of above 100 feet above the Tiber. Some of the ancient quarries are near Tivoli, and the stone is the same in quality, with the sole difference of superior hardness acquired by age, to that still formed annually by the calcareous deposits of the waters of the Anio. The same tartar, as it is called, lines the ancient and modern aqueducts. The abundance of this deposit is easily accounted for by the origin of these streams from the chain of the Apennines, which in central Italy consist almost exclusively of a comparatively soft limestone. The stone called Travertine is thus a formation by means of fresh water; it is full of hollows, frequently cylindrical in form, occasioned by the calcareous sediment being originally deposited on vegetable substances.

SECTION II.

From this account of the origin of the stone, it might be inferred that it would be almost a pure carbonate of lime. Its analysis is in fact,

Carbonate of lime . . .	99.4
Alumina, with a trace of iron . . .	0.6
	100.0

The lime it furnishes is of the purest whiteness. It appears from Armenini that the Genoese lime ranked, in the sixteenth century, among those remarkable for their whiteness. The stuccatori of Genoa, are among the most skilful in Italy, and the practice of fresco painting is still very common in that city. It has been already observed that frescos have lasted there extremely well on the external walls of houses, notwithstanding the action of the sea air. A specimen of the stone forming the lime used in Genoa for fresco painting has been procured; it contains a considerable portion of magnesia; its analysis being,

Carbonate of lime . . .	63
Carbonate of magnesia . . .	36
Earthy matter, oxide of iron, and bituminous matter . . .	1
	100

The lime used at Munich is also remarkable for its whiteness: it is made from pebbles, washed by the torrents of the Isar, from the marble mountains of the Tyrol. The analysis of the stone is,

Carbonate of lime . . .	80
Carbonate of magnesia . . .	20
	100

A specimen of the lime now used by the Florentine fresco-painters, has also been procured. On being analyzed, it proved to be so near to pure carbonate of lime, that no appreciable quality of any admixture is to be detected.

The analyses of the limes employed for some frescos that have stood well in this country, may here be added.

The frescos executed about eighteen years ago by Mr. Thomas Barker of Bath, have been already alluded to. The Wick (Bath) stone furnished the lime: the analysis of the stone is,

Carbonate of lime . . .	97
Impurity chiefly oxide of iron . . .	3
	100

Mr. David Scott, an artist of Edinburgh, painted a fresco in that city about eight years since, the limestone was obtained from the Vogrie quarry near Edinburgh: its analysis is,

Carbonate of lime . . .	94.5
Silica alumina, oxide of iron, and bituminous matter . . .	5.5
	100.0

It has not been possible to procure the stone which furnished the lime for some frescos executed by Mr. John Zephaniah Bell at Muir House, near Edinburgh, about ten years since, which have stood perfectly well. But a small portion of the lime which had dried in a jar has been analyzed, and was found to consist of hydrate, or slaked lime, carbonate of lime, and minute traces of alumine and oxide of iron. It appeared to be well fitted for the purposes of fresco painting.*

* The analyses given in this statement have been carefully made by Mr. Richard Phillips (Museum of Economic Geology), under the sanction of her Majesty’s Commissioners of Woods and Works. The chemical facts and theories adduced rest also on the authority of the same able investigator. (Appendix to 1st Report, p. 40.)

If these examples show that the presence of various ingredients of a certain kind, or to a certain extent, is not prejudicial, the extreme purity of the Travertine – not to mention the Florentine limestone – is on the other hand sufficient authority for selecting a stone furnishing a very pure, or as it is technically called, “a very rich lime.” The following are analyses of stones from the neighbourhood of Bristol, similar specimens are to be found elsewhere.

Limestone procured by Mr. Phillips, from a quarry, called the “White quarry,” on Durdham Downs, near Bristol:

Carbonate of lime	99.5
Bituminous matter	0.3
Earthy matter	0.2
	100.0

Limestone marked “Bristol Durdham Down white lime:”

Carbonate of lime	99.6
Bituminous matter	0.2
Earthy matter and oxide of iron	0.2
	100.0

Limestone, marked “Bristol Durdham Downs,”* producing very white lime for plasterers:

Carbonate of lime . . .	99.7
Bituminous matter . . .	0.1
Oxide of iron and earthy matter . . .	0.2
	100.0

* Specimen furnished by Mr. T. L. Donaldson.

Thus the Durdham Downs limestone is equal, or even superior, to the Travertine in purity: the original colour is less promising, owing to the presence of bituminous matter, but this disappears in the burning.

SECTION III.
CAUSTICITY OF LIME.

The question as to the means of rendering lime less caustic, taking it in the general sense, seems to be quite determinable by chemical investigation. It is true the results are at variance with the opinions of some experienced living artists; but the Italian writers on art by no means insist on the necessity of keeping slaked lime for a very long period; and in the practice of the modern Italian, and indeed some German fresco-painters it is not considered essential to keep it longer than a few months. That all lime is for a certain period unfit for the purposes of painting, is however sufficiently evident. The well-known effect noticed by Cennini—and this should be borne in mind – is, that it blisters if used too fresh. In some instances it is said to have turned the colours to a brownish red. All, however, are agreed, that the caustic quality requires to be mitigated, and the only questions seem to be – What means are the best and shortest for effecting this object? And to what extent is it desirable? In order to obtain a clear view of this subject, it may here be necessary to state a few elementary facts.

It is common to talk of limes as being more or less caustic – as if mere lime could vary in its essential quality. This essential principle is inherent in all limestones, and is only greater or less in quantity; the purest limestone, in atomic proportions consists of

Carbonic acid . . .	44
Lime . . .	56
Carbonate of lime . . .	100

Thus constituted, whether in its original state, or reproduced by chemical agency, it is not at all certain. If the limestone be subjected to sufficient heat, it loses the carbonic acid, and there are left –

Lime . . .

56

If to this lime there be added as much water as will combine with it, the result is a compound of

Lime . . .	56
Water . . .	18
Hydrate of lime . . .	74

It is to be noticed that this proportion of water, in combining with the lime, does not, apparently, moisten it. Hydrate of lime is a dry powder; the addition of more water either mixes with the lime mechanically or dissolves it.

Let these seventy-four parts of hydrate be exposed to the air, the water is expelled by carbonic acid, and the result is as at first.

Carbonic acid . . .	44
Lime . . .	56
	100

This is, chemically speaking, the original limestone, although the original state of cohesion is never regained.

The non-caustic state of lime is therefore arrived at, when by exposure to the air, or by other means, it has regained its maximum of carbonic acid; but if buried, and kept air-tight, the lime cannot in any degree acquire that which renders it non-caustic. “Time,” observes Mr. Phillips, “has no effect on fine lime, whether slaked, or unslaked, provided it be not exposed to atmospheric air, or some other source of carbonic acid.”

One of these sources, though not an abundant one, is spring or river water, which contains carbonic acid and carbonate of lime; and the frequent washing recommended by all the authorities on fresco painting, is a means of restoring the lime to the state of carbonate—pure, or caustic lime, being constantly carried off in solution with the water wasted, and carbonate of lime being formed. The mixture of carbonate of lime with water is a mere mechanical combination; non-caustic lime may, therefore, be kept in a moist state. It might also be kept in a dry state without further change; but whether moist or dry, it would be wholly useless for the composition of plaster, and would not possess any adhesive quality. In the last state of mildness, it would resemble moistened chalk, and would crumble to dust. But as long as the lime remains caustic, or so long as it has not recovered its quantum of carbonic acid, it will, on exposure to the air in a moist state, rapidly attract it, and the surface soon becomes incrusted, and in a manner petrified. This is precisely what takes place during and after the process of fresco painting, moisture being always the medium, the conductor, so to speak, of carbonic acid. It thus appears that a considerable degree of causticity is indispensable in lime to give it adhesive firmness, and to render it fit for the purposes of the fresco painter. This degree of causticity, experience only can teach; but the means of diminishing the caustic quality is always possible. In addition to the recombination of carbonic acid with pure lime, which, as we have seen, can be promoted in various ways, a mechanical mixture with non-caustic substances, pulverized white marble, or even chalk or whiting, might possibly answer the purpose. Armenini observes, that some fresco painters mixed lime and marble-dust in equal proportions; and Palomino, on the authority of Luca Giordano, states that the practice was universal throughout Italy in his time.

In fact, a mixture of this nature, with various substances, actually exists in several limestones. Thus the stones that furnish the limes of Munich and Genoa contain magnesia in considerable proportions. Perhaps, also, the lime known at Milan and elsewhere by the name of “calcina dolce” may be of this description; the presence of magnesia, if not otherwise objectionable, – and experience seems to decide that it is not, – cannot obviously lessen the whiteness of the lime. Other natural ingredients, although they might have equally the effect of rendering the substance less caustic, might be less desirable as ingredients in lime for fresco painting: thus, iron would affect the colour; silica and alumina would probably cause the lime to set too fast.

