Colour-Music: The Art of Mobile Color/Chapter 13
CHAPTER XIII
REMARKS UPON CRITICISMS AND APPRECIATIONS OF COLOUR-MUSIC
IN this chapter it is proposed to consider some of the points which have arisen during the long series of experiments made in mobile colour, and also to give a brief summary of some of the critical and other opinions from outside sources.
These two classes of opinions and criticisms are, of course, very diverse both in character and value. The small group of musicians, artists, and others who have followed or taken part in the experiments carried out personally by the author, and have watched the construction and reconstruction of the colour-organ and similar instruments, have been in a very much better position to discover weak points and appreciate strong ones than those who have merely been present at one or two public lectures where it has not been possible to enter into long explanations or discussion of the objects aimed at, the questions at issue, and the difficulties which have had to be overcome. With the former these could be talked over as they arose, and from time to time alterations could be made in the mechanical construction of the instruments, and the principles on which they have been designed could be revised, so as to take advantage of fresh experiences and criticisms.
With regard to articles upon the subject there has been much intelligent appreciation of the views put forward, and but little of the hostility which usually greets a new departure. It was quite inevitable that there should be some misconceptions, both as to the theories advanced and the results to be achieved; but by reprinting portions of some of the articles that have appeared the opportunity is afforded of clearing away some of these misunderstandings, and I therefore propose to adopt this course.
Before doing so, however, it may be as well once more to state the position claimed for colour-music.
The first and most important contention I have put forward has been, and still is, that there is a broad general resemblance between the effect produced upon the mind and the emotions by colour and by musical sounds. Going further, I, with many others, consider that with both colour and sound this general resemblance in emotional effect is largely dependent upon proportion and contrast coupled with harmony and dissonance, that this makes the general analogy still closer, and that there are other important points of resemblance. Whether, or how far, the physical analogy between the spectrum-band and the octave holds good or has its counterpart in sensation, is, it may once again be said, a secondary matter and one open to question, but on broad lines I submit that the deeper points of resemblance between the effects of colour and musical sounds upon us are so strong that they cannot be disputed by any unprejudiced person, though the support of this contention must depend to a great extent upon actual experiment and demonstration, and it is unavoidable that the question should be complicated by variations in individual capabilities of receiving emotional impressions, either from music or from colour.
Quite apart from any resemblance to or dependence upon music, a mobile colour art has a raison d'être and firm and solid foundations upon which it can be built up, as already contended elsewhere.
Returning now to the main subject of this chapter, the first impressions received from colour-music are as a rule those of the varying beauty of the colour itself, with which for the time being the eye is satisfied, without the mind attempting to analyse the sequences of colour or to inquire whether any method is behind the effects produced.
This would seem to correspond to the stage in the appreciation of music in which all that is demanded is something pleasant to the ear, and in which an untrained auditor is unable to take in the details or the deeper musical significance of a serious work.
The next step is usually that of the recognition of colour phrases, of the repetition of these in varied form, and of there being a general intention or structure in a colour-music composition.
Curiously enough, experiment has shown beyond possibility of doubt that for most people a colour composition which has been based or modelled upon an already existing musical one is more interesting and produces finer effects than most original compositions. I do not wish to attach any undue weight to this, as it is probably owing to the fact that mobile colour has yet to find its great composers, and that the experience required to write original colour compositions has yet to a large extent to be acquired, but it is a strong argument for using musical precedents as a temporary assistance.
When the colour phrase as shown upon the screen becomes easily grasped and recognized, the next demand made by the eye and the mind appears to be for some sort of predominant tendency in the colour—for something which, figuratively speaking, might correspond to "key" in music, but which would also partially include other general characteristics of a musical work. As in painting, a colour composition may be either warm or cool in tendency, or with strong or merely delicate transitions and variations. It may also, for instance, be written in a general key of some one particular colour which is predominant throughout, and in which contrast is very sparingly used, or it may be greatly broken up and with rapid alternations of contrast.
