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vi | CONTENTS
CHAPTER
4 INTRODUCTION
SCALE AND PROPORTION
MANIPULATING SCALE
68
Scale and Proportion 70 AND PROPORTION
Surrealism and Fantasy 80
SCALE OF ART
Human Scale Reference 72 PROPORTION
Geometry and Notions
SCALE WITHIN ART
of the Ideal 82
Internal References 74
Root Rectangles 84
Internal Proportions 76
Contrast of Scale 78
CHAPTER
5 INTRODUCTION
BALANCE
88
86
Balance by Texture and
Pattern 100
IMBALANCE
Balance by Position and
Horizontal and Vertical
Eye Direction 102
Placement 90
Analysis Summary 104
SYMMETRICAL BALANCE
RADIAL BALANCE
Bilateral Symmetry 92
Examples in Nature and Art 106
Examples from Various
Art Forms 94 CRYSTALLOGRAPHIC BALANCE
Allover Pattern 108
ASYMMETRICAL BALANCE
Introduction 96
Balance by Value and Color 98
CHAPTER
6 INTRODUCTION
RHYTHM 110
PROGRESSIVE RHYTHM
Engaging the Senses 112 Converging Patterns 120
Visual Rhythm 114
POLYRHYTHMIC STRUCTURES
RHYTHM AND MOTION A Study in Contrast 122
Shapes and Repetition 116
ALTERNATING RHYTHM
Patterns and Sequence 118
Copyright 2011 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part. Due to electronic rights, some third party content may be suppressed from the eBook and/or eChapter(s).
Editorial review has deemed that any suppressed content does not materially affect the overall learning experience. Cengage Learning reserves the right to remove additional content at any time if subsequent rights restrictions require it.
CONTENTS | vii
Part 2
DESIGN ELEMENTS
CHAPTER
7 INTRODUCTION
LINE 126
LINE QUALITY
A Point Set in Motion 128 Creating Variety
and Emphasis 138
LINE AND SHAPE
Defining Shape and Form 130 LINE AS VALUE
Using Lines to Create
TYPES OF LINE
Dark and Light 140
Actual, Implied, and
Psychic Lines 132 LINE IN PAINTING
Outline of Forms 142
LINE DIRECTION
Explicit Line 144
Horizontal, Vertical,
and Diagonal Lines 134 LOST-AND-FOUND CONTOUR
Suggestions of Form 146
CONTOUR AND GESTURE
Precision or Spontaneity 136 INHERENT LINE
Structure of the Rectangle 148
CHAPTER
8 INTRODUCTION
SHAPE 150
ABSTRACTION
Shaping Perception 152 Essence of Shape 162
PREDOMINANCE OF SHAPE 154 NONOBJECTIVE SHAPES

Pure Forms 164
VOLUME/MASS
Working in Two and Three CURVILINEAR SHAPES 166
Dimensions 156
RECTILINEAR SHAPES AND
NATURALISM AND DISTORTION COMBINATIONS 168
Exaggerated Shapes 158
POSITIVE/NEGATIVE SHAPES
NATURALISM AND IDEALISM Introduction 170
Nature and Aspiring Isolation or Integration 172
to Perfection 160 Emphasis on Integration 174
Ambiguity 176
viii | CONTENTS
CHAPTER
9 PATTERN
PATTERN AND TEXTURE
TACTILE TEXTURE
178
Creating Visual Interest 180 Actual and Implied 188
Order and Variety 182 Collage 190
TEXTURE AND PATTERN VISUAL TEXTURE

Similarities and Differences 184 Verisimilitude and Trompe L’oeil 192
TEXTURE
Creating Visual Interest 186
CHAPTER
10 INTRODUCTION
ILLUSION OF SPACE
AMPLIFIED PERSPECTIVE
194
Translating Space A Different Point of View 216
to Two Dimensions 196
MULTIPLE PERSPECTIVE
DEVICES TO SHOW DEPTH A Pictorial Device 218
Size 198
ISOMETRIC PROJECTION
Overlapping 200
A Spatial Illusion 220
Vertical Location 202
Aerial Perspective 204 OPEN FORM/CLOSED FORM
Plan, Elevation, Perspective 206 The Concept of Enclosure 222
Linear Perspective 208
TRANSPARENCY
One-Point Perspective 210
Equivocal Space 224
Two-Point Perspective 212
Multipoint Perspective 214 CONCLUSION
Complexity and Subtlety 226
CHAPTER
11 INTRODUCTION
ILLUSION OF MOTION
WAYS TO SUGGEST MOTION
228
Stillness and Arrested Figure Repeated, Figure Cropped 234
Action 230 Blurred Outlines and Fast Shapes 236
Multiple Image 238
ANTICIPATED MOTION
Seeing and Feeling OPTICAL MOVEMENT
Impending Action 232 Afterimage and Eye
Movement 240
CONTENTS | ix
CHAPTER
12 INTRODUCTION
VALUE 242
VALUE AND SPACE
Light and Dark 244 Using Value to Suggest Space 250
VALUE PATTERN TECHNIQUES