But although the quantity of the lime may be thus reduced, we must not forget that, in itself, it is still perfectly caustic, until combined with carbonic acid. And in modern practice it appears that the same precautions are taken, whether necessary or not, with the magnesian as with the other limes. It is also to be observed that there is a considerable difference in the rate at which different limes recover their carbonic acid. The white (pure) limes take it up the most rapidly, and the argillaceous and magnesian limes the most slowly. On the whole, therefore, a pure limestone appears to be preferable.

SECTION IV.

With regard to the question of burning lime, or keeping it by some means air-tight, it is evident from the previous statements that, instead of rendering it mild, this treatment would preserve it in a caustic state for almost any length of time. There would be no danger of its becoming dry, even if buried in the mere earth; but for the purpose of preserving it clean, the pits had better be lined. Thus preserved in the state of putty, as it is technically termed, no chemical change could take place; but a mechanical alteration in the arrangement of the particles would probably be the result, which might be advantageous, by improving the consistence of the paste.

It is hardly to be expected that the ancient authors who have undertaken to explain these results should be always accurate in their views; but their testimony with regard to the results is important. Vitruvius observes, “Stucco (albaria opera) will be well executed, if lime of the best quality be slaked long before it is wanted; in order that if any portion was imperfectly burned in the kiln, the action of moisture in long maceration might slake it, and reduce it to the same consistence as the rest. For if lime be used too fresh, instead of being thoroughly macerated, it will, when spread (on walls), throw out blisters, owing to the crude particles that lurk in it. These particles, not having been duly slaked, swell and destroy the smoothness of the plaster. This explanation does not satisfy the modern chemist; but it will be observed that the evil pointed out is assumed to result from imperfect slaking, not from the too caustic state of well-slaked lime. Pliny observes that the longer mortar is kept the better it is; and he notices an ancient law relating to building, which prohibited the use of mortar that had not been kept for three years; adding, that the stucco executed during the operation of that law was free from cracks.” Palladius likewise recommends that lime intended for stucco should be slaked long before it is used, and describes it, after having been so kept, as soft and adhesive (viscosum). Leon Battista Alberti, after repeating the above passage from Vitruvius, asserts that he had seen some ancient lime, which there was reason to suppose had lain neglected in a trench for more than 500 years, and which far surpassed honey or marrow in consistence. These passages show that long maceration or souring, as it is now technically termed, was supposed to improve the consistence of lime, besides reducing its causticity.

SECTION V.

The opinions of early writers on art have already been given. Modern authorities, on the general nature of cements, have also considered this question. Professor Higgins, a writer of the last century, although very much opposed to the practice of keeping long, lime to be used for building, admits that the process may be necessary for the due preparation of stucco. After repeating the reason for so keeping it, as usually given by plasterers, namely, the tendency of fresh lime to blister, he adds, “It appears to me that there is another reason which the workmen do not notice; for their purpose lime soon absorbs so much acidulous gas (carbonic acid) from the air, as to be increased in bulk and in weight beyond the half of its former quantity; and as stucco for inside work, for the sake of a fine grain and even surface, must have a greater quantity of lime in its composition than is necessary for cementing the grains of sand together, the incrustation would, by the access of acidulous gas, after it is laid on, be apt to swell and chip, and lose the even surface, if the lime were fresh when used in this excessive quantity; but this inconvenience is obviated by these processes, during which the lime imbibes a considerable quantity of the gas, and is therefore less apt to blister and swell after the stucco is laid on.”*

* There is not any difference between lime which has been slaked only a month and lime which has been slaked ten years; for the carbonic acid of the atmospheric air only combines with the mere surface of the lime; it cannot penetrate further; therefore, the great body of the lime beneath this crust preserves its strength for a great number of years, and it is then fit for use. – Mérimée on Fresco : translated by W. B. S. Taylor.

Recent authorities merely state the fact that rich limes can be kept in the moist state for any length of time. The results, whatever they may be, are not by them considered important. It has been shown that these results are commonly supposed to be – first to render the lime mild, and next to improve its consistence. Assuming, then, that the effect of keeping pure lime in pits would be to promote the more complete comminution of the particles, it appears that the result might be as completely attained by the method before described, commonly practised by the Genoese workman, – namely, thinning the paste in water, and pouring off the finer particles as soon as the coarser have subsided. The process is objected to by modern writers on cements for building purposes, because it reduces the strength of the lime,—in other words, renders it less caustic. But this is precisely the further result, supposed to be attained by keeping the lime in pits. The method is, then, doubly recommended to the fresco painter.

After the above investigations, the following paper was communicated by Dr. Reid. The experiments proposed to reduce the causticity of the lime are founded on the general principles already pointed out.

SECTION VI.

“Lime can be rendered mild by numerous operations with much more certainty and rapidity than by exposure to the air, or to the slow action of air and moisture after being buried in the earth.

“Were the precise chemical condition of the lime known with minute accuracy, in so far as it is most advantageously employed for fresco painting, a definite answer might at once be given to the question proposed; but this, so far as I am aware, has not been tested with those advantages which modern science presents; and should this opinion be correct, in which I would rather inquire for information than offer it, I should then consider it desirable to adopt the following course:

“First, that a series of experimental trials should be made with lime prepared in various ways by chemical processes, such as would afford at all times, and without delay, a material whose uniform texture might always be depended on.

“Mixtures of fresh lime in minute quantity with much carbonate – of precipitated lime and precipitated carbonate – of lime carbonated by exposure to steam and water with carbonic acid, and various other mixtures, these will occur readily to the practical chemist. Here it is to be observed that, if the lime requires to be fully carbonated, the carbonate can be prepared in the most minute state of division, and in the highest purity, by rapid precipitation from solutions of lime, the cost of which would not be so great as to prevent their use for this purpose, as they might be formed partly by materials of which hundreds of tons are dissipated weekly in factories, because there is no demand for them. The carbonate might also be obtained from any limestone that might be preferred in a much more minute state of division than it is commonly reduced to, should chemical purity not be a special object, by adopting some of the processes followed in manufactories for reducing solids to an extreme degree of comminution. But if, though much carbonated, it is essential that it should not be entirely carbonated, then the experiments proposed will solve the question as to the best proportion. This is, perhaps, the most important point to determine.

“The mixtures of various other ingredients should be tried along with the lime, so as to ascertain if any peculiar combinations of earths should prove more favourable for fresco painting.

“Experiments should also be made with the view of ascertaining the extent to which the retardation of the setting of the lime may be secured both by admixture and by the production of artificial atmospheres, so as to give more freedom to the artist in the execution of his designs.”

pp. 82–110

CHAPTER VI.

SECTION I.

HAVING laid before our readers the various modes of masonry proper or improper for fresco, the mortars, limes, stucco, intonaco, colours, cements, and other materials which are requisite to be in readiness ere an artist can commence his mural painting. We shall now proceed in the same consecutive order with those instructions which relate immediately to the operation of the painting. Commencing with the cartoon, which ought to be completely ready by the time the work is in a suitable condition to receive it; and it cannot be too well fixed in the minds of those who may be emulous to immortalize their genius and add something to the glory of their country, that they should be very deliberate in making their pictorial composition, and equally slow in designing the figures, lest any vulgar or conventional forms, any misplaced, extravagant, borrowed, or too tame attitudes should get on the canvass. Every well-experienced practitioner knows that these are matters which require a mind endowed with rational enthusiasm, capable of serious and continuous reflection, deep thinking, and patient investigation, combined with indomitable energy in the execution of his plans. With such qualifications, joined to a practical skill and perseverance, the artist whose professional objects are of an elevated character, can scarcely fail of success—and so far as that may extend, will contribute to the intellectual glories of his country. But to gain a position so exalted, one worthy the honest ambition of the noblest minds, “Great Nature” must be the artist’s guide, in her boundless temple of truth must he constantly worship with unflinching ardour. But his devotion to study will be well requited according to its sincerity and devotedness. The possession of invaluable knowledge acquired by this high training, combined with the natural vigour of his mind, will confer upon him that noble quality which the illustrious Wellington declared was indispensable to those who would be great in arts, as in arms, “the power of overcoming great difficulties.”

The soundness of these precepts are acknowledged by many, but as yet are practised but by few, in proportion to the number of practising artists—that is, if we admit all to this honourable distinction who assume that title. However this may be, it is admitted that these principles cannot be too often reiterated, especially to the rising generation, for whose instruction and advantage, in a great measure, this work has been brought forward at no trifling labour and expense.

SECTION II.
THE CARTOON.