Contrast is more demanded at first and less later on, and there are many other points of this kind which are of interest, but into which it would be tedious to enter at any length in the absence of actual demonstration.
One of the difficulties with which mobile colour has had to deal is that of wide fluctuations of luminosity in the compound tints, and various mechanical devices have been designed and experimented with in the construction of the instrument in order to overcome this. To a large extent it has been now avoided, and it has been found that extreme and disagreeable alternations in luminosity are chiefly due to ineptitude in composition or extemporization.
Turning for the moment from the results of actual experiment to outside criticisms, it has been asserted that one difficulty with which colour-music has to deal is, that the eye is incapable of appreciating changes of colour as rapid as the changes of tone which occur in music. If this were so, it would merely be an argument against the direct translation of rapid sound-music compositions into colour-music. The art of mobile colour does not, however, make such translations or adaptations one of its chief objects, and it might, in fact, abandon them altogether and yet leave its main purposes untouched.
It is, moreover, demonstrable that, so far from the eye being unable to appreciate changes as rapid as those which the ear can follow, its capacity is much greater in this respect. In photography it is found impossible to design a shutter so rapid in its action as to enable the most sensitive photographic plate to seize the image of some very rapidly moving bodies. These are therefore sometimes exposed in the dark, and illuminated for an infinitesimal portion of a second by an electric spark of a duration far shorter than that of any musical note. If we take two such electric sparks of different colours and allow them to appear in a darkened space, the eye will, notwithstanding, be perfectly capable of distinguishing between their respective colours. No musical note at all approaches an electric spark as to its shortness of duration, and therefore the whole contention as to the inferiority of the eye in this respect falls to the ground. This, however, should be frankly admitted, namely, that rapid colour changes are at first fatiguing, and that to appreciate them in colour-music requires some training and experience. At first there is a sensation of dazzle, but, as previously stated, this gradually disappears, and is after a time, with most people, entirely lost. So much so is this the case that, as pointed out, the preference for slow compositions soon gives place to the desire for more and more rapid ones.
A difficulty that occurred to the mind of a musical critic was that in music the high notes, namely those of rapid vibrations, are cheerful and light; while to him the more pleasing and exhilarating colours, such as red, have the lowest vibrations. In reply it may be said that this is a purely personal impression and cannot be taken as a normal one. In the construction of the forms of colour-organ provided with a keyboard, the upper octaves are paler and lighter than the lower ones. If, therefore, there is anything in the contention that cheerfulness and light are intimately associated, that association is taken account of in the arrangement of the colour scale in these instruments. But, as a matter of fact, few people would agree with this critic in thinking that low-toned reds such as are found at the red end of the spectrum-band are the most cheerful colours. Nothing is much more cheerful and exhilarating than the strong or opalescent blue of the sky or of many flowers.
With regard to this point, in the careful researches which have been carried out in Germany as to the relatively pleasant effect of different colours upon the eye, satisfactory results could of course only be obtained by taking averages from a large number of people, and in the present stage of education, or rather of ignorance, with regard to colour it is quite impossible to found any arguments upon isolated instances of preference for individual colours, or, even taking a wider view, upon those attaching to one end of the colour scale or the other.
Another critic who evidently felt the initial difficulty of appreciating rapid colour changes wrote in an excellent article upon the subject: "For those—and they are many—who love colour for its own sake, the new art seems to offer endless possibilities of pleasure, and their only grief will be that each beautiful colour is only seen for a short moment before it is succeeded by another." He went on to say that, "though the training of the last few thousand years or so has enabled us to detect tune in sound, we are as yet unable to detect it in colour." We have already discussed rapidity of change and its advantages, and with regard to "tune" it may be said that a melody is nothing more than a pleasing succession of notes arranged in some rhythmical order, some shorter, some longer, some pleasant in sequence, some less so. In colour it is quite possible to have the same kind of arrangement, and many persons can, even at first sight, receive pleasure from such a colour phrase or melody, and can remember it perfectly. Both the power of recalling it and the pleasure of seeing it are, of course, rapidly increased by education of the eye, and it is quite true that it may need a long period of time for average audiences to gain an appreciation of colour-music at all equal to that they now have of sound. This is, however, not an argument against the art, but rather one in favour of giving increased opportunities for studying it. The writer went on to say that he fails to see how emotion can be awakened "unless a distinct faculty for appreciating tune is developed"; but in colour, just as in music, experiment shows that an emotional impression can be produced even by a sequence of two or three notes, and it is probable that colour is much more independent of definite melody or tune than is music.