Variations in Light and Dark 246 An Overview 252
VALUE AS EMPHASIS
Creating a Focal Point 248
CHAPTER
13 INTRODUCTION
COLOR 254
COLOR AND BALANCE
Color Theory 256 Achieving Balance within
Asymmetrical Composition 274
COLOR CHARACTERISTICS
Color Perception 258 COLOR AND SPACE
Color’s Spatial Properties 276
PROPERTIES OF COLOR
Hue and the Three Dimensions COLOR SCHEMES
of Color Perception 260 Monochromatic/Analogous 278
Value 262 Complementary/Triadic 280
Intensity/Complementary
COLOR DISCORD AND VIBRATING
Colors 264
COLORS
PALETTES Unexpected Combinations 282
Mixing Light and Mixing Pigments 266
COLOR USES
VISUAL COLOR MIXING Local, Optical, Arbitrary 284
Techniques That Suggest Light 268
EMOTIONAL COLOR
COOL/WARM COLORS Color Evokes a Response 286
Identifying Color
COLOR SYMBOLISM
with the Senses 270
Conceptual Qualities
COLOR AS EMPHASIS of Color 288
Color Dominance 272
Part 3
THREE-DIMENSIONAL DESIGN
CHAPTER
14 INTRODUCTION TO THREE-
3D DESIGN INTRODUCTION
LOOKING
292
DIMENSIONAL DESIGN Attentive Observation 298
Organizing Form 294 Similarities and Differences 300
Design Defined 296 Connections 302
x | CONTENTS
TOUCH LEARNING
Tactile Sensation 304 Becoming Informed and Aware 310
CONTEXT
A Shaping Force 306
Site Specific 308
CHAPTER
15 INTRODUCTION
IDEAS AND APPROACHES
SIMPLICITY
312
Research 314 Reductive Sensibility 334
Process 316
SKETCHING, MODEL MAKING,
PROCESS AND PROTOTYPES
The Vessel 318 Ideation 336
Nature 320
DETAIL
TOOLS Close Attention 338
Extending Capability 322
MEANING AND VALUE
TRANSFORMATION An Interpretive Act 340
Transcending Physicality 324
SOURCES
VARIATION AND DEFORMATION Generating Creative Energy 342
Altering Form 326 Nature 344
Geometry and Mathematics 346
THINKING IN SERIES
Culture 348
Focused Investigation 328
WORLDVIEW
CONCEPTUAL STRATEGIES
Belief Systems 350
The Idea Becomes a Machine That
Modernism 352
Makes the Art 330
Postmodernism 354
PLAY, INVENTION, PROBLEM
SOLVING
Discovery 332
CHAPTER
16 INTRODUCTION
3D DESIGN ELEMENTS
2D TO 3D
356
Form 358 The Relationship of the Planar to the
Dimensional 368
FORM
The Cube 360 SURFACE QUALITIES
Texture 370
MASS AND SPACE
Color 372
The Art of the Hole and the Lump 362
LIGHT
LINE
Chromatic Luminosity 374
A Point Set in Motion 364
TIME AND MOTION
PLANE
Kinetic Structure 376
The Two-Dimensional Element 366
CONTENTS | xi
CHAPTER
17 INTRODUCTION
3D DESIGN PRINCIPLES
SYMMETRY
378
Organization 380 Correspondence across a Divide 398
UNITY ASYMMETRY
Gestalt 382 Dynamic Form 400
UNITY AND VARIETY HARMONY

Dynamic Partnership 384 Unity, Balance, Order 402
REPETITION PROXIMITY
Visual and Structural 386 An Organizational Tool 404
Modularity 388
EMPHASIS
PATTERN Contrast 406
Ordered Repetition 390
PROPORTION
RHYTHM Ratio 408
Fluid Form 392
SCALE
ILLUSION OF MOTION Comparative Size 410
Origin and Implementation 394 The Miniature 412
Monumental 414
BALANCE
Actual and Implied 396
CHAPTER
18 INTRODUCTION
MATERIAL 416
NEW MATERIALS
Material Carries Meaning 418 Technological Development 424
WORKABILITY SUSTAINABILITY
Ease of Use 420 Reuse and Green Design 426
MATERIAL
Bamboo 422
CHAPTER
19 INTRODUCTION
STRUCTURE 428
JOINERY
Structural Principles 430 Structural Connection 436
STRUCTURAL ECONOMY TRANSFORMERS

Efficient Form 432 Collapsible and Expandable
Structure 438
TENSION AND COMPRESSION
Physical Forces 434
xii | CONTENTS
CHAPTER
20 INTRODUCTION
FUNCTION 440
STYLE
Utility 442 Signature and Typology 450
UTILITY
Design and Art Compared 444
Art 446
Form and Function 448
CHAPTER
21 INTRODUCTION
FIGURATION 452
ILLUSION
Representation 454 Camouflage 456
Art and Architecture 458
CHAPTER
22 INTRODUCTION
FORMING AND FABRICATION
HYBRID FORM
460
Making 462 Blurring Boundaries 476
BASIC FORMING INDUSTRIAL METHODS

Additive 464 The Machine Aesthetic 478
Subtractive 466
COMPUTER AIDED DESIGN
Constructive 468
The Future Is Here 480
THE FOUND OBJECT
REPLICATION TECHNOLOGIES
The Readymade 470
Basic and Traditional 482
The Altered Readymade
New Approaches 484
and Bricolage 472
BRIDGING ART AND LIFE

Art and Everyday Experience 474
GLOSSARY 486
BIBLIOGRAPHY 491
PHOTOGRAPHIC SOURCES 493
INDEX 497
PREFACE
Design Basics: 2D and 3D offers a comprehensive introduction FLEXIBILITY
to design across a wide spectrum of media and practices. The
original Design Basics (now in its eighth edition) presents the Get the resources you need the way you want …
transcendent elements and principals of design as we find
them in a universe of examples from drawing to architecture, Lauer/Pentak, Roth/Pentak, Pentak/Roth,
human made objects, and nature. From these sources ideas are Design Basics, 8e Design Basics: 3D Color Basics
extrapolated for application with a primarily two-dimensional 978-0-495-91577-5 978-0-495-91578-2 978-0-534-61389-1
emphasis. It is fair to say that design and composition are
nearly interchangeable terms in this case. When we talk of a
painting’s design we are talking about composition. Similarly,
when we compose, we design.
Entering into a discussion of the three-dimensional realm
is by its very nature a move from the abstract, the cerebral,
and the optical into the world of objects, spaces, materials,
and the tactile. So, then the “3D” text makes a leap into the
physical world we occupy and with that the messiness of
materials and processes involved in making things. RESOURCES
A wise guy (probably a painter) once said that “sculpture
is something you back into while looking at a painting.” Art CourseMate brings design concepts to life with interactive
This crack is a low brow version of the old duality that sets learning, study tools, and an ebook. The interactive ebook allows
intellect or imagination against craft or process. We think students to take notes, highlight, and search, and links directly
you will discover in this expanded offering of Design Basics a to the interactive foundations tutorials for review.
synthesis of these imagined polarities. The creative nature of
art and design requires a “both/and” view of the world in place
of an “either/or” world view.
Josef Albers once said that for the artist, one plus one
creates something greater than two. We hope you find that
phenomenon in the joint edition of these two texts.
Stephen Pentak
Professor Emeritus, The Ohio State University
Richard Roth ArtStudio provides a secure, password-protected online image