This substantive is spelled cartone by the Italians, and meant originally a large strong paper or pasteboard, on which the artists made their first sketches, designs, or compositions. The two specimens of the original cartoons by Agustino Carracci,* and that of the “Murder of the Innocents,” by Raffaelle,† which are at the head of the staircase in the National Gallery, will give the best possible explanation of the manner in which the most accomplished fresco painters prepared their original compositions to be transferred to the wall.

* Presented to the nation by Lord Francis Egerton. Of these, the “Aurora” has not the pricked outline: the “Galatea” has it.

† Of this work, the outline is full of pinholes.

The largest pasteboard being of a size too limited for the grand scale on which the finished subjects are prepared, are only used as they were originally, for small drawings, which are the preparatory studies for the great composition which is made out from them.

The following mode of preparing the surfaces for these large compositions has been found suitable, and has been adopted generally by the artists who were competitors in the recent competition at Westminster Hall:

A very strong frame being prepared,—it may be a stretching-frame or not,—a strong cloth is to be stretched upon it exactly as if it were to be prepared for painting; upon this cloth, cartridge paper is carefully glued: some glue on a second layer of paper; but if the first layer have a good substance, there is no occasion for incurring the trouble and expense of a second papering. But in laying down the paper, care should be taken to rub down the edges where they overlap, that the surface may be as even as possible. Over the surface is then passed a wash of size and alum, on this, a wash of some neutral colour may be passed if required; and on this, when dry, the subject is sketched with charcoal, Italian or white chalk, the full size of the intended painting. This is to be done from smaller drawings of the whole composition, every part of which must be well defined in studies carefully prepared from nature for this purpose. When it is found inconvenient to prepare a cartoon the full size of the picture, when this is very large, it is optional with the artist to make his drawing half the size, or to divide the whole composition – but of the full size – into two or more cartoons. The fresco is therefore an exact transcript of the cartoon, the forms being traced on the wall as we shall presently describe.

When the drawing on the cartoon is finished, if in charcoal, it is requisite to fix it by wetting the back of the cloth with cold water, and then steaming the drawing in front, to soften the gluten sufficiently to cause the adhesion of the charcoal to the surface, and thus render the drawing permanent. This mode of fixing is however liable to failures, if not managed by persons very expert in processes of this nature; but when well operated, and the drawing preserved clean, and free from streakiness, it is very effective for the purpose intended.

Some mark their outline and put in their shadows with Indian ink, seppia, or bistre, these tints do not of course require steaming; others put in their lights and shadows with black or brown tints, and white mixed with size; that is also a very safe method, and one by which the full effects of the chiaro-oscuro can be given without much difficulty.

The artist having prepared his drawing carefully, the full size of the intended fresco, he then places over it transparent oil-paper, on which he makes an outline trace from it, this is the working sketch, and completes all the preliminary circumstances for commencing to work on the wall. We shall therefore leave these matters in perfect readiness, and return to the final preparation of the wall, and the laying on of the intonaco.

The wall and rough mortar surface having, as previously directed, been allowed to dry perfectly hard, and to become well seasoned, is then wetted repeatedly with water that has been boiled, or with rain-water, until the absorption quite ceases. Immediately as this takes place, a thin coat of plaster is spread over that portion only which is to be painted; the surface of this coat must be moderately rough, as soon as this begins to set – say in about ten minutes, it will be more or less according to the atmospheric temperature – then a second thin coat is laid on somewhat fatter, that is with more lime and less sand, or about equal quantities; and both these layers together should be little more than a quarter of an inch in thickness. These coats are laid on, and the surfaces smoothed with a wooden trowel, – the last coat, it should be observed, is the intonaco or tunic, whereon the work is to be painted, and this some painters like to have made quite smooth, others like it a little rough – and to do this, one of the modes is to fasten some beaver nap to the trowel: another mode is to pass over the surface in all directions lightly with a dry brush or a roll of soft wet linen to remove the extreme smoothness, also the traces of the trowel, and to stir the sand. The surface is next to be passed lightly over with a handkerchief to remove the loose particles of sand on the surface, which in ceiling painting might injure the eyes.

To return to the traced outline – a portion of which, sufficient for one day’s painting, is cut off and nailed to the wet wall; then the forms are again traced with a sharp point, which makes an outline indented in the soft plaster, and this is a sufficient guide for the operation of painting.

Another mode of making a correct outline on the plaster, is that of placing the paper which is to be applied to the wall, behind, and in close contact with the finished cartoon; the outlines of the latter are then pricked, and the operation leaves a similarly pricked outline on the paper behind; a proper portion of this pricked paper is then to be fastened to the wall, similar to the oil-paper tracing as above directed; a pounce-bag, in which there is some red, black, or brown dust, is then pounced against this paper, which is then removed, and a corresponding outline is found upon the wall.

For works of small dimensions this method is sometimes adopted, as it does not in the least degree disturb the surface of the plaster. The plan of tracing on transparent paper and transferring this to the wall is generally employed, because it gives the best and firmest outline, and leaves the finished cartoon unblemished by pinholes. A considerable number of the finest Italian frescos show very evidently, when examined closely, the indented outline produced by the tracing.

No alterations, except such as are trifling, can be made on the fresco, this process being justly styled “a final operation;” therefore should any changes suggest themselves to the artist’s mind, after he has finished his cartoon drawing, he must make them on the cartoon by displacing, or cutting from the surface, such parts as he may have rejected, and fitting the new parts in their places; and from the last arrangement of the subject the tracing or pouncing outlines must be made.*

* Great care must be taken in tracing the first portion of the composition to fix the paper precisely in the right place, because the subsequent lines all depend on the first. To ensure this point, the whole drawing should be fitted to the space before it is cut up for the purpose of tracing. The edge of the portion first applied should also be pounced, as a direction where to cut off the superfluous intonaco. The latter is not, however, to be cut away close to the line so marked, but about an inch from it, to avoid cracks, and to secure the completion of the portion traced to the very edge.

Another circumstance of some importance, because it will save time and much useless labour to the artist is, that previous to commencing to paint on the wall, he should have prepared a coloured sketch of the whole design, as neither colours nor form can be changed satisfactorily after the fresco has been finished. It appears that the German artists rarely make studies of this kind; this is an oversight on their parts—at least we have not heard any good reason assigned for their neglecting to acquire so useful a habit.

SECTION III.
THE PROCESS OF PAINTING.

We have come at length to the most interesting process of all those connected with this class of painting, and shall lay before our readers the various methods employed in this operation, commencing with the history of the outline, which is a process of great interest in the works of Italian masters. From this it appears, that whilst the modes of outlining already described were adopted in this art, each artist used them according to his own particular fancy or convenience, uninfluenced as it would seem by any acknowledged rule; and the peculiar mode of each artist being once understood, affords good evidence of the authorship of a work. The practice, however, of making an indented outline with the stylus is very ancient; as this appears to be the mode used by the Etruscans in the paintings on their tombs, but the external outline only was marked with the point. The early Italian masters used it precisely the same way in outlining their distemper works on panel. Of these specimens remaining, Giotto’s are the earliest, and his pupils adopted the same method. It was also the practice of the Sienese school, which however is distinguished from the other schools by one peculiarity; this was the constant habit of marking in “the Madonna,” not merely with an external line, but also the outlines of all the folds in the drapery, with the stylus: and this circumstance distinguishes a true Sienese Madonna from all those of contemporary schools. At a later period it came into use in every part of the picture,* in tempera and even in oil painting.

* Signor Pacetti, of Florence, who carefully studied this subject, says that the ground on which old paintings, whether in oil or distemper, were executed, was formed of a fine whiting, called gesso da oro. This is said to be a production of Tuscany, and is considerably finer than any whiting used in other parts of Italy or in this country. It was mixed with a white size, made from parchment shavings, and could be drawn upon by the point with the utmost facility.

It is however a curious circumstance, more connected with the early history and practice of the art, than affecting modern practice, that while the stylus was used in distemper pictures on panel, it rarely is seen in those of the same period painted on walls. It is never found in the mural paintings by Cimabue, Giotto, Orgagni, or Benozzo Gozzoli, but it has been found in the architectural backgrounds only of Fra Beato Angelico’s works in the Vatican.

In the frescos by Massaccio, in the Carmine, the lines of the architecture are put in with a point, but not the figures. There is another specimen by Andrea del Sarto, in the Academy at Florence,—it is not a large fresco,—in which the architecture is put in with the point, and the figures are painted with the brush, independent of any peculiar outline.

