Front matter
CORNELL
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY
Preface
It is the aim of this book to be helpful, — not only to teachers and students who may be directly interested in the subject, but to the many others who feel the lack of a criterion or standard to assist them in forming a judgment in questions of design. Though the book is written primarily for workers, I have endeavored to tell the story in such way that it may be of interest to the general reader. A judgment is of little value unless it can be backed with a logical reason. If we would judge wisely and discriminate well, it must be from a more stable basis than personal whim or fancy. To fully appreciate a piece of constructive work, it is necessary to put one's self as nearly as is possible in the place of the worker, study the environment in which he worked, the conditions that confronted him in a solution of his problem, the technical limitations and possibilities through which his idea took definite form and from which his design derives character and style. Hence we may consider as pertinent any serious discussion which aims to define the principles of design and their practical application, touching upon a more sane, more artistic vi PREFACE
production, on the one hand, and a more intelligent, more discriminating judgment on the other.
The purpose of the book is best accomplished by the presentation of a series of problems. We learn by doing. In setting mind and hand to the solution of a definite problem, we meet and overcome questions which no amount of reading can foresee. We may attend lectures and indulge in critical discussions of design in terms of language ; we may become well versed in the history of art, and in biographical data pertaining to the lives of artists ; yet find ourselves far removed from any true appreciation j of the work of the past, or quite at a loss when confronted by a simple problem in constructive design demanding artistic invention.
Our problems lead from the simple, constructive use of lines and forms under clearly defined limitations to work involving considerable invention, fine feeling, and freedom of execution. They begin with the geometric and work toward Nature ; with the abstract, coming gradually into closer relation with the constructive questions discussed in the diflFerent chapters of the book.
The work is in no sense an effort to formulate a system or method for teaching design. Rather, it is a presentation of a few among many problems that have gradually developed during several years of teach-
PREFACE
Vll ing and practice. Many have found this work helpful, and its appearance in a series of magazine articles {The Craftsman) has aroused sufficient interest to justify its publication in book form. Through the courtesy of the editor of The Craftsman^ material has been also selected from articles contributed to that magazine subsequent to the original series.
The teacher of design in America must meet conditions quite different from those found in the Old World. Each country abroad has distinctive national traditions. We have no traditions ; in which fact is our best hope. Our salvation is to be sought not in borrowing from Europe, but in boldly striking for an elementary basis on which to build, in digging for bed rock on which to raise our superstructure. The student abroad is at all times within easy reach of museums and galleries, of churches and monuments, through which the development of the art of his own and other countries may be traced, and which offer facilities for comparative study not open to most students in America. Books, photographs, even casts, are insufficient to stimulate the imagination or develop the thought and fine feeling essential to fine work ; much less do they furnish a clew to work expressing something of American life and character.
Throughout the book the simplest type of technique with brush and pencil has been adhered to. It is not viii PREFACE
even brush-made design that is sought ; for there may be a distinctive style imparted to a design through the manipulation peculiar to the brush. The sole purpose here is to make the worker think in terms of design^ whatever medium or technique he may choose to employ. Skill in rendering with various mediums, charcoal, pencil, water and oil colors, contributes much to the problems given. But a book is no place for the teaching of technique.
Color has not been touched upon because it must, perforce, deal largely with diagrams and theories. To talk about color, or write about it, is very unsatisfactory, to writer and reader alike. Color can be discussed only through definite examples ; and reproductive processes are so inadequate to convey the precise meaning intended that it has seemed best to leave color entirely out of consideration.
The following list of materials will be found serviceable : Drawing board ; thumb tacks ; some squared, engine-ruled paper; some transparent Japanese watercolor paper; a bottle of waterproof, black India ink; an H.B. pencil; two brushes — No. 2 for lines, No. 7 for washes ; a tube of charcoal gray paint ; an eraser.
One unused to these tools and materials will find some practice necessary here quite as much as if one were to attempt designing in terms of wood or metal.
PREFACE ix
Some command of technique is essential to an acceptable expression of any idea.
My thanks are due to pupils who have generously furnished so much of the illustrative material used in the book, — to them and many others who have contributed more through their own thought and effort than the writer can hope to acknowledge.
ERNEST A. BATCHELDER.
Pasadena, Caufoknia.
Table Of Contents
CHAFTEK PAGES
I. Introduction 1-15
II. The Utilitarian Basis 16-34
Introduction
*' Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must have it with us or we find it not." — Emerson.