Professor, Virginia Commonwealth University and video upload and grading program that enables you to
critique students’ assignments as well as facilitating student
peer-review, allowing students to see and respond to the work of
others in an interactive, non-judgmental environment. ArtStudio
includes pre-built assignments and grading rubrics in core topic
areas, which you can choose to use or modify—or, you can build
entirely new assignments.
PART
1 DESIGN PRINCIPLES
CHAPTER 1 DESIGN PROCESS 2
CHAPTER 2 UNITY 26
CHAPTER 3 EMPHASIS AND FOCAL POINT 54
CHAPTER 4 SCALE AND PROPORTION 68
CHAPTER 5 BALANCE 86
CHAPTER 6 RHYTHM 110
Bruce Eric Kaplan
The Cartoon Bank: A New Yorker Magazine Company
CHAPTER
1 DESIGN PROCESS
INTRODUCTION LOOKING
Design Defined 4 Sources: Artifacts 16
PROCEDURES LOOKING
Steps in the Process 6 Sources: History and Culture 18
THINKING DOING
Getting Started 8 Thinking with Materials 20
THINKING DOING
Form and Content 10 Doing and Redoing 22
THINKING CRITIQUE
Form and Function 12 Constructive Criticism 24
LOOKING
Sources: Nature 14
3
INTRODUCTION
DESIGN DEFINED Visual Organization

What do you think of when you hear the word design? Do you Design is essentially the opposite of chance. In ordinary conver-
associate design with fashion, graphics, furniture, or automotive sation, when we say “it happened by design,” we mean some-
style? Design has a more universal meaning than the commercial thing was planned—it did not occur just by accident. People in
applications that might first come to mind. A dictionary defini- all occupations plan, but the artist or designer plans the arrange-
tion uses the synonym plan: To design indeed means to plan, ment of elements to form a visual pattern. Depending on the
to organize. Design is inherent in the full range of art disciplines field, these elements will vary—from painted symbols to written
from painting and drawing to sculpture, photography, and time- words to scenic flats to bowls to furniture to windows and doors.
based media such as film, video, computer graphics, and anima- But the result is always a visual organization. Art, like other
tion. It is integral to crafts such as ceramics, textiles, and glass. careers and occupations, is concerned with seeking answers to
Architecture, landscape architecture, and urban planning all problems. Art, however, seeks visual solutions in what is often
apply visual design principles. The list could go on. Virtually the called the design process.
entire realm of two- and three-dimensional human production The poster shown in A is an excellent example of a visual
involves design, whether consciously applied, well executed, or solution. How the letters are arranged is an essential part of
ill considered. communicating the idea. Two other posters offer a comparison
G A
John Kuchera. It’s Time to Get Organized. 1986. Poster. Art
Director and Designer, Hutchins/Y&R.
A B
Steve Mehalo. Make Jobs Not War. Poster design. Copyright: free art
for public use.
CHAPTER 1 DESIGN PROCESS | 5
and contrast of how text can be organized to create a visual should be aware. Thus, guidelines (not rules) exist that usually
message from what could be a merely verbal message. Make will assist in the creation of successful designs. These guidelines
Jobs Not War (B) is composed to communicate a simple and certainly do not mean the artist is limited to any specific solution.
unambiguous statement. “War” is given a special focus through
the color red, but the message is primarily verbal, not visual. In Form and Content Defined
C red is again used for emphasis, but in this case the design of Discussions of art often distinguish between two aspects, form
the text is more critical to the creation of a visual statement. The and content. Form is the purely visual aspect, the manipulation
red that brings forward the word “war” from the text “what is it of the various elements and principles of design. Content implies
good for?” appears to have been crudely brushed on with drips the subject matter, story, or information that the artwork seeks to
and rough edges accentuating a violent urgency. This stands in communicate to the viewer. Content is what artists want to say;
contrast to the graceful formality of the text in black. This con- form is how they say it. The poster in C can be appreciated for a
trast conveys the message via a visual solution. If we recall the successful relationship between form and content.
message in C, it will be because we will recall how the elements Sometimes the aim of a work of art or design is purely aes-
are organized. thetic. Take, for example, adornment such as jewelry where the
only “problem” is one of creating visual pleasure. However, even
Creative Problem Solving art and design of a decorative nature have the potential to reveal
The arts are called creative fields because there are no prede- new ways of seeing and communicate a point of view. Art is and
termined correct answers to the problems. Infinite variations in always has been a means of visual communication.
individual interpretations and applications are possible. Prob-
lems in art vary in specifics and complexity. Independent paint-
ers or sculptors usually create their own “problems” or avenues
they wish to explore. The artist can choose as wide or narrow a
scope as he or she wishes. The architect or graphic and indus-
trial designer is usually given a problem, often with very specific
options and clearly defined limitations. Students in art classes
are often in this “problem-solving” category—they execute
a series of assignments devised by the instructor that require
rather specific solutions. However, all art or visual problems are
similar in that a creative solution is desired.
The creative aspect of art also includes the often-heard
phrase “there are no rules in art.” This is true. In solving prob-
lems visually, there is no list of strict or absolute dos and don’ts
to follow. Given the varied objectives of visual art throughout
the ages, definite laws are impossible. However, “no rules” may
seem to imply that all designs are equally valid and visually suc-
cessful. This is not true. Artistic practices and criteria have been
developed from successful works, of which an artist or designer
D C
Marty Neumeier. War: What is it Good For? Poster design.
PROCEDURES
STEPS IN THE PROCESS