Luca Signorelli was amongst the first, as it appears, who used the cartoon and point in the manner now adopted in the German school. Signorelli carefully marked in every necessary outline, as did many others; but the evidence which the use of the stylus gives in mural painting is decisive of the fact, that such paintings were always laid in in fresco, although it not unfrequently happened that they were finished in distemper, and sometimes frescos were painted without the outline having been indented; but the smooth even indentation of the point shows that it was produced when the plaster was soft, which it must be for fresco painting only: then on the other hand, if attempts were made to indent lines on a dry surface with the point, it would produce a scratchy and broken appearance. Another curious fact is, that the ardent spirit of Michael Angelo did not patronize the stylus, he adopted the much slower process of the pouncing-bag.*

* The dotted line left by the pouncing is then to be gone over with black chalk, which will leave a dark line and slightly indent the surface, so that, should the chalk line be obliterated, the indentation will still serve as a guide.

There are not any marks of the point in the “Last Judgment.” A remarkable picture attributed to him (in distemper), in the tribune at Florence, is drawn in with the point: and it is the only painting attributed to him in which the marks of the stylus have been discovered.

The spolvero* was also patronized by Pietro Perugino, and likewise by his great scholar Raffaelle; but the pupils of the latter artist adopted different modes, each according to his own fancy; and this is evident in the frescos of the Stanze,† in painting which different hands were employed. As for instance, the point is not used in the Dispute of the Sacrament, nor in the School of Athens, except in the drapery of Hippias, where it appears in an alteration of drapery folds. In the Parnassus, there is no mark of the stylus visible, save in the robes of Homer and Tasso. It is not at all used in the Heliodorus. In Attila, or mass of Bolseno, in the Peter Delivered, the stylus is seen to have marked the outline of the moon. The Incendio del Borgo has first been pounced, and then outlined, with a sharp stylus on the soft plaster, with tolerable care. The Oath of Leo III. is similarly outlined, but very carelessly. These two frescos form, in this respect, a striking contrast to the others.

* The pouncing-bag.

† In the Royal Academy of Arts (London), there is a set of the Stanze pictures. They are copied small in oil, are very well executed, and must have been painted at least a century ago.

Giulio Romano did not use the point in his “Battle between Constantine’s army and that of Maxentius.”

Raffaelle’s judgment with regard to making his outline, was most correct. He did not use the stylus in those beautiful works in the Farnasina, as he knew that it would have injured them very much; and, indeed, it should not be seen in works that the eye can approach near to, particularly if they are lighted from one side, as the channelled line cut by the stylus will then be partly in shadow, and will make a hard outline wherever it has been used. The Venetian masters were by no means careful. Titian is remarkable for the little care he appears to have taken in the preparation of the outlines for his fresco pictures. This class of painting evidently was not a great favourite with him, although his style and talents are sometimes well displayed on the intonaco.

Pordenone, who, with great talents, must be ranked as a slovenly operator at times, used the stylus; and, in some places where he had changed his mind as he was painting, he appears to have taken the first thing that came to his hand to cut or scratch a new line—a sharp bit of wood or the end of his dagger; and with such clumsy implements he often broke away lumps of the plaster, thus causing irregularities in the surface, which he did not seem to regard, and did not repair.

Now, on the other hand, Innocenza da Immola exhibits in his works a remarkable contrast to the practice of the artists just mentioned; for his constant habit was to put in with the point every hair, wrinkle, and even the small folds of the drapery, before he commenced painting.

SECTION IV.
THE PROCESS OF PAINTING.

Every preliminary process essential to the successful operations of fresco painting, and the permanency of such valuable works,* having now been placed before our readers, we will suppose that the artist has got his wall, his cartoon, and his tracing ready; his colours and implements prepared; and that he has a portion of his subject traced with the sharp point, or pounced, as may best suit his purpose, upon the section of intonaco which has been prepared for his day’s work; and that the surface of the latter is in the proper state to commence upon, that is, firm enough to receive barely the impression of the finger, but not so moist as to endanger its being stirred up by the brush, as this would prove a great inconvenience, and fill the brushes with sand; and there is little or no danger of the plaster drying too rapidly, if the wall has been well wetted previously; but if, in the course of a summer’s day, the surface should begin to harden too much, and refuse to receive the colour kindly, the operator may take a mouthful of water occasionally, and sprinkle it over the surface, as sculptors do, to keep their clay model sufficiently moist. And we beg to impress it upon the artist’s mind, that very much depends on the thorough wetting of the dry mortar on the wall previously to the applying to it the first coat of plaster and the intonaco.

* Should any of those primary objects be neglected, or carelessly performed, complete success in his painting need not be expected by the artist, and it may become altogether a failure.

The dotted outline having been gone over with black chalk as already directed, the surface of the intonaco is again to be lightly wiped with a handkerchief to remove the charcoal that might remain, it is then to be sprinkled with water from a plasterer’s large brush.

This implement, and a vessel of clear water, are to be kept at hand, as the same operation may have to be frequently repeated, especially in summer. Another brush, and a separate vessel of water, should be kept for washing out any work which may require to be effaced. The water in this second vessel gradually becomes tinged with lime, and cannot be used for sprinkling the work, as it would occasion white spots. In frosty weather it is necessary to keep these vessels on the fire, and in preparing the wall, it would be proper for the assistant to use warm water. “But,” Palomino* continues, “if, owing to extreme cold, the surface of the intonaco should freeze, this will produce a worse effect upon it than rapid drying; for no absorption can take place, and the colours afterwards crumble off like ashes, as I have myself experienced. If, therefore, the use of warm water should be insufficient to overcome such effects, it will be most advisable to wait for a milder season.”

* Palomino was a Spaniard, and an eminent painter in fresco. His principal works are at Granada, Salamanca, and Valencia. He died 1726.

The temperature, however, being favourable, the artist commences by painting in the background, and distances of the portion allotted for the day’s work. His next operations are to lay in the shadows of his flesh tints carefully, and then working in the half-tints and lighter parts with this colour, this first wash is quickly absorbed, and the colours appear very faint. They, however, are not lost, as they form a foundation for the next painting, in which the colours must be laid on in a fuller body (impastare), and this may be done to a greater extent in fresco than in oil painting. But wherever there is a large space to be painted flat in a single colour, especially flesh tint, it should be done with large brushes, to prevent the overlapping of the edges of colour, as that occasions a streaky, and, of course, an unpleasant appearance,* which it is difficult, sometimes impossible, to overcome, but may be avoided by using brushes of a superior size, which, by covering a large space each time it is drawn over the surface, and by dexterously avoiding the edge of the preceding sweep of the brush, an even flat tint in flesh, or any other colour, may be obtained with certainty.

* This appearance is not uncommon in the German frescos, from the cause mentioned. We think the use of large brushes would prevent this defect.

After the painter has laid in his general colour, he should wait half an hour, or an hour, according to the setting of the colour (which again is contingent in a great degree upon the state of the weather), before he proceeds to more delicate modelling. In these primary operations, he should avoid warm or powerful tints, for these can be added with better effect as the work advances. The second painting requires a full body of colour, and this impasto has, by some of the old masters, been carried to an extraordinary degree of fatness. In fact, the artist may lay on his mixture of lime and colour with the brush as thickly as he pleases; and this practice is quite observable in the works of Pordenone at St. Maria Campagna (Piacenza), where the light parts have evidently been laid on with as great a body of colour and lime as possible, and much greater than could be attempted with oil colours. Paulo Veronese, also, in his frescos at the Villa Mazer has charged his lights surprisingly; but his *imitators* have quite surpassed him in this false imitation of nature. These men have loaded their works so much, that the lights stand up in lumps upon the wall! Such extravagances are, of course, to be carefully avoided. The lights, we all know, must be laid on with a much more full pencil than the shadows; but the same thing happens in oil painting, because, in each case, there is considerably more white pigment in the high lights than in the shaded parts. But these appliances should not be carried to an excess, which violates the best rules of art, by disregarding the plain, unaffected manner in which Nature carries on all her operations.

That an extraordinary dexterity of manipulation with the brush has been attained is but too evident in the paintings of many masters, and in none, perhaps, more flagrantly than in the works of Pordenone, already noticed, and Polidoro di Caravaggio in St. Andrea, on Monte Cavallo, and in the Farnasina; but it is a dexterity not deserving of any commendation when carried to such extravagance, setting both good art and nature at defiance, and is attainable by very inferior practitioners.

The really “great masters” laid in their colours without any sort of ostentatious handling, as Professor Wilson justly remarks, and “their works do not exhibit any of the tricks of manipulation.”

After the second painting has been completed, another pause of ten or fifteen minutes takes place, and then the artist proceeds to finish his picture by a process of glazing peculiar to fresco. Transparency may be obtained in the first and second painting by laying on the colours flat and quiet, and with brushes of a sufficient size to carry the washes rapidly over the surface. By this mode of operating all streakiness is avoided, and there is no occasion to go over them to get rid of the streaky appearance; for, should the quiet flat surface be disturbed to remove the streaks, these may be subdued, – but then, transparency is lost, and opacity succeeds. The latter is one of the defects of the present German school; whilst, on the other hand, the old examples prove that this union of tints was obtained without losing the transparency.