LET us give emphasis to one point at the start. The ability to design is not a secret that Nature has vouchsafed to genius alone. It is quite as much a matter of persistent work as of fortuitous inheritance. Indeed, there is so much of common sense and orderly thought involved in the process of building up a design that a resignation to failure is often an unconscious admission of one's own lack of persistence and energy. There is no v€st-p«cket guide through which one may find a short cut to distinction ; no rules or recipes which one may employ in lieu of personal thought and effort. To be sure, we cannot all produce work of equal merit and interest. To bring to that which we do accomplish some measure of understanding and appreciation is at least worth while. Work always rises to the level of the worker — never higher. To give thought, that one
B I may do common things uncommonly well, is the first essential toward the achievement of important things.
A great deal of the most interesting creative work left to us from the past was done at times when designing was more or less an instinctive process. It was instinct rather than reason that guided the primitive worker at all times. That is to say, he designed from the heart, not from the head. He made no effort to analyze motives or define principles ; his work was an unconscious response to the needs, the thought, and the life about him, to the environment in which he lived. The same may be said of peasant work, and of a considerable part of mediaeval crafts work. With us designing is an intellectual process, self-conscious, self-critical at all times. We cannot, if we would, escape the traditions and precedents of the centuries preceding us ; nor is there in the complex of our own life a thought or feeling sufficiently dominant to shape our work into a distinctive character or style. More than ever before, each individual is a " style " unto himself. Instead of playing many variations of a single tune we play many tunes with a variety of instruments.
It becomes the function of a teacher to point out the
way and call attention to the beauty of the scenery,
not to drive or push. It is very likely that there is no particular merit in any system or method for teaching design. In fact, the term design implies a wide margin of freedom for individual thought and effort. Work that is helpful to one pupil may not be for the best interests of another. A soil in which the rose will thrive is not necessarily good for the lily. To devise a " system " applicable by all and to all is farthest from the teacher's purpose. He may devise problems working from the simple to the complex, from the known and obvious to the unknown and difficult; but the value of the problem is in the thought it frames, the principle it defines, the stimulus It furnishes.
We study design, tlssi, to stimulate the imagination and arouse latent ideas, to develop original thought, to strengthen judgment, and to acquire the power to express ourselves through the terms and materials employed in a way that shall be, at least, clear and coherent.
By imagination is meant the active, creative faculty of the mind, not the passive state of mind that builds day-dream castles on a summer's holiday. It was a creative imagination that dared the cantilever bridge.
By original thought is meant the simple, straightforward means to an end, the logical reasoning from a premise of accepted conditions. There is no virtue in originality for the sake of being different.
Mr. Ruskin has said that " drawing may be taught by tutors ; but design only by heaven." In other words, we may be taught to observe things placed before us, and to make an adequate, if not an artistic, representation of what we see. In the representation of a chair, for instance, we may prove that a certain line is right or wrong; it admits of demonstration. But in designing a chair we pass beyond questions of right or wrong into fields where other distinctions must be sought. A design for a chair may be interesting or uninteresting, worthy or unworthy ; but no man shall say this design is right; that design is wrong. A chair must be comfortable to sit in, strong and durable in all its parts. These demands alone necessitate certain constructive elements — seat, legs, back, rungs, possibly arms. In the adjustment of these constructive elements we have the first step involved in the problem. Thus far distinctions of right and wrong may admit of demonstration. Now supposing it is the intention to make a beautiful chair : The first clew will be furnished by the various constructive elements ; in the adjustment of the lines and proportions demanded by utility. But in the refinement and enrichment of those lines and proportions we are faced by a problem answered only in part by utilitarian demands. The chair may be structurally adequate, but stupid and altogether uninteresting in design. For the rest we must possess that subtle faculty commonly called good taste. It requires a sound judgment, an appreciation of fundamental principles, a criterion or standard, whether of natural intuition, or acquired through long years of training and experience, which will lead us unerringly to the interesting expression of an idea. To stimulate and develop the creative faculty demanded in the production of a design for a chair is quite a different task from developing the faculty of observation required to make an adequate representation of a chair.