We have all heard the cliché “a picture is worth a thousand Countless pictures demonstrate that words are not neces-
words.” This is true. There is no way to calculate how much sary for communication. We can see that in two examples that
each of us has learned through pictures. Communication has suggest the idea of balance. In the photograph Balanced Rock
always been an essential role for art. Indeed, before letters were (B) no words are needed to communicate the idea. In C we read
invented, written communication consisted of simple pictorial the word, but the concept is conveyed visually. The uppercase
symbols. Today, pictures can function as a sort of international E provides a visual balance to the capital B, and the dropped A
language. A picture can be understood when written words may is used as a visual fulcrum. As in A the concept comes across
be unintelligible to the foreigner or the illiterate. We do not need independent of language.
to understand German to grasp immediately that the message of So we are led to wonder how these artists arrived at their
the poster in A is pain, suffering, and torture. conclusions. Both B and C are good ideas, but how were they
generated? We can appreciate that the process of trial and error
Art as Communication would differ between working with rocks and text! Examples on
In art, as in communication, the artist or designer is saying the coming pages will demystify the work behind the results we
something to the viewer. Here the successful solution not only is admire in accomplished artworks.
visually compelling but also communicates an idea. Any of the
elements of art can be used in communication. Purely abstract The Creative Process
lines, color, and shapes can very effectively express ideas or feel- These successful design solutions are due, of course, to good
ings. Many times communication is achieved through symbols, ideas. Students often wonder, “How do I get an idea?” Almost
pictorial images that suggest to the viewer the theme or message. everyone shares this dilemma from time to time. Even the profes-
The ingenuity of creative imagination exercised in selecting these sional artist can stare at an empty canvas, the successful writer at
images can be important in the finished work’s success. a blank page. An idea in art can take many forms, varying from a
specific visual effect to an intellectual communication of a definite
message. Ideas encompass both content and form.
J A
Stop Torture. 1985. Poster for Amnesty International.
It is doubtful that anyone can truly explain why or how an Thinking

answer to something we’ve been puzzling over appears out of Looking
the blue. Our ideas can occur when we are in the shower, mow- Doing
ing the lawn, or in countless other seemingly unlikely situations.
But we need not be concerned here with sudden solutions. They These activities are not sequential steps and certainly are not
will continue to occur, but what happens when we have a dead- independent procedures. They overlap and may be performed
line? What can we consciously do to stimulate the creative pro- almost simultaneously or by jumping back and forth from one
cess? What sort of activities can promote the likelihood that a to another. One thing is certain however: a moment of sudden
solution to a problem will present itself? insight (like the idea in the shower) rarely occurs without an invest-
The media and the message can vary dramatically, but a ment of energy into the problem. Louis Pasteur said that “chance
process of development can transcend the differences. We sug- favors the prepared mind,” and the painter Chuck Close tells it like
gest three very simple activities with very simple names: it is: “Inspiration is for amateurs. The rest of us get to work.”
J B
Andy Goldsworthy. Balanced Rock
(Misty, Langdale, Cumbria, May
1977). Andy Goldsworthy: A Collabora-
tion with Nature.
D C
The layout of the letters matches the word’s
meaning to convey the idea.
THINKING
GETTING STARTED
The well-known French artist Georges Braque wrote in his
Cahiers (notebooks) that “one must not think up a picture.” His
point is valid; a painting is often a long process that should not
be forced or created by formulas to order. However, each day
countless designers must indeed “think up” solutions to design
problems. Thinking is an essential part of this solution. When
confronted by a problem in any aspect of life, the usual first step
is to think about it.
Thinking is applicable also to art and visual problems. It is
involved in all aspects of the creative process. Every step in cre-
ating a design involves choices, and the selections are deter-
mined by thinking. Chance or accident is also an element in art.
But art cannot be created mindlessly, although some art move-
ments have attempted to eliminate rational thought as a factor
in creating art and to stress intuitive or subconscious thought.
Even then it is thinking that decides whether the spontaneously
created result is worthwhile or acceptable. To say that thinking is
somehow outside the artistic process is truly illogical.
A B
“Having a talent isn’t worth much unless you know what to do with
it.” Poster for the School of Visual Arts. 1978.
J A
Claes Oldenburg. Proposal for a Colossal Monument in Downtown New York City: Sharpened
Pencil Stub with Broken-off Tip of the Woolworth Building. 1993. Etching with aquatint,
2' 81⁄2" × 1' 10". Collection of Claes Oldenberg and Coosje van Bruggen.
Thinking about the Problem Thinking about the Solution

Knowing what you are doing must precede your doing it. So Thinking can be especially important in art that has a specific
thinking starts with understanding the problem at hand: theme or message. How can the concept be communicated in
visual terms? A first step is to think logically of which images or
Precisely what is to be achieved? (What specific visual or pictures could represent this theme and to list them or, better
intellectual effect is desired?) yet, sketch them quickly, because a visual answer is what you’re
Are there visual stylistic requirements (illustrative, abstract, seeking. Let’s take a specific example: What could visually rep-
nonobjective, and so on)? resent the idea of art or design? Some obvious symbols appear
What physical limitations (size, color, media, and so on) are in the designs on these pages, and you will easily think of more.
imposed? You might expand the idea by discussing it with others. They
When is the solution needed? may offer suggestions you have not considered. Professional
designers often consult reports from market surveys that reveal
These questions may all seem self-evident, but effort spent the ideas of vast numbers of people.
on solutions outside the range of these specifications will not Sketch your ideas to see immediately the visual potential.
be productive. So-called failures can occur simply because the At this point you do not necessarily decide on one idea. But it’s
problem was not fully understood at the very beginning. better to narrow a broad list to a few ideas worthy of develop-
ment. Choosing a visual image is only the first step. How will
you use your choice? Three examples shown here all start with a
pencil, but take that to unique and memorable conclusions:
A fragment of a pencil becomes the subject of a monumen-

tal sculpture. (A)
Wasted talent is symbolized by a distorted and useless
G C pencil. (B)
Tom Friedman. Untitled. 1992. Pencil shaving, 1' 111⁄2" × 11⁄2" × 11⁄2", A carefully sharpened pencil becomes a spiraling ribbon
from an edition of two.
demonstrating art’s ability to transform our understand-
ing of form. (C)
These designs are imaginative and eye-catching. The image

was just the first step. How that image or form was used pro-
vided the unique and successful solution.
Thinking about the Audience