Titian, it appears evident, leaves the bare intonaco not unfrequently to assist in giving transparency. In one of his frescos at Padua, he has laid in his shadows in brown with much transparency; but for half-tint he has left the bare lime. This practice cannot be recommended: it is never found in the frescos of the Florentines or Romans; and that great fresco painter, Luini, obtained equal lightness and transparency without those contrivances. Such practices give to works a sketchy character, which is particularly objectionable in the principal figures, and scarcely to be tolerated in the inferior parts. To obtain the power mechanically of producing transparency must, however, in a great measure result from practice.

A Milanese professor says, on this subject, that it is necessary to lay the first tints early in the morning, then to leave the work, and not resume it for two hours. He further states that the lime, if it have any remains of an injurious caustic quality, will exhaust its fury on the first colours, and may be more safely painted on afterwards.

To these directions Professor Wilson adds, “It must be observed that the frescos by Appiani, which the Milanese professors point out as successful examples of this practice, are very far from exhibiting the quality of transparency; but as other artists hold the same opinions, it is proper that it should be stated.”

Whether this mode be effective or not, can, however, be easily determined by practical experiments.

SECTION V.
GLAZING.

This is a rather important process in fresco painting, which it appears was, by the old masters, well understood, and is clearly exemplified in their works. The celebrated picture at Siena, in the gallery of the Academy, and known as the “Cristo alla Colonna,” is a particularly interesting example of its just application in fresco; that is, in fact, of its being applied whilst the intonaco was still moist. In this instance, parts are made out by its agency, and both lightness and transparency are attained. Razzi’s works are those which most decidedly exemplify what may fairly be called “legitimate glazing” in fresco, and to a greater extent than those of any other master.

The superiority of some frescos, in point of colouring, is no doubt owing to the process by which these colours are applied. On this subject Cennini says, “There are some painters who, when they have prepared a head,* take a little of the San Giovanni white, diluted with pure water, and give with it a few touches to mark the relief of the most prominent points of the lights. They next apply a rosy hue to the cheeks and lips with care; then, after a little delay, they pass over the whole a very liquid wash of acquarelle (distemper) flesh colour; the head is then considered complete as to the colouring process, requiring nothing more than some touches of white upon the high lights. This,” he observes, “is a good method.” He says further—“Others, at first, apply a general tint of flesh colour to the face, and (after a little delay) put in their shadows with a mixture of that colour and of green brown (verdaccio), they then finish with a few touches of flesh colour. This method is that of persons not well acquainted with the resources of their art.”

* That is, after they have laid in their first and second courses, so as to have completed all their solid painting.

It is very evident that this is a description of the glazing process which produced tints very different from those obtained by the solid, or paste mode, and much more brilliant: and it plainly shows that after the local colours of the complexion were touched upon the *impasto*, or second painting, the vehicle with which the wash, or glaze of flesh colour was passed over the whole, was a fine and much diluted size; and Mérimée asserts that the cracks seen in the frescos of Raffaelle, Domenichino, and others, are actual glazings, which not having been applied in a sufficiently full body, have sunk into the colours beneath them.

The application of this glazing, requires some caution to keep it from rubbing up, or attacking the colours over which it is passed: and for this purpose Cennini advises the use of brushes with a fine grain, the points of which should be very soft; and also that the glazing should not be attempted until the colours to be glazed upon should have become sufficiently firm by the absorption of the greater portion of the water with which they were laid on; for, should this process be attempted directly after the solid painting is completed, it would disturb the under colours, and perhaps spoil the work.

Very different from this is the method invented, or adopted by Pordenone, which in its effects resembles that used in oil painting. It appears as if his works had been glazed after the lime had been allowed to dry; the flesh in all his figures is richly glazed,* so that the transparent colour fills up the hollows occasioned by the peculiar loading already described as so remarkable in his frescos, – so called, for there is something ambiguous about them, the only other master who seems to have adopted a somewhat similar process, one so foreign to fresco painting, is Polidoro da Caravaggio. The adopting of such a practice must no doubt have arisen from the artists not having a clear conception of the true application of fresco painting. The Venetian painters generally were no better off in this respect. Titian himself fell into the mistake of attempting to produce the same effects of light, shadow, and colour, which he had been accustomed to produce in his oil pictures.

* This glazing very much resembles the liquid combination of wax and resins used in encaustic paintings, and probably is such a vehicle.

The light and brilliant colouring of P. Veronese enabled him to paint with a stronger resemblance to the true character of this style than most of the Venetians; not that he seems to have known or cared about that matter, – for this success is merely the result of his system, and not any intention on his part to apply the principles of colour suited to the peculiar art of fresco painting, which he often practised, and with triumphant success at the Villa Mazer. But of all the masters of the Venetian school, old Palma was the only one who appears to have had a just conception of the powers and purposes of fresco painting, as his mural pictures sufficiently prove; of these, two remarkable specimens by him of saints, are to be seen at Castel Franco, they are painted with great breadth of style and dignity of character.

SECTION VI.

Having entered thus largely into the executive methods, and merits of some celebrated fresco painters, we shall now return to our fresco, which we left when the glazing was passed over it. By means of this agent, the requisite degree of completion can be attained, provided the daylight and the absorbing power of the plaster last. But if the touches of the pencil remain wet on the surface, and are no longer sucked in instantaneously, the artist must cease to work, for henceforth the colour no longer unites with the plaster, but when dry* will exhibit chalky spots; – as this moment approaches, the absorbing power increases, the wet brush is sucked dry by mere contact with the wall, and the operation of painting becomes gradually more difficult. To go on after these symptoms would be injurious to the work, – to cease further exertions, therefore, is advisable.

* It is stated by Condivi (Vita di Michelagnolo) that some blues are best added when the work has become dry, and he instances the circumstance of the successor of Leo X. (Adrian VI., a Dutchman) having compelled M. Angelo to remove the scaffolding from the Cappella Sistina before he had time to put in the blue colours, which, of course, were afterwards applied to the dry surface. This solitary instance is not satisfactory. That ultramarine will be permanent, if used in fresco secco, is quite true; but surely it would not be less so if applied here to the moist intonaco, as it has been in other places.

But should the wall begin to exhibit drying symptoms too soon, for example in the second painting, some time may be gained by moistening the surface with a large brush, and trying to remove the crust, or setting that has already begun to take place, but this is only a temporary remedy, which cannot be repeated with effect. The change of the colours from the wet to the dry state, is very considerable in some tints, but can be tolerably well ascertained by touching them first on a light-coloured brick or tile that absorbs moisture.

After having completed the portion allotted to the day, any plaster that may extend beyond the finished part is to be removed, and in cutting it away, care must be taken never to make a division in the middle of a mass of flesh, or of an unbroken light, but always where drapery or some other object, or its own outline forms a boundary. Should this be neglected, it will be almost impossible the next day, in following up the operations, to match the tints so that the junction shall not be visible; but by making these joinings correspond with the outlines in the various parts of the composition, the patchwork which is unavoidable may be quite concealed; and in the next day’s operations, when the old under coat of mortar is being wetted as before, to receive the stucco and intonaco, great care must be taken to wet the cut edges of the former day’s plaster; this must be done delicately with a smaller brush, in order to be sure that even the smallest corner shall not be neglected, and also to avoid sprinkling or soiling the finished portion; therefore it is better to begin at the upper part of the wall, and carry the work downward, for then there cannot be any danger of wet descending upon it from any work above.

When the artist is compelled to leave his work during the day for some time, without being able to finish a portion at once, there is a contrivance used by the Munich artists which stops the drying of the work for some time: they have a board of sufficient surface to cover that part of their work, and this is padded on one side, this cushion being then covered with waxed cloth; a wet piece of fine linen is then spread over the fresh plaster and painting, and then pressed to the surface of the wall by the cushioned side of the board, while the outer side is buttressed firmly by a pole from the ground.

It sometimes happens that a part of the work gets damaged or perhaps quite spoiled; whenever a defect of this kind occurs, the spoiled portion must be carefully cut out, and the process of wetting the wall, &c., above described is to be renewed, with a fresh *intonaco* to recommence; and upon revising the finished work, if some part should not come up to the artist’s intention, he has the same remedy, but no other,—the objectionable part must be cut out, and a renewal of the first process, on which he must begin afresh; he should also take very great care to see that the portion cut out shall be bounded by definite lines, for it is obviously a matter of great importance, in fresco painting, to make a nice adjustment of the various portions of the work, so as that it shall present an entire unity of appearance when completely finished.

SECTION VII.

Previously to entering upon the subject of retouching with distemper when the fresco is dry, we shall lay before our readers the description of another process of fresco painting of a recent date, from the pen of Professor Wilson, to whose zeal and intelligence the British public are justly indebted, and the author of this manual particularly so, for much very valuable information in every process connected with fresco painting.