Tdndesign is to give tangible and definite expression to an idea. The term design implies an interesting, possibly a beautiful, at least an orderly, rendering of this expression. It may seem superfluous to say that we must first have an idea ! Yet it is the very paucity of ideas, the lack of imagination, that forms the first stumblingblock in the path which leads into our subject. In this age of acute specialization we are so dependent upon others for the things which we gather about us in daily life that few of us know the joy of creative work, of planning, building, completing things. Where, Indeed, can one who uses no tools, practices no craft, attempts no creative work, expect to evolve ideas or find a stimulus to the imagination ?
The beautiful things which we treasure so carefully in our museums and galleries were designed and executed by men with tools in their hands in those bygone days when art was not afraid of the grime and soot, the din and clatter of a workshop. To such men ideas came without conscious effort and were given expression in terms of wood, metal, stone, and paint as part of the day's work. There were no artists then ; nothing but craftsmen — some better than others. No one thought of studying design; much less of teaching it. Good taste and sound judgment came as a matter of course during the long years of apprenticeship at the bench. The principles of design were felt intuitively; but through succeeding generations of imitation and adaptation we have too often lost sight of principles and borrowed mere outward forms and symbols. We have drawn upon ideas which were once fresh, real, and significant because they embodied in their expression something of the thoughts and feelings of the times in which they were used, but which now appear as misapplied finery.
What is beauty ? How are we to know it when we have achieved it ? Things may be pretty, rich, stylish, elegant, and still lack all the essential elements of beauty.
Beauty is undefinable, though it is universal. It has no style or period or country. It may appear in an Indian basket woven under the heat of an Arizona sun by one whose life has known no other horizon than the line of the desert mesa tops ; it may be found above the plains of Athens in a form so enduring that time, war, and pillage have been unable to efface it.
If beauty is undefinable, we may at least learn something of the various ways in which it manifests itself. As we may know a man by the character of his acquaintances, so may we learn to recognize the beautiful in design through the associations with which it has always been found. The beautiful thing, whatever it may be, is invariably sane and orderly in arrangement, clear and coherent in expression, frank and straightforward in an acceptance of all the conditions imposed by questions of use, environment, construction, tools, materials, and processes. All of these things we may analyze ; we may reduce them to simple terms for purposes of study, and endeavor to establish definite principles for our guidance. Then, from simple beginnings through a process of experiment and comparison, a never ending process, we may hope to express ourselves in an orderly, consistent way. " We try for order and hope for beauty."
Where to begin ; how to begin. These are questions which interest the student. " Go to Nature," one man says. " There you will find your inspiration and there you will discover all the clews to consistent ornament." Will you, though ? Nature is indeed necessary to the designer, but not to the design. Nor is it necessary to point to a justification in Nature for all that we do in design. One is reminded of the old Spanish proverb, "He who would bring home the wealth of the Indies must take the wealth of the Indies with him." What do you expect to find in Nature > What message do you expect she has for you ? You may be sure she will return to you just what you take to her ; nothing more. It is like seeing faces in the fire. To one the fire is living ; the flames dance and laugh and whisper. To another the fire is merely a bed of sputtering coals shedding light and heat through the process of combustion. To each the fire is a reflection of the individual mind. Nature will not furnish you with an imagination, or teach you how to use the wealth which she places at your hand. These must originate with you. If you have them not, you might as well seek the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow as to expect help from Nature. When you have learned to think in terms of line, form, and tone, and have studied the possibilities and limitations of the problem which you are trying to solve, you may then turn to Nature for suggestions and assistance. She will never fail you.
"Go to Historic Ornament," another says. "In the various historic styles you will find the key to
good ornament." And so we continue to build Gothic
f ■ churches, and Greek convention halls, and Queen Anne cottages. Many of our designers boast of an ability to design anything from a chair to a house in any given period or style of ornament without an error of detail. What we most need are workers who can approach each new problem unhampered by tradition, though open minded to any structural suggestions which the past may offer, seeking to express without affectation, in a clear, straightforward way, something of our lives, our times, and our environment. It. is a superficial study of Historic Ornament, a familiarity with so-called styles and periods, that has given us the characterless bog of modern work. We have filled our heads with beautiful details, as we would gather chips in a basket. Is it not odd that we should resent plagiarism in literature and music, but complacently accept it as necessary in design ? We are sometimes told that originality is no longer possible or desirable ; that our best things have already been done for us ; that a readjustment of borrowed details is sufficient. But do we not mistake the meaning of originality? It may result from a determination to be unique, eccentric, different ; but we may be quite as original without departing from paths of order, simplicity, and frankness. Problem. The first interest, and, in the final analysis, the true strength of a design is to be found in the structural relation of its various elements. First lo DESIGN IN THEORY AND PRACTICE
of all there should be such an adjustment of the space and mass relations that the effect, as a whole, will be of interest. To this end there should be a dominant space or mass, with other spaces and masses subordinate. Within these big relations the details should be so disposed that the first interest will be justified and retained upon closer examination. The observer proceeds from an impression of the whole to a study of the parts ; the designer must put parts together with the effect of the whole in mind
By space is meant the part of the design that is left untouched. In Figure i the space is the plain weaving of the basketry ; in Figure 2 the spaces in each design are the spots of white, untouched paper, bits of silence left as a background. These background spaces, whether you choose or not, become an integral part of the design.