Selecting a particular symbol may depend on limitations of
size, medium, color, and so on. Even thinking of future view-
ers may provide an influence. To whom is this visual message
addressed? An enormous pencil fragment as a piece of sculp-
ture might serve as a monument to the legions of “pencil push-
ers” in an office complex. The same sculpture located at an art
school could pay tribute to the humblest of art-making tools.
The ribbon of pencil shaving (C) may not engage an audience as
a symbol so much as a simple but extraordinary fact.
THINKING
FORM AND CONTENT Selecting Form

What will be presented, and how will it be presented? The think- The form an artist or designer selects is brought to an elemental
ing stage of the design process is often a contest to define this simplicity in the challenge of designing icons or pictograms
relationship of form and content. The contest may play itself out for signs, buttons, and web or desktop applications. For these
in additions and subtractions as a painting is revised or in the purposes the image must be as simple and unambiguous as
drafts and sketches of an evolving design concept. The solution possible. The examples shown in C communicate a number of
may be found intuitively or may be influenced by cultural values, activities associated with a picnic area in a park and do so in
previous art, or the expectations of clients. a playful manner. Beneath the fun appearance though we can
recognize that simple shapes such as circles and ovals predomi-
Selecting Content nate, and that the number of elements are as few as possible to
Raymond Loewy’s revised logo for the Greyhound Bus Com- communicate with an image and no text.
pany is an example of content being clearly communicated by
the appropriate image or form. The existing logo in 1933 (A)
looked fat to Loewy, and the chief executive at Greyhound
agreed. His revised version (B) (based on a thoroughbred
greyhound) conveys the concept of speed, and the company
adopted the new logo.
A A
Raymond Loewy. Original logo for Greyhound Bus Co.
A B
Raymond Loewy. Redesigned logo, 1933.
Form and content issues would certainly be easier to sum-

marize in a monocultural society. Specific symbols may lose
meaning when they cross national, ethnic, or religious bor-
ders. The Navigational Chart from the Marshall Islands shown
in D communicated currents and navigational landmarks to the
island people who knew how to read this. For the rest of us it is
a mysterious web of bamboo lines and shells marking a number
of points. We may infer a meaning from an impression that the
construction is not an arbitrary arrangement, but without more
information the visual clues would not communicate to us. We
can only guess how successfully the signs in C would communi-
cate to the islanders who used the navigational map.
Given these obstacles to understanding, it is a powerful
testimony to the meaning inherent in form when artworks do
communicate successfully across time and distance. Raymond
Loewy’s design solution conveys speed and grace with an image
that can be understood by many generations and many cultures.
A C
Chris Rooney. Picnic Icons. From Blackcoffee Design Inc., editor, 1,000
Icons, Symbols, and Pictograms: Visual Communication for Every Language (1000
Series) (Beverly, Mass.: Rockport Publishers, 2009).
D D
Navigational Chart. Micronesian, Marshall Islands, Late 19th–early
20th century. Findspot: Marshall Islands. Bamboo, cowrie shells, and
twine, 66 × 63 cm (2' 2" × 2' 13⁄16"). Chart consisting of thin bamboo
rods, tied together into roughly square form, with diagonally-oriented
elements and cowrie shells at some intersections. The bamboo ele-
ments represent currents; the cowries represent land masses. On
view in the Richard B. Carter Gallery (Oceanic Art), Museum of Fine
Arts, Boston. Gift of Governor Carlton Skinner and Solange Skinner,
2002.
THINKING
FORM AND FUNCTION

The seaplane shown in A shares a similarity of form to the design. All the furnishings are functional and free from extrane-
whale shown in B. We can probably assume that the designers ous decoration. The ladder back of the chair exhibits a second
of the seaplane did not copy the form of this whale; however, utility when the chair is hung on the wall. Everything in this space
both the plane and whale are streamlined for easy movement communicates the Shaker value of simplicity.
through the water. In each case the form follows function. The meandering bookshelf and curved furniture shown in
When we say that form follows function, we say that pur- D are also functional but in a playful and surprising way. The
pose defines the look and shape of an object, and that efficiency forms are not dictated by a strict form-follows-function design
is obvious. This relationship is often easiest to see and acknowl- approach. The design solution is simple but the forms express a
edge in utilitarian design, such as the furniture design of the sense of visual delight and humor as well. This may seem whim-
American Shaker movement. The interior presented in C reveals sical in contrast to the austerity of Shaker design but in fact both
a simple, straightforward attitude toward furniture and space offer a satisfying economy and unadorned clarity.
G A
Grumman HU–16 Albatross, post-WWII “utility and rescue amphibian.” Bill Gunston, consultant editor,
The Encyclopedia of World Air Power (London: Aerospace Publishing Limited, 1980), p. 165.
A B
Pygmy Right Whale (Caperea marginata), Southern Hemisphere, 18'–211⁄2' (5.5–6.5 m). From Mark Cawardine and
Martin Camm, Whales, Dolphins, and Porpoises (London: Dorling Kindersley, 1995), p. 48.
A C
Shaker interior. Reproduced by permission of the American Museum in Britain, Bath, U.K. ©
A D
Ron Arad. "Restless" Exhibition. The Barbican Centre, London, England.
LOOKING
SOURCES: NATURE Source versus Subject