The professor says, “I lately went to the Royal Palace (Genoa) to see the Signor Pasciano paint a ceiling in fresco; his tints had all been prepared before my arrival, he had only two in pots; viz., pure lime, and a very pale flesh tint, he had no palette, but a table, the top of which was a large slate: on this slate he set out with the palette-knife, terra verte, smalt, vermilion, yellow ochre, Roman ochre, a dark brown ochre, Venetian red, umber, burnt umber, black. These colours were all pure, mixed only with water, and rather stiff – there might be from one to two ounces in each. He mixed each tint as he wanted it, adding to each some from the pot of flesh tint, or of white, as it suited his purpose. Near him lay a lump of umber, and on taking up a brushful of colour, he touched the colour to it; this earth instantly absorbed the water, and he was thus enabled to judge of the appearance which the tint would present when dry: the painter used a resting-stick with cotton on the top, to prevent injury to the intonaco. The intonaco being prepared in the manner which I have described, the moment it could bear touching he went to work. The head was that of the Virgin, he began with the pale tint of yellow round the head for the glory. (The colour of the ground it is to be observed, was a cool middle tint, owing to the admixture of sand with the lime.) He then laid in the head and neck with a pale flesh colour, and the masses of drapery round the head and shoulders with a middle tint, and with brown and black in the shadows. He next, with terra verte and white, threw in the cool tints of the face, then with a pale tint of umber and white, modelled in the features, – covered with the same tint where the hair was to be seen, and with it also indicated the folds of the white veil. All this time he used the colours as thin as we do our water-colours, he touched the intonaco with great tenderness, and allowed ten minutes to elapse ere he would touch the same spot a second time. He now brought his coloured study which stood on an easel near him, and began to model the features and to throw in the shades with greater accuracy. He then put the colour in the cheeks, and put in the mouth slightly, then shaded the hair and drapery, deepening always with the *same* colours, which became darker and darker every time they were applied, as would be the case on paper for instance. Having worked in this way for half an hour, he made a halt for ten minutes, during which time he occupied himself with mixing darker tints, and then began finishing, loading the lights and using the colours much stiffer, and putting down his touches with precision and firmness: he softened with a brush and a little water. Another rest of ten minutes, but by this time he had nearly finished the head and shoulders of his figure, which being uniformly wet, looked exactly like a picture in oil, and the colours seemed blended with equal facility. Referring again to his oil study, he put in some few light touches in the hair, again heightened generally in the lights, touched also into the darks, threw a little white into the yellow round the head, and this portion of his composition was finished, all in about an hour and a half. This was rapid work, but you will observe that the artist rested four times, to allow the wet to be sufficiently absorbed into the wall, that he might then repass over his work.

“The artist now required an addition to the intonaco, the tracing was again lifted up to the ceiling, and the space to be covered being marked by the painter, the process was repeated, and the body and arms of the Madonna were finished before I left him at one o’clock.”

Nothing we believe can convey a clearer idea of the process of fresco painting than the foregoing letter, so far as the first process. We shall now subjoin to it extracts from another letter from the same gentleman. “Yesterday I went again to see Pasciano, and I found that he had cut away from his tracing, or cartoon, those parts which he had finished upon the ceiling; in fact I now found it cut into several portions, but always carefully divided by the outline of figure, clouds, or other objects. These pieces were in some instances a good deal detached from each other, and were nailed to the plaster, so as to fold inwards or outwards, for pouncing the outlines. The intonaco had just been laid for the upper half of an angel supporting the feet of the Madonna, this was one of a group much larger than those surrounding the glory, therefore requiring more colour and finish: more than half the figure too was in shadow, with a strong ray of light on the face, and on one of the arms; this was a good opportunity for observing the painter’s management of shadow. Having gone over the outline carefully with the steel point, he waited until the intonaco became a little harder, and in the mean time mixed a few tints, he then commenced with a large brush, and went over the whole of the flesh, he next worked with a tint that served for the general mass of shadow, for the hair, and a slight marking out of the features. He now put a little colour into the cheeks, mouth, nose, and hands, and all this time he touched as lightly as he possibly could, not to wash up the intonaco, he then halted for ten minutes, looking at his oil study, and watching the absorption of the moisture, and he called my attention to this outline, none of it was effaced by this washing.

“The intonaco would now bear the gentle pressure of his fingers; and with the same large brush, but with water only, he began to soften and unite the colours already laid on. Observe, he had not yet used any tint thicker than a wash of water-colour, and he continued to darken in the shadows, without increasing the force or depth of colour. This I before noted to you, that you can strengthen by the simple repetition of tint; but if the day be very dry, after an hour or two, this process of repeating with the same tint produces an opposite effect, and instead of drying darker, it actually dries lighter.* I now perceived that he had increased the number of his tints, and that they were of a much thicker consistence, and he now began to paint in the lights with a greater body of colour, softening them into the shades with a dry brush, or with one a little wet, as suited the purpose. In drying, the water comes to the surface, and actually falls off in drops; but this does no harm to the work, although it sometimes looks rather alarming.”

* The cause of this appearance is explained at page 101.

SECTION VIII.

In addition to the above luminous and interesting detail of the actual process of fresco painting, the author begs leave to add some observations derived from his own practical experience in this art. In the year 1831, he commenced the translation of M. J. L. F Mérimée’s work on “Oil Painting, Harmony of Colours, and Fresco.” In the autumn of the same year, being in Paris, he was introduced to that talented artist and estimable man, who never seemed tired of giving useful information to those whom he saw desired it sincerely, and these friendly acts were done with a courtesy of the most natural and pleasing description. This gentleman was at that time engaged in making experiments in fresco painting, which it was intended should be submitted to the Institute of France, which had then under investigation specimens of every kind of mural painting, the knowledge of which has reached our days. And the object of their inquiry was to ascertain which style, whether fresco, encaustic, or mosaic painting, would be most suitable, intellectually and permanently, to excite and develop the high moral powers and purposes of painting for the enrichment of churches, palaces, halls, and other public edifices.

The specimens of M. Mérimée were highly approved by the Institute, and his account of the methods and materials he employed was entered on the minutes.

This was a favourable moment for obtaining an insight into practical fresco-painting, and the author accordingly took advantage of it, in company with an American artist and two or three of M. Mérimée’s pupils. Our instructor, however, adopted a method somewhat different from that of Pasciano, as described by Mr. Wilson. M. Mérimée commenced by marking in the shadows of the features, or other carnation parts, and then the half-tints were added; he then passed a light but cool flesh-tint over the face, neck, or arms, according to the part he was engaged upon, and then he paused for a few minutes to allow his first lay of tints to be firmly united to the intonaco. In the second painting, his method was very similar to that above described; he laid on a full, but not extravagant body of colour in the lighter parts, and charged his pencil a little more with white pigment in touching on the high lights. It was in about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour after we had completed our second or solid painting, which was then quite safe from being disturbed, that we passed over the flesh parts the thin glaze of acquarelle and flesh colour, which restored the transparency that had existed after the first painting, but which was lost by the second lay or solid painting. Upon this glazing a few touches of light were given in prominent parts, and the effect was then like that of an oil-picture with a very fine transparent surface. When it was dry next day, the glossy appearance had almost entirely gone off, but the transparency remained.

It should however be mentioned, that these experiments were upon a small scale as to the dimensions of the frames* being from three to four feet in length and breadth, but the heads and limbs painted within these surfaces were the full size of nature; but being like easel pictures, they were more under control than mural operations could be, although the frames, which were of strong deal,† wire-latticed at the back, were very heavy when charged with the rough cast mortar, the first stucco coat, and the intonaco; the two last, however, together not being more than three-eighths of an inch in thickness. In the course of these operations great care was taken (after some mistakes in the beginning) to sweep the first colours on rapidly, and with large brushes, to prevent the streaks which are inevitable where the succeeding wash runs over the edge of that just laid. These streaks can, no doubt, be afterwards removed by working the softener over these parts; but this action disturbs the surface, and renders the parts dull and opake, besides causing a loss of time which a little more care at the outset would have prevented.

* Mr. J. B. Lane, who had studied in Italy for several years, brought to London, in 1832, two of these portable frescos, which he had painted in France. They were much admired. His method was a good one.

† Pictures of much larger dimensions may be painted on these latticed, or on lathed frames, and afterwards fixed in their situation in the wall. It is a common notion that the celebrated “Aurora of Guido” in the Rospigliosi palace, at Rome, was painted on a copper trellis, and fixed afterwards in its present situation. This is quite a mistake. It is painted on a brick lining, and nails are said to have been driven into it, probably to key the plaster.