Turning from tune to form, some of those whose impressions of mobile colour effects I have tested experimentally feel in the first instance a certain uneasiness when form—that is to say, a space of colour of a definite and distinctive shape—is entirely absent. Seeing colour they seem instinctively to demand form also, though in a short time the desire for it lessens and finally disappears. This is but what might be expected. We are accustomed to associate colour with the shapes of objects, and at first it surprises and somewhat puzzles us to see it separated from them and presented to us for its own sake. Then after a time, having our attention confined to colour alone, we begin to appreciate it more and more, and to realize how beautiful and impressive it may be apart from any form whatever.
But this initial difficulty has to be faced and will always recur at first, and we must not only be prepared for it with those who are new spectators, but also with the larger number of persons who only hear or read descriptions of colour-music. How, they ask, can colour be interesting without form? And all that can be said is that actual experience of it is the only satisfactory reply to the question.
It would seem that what really take the place of the additional interest which form gives to fixed or stationary colour are the elements of change and of rhythm which a mobile colour system introduces.
The increase in the desire for rapid changes contrasting with slower ones, already several times referred to, seems to point to this conclusion, and form, in the sense in which the musician uses the word in speaking of a musical composition, gradually enters into or attaches itself to the colour in the mind of the spectator.
There will always be a certain number of people who perhaps having little natural liking either for music or for colour—or who, caring much for music, have little feeling for other forms of art—will ask whether mobile colour has any "practical objects," or whether it can be turned to any "practical use." They ask this in all sincerity and with no desire to be hypercritical. The question has, to a certain extent, already been dealt with, but may be answered rather more fully here. The art of mobile colour stands in the same kind of relation to the practical side of life as music or painting occupy. It cannot actually produce a pattern for a fabric or a subject for a picture, but it can stimulate and develop the senses and faculties upon which the ability to design in colour depends; and better than this, it can bring a new source of interest and refreshment as well as a refining influence into life, just as music has done.
Any art that develops the faculties which enable mankind better to enjoy and appreciate the infinite beauty of nature is worth cultivating, and it is impossible to say to what its study may lead, or for what useful purposes it may not ultimately be turned to account.
One or two writers, in referring to my early lectures on the subject, whilst admiring the beauty of the colour effects produced, and admitting the plea for the development of a mobile colour art, were nevertheless of opinion that it should not be associated with music. Their grounds appeared to be, firstly, that they did not admit closeness of the musical analogy in some respects—a point I have fully dealt with elsewhere—and that they considered it unnecessary to associate colour with music in order to enhance and increase the emotional influence of the latter upon the hearers or spectators.
This view is based upon a misapprehension. I have never asserted or thought that all, or even most, forms of music would gain by being associated with or accompanied by mobile colour. My contention has been, and still is, that mobile colour, if not always used as a separate art, may with advantage be associated with music in compositions in which each gives and sacrifices something in order to produce a combined art, and occasionally also may be used as an addition to already existing musical works, which seem to allow of this. There is a very obvious precedent for this in opera, in which the musical score sacrifices something to the words and action, and, on the other hand, the latter concede a good deal to the music, so that a co-partnership is established of mutual benefit. I think upon reflection it will be admitted that there is a good deal to be said for a similar co-partnership between colour and musical sound.