Looking is probably the primary education of any artist. This pro- Sources in nature are clearly identifiable in the works of some
cess includes studying both the natural world and human arti- artists, while less obvious in the works of others—perhaps
facts. Observing nature reveals the elegant adaptations of plants revealed only when we see drawings or preparatory work. In any
and animals to their environment. The structures of nature, from case a distinction should be made between source and sub-
beehives to birds’ wings, offer models for efficient design and ject. The source is a stimulus for an image or idea. For example,
beautiful art. Arthur Dove’s oil painting (A) is titled Tree Composition, but the
source of this image is significantly abstracted and the subject
of the painting is apparently a spiral form and energy that Dove
saw in the tree.
J A
Arthur Dove. Tree Composition. 1937. Oil on canvas,
1' 31⁄4" x 1' 9". Edward W. Root Bequest (57.136).
Munson-Williams-Proctor Arts Institute, Utica, New York.
D B
Georgia O’Keeffe. Shell No. 1. 1928. Oil on canvas, overall: 17.8 ×
17.8 cm (7" × 7"), framed: 20.3 × 20.3 × 3.3 cm (8" × 8" × 15⁄16").
J C
Leonardo da Vinci. Studies of Flowers. c.1509–1511.
Drawings, Watercolours and Prints. The Royal
Collection. London.
D D
Leonardo da Vinci. Study of Flowing Water. c. 1509–1511. The Royal Col-
lection, London.
Georgia O’Keefe’s painting of a shell (B) is a more realistic

depiction of its source or model in the natural world, but clearly
she too was interested in the spiral, and in this way her painting
has a kinship to that of Arthur Dove (her friend and colleague).
The two sketchbook drawings by Leonardo (C and D) show
how the artist found similar spiral patterns in the way a plant
grows and the turbulence of water. Drawing is an artist’s means
for active looking and learning from the natural world. Leonardo
drew upon these observations in both his paintings and machine
designs. The plant appears in the painting Virgin of the Rocks,
and the study of water turbulence was relevant to his ideas
on bridge design. For Leonardo “design” was relevant to both
painting and engineering.
LOOKING
SOURCES: ARTIFACTS
We expect artists and designers to be visually sensitive people and light and surprising arrangements of rectangles and stripes
who see things in the world that others might overlook and who that challenge him to compose subtle but complex composi-
look with special interest at the history of art and design. Study- tions . . . inspired from a seemingly neutral or ordinary source.
ing art, architecture, craft, and design from all periods, regions, This process of looking is extended in the photograph by a
and cultures introduces you to a wealth of visual creations, bet- Dartmouth College student shown in B. This photo is a response
ter equipping you to discover your own solutions. to Scully’s paintings and is one of a series of “stripes” found in
The painter Sean Scully has long been interested in the the campus environment.
arrangements of walls and windows and the light that falls on For better or worse we do not create our design solutions
these surfaces. In fact, he often photographs these subjects. in an information vacuum. We have the benefit of an abundance
This informs our understanding of the installation of his paintings of visual information coming at us through various media, from
shown in A. What is Scully looking at when he looks at these books to television, websites, and films. On the plus side, we are
architectural structures? Evidently he sees a rich world of color treated to images one would previously have had to travel to see.
A A
Sean Scully. Installation View. Hood Museum,
Dartmouth College, New Hampshire.
D B
Dartmouth College student Lauren Orr. 2008. Hood
Museum, Dartmouth College, New Hampshire.
On the minus side, it is easy to overlook that we are often seeing a Nancy Crow is an artist who mines a rich treasure of cultural
limited (or altered) aspect of the original artwork in a reproduction. influences and creates unique works that are not simply copies
The influence of reproduced images is enriching but potentially gleaned from other cultures. Her travels and research connect
superficial. Artists and designers will often travel and study influ- her work to artifacts such as Mexican masks (C). The impact can
ences firsthand for a deeper understanding of their influences. be seen in her quilt shown in D.
J C
Nancy Crow. Mexican Tiger Masks. From the
Collection of Nancy Crow.
D D
Nancy Crow. Mexican Wheels II. 1988. Quilt,
7' 6" × 7' 6". From the Collection of
Nancy Crow.
LOOKING
J A
Jean-Léon Gérôme. The Duel after the
Masquerade. 1857–1859. Oil on canvas,
1' 33⁄8" × 1' 103⁄16" (39.1 × 56.3 cm).
SOURCES: HISTORY AND CULTURE

Visual Training and Retraining
The art of looking is not entirely innocent. Long before the train-
ing in seeing we get in art and design classes, we are trained
by our exposure to mass media. Television, film, Internet, and
print images provide examples that can influence our self-image
and our personal relationships. The distinction between “news”
and “docudrama” is often a blurry one, and viewers are often
absorbed into the “reality” of a movie.
At times it seems that visual training demands a retraining
of looking on slower, more conscious terms. “Look again” and
“see the relationships” are often heard in a beginning drawing
class. Part of this looking process involves examining works of
art and considering the images of mass media that shape our
culture. Many artists actively address these issues in their art by
using familiar images or “quoting” past artworks. Although this
may seem like an esoteric exercise to the beginning student,
an awareness of the power of familiar images is fundamental to
understanding visual communication.
D B
Pablo Picasso. Harlequin. Paris, late 1915. Oil on canvas, 6' 1⁄4" × 3' 53⁄8"
(183.5 × 105.1 cm).
Two paintings separated by a century in time have a com-