Palomino states that the ancients, previous to commencing their painting, went over their intonaco generally with a light tint of white and terra rosa, for the purpose of rendering the surface more even. This we did not do in our operations; but we used the end of the finger afterwards, with good effect, in softening parts where even a fine brush would have failed. We however, when the work was completed, pressed some large sheets of paper on the surface to lay it smooth and even, and this is an object well worthy of the fresco painter’s attention.

pp. 111–124

CHAPTER VII.

SECTION I.
RETOUCHING FRESCOS.

THE description just given of the different modes of operating in fresco are confined to what may strictly be called “pure fresco painting,” a process to which the German artists adhere most rigorously, and for which inflexibility of principle they are entitled to great commendation, not only on moral, but also on pictorial grounds. Our readers are by this time aware that there are four distinct ancient modes or processes of mural or monumental painting – namely, fresco, encaustic, fresco secco, or tempera, and mosaics. Therefore, when it is said that a painting is executed in any one of those modes, we expect, of course, to find that it is so done bonâ fide. But with respect to fresco paintings, even of the best time of Italian art, such is not always the case; for, by some means or other, a fallacy was soon coupled with the early or pure fresco. This was the retouching system, by which the painters sought to repair and disguise the mistakes or carelessnesses of their execution, and which a lapse of years has only made more flagrant. Now it is quite clear to all practical artists, that if fresco cannot stand alone, without such patchwork, and highly deceptive contrivances, it would be better to abandon it altogether, as unworthy of public favour, from its incapacity to record honestly the great traits of sacred and profane history, poetry, &c. But fresco is not that feeble and incapable vehicle for conveying high moral instruction to the human mind: fresco has, within itself, all the powers requisite for producing these great objects of the pictorial art, as frequently has been proved, in former, and even in ancient days, as well as by the modern German school, which has rightly rejected all the spurious and meretricious aids, that the Italian painters, even some of the greatest among them, unhappily, we would say weakly, adopted, to finish, as they believed, but certainly to disfigure some of the noblest works in this style of art. The great geniuses we allude to found this intrusive practice in full operation, and it must be supposed that they considered it to be a legitimate adjunct to the simple operations of real fresco; consequently, having this staff, which turns out to be a broken one, to depend upon, they undertook larger portions of the work each day than they could honestly finish in pure fresco; carelessness was the consequence in numberless instances, and then detrempe, that is, raw eggs and vinegar, were blended together as a vehicle in which colours were mixed and applied to the dry surface of the intonaco to patch up the blunders or slovenly doings of either the master or his pupils. The latter class, it is clear, have done serious mischief to the fine compositions they were engaged upon when the master has been absent, or not sufficiently watchful of what was going forward amongst the youthful and thoughtless operators. The same sort of misfortunes may befal frescos in this country from similar causes; but should such discreditable and injurious practices be permitted here, we should be wholly unpardonable, because incorrigible. Hopeless indeed would be our condition in the executive operations of elevated art, if the broad and clear light of long experience were in vain, which has “unveiled truth” and distinctly pointed out, not only the grandeur and beauty of the mural paintings of the middle ages, but also the lamentable injuries which careless or ignorant operators have inflicted on them, and the ravages which neglectful guardians have permitted to visit these the noblest creations of intellectual art.

If, therefore, “to be forewarned” is “to be forearmed,” the public may, we think, reasonably hope and expect that the guardians of the public purse and of the public taste will lay down and act upon a plan of systematic vigilance, founded on good faith with regard both to the true interests of elevated art, and that of the British people, both intellectually and financially. To do this great duty effectually, “that spirit of evil,” that concentrated essence of injustice called “jobbing,” must be utterly repudiated; and persons of real genius must be sought for and employed, according to their peculiar talents or fitness for the various operations of fresco or encaustic painting.

It is only by the directors of these national works acting up to the spirit of impartial justice in these important affairs, that the high hopes so justly entertained by the nation on this subject shall not be disappointed, and the just pretensions of the British people to intellectual gratification and greatness in the fine arts, ruined for ever. This is a matter of very serious and important consideration; for should family connexions or private intrigue place the execution of these permanent works in the hands of impudent pretenders, even partially, instead of giving them to men of real genius—and of these gifted men there is no scarcity in the British isles – men whose correct feeling always keeps them from soiling the purity of their minds by stooping to the low artifices of the charlatan, such deplorable acts, so far as they might be carried, would display a lasting record of our matchless dulness and imbecility, at which the finger of ridicule and scorn would, especially by foreigners, be justly and incessantly pointed.

To those who are well acquainted with the practical movements of society as they now are, and have been carried on for a long time, it will not appear in the least degree surprising that we should dwell so emphatically upon the great necessity that exists for the greatest vigilance to be exercised by the Royal Commission, or whomsoever shall have the proper authority to select the artists who are to execute these great monumental works.

We have the highest confidence, and we apprehend that this feeling is very general, in the honour and judgment of the noblemen and gentlemen composing the Royal Commission on the Fine Arts; yet there is no doubt but that various artful contrivances will be put in requisition by inferior, and even incompetent men, to warp the judgment or excite the compassion of those who may have to decide upon the merits of the candidates.

Such is now the state of the question; and as we, in common with the vast majority of our fellow-subjects, feel a strong desire to increase and uphold the moral and intellectual grandeur and beauty of the arts, as conducive to the prosperity and glory of the nation, so do we sincerely hope and trust that those only shall receive the rewards of merit who may truly deserve those honourable distinctions.

SECTION II.

Having thus candidly, and it is hoped clearly and respectfully, stated what we know to be the sentiments of the best-informed persons with respect to the incalculable evils which the spirit of jobbing would, if not thoroughly repressed, inflict upon the British character, we shall now return to the subject of “retouching frescos,” a practice, as we shall show, fraught with numerous evils, and offering no real advantage, to this class of painting.

How this interpolation of distemper touching upon fresco originated, has long been a matter of conjecture. The best, and we believe the true solution of that question, has been given by Mr. Wilson, who considers it very probable, that the practice may have been the unavoidable consequence of painting on thin intonacos, spread on stone, which could not remain moist long enough to allow the completion of a portion of fresco to any (tolerable) extent. This method early adopted out of sheer necessity, to give some appearance of finish to those works, that is, tempera painting over the dry fresco, may have been afterwards retained, even where unnecessary, from habit. But in the best age of art, when proper fresco grounds were employed, tempera was looked upon merely as a sort of remedy only to be tolerated in cases of accident or unusual difficulty.” Here we have a rational way of accounting for the origin of a practice that became, at last, quite an abuse in art. And from the first and second Reports, we shall add some instances of the mischief it has done to many of the great frescos in Italy.

Of this practice Armenini gives his opinion very decidedly, from much observation of frescos. He says, “In frescos which are not exposed to the weather, it is possible to give the requisite completeness by going over the work when dry.” He further states, that the shadows may be finished and deepened “by hatching,” as in a drawing with black and lake in water-colours, using a brush of marten-hair not too small. In diluting the colours, some use gum, others thin size, or tempera (yolk and white of egg); this latter was not used with the blues, on account of its yellow hue. And he concludes by admitting, that “in the course of a few years such retouching will fade.”

Andrea Pozzi,* a very able fresco painter, says, that it is better not to retouch; and adds, that as the lime always undergoes some slight change, particularly in the shadows, it is sometimes unavoidable. He further observes, that such retouchings are useless in the open air, as the rain soon washes them away.

* Author of “The Jesuit’s Perspective,” “A Treatise on Fresco,” &c.

The Chevalier Agricola, in his report on Raffaelle’s frescos in the Vatican, distinctly states, that the effect of those paintings was originally much heightened by retouchings, some of which have faded, “or darkened.” In most cases it is easy to detect this retouching, as it generally is darker than the parts around it, and whilst in many frescos a remarkably fine luminous surface is observable, the retouched parts are invariably dim.*

The “Heliodorus,” “Miracle of Bolzena,” “Attila,” and “Deliverance of Peter,” seem to be pure frescos, with a few exceptions. In the first-named painting, unfortunately the chair-bearers have been greatly retouched in distemper, and these parts have become very dark.

* This is very conspicuous in the Evangelists, by Domenichino, in the church of St. Andrea della Valle at Rome.

It also appears, upon a close inspection, that the grandest picture perhaps ever painted, the “Last Judgment,” is much retouched in distemper,† evidently, it appears, by the master’s own hand, and this has darkened considerably. This accounts for the dingy tone of this noble painting, without paying any attention to the idle supposition, that the smoke of candles has been the cause, other specimens will be mentioned a few pages further on.

† Communicated by M. Orsel, a distinguished French artist.

These and other examples prove, that although as good art advanced, the extensive use of distemper was given up, and that the finest works were executed in fresco, yet the practice which had so long prevailed, was not wholly abandoned; and, until the time when good art was revived by the Caracci, it may fairly be doubted whether there is one mural picture in existence that is completed in pure fresco.

