Journal of Illustration - Volume 2, Issue 1, 2015

This article examines the unusual project announced in 1777 by the Spanish sculptor Celedonio Nicolás de Arce y Cacho (1739−1795) to ‘print from nature all kinds of botanical leaves without the use of plates’. The process created a special ink, impressed it onto the leaf, then pressed the inked plant on paper to leave a graphic tracing of its contours, stem and veins. Originally supported by the Spanish crown to perfect his process for use on a royal botanical expedition, Arce abandoned the project several years later. The ambiguities within Arce’s nature printing seem to have hindered its adoption and contributed to its neglect. For example, a specimen only made one or, at best, a few legible impressions, then had to be thrown out, so that here ‘printing’ does not mean multiplicity. At the same time, such nature prints were also called ‘drawing’, yet no manual draftsmanship was involved. Drawing was a critical concern, as it was considered the best way to convey knowledge of the natural world through close observation of the model. The planar formal elements and the conflicting conceptions of nature printing as index and autogenesis rehearse those that reappeared with paper photography, especially cameraless images. Early photographs were frequently affiliated with drawing and described as ‘nature drawing herself’. Ultimately, neither early paper photography nor nature printing were able to supply the kind of botanical illustration demanded by the dominant Linnaean system of knowledge.

D’Arcy Thompson’s groundbreaking book On Growth and Form (1917) pioneered the science of mathematical biology. Its literary qualities have been frequently commented upon but arguably more influential have been its illustrations, particularly the famous transformation diagrams. This article discusses the origins and context of these iconic images, exploring D’Arcy Thompson’s own artistic and scientific interests, the long development of his controversial theories and the other collaborators involved, including illustrators Doris MacKinnon and Helen Ogilvie. It explores the various influences that the images have had in science, geography and particularly in art. Many notable artists have been drawn to the images and visual analogies of D’Arcy Thompson’s work, and the article concludes by describing examples ranging from the early graphic work of Henry Moore to the illustrative exercises created by Richard Hamilton and Victor Pasmore for their pioneering Basic Design Course, and on to current artists including Lindsay Sekulowicz and Gemma Anderson.

The discussion about the order of nature holds a central position in the History of Biological Science. It reached its culmination between the mid-eighteenth and the late nineteenth century, when new knowledge forced a rearrangement of existing thought patterns to adapt them to the recently discovered complexity. Not only different concepts about the relationships among organisms were superseding one another, but also images, as a variety of structures were used to visually display these ideas. Each of these visualizations, usually described as ladders, maps, networks and trees, developed a particular, individual formal language, generating a unique and fascinating collection of graphical examples. This formal variability is a product of the changing ideas about nature, about its origins, and even about the position attributed to human beings within it. However, it is also the result of the authors’ struggle with the drawing space in which this order was to be inscribed.

By studying the history of the illustration of the order of nature from the perspective of applied image production, by analysing the strategies their authors used to visually express their ideas, the graphical elements they employed, in summary, the visual choices they made, much can be learnt about the visual medium itself, its specificity, its possibilities, its power. Using this approach, the following article will show that the transition from the scala naturae to maplike or treelike structures cannot be seen exclusively as proof of an intellectual transition, as a succession of abstract ideas, but as creative attempts to solve specific spatial problems imposed by the realm of the visual.

In seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Europe, the origin of the universe was not only a theologic preoccupation, as various scientists attempted to construct a comprehensive vision of the Earth’s past, formation and chronology. Far from trying to conflict scientific statements with the sacred tradition, this literature harmonized them, giving birth to a unique and noteworthy literature concerned with the origin of the world: Theories of the Earth. Originally published in 1749, Histoire et théorie de la Terre/Natural History of the Earth is an example of this. Written by the French naturalist Georges-Louis Leclerc – aka Comte de Buffon – the treatise unveils the author’s cosmogenic views. According to him, the Earth is a fragment of the Sun, once impacted by a comet. The audacity of Buffon’s cosmogenic scenario can be surprising; yet it is nonetheless skilfully illustrated. Three of the illustrations draw our attention because of their distinct features. If some are highly accurate, others seem contradictory. This article will focus on the variety of outlooks its illustrations provide on the ground-breaking cosmogenic theory imagined by Buffon. We will particularly examine the extent to which they comply with the eighteenth-century ‘rationalization’ of the Genesis narrative.

This article explores the challenge presented by the twentieth-century French Livre d’Artiste to the text–image hierarchy of French book illustration. The notion that text took precedence over image was rooted in the idea that illustrations served as a means to adorn prose, aiming to literally represent the text without adding anything of substance to the writer’s work. It was not until the turn of the century, with the introduction of a new concept of the French illustrated book called the Livre d’Artiste, that this traditional hierarchy of text and image was threatened. The Livre d’Artiste brought together the prose of celebrated texts complemented by original pictorial work of well-known artists. Despite the relatively limited field of scholarship surrounding the Livre d’Artiste, this article argues that the genre can claim to represent the greatest challenge to the text–image hierarchy of French book illustration at the turn of the century. It is divided into three sections: examples of illustrators and writers who upheld the hierarchy; works and artists that challenged the balance; and finally the emergence of the Livre d’Artiste, presenting instances in which the genre reversed the hierarchy. This article includes analysis of works by Henry James, Gustave Doré, Honoré de Balzac, J. J. Grandville, Stéphane Mallarmé, Edouard Manet, Pablo Picasso, Max Jacob, Blaise Cendrars and Fernand Léger.

Illustrator Tim McDonagh is inspired by natural forms. While he is not a ‘technical illustrator’ his illustrations of natural subjects have a concern with accuracy as well as an obsessive attention to detail. He is perhaps best known for his work for the science journal New Scientist including a number of cover designs. In April 2015 Tim McDonagh spoke with Adrian Holme about his interests, his influences and his approach to image-making. The interview provides an interesting insight into one illustrator’s process of making images in a scientific editorial context. Although this editorial context differs somewhat from the more technical scientific illustration, similar issues of ‘objectivity’, veracity and the extent of imaginative interpretation still arise.

Fifty Years of Illustration, Lawrence Zeegen and Caroline Roberts (2014) 1st ed., London: Laurence King, 384 pp. ISBN: 9781780672793, h/bk, £30