mon “character” in the Harlequin. The Harlequin pattern can
be seen in both A and B, but the visual language of these two
paintings is in stark contrast. Picasso references earlier artwork
even as he constructs a radically different composition. We will
engage both of these images throughout the chapters of this
book as we compare and contrast their attributes.
Certain so-called high art images manage to become com-
monly known, or vernacular, through frequent reproduction. In
the case of a painting like Washington Crossing the Delaware,
the image is almost as universally recognized as a religious icon
once was. There is a long tradition of artists paying homage to
the masters, and we can understand how an artist might study
this or other paintings in an attempt to learn techniques. How-
ever, George Washington Carver Crossing the Delaware (C), by
the African American artist Robert Colescott, strikes a differ-
ent relationship to the well-known painting we recognize as a
source. Colescott plays with the familiarity of this patriotic image A C
and startles us with a presentation of negative black stereo- Robert Colescott. George Washington Carver Crossing the Delaware. 1975.
types. One American stereotype is laid on top of another, leading Acrylic on canvas, 4' 6" × 9'. Phyllis Kind Gallery, New York.
the viewer to confront preconceptions about both.
In contrast to the previous fine art examples, the example
shown in D comes from the world of commercial art. The evolv- Looking is a complex blend of conscious searching and
ing image of “Betty Crocker” reveals how this icon was visual- visual recollections. This searching includes looking at art,
ized at different times. This then reflects where the illustrator nature, and the vernacular images from the world around us, as
looked for a visual model of “American female.” Looking, then, well as doing formal research into new or unfamiliar subjects.
can be influenced by commercial and societal forces, which are What we hope to find are the elements that shape our own visual
as real an aspect of our lives as the elements of nature. language.
1936 1955 1965 1968
J D
Betty Crocker through the years.
1972 1980 1986 1996 Courtesy General Mills (Canada).
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these within my call now, who are ready to swear to the people of
Kamt that, though sick, the Pharaoh lives.… And the people of Kamt,
who left their rejoicings in answer to the wild shrieks of a woman, will
return to their homes, their dancing and their music, with a puzzled
and perhaps sad shake of the head, saying, ‘Princess Neit-akrit, of
the house of Usem-ra, the beautiful, is no longer pure; madness has
caused her tongue to lie, at the very foot of the throne of Isis,
desecrating the temple of the goddess.’ And some, no doubt, with a
shrug will add: ‘Madness which cometh of love for the stranger,
unhappy love for him who will have none of her, since he will wed
Maat-kha, anon.’ ”
“Hold thy peace, Ur-tasen. I forbid thee to speak of these things.”
“Nay! I will not hold my peace, Neit-akrit, Princess of Kamt, thou
who didst dare say that thou wouldst defy me! Didst think that it were
so easy to circumvent the plans of Ur-tasen, the high priest of Ra?
Didst think I should allow thy girlish sentiments to upset what I have
thought and dreamed of ever since the stranger has usurped my
power? Go and strike the metal gong, Neit-akrit, go and summon the
people of Tanis. Derision and contempt await thee, and thou wilt not
help the stranger withal.”
Then, as she did not reply, but stood like an image of deep
thought, with her golden head bent, he added:
“Hadst thou reflected, when thou didst venture to threaten and
upbraid me, that thou wast within the precincts of a temple of Kamt,
that in every nook, every corner of the gigantic building, the priests of
Isis, and those of Ra, those of Horus and those of Osiris, are there
lurking ready to answer the high priest’s beck and call? Go up the
steps, Neit-akrit, which lead to the ponderous gong, take the mighty
clapper in both thy hands, and I tell thee that before metal touches
metal thou and thy soul will have fled to a land whence thou canst
not return to thwart the will of the high priest of Ra, and a memory of
something young and beautiful, the remembrance of a lock of golden
hair, will be all that will remain in the land of Neit-akrit, Princess of
Kamt.”
I was glad that he had chosen to give this timely warning to the
Princess, for I personally had been ready to shout to her, signifying
my presence, and trusting to her wit and power to get me out of my
difficult position. The mention of a host of shaven priests, hidden I
knew not where, threw cold water upon my ardour, and I gnashed
my teeth lest my British temper should get the better of me, and lest
through the bars of my prison I should be impelled to hurl an
ineffectual, if to me convincing, malediction against the unscrupulous
and treacherous blackguard who was hemming us in all round.
“It was because I knew this, Ur-tasen, that I did not shout to the
people of Kamt the moment I saw the murderous deed and realised
the blackness of thy treachery,” said Neit-akrit, quietly. “I did not see
the Pharaoh die. I came into the temple alone at the very moment
when his body, after a final convulsion, rolled rigid upon the floor.
Then I caught sight of thee; the flickering light of the lamp illumined
thy face, and I knew that thy thoughts were evil. Silently I waited and
listened; heard of thy villainy and Maat-kha’s weakness, and trusted
to the gods to give power to my words, to turn thee from the dark
path, before it be too late.”
I thought that she looked round her as if realising for the first time
the loneliness of her position. Certainly these last few words showed
decided signs of coming weakness, and my awakening hopes began
to give way to a creeping feeling of disappointment. She was, of
course, entirely at the mercy of an unscrupulous and daring man,
whose sacred office gave him every power and opportunity of
suppressing, temporarily or permanently, every inconvenient enemy.
Personally, I thought that his last threat had been a bluff; he would
surely not have dared to put Princess Neit-akrit entirely out of the
way at the same time as the Pharaoh. She was the idol of the male
population of Kamt, and suspicion might perhaps fasten
uncomfortably upon the high priest and his deacons. At the same
time, undoubtedly, Neit-akrit’s life was doubly precious if she really
meant to help Hugh. The question which agitated my mind was,
Would she care to thwart the high priest, at risk of some terrible
retaliation on his part? Of course I did not understand her nature.
How could I, a prosy Britisher, read the thoughts and feelings of so
curious and ardent a temperament? Some time ago I had mistrusted
her; then, a curious jealous feeling, of which I am heartily ashamed,
made me turn against her when I saw how completely she had taken
possession of Hugh’s heart. Both these feelings had in their turn
overclouded my brain as to her real character, and I really was no
judge as to whether she hated Hugh as a usurper, or if she cared for
him. She was impulsive and capricious, sensuous and ardent, that I
knew. Perhaps it had been mere impulse which had dictated to her
to admonish, threaten and warn Ur-tasen, and to save Hugh if she