After the adoption of true fresco painting, its comparative difficulty of execution caused many artists to return to the older and much easier, or as it may be denominated “the lazy man’s” practice, Pinturicchio, Baldazzar Peruzzi, Melozzo da Forli, and others, employed it much, and it is seen that where they have used the egg vehicle with a full body of colour, it scales off, and the pictures darken and become of an inky tone.

A great many more facts might be brought forward to prove the vicious nature of this deceptive resource of indolence or incapacity, but we trust that our readers are by this time quite satisfied that such fallacious modes of proceeding cannot and will not be tolerated in this country; it is in fact a downright deception, may it not be denominated a “fraud” upon those who having contracted for pure fresco painting, get one, half of it distemper instead.

If adopted at all, therefore, and we should say let it *not be adopted*, “the limits,” as Mr. Eastlake very justly observes, “seem marked by the practice of Raffaelle in his later works, where it is indeed very moderately and subordinately used;” but he judiciously observes also, that “loose opinions upon this subject might lead to careless practice, and in this view of the case the severe injunctions of the German masters are of value.”

SECTION III.
HATCHING.

This is a practice which prevailed very much amongst the old masters in their fresco paintings even in their genuine pictures, as well as in their retouchings; from this it would seem as if they experienced a difficulty in getting flat tints to any extent, it was a sort of makeshift, most likely arising out of a defective state of the painting materials, or from undertaking too much intonaco at once, which would not admit of waiting until the surface had attained sufficient firmness to receive broad washes of colour, and thus transparency would be lost; but the hatching could be commenced immediately; for as this process consists in drawing inflected lines parallel to each other, and in the application of it there is no crossing of the lines—thus there would not be any danger of blotches from the lines running together on the wet surface. These lines require great freedom and steadiness of hand in their execution, being a colossal resemblance of the direct or single hatching of a bold line-engraving, which when clearly and evenly cut, display a vigorous and yet mellow style of execution; except, therefore, to keep up the appearance of transparency,* hatching is quite out of place in fresco painting, and is but a poor substitute for the quality which is intended to preserve—although its use, extensively too, has the sanction of the great Michael Angelo, whose “Last Judgment” displays much *tempera* hatching executed with great skill and regularity. But in the works of Raffaelle, “the most perfect of fresco painters,” as Mr. Wilson most truly remarks, there originally was no hatching; for, as Mr. Eastlake properly observes in a note, “the clumsy hatching visible in parts of ‘the Stanze’ is evidently to be attributed to Carlo Maratta.” Neither is this obtrusive practice to be found in the beautiful works of Correggio. “For the hatching with which Correggio’s cupids in the Convent of St. Paolo, at Parma, are overlaid and ruined is evidently the work of another hand. The lunettes underneath have fortunately escaped this profanation.”

* In the ancient examples, it is observed that a quiet flat tone has been obtained without losing the transparency. It is true, some of these works are very slightly executed, the colours seeming to be laid on in a single wash, as seen in the works of a Venetian painter in a church near Cornegliano, in the old Venetian territory. As works of art, they are not of much value; but they possess the fine qualities of flatness and transparency in a remarkable degree.

Many important pictures exhibit much of this hatching, it is probably not in fresco, but done in retouching, to cover mistakes, or failures in laying in the flat tints. In fact it is very difficult to form a just opinion in all cases as to whether the hatching was done on the wet surface of the intonaco, or put on after it was dry.

The whole of the processes and of the materials used in fresco buono having, we believe, been described, the spurious practices, as well as the legitimate modes having been clearly separated, and the effects of each distinguished, we shall now for the sake of order, lay before our readers an account of the other style of fresco, called “Fresco Secco,” which does not appear to have been extensively adopted in the good age of art, but afterwards came into very general use, and has continued to be patronized up to the present time.

The painters of the later times have got up very extensive works in fresco secco, which are still to be seen, mostly well preserved, on the ceilings of the palaces in Rome, Florence, Genoa, &c., and amongst others the ceiling of the Barbarini Palace in the first-named city appears to be in this peculiar style of painting. It is the mode almost constantly adopted at present in Italy for mural decorations of all kinds, as it is applicable to every sort of subject, is quite under the control of the artist, is not very difficult in execution, is the most economical at present known in the arts, and its durability is quite established.

In Munich this practice has been adopted for several years past, to ornament the ceilings of corridors, staircases, arcades, &c., in the Royal Palace. It was the Chevalier Von Klenze who originally introduced it there, and he is very well satisfied it seems with the experiments to which it has been subjected in that city.

SECTION IV.
METHOD OF PAINTING IN FRESCO SECCO.

After the general plastering of the wall intended for this process has been finished, and a superior coat, or couch, of pure lime and sand has been laid over the surface, the whole is then allowed to dry thoroughly; this takes a longer or shorter time according to the solidity of the wall, and the state of the temperature to which it may be exposed: a dry warm atmosphere will of course accelerate the process of drying considerably. When this wall is found to be in a perfectly dry state, the surface, so far as may be required, is rubbed with pumice-stone, and late on the day previous to that on which the painting is to be commenced the plaster must be carefully washed with water, into which a small portion of lime has been infused; next morning the wall must again be washed. After this is completed, the cartoon is fastened up, and the outline being pounced, the artist commences his work. The colours used in this method, are similar to those employed in true fresco (fresco buono), they are mixed in the same way with water, and the white pigment is also lime.

If, as the operation goes on, the wall should become too dry, a syringe, pierced with many fine holes, is used to moisten it. Painting done in this way will bear washing as well as real fresco, and is as equally durable. As regards mere matters of ornament, it is a more certain and ready mode of working than solid fresco; for owing to the complicated forms of ornaments, it is impossible, in the latter art, to make the joinings at the proper outlines; therefore merely decorated walls in fresco never are satisfactory to the eye of taste, and this defect is very evident in the Loggia of the Vatican.

Another great advantage fresco secco has, as to the operation, over fresco buono is, that the former may be quitted and taken up again at any point; for the artist is not in the least degree compelled, as in the other style, to calculate his day’s work, and he has it in his power to keep the plaster constantly in a state fit for working upon. We have now shown all its advantages.

On the other hand we are bound to say, that except where merely ornamental painting is concerned, it is in every other respect a very inferior art to real fresco; for paintings in secco are always opake and heavy in their character, differing quite in this essential point from true fresco, which is lightsome, and has much clearness of tone, often a fine transparency. Fresco secco, therefore, cannot be placed in the same elevated rank as fresco buono; indeed with few exceptions it has always been in the hands of inferior masters of the later Italian school, and none of the works of these men in this style have any high reputation. With respect to the very early pictures which the Italians point out as having been painted in fresco secco, great doubts are entertained, although at present it is impossible to ascertain the fact with certainty. Secco may have been used to repair them, and thus it may have been hastily concluded that the entire works were done in this manner.

There appears, however, to be an important difference in the durability of the German fresco secco and the Italian of the present day; the former will bear washing, the Italian fresco secco of the present time will wash out: both of which useful facts Professor Wilson ascertained at Munich and Genoa. At the latter place Mr. Wilson says, with great truth, “The paintings in the churches and palaces have no claim to be called ‘real frescos,’ although they bear that denomination. A compound process has been followed in their execution. They were all commenced, or partly commenced, in fresco, but were finished in distemper; and as size has been used in mixing the colours, these can easily be removed by washing. The object of the Genoese artists, no doubt, has been to supply the fancied deficiencies of fresco painting in point of colour; but although they have succeeded in making use of vermilion, brilliant green, and bright yellow, they have not produced satisfactory works of art. The paintings are garish and out of harmony. The colours subsequently added in distemper do not harmonize with those previously used in fresco, and the general effect is totally devoid of that transparency which is distinctive of good fresco painting. The Genoese have, in fact, brought fresco down to the level of mere size painting, and the works they have produced are strong proofs of the danger of carrying the practice of retouching too far.”

Nothing can be more just than the above observations as to the evil practice of attempting to substitute the glare and glitter of colours for intellectual beauty and mental expression. It was an effort to give the merely physical ingredients, a superiority over the creations of superior intellect; in fact, to give painting a body without a soul.

Instances of a still more objectionable mode of treating, or rather mal-treating fresco, are unhappily still to be found in the Doria Palace at Genoa, wherein there are large mural paintings, which were not entirely prepared in fresco, and then retouched in distemper; but of which certain portions only were painted in fresco, and then the plaster being allowed to dry, the remaining portions which had not been touched when wet, were begun and finished in distemper! This very mechanical process has been attributed to Pierino del Vaga, and Pordenone, both of whom, though clever in many things, brought some vulgar practices into this class of art.