Another of the writers referred to made a curious criticism. He said: "Music is absolutely an art of proportion, the charm of a chord consisting of the proportions to one another of vibration of its component notes. A quick ear always feels a note as a vibrating tone and can soon be trained to detect the different components of simple chords. Does any painter, even the most competent, recognize vibration as part of colour? Could he resolve a compound colour with certainty into its components, saying at once which of these components was quickest in vibration? Can our enjoyment of colour be shown in any way to be due to a sense of vibration?" To this it may be replied that in every picture, in every decorative design, in every colour pattern, the question of proportion of the colour tints and the colour masses enters, and also that any artist can determine almost at a glance what are the tints and what are the pigments, and the degrees of strength which build up any given space of colour in a picture. As to vibration in colour, a whole school of painters endeavour to express their sense of the vibratory origin of colour by technical processes which emphasize it, so much so that some few have even called themselves Vibrationists.
A certain number of criticisms resolve themselves into various forms of expressed doubt as to whether the asserted analogy between colour and music holds good at all points. In the previous chapters of this book I have entered somewhat fully into this question; but it may be here restated once more that I do not consider the analogy to be a close one in every respect, however certain and important it may be in others. If it were precisely similar at all points, there would, in fact, be less to be said for the development of this new form of art. If colour were completely analogous or identical in its effects upon our minds to those produced by music, there would be little advantage in using it for such an art. But it appeals to another sense capable of stimulating similar emotions upon which an art somewhat resembling music can be built up—but arousing other interests, developing other faculties, and opening up other possibilities.
The disinclination of some to allow that colour should be put into partnership with music has already been referred to; but there are others, again, who seem to feel that the chief emotional use for mobile colour will be in illustration and emphasis of musical compositions. It has nevertheless been asserted by one writer that, though this association of the two arts seems desirable, "the eye can grasp but an octave of colour, while the more delicate and complex ear possesses some ten thousand fibres, each vibrating in sympathy with the musical note. The pitch and intensity of a sound may be arbitrarily represented in colour, but what about the qualities of tone? This third attribute of a note or chord finds something wanting in the sister science."
In reply to this, it may be said again that, as a matter of fact, the number of tints appreciable by the eye exceeds by hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, the number of tones appreciable by the ear. It is quite true that there is only one octave of colour, but the intercombination between the component colours of that octave in the vast ranges of tones they possess, gives us the almost endless variety of colours which we see in nature and in art, whereas it is scientifically demonstrated that the tones appreciable by the ear are not at all comparable in their number to these.[1]
The second objection as to quality of tone in music not being represented in colour opens up an interesting point. Timbre in music is produced by the admixture, greater or less, of harmonics with the ground-note which is being sounded; or with each of the notes composing a chord. If the vibrations of air producing a given note are recorded by an optical curve by means of a suitable instrument, with a needle attached to a sensitive diaphragm which traces it upon a smoked glass, these harmonics clearly show themselves as small notches or wave crests upon the main line of the pulsations of the diaphragm, being 
To Illustrate "Timbre."
The upper line (a) shows curves produced by a musical note with timbre harmonics, the lower line (b) those given by a tuning-fork nearly free from harmonics.
In colour we have, as a matter of fact, somewhat similar harmonic interruptions. If a particular colour is taken, say a general tone of rose colour, and its texture is broken up by slight tendencies to violet, to warmer red or to orange, an effect is produced upon the eye which may be said to be analogous to that of timbre in music. An absolutely pure colour thrown upon the screen, or made visible in some other way, may be taken from one point upon the spectrum-band, and will then correspond to an absolutely pure musical note without harmonics. But nearly the same colour sensation, though an enhanced one as to beauty and interest, may be produced by slightly altering the original ground tint and breaking into it with almost imperceptible streaks, dots, mottlings, or texture-producing marks of other divergent colours, in such a way as to give the same general impression as did the original colour yet with a different texture. This in pigments is a process well known to the artist, and he relies upon it for some of his most beautiful colour effects. Timbre in music corresponds, in fact, somewhat nearly to "quality" or texture produced by harmonious or divergent tints in the case of colour.
- ↑ See reference to this in the chapter upon the psychology of the subject.