By mass is meant that portion of the design which is generally referred to as the design ; namely, decoration or ornament, whatever it may be. In Figure i the darker areas of weaving form the mass ; in Figure 1 the concentration of lines in each design furnishes a mass which, contrasted with the space, produces the first effect, a spotting of light and dark. By a dominant space or mass is meant a space or mass that is dominant in the design by reason of its tone, measure, or shape.
INTRODUCTION
II
In Figure 2, — ii, iii, iv, v, — we find an interest in the big, simple spotting of the designs. By way of comparison, vi, as a line design, lacks force and strength.
Fig.
We may feel that we are beginning to exercise some command over our materials and tools when we can adjust these relations of space end mass at will ; alter
(fi-
IZZID
CZZi
\m
Fig. 8.
their tones, measures, or shapes to conform to the idea we wish to express.
As a first effort in design we shall find our resources sufficiently taxed by a limitation to straight lines, vertical and horizontal. Stretch a piece of transparent paper over the squared underlay ; draw with light pencil lines a four-inch square with another square one quarter inch inside the first. Draw in the center a third square two inches in diameter with a fourth a quarter inch inside of this. We shall then have a result similar to Figure 2, i. It is hardly necessary to say that a rectangle of any other dimensions is quite as well adapted to the purpose. From this starting point, under the limitations imposed, we will endeavor, by means of contrasting areas of light and dark, to break the square into an interesting space and mass spotting. It will be found that a tone of dark is formed by the association of two or more Unes. Draw a number of lines on a piece of paper, and when seen from a distance of a few feet they will give the appearance of a flat tone of gray paint. This tone may be darkened by increasing the widths of the lines, or by bringing them into closer association. A graphic illustration of this is furnished in Figure 3, three renderings of the same motif in different tones. It is apparent that the choice of line is an important factor to be considered; and it generally happens that a first effort lacks character through the choice of a thin, weak line.
Like every problem in design, this one may be solved in a way that is merely adequate, though totally devoid
- of interest. It
7y I is not alone a
f^ I ' question of combining lines for the sake of areas of dark ; the combinations must be of sufficient invention and ingenuity to hold the attention. It is important that thoughtbe given to the amount of parallelism and opposition of the lines that make the measures of dark. Long lines parallel with the outline of the rectangle tend to strengthen the design ; but too many parallel lines result in monotony. There should be a spice of variety through the opposition of lines ; but too many sharp oppositions may bring confusion.
Now let us see if we can throw a dominant tone or mass of dark on to the diameter (Figure 2, ii), into the
Fig. 3.
INTRODUCTION
»S center (iii), to the corners (iv), or to the outer sides of the square (v), and retain withal a contrasting area of space or silence.
In order that a right start may be made, Figure 4 is added to show a possible development of such a problem. It is the purpose to throw the dominant mass of
Fig. 4.
the design to the outer sides of the square. This is accomplished at once in the first instance ; but there is lack of interest elsewhere. In the second the big space is broken and the different elements bound together. In the third more interest is given to the corners, in the fourth to the center ; but all parts are kept subordinate to the idea with which the problem started.
In Plate i is the finest possible adjustment of space and mass relations. As a work of art it is more important than anything we may expect to achieve ; but it is a question of degree, not of kind.
Chapter II
" Nothing made by man's hand can be indifferent ; it must be either beautiful and elevating, or ugly and degrading." — William Morris.
