charm. There is no ground for supposing, indeed we may confidently deny, that the Japanese ever approached the problem of colour from a scientific point of view; that they knew anything about the law of complements and contrasts; that they possessed a definite idea about the relief of warm colours by cool, or the blending of similar notes and tones by gradation.
Playing on the Biwa (Kobori Tomone).
But their practice shows that they fully appreciated the prime qualities of colour symphony—richness, accordance and mellowness. There is never a shrill or strident note in these musical pictures. The primitive colours are there sufficiently to produce strength and volume, but always delicacy of shade and softness of hue are the pervading characteristics, and the broken tones blend gently without jar or conflict. If we consider the chromo-xylograph in the sequel of the magnificent monochromes of Shiubun, Sesshiu, Jasoku, the Kanos and the other giants of the classical schools, where the painter’s appreciation of “values” amounts almost to an unerring instinct, we are led to conclude that the Japanese artists did not attempt to elaborate scientific theories but went direct to nature for their teaching, thus discovering and applying the fundamental law that every shade or colour has its proper place in a scene, and must hold a fixed relation to its associates in the general scale. The ukiyo-ye seems, in short, to have arrived in the regular order of evolution, for the artist passed from a knowledge of low keys and simple colour compositions, developed in the Chinese schools, to a profound sense of the wider scope and fuller harmony of high, diversified colours, and thus succeeded in combining the flame and glow of sunshine brilliancy with the tenderness and refinement of twilight tints.
But while admitting his greatness as a colourist, many critics have condemned his