IT is not within the province of this book to impart specific information for the working of wood, metal, leather, etc. On the other hand, in treating design as theory and practice it is not the thought to work out paper-made patterns which may, perchance, be applied to some constructive problem. There is peculiar significance in the little word study. We do not study design, or music, or law for immediate application and profit. We study to acquire understanding and power. In design we may seek to define on paper the principles governing line, form, and tone composition from a purely aesthetic point of view. In a line parallel with this development we may seek to define those principles which give to constructive design vital, intimate, organic character. But the technical knowledge itself should be sought in a shop, not in a book. In the happy union of technical
i6 skill with invention, imagination, refined feeling is the end to be devoutly wished for in the work of the fiiture craftsman.
The evolution of a constructive design was briefly touched upon in the first chapter. It would be well to enumerate the most important points in a concise statement. There comes first, of course, an idea, arising, it may be presumed, from a desire to own or make an object of utility, convenience, or luxury, possessing some claims to beauty. Given a clearly defined idea, use and environment will lead one to a determination of the general form and dimensions. Practical considerations will lead also to a definition of the essential constructive elements and, primarily, to a choice of materials. The materials will naturally indicate the tools to be employed. But with all these factors entering into the problem we may achieve nothing more than a merely adequate expression of the idea. To give beauty to the product we must seek a refinement of the construction through an adjustment of the relative proportions of the parts to each other and to the whole. Then comes, if employed at all, enrichment on the basis of all that has preceded. Texture, color, finish — these, too, contribute to the beauty of the whole.
As a formula the above is useless. It means nothing until it becomes a habit through practice. Nor must it be assumed that the steps above enumerated follow one upon another in the precise order named at all times and under all conditions. The enrichment does not necessarily await its turn until all other questions have been solved. Each point mentioned furnishes a clew to the designer in the development of his product ; but, alas ! only a clew. There are many crossroads between the idea and a beautiful expression of it, many opportunities for the unwary to go astray.
Mere adequacy is not beauty. The present generation is abundantly endowed with practical sense, leading to the remarkable mechanical inventions of our time. To pursue an idea through the practical phase alone may lead to a locomotive, a linotype, a machine gun ; in other words, to the highest degree of efficiency. Complete efficiency may excite our admiration ; but beauty springs from an impulse that craves more than efficient service.
Let us examine the work of a master craftsman who followed this impulse for beauty from the clews suggested by utilitarian demands. There may be more important works of art than the little implement in Figure 5, fashioned by an Indian of the northwest coast of America ; but in his own primitive way he has furnished for us a valuable lesson in fundamentals. The simpler the lesson, the clearer the precept. It is a scraper for cleaning hides ! This may stand for the idea, — a real need, something useful. With the need for a scraper established, utility at once defined the general form and the constructive elements, a blade of iron, a handle of wood, the two bound together with thongs of rawhide smeared with pitch. A man who is
Fig. s.
making a tool for his own use may be depended upon not to ignore the practical questions of his problem ; but the impulse for beauty with which Nature saw fit to endow this Indian was of the kind that seeks expression in daily life and work. A few thoughtful touches of a knife, and an otherwise useful tool becomes an object of extreme interest, insistent in its personality. Being a hunter, this man's thought naturally turned to a beast-like motif as the elements of his design began to define themselves. The form of the creature is governed strictly by the fiinction which it has to perform as a handle ; each part, body, legs, and the long snout running out for a brace, is shaped for efficient service; and if you take the scraper in hand, you will find your thumb inevitably seeking a little hollow made for it between the ears. A far less skillful designer might have carved a far more realistic beast, and yet failed to achieve the very things which give distinction to this simple piece of craftsmanship. The more one studies it from every possible point of view, the more consistent and satisfying it becomes.
Now while it was said that mere adequacy is not beauty, it may likewise be said that adequate service is not incompatible with beauty. The assumption that art is a luxury, expensive, is the logical argument of an age that looks upon art as something apart from daily life, to be donned on occasions like a Sunday coat. We say that labor is too dear, time is too valuable, to bring art into the shop and factory to-day. And yet, has labor no other compensation than money ? And is time so very valuable, after all, when spent in the production of a thoughtless product, of inutilities, of novelties and fads, out of fashion and consigned to the scrap heap almost as soon as made? We may feel sure that our Indian valued his simple scraper, would fight for it in fact, because it has those requisites which make possession worth while, — efficient service, good workmanship, thoughtful design, personality.
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