could; that impulse had perhaps died out again, and visions of the
throne rendered vacant for her by the Pharaoh’s, Maat-kha’s and
ultimately Hugh’s death, chased nobler thoughts away from her
mind. She did not speak for a long time, and Ur-tasen stood and
watched her with arms folded across his chest, his whole attitude
one of scorn and command.
“The hours slip by, Neit-akrit, on the winged feet of time,” he said
with pronounced sarcasm. “Hast forgotten that within the next two
hours the emissary of Osiris, the son of Ra, he who hath made us all
happy and rejoicing, will wed Maat-kha our Queen, the widow of Hor-
tep-ra? Hast forgotten that at the marriage ceremony, amidst all that
are there, among all those who are fair in the land, there must be
one who is fairer than all? Thy women await thee, no doubt, ready to
deck thee with the snow-white robes which befit thy beauty and thy
innocence. Nay!” he added with sudden softness, “thou art beautiful
above all the daughters of Kamt, the perfume of thy hair sends
delicious intoxication even through my shrivelled old body. Thou art
fair, so fair that I would fain see the double crown of Kamt upon thine
ardent hair. To accomplish this I plotted and I planned. Thou art a
child and dost not understand. Leave thy destiny, the destinies of
Kamt, in the hands of him whose firm will can guide them. Believe
me, if in return thou wilt but smile on him and tell him thou art
satisfied, he will be content.”
She did not reply, and he added pleadingly:
“I did it for thee, Neit-akrit! In order that I with mine own hands
might place the crown of Kamt upon thy golden hair, in order that
none should rule over thee, that thou shouldst be queen indeed, as
thou art queen only by thy beauty and by thy smiles. Tell me, art
satisfied?”
And very quietly she answered:
“I am satisfied!”
I could scarcely believe my ears. Disappointment was so
overwhelming that I almost shrieked with the agony of it. Already she
had thrown up the sponge. Ambition had quickly swept aside the
noble impulse which had made her plead for Hugh. And again Ur-
tasen was triumphant, and I, helpless, left once more, after a brief
ray of hope, in an uncertainty which was now still harder to bear.
“Before thou goest, Neit-akrit,” said Ur-tasen, “I would have thee
swear to me that neither by look nor word wilt thou betray to any one
the plans of the high priest of Ra.”
But Neit-akrit was silent; and Ur-tasen added quietly:
“Nay! perhaps thou needest not swear. An oath can so easily be
broken, in the spirit if not in the letter. I think I can trust thee best
when I say that, shouldst thou before dawn anon think of warning the
stranger of what awaits him in the nook beside the sacred cataract,
and his footsteps should not in consequence lead him thither, then,
of course, no obstacle will stand between the beloved of the gods
and Maat-kha, his bride. The priests of Isis, after the first hour of
dawn, will take the body of the holy Pharaoh back into his palace,
and swear that he died of sickness in his bed. Then the happy union
can be consummated, and thou, Neit-akrit, the defrauded Princess of
Kamt, canst in thy unselfish joy watch the happiness of Maat-kha,
the murderess, in the arms of her beloved, the son of Ra, loved of all
the gods: and I can swear to thee that he shall not know that the wife
of his bosom is the murderess of her first-born until she hath borne
him a son, the heir to all her vices. Farewell, Neit-akrit, future queen
of Kamt!”
Oh! he was a cunning brute, was old Ur-tasen: again he had put
his finger upon the most vulnerable spot in any female armour.
Death to the loved one or his happiness in another woman’s arms:
the great problem which has torn passionate women’s hearts in
every country and beneath every clime, since the world began. Oh!
that I could have read in Neit-akrit’s heart and known what she would
do! How far and in what way did she care for Hugh? The alternatives
seemed to me equally hopeless. If she had no love for him then, no
doubt, ambition would seal her lips: she would remember the throne
of Kamt, the glorious double crown, the homage of the people, and
in the pomp and glitter forget the awful doom which alone could drive
the usurping stranger from her path. But if she loved him, then
what…? then the great and subtle puzzle of the eternally feminine,
the mysterious workings of a woman’s heart, of a woman who, in
spite of the high culture, the civilisation, the artistic refinement of this
land, was pre-eminently exotic, passionate, semi-barbarous in her
love and her hate. Nay! I knew not. How could I guess how she
would act? Can man read the uncut pages of that romance of which
a woman only shows him the title leaf?
But, in the meanwhile, the dangers round my friend seemed to
close in tightly. Ur-tasen with subtle cunning had worked upon the
loves, the jealousies of the two women who alone could save him,
while I was still a caged prisoner, and the hours were swiftly
speeding on.
Neit-akrit had disappeared, and Ur-tasen alone remained, quietly
standing before the altar of the goddess, with arms outstretched,
murmuring one of his pagan prayers, but as I still continued my
weary watch, it seemed to me that newly awakened though still
hidden life began to pervade the great and mystic temple. Within the
main aisle the hanging lamps were lighted one after the other by—to
me—unseen hands, and in the distance fresh young voices were
rehearsing a bridal chant. Behind me in the outer precincts I could
hear the muffled sounds of shuffling footsteps passing swiftly to and
fro, and although from where I was I could see nothing save the
brilliantly lighted and lonely sanctuary, yet I felt that around me there
was bustle and animation: the preparations for the coming festivity.
I was carefully maturing my plans. Determined to keep well within
the shadow of my prison, I would wait quietly for the best moment in
which to attract Hugh’s attention. I was in no sense of the word
nervous or agitated; I even began to feel strangely drowsy and had
much difficulty in accomplishing my numerous yawns noiselessly.
The atmosphere became insufferably hot and heavy; clouds of
smoke from the incense and burning herbs were continually wafted
in through the window of my prison, and this no doubt was beginning
to make me stupid and sleepy.
Not knowing how time was going on, I had squatted into the angle
of the wall, with my knees drawn up to my chin, in an irresistible
desire for sleep.
Suddenly I heard heavy footsteps outside, slow and halting; trying
to shake off my drowsiness, I raised my head and listened. Through
the marble tracery of the gateway I could see the vague forms of a
group of men, who seemed to be carrying something heavy between
them. A great cloud of some peculiarly scented burning herb came in
a great wave right through the window and seemed literally to strike
me in the face, blinding me and making me gasp for breath.
Drowsiness became intolerable, and yet when I sleepily reopened
my eyes I saw the gigantic marble gateway slowly moving on its
hinges.… This sight roused me from my lethargy for the moment.…
My senses fully alive, I watched and waited.… It was pitch dark in
the farther end of my cell, but I heard the footsteps within three feet
of me, still shuffling and halting.… Through the open gateway the
shadows appeared less dense: noiselessly on my hands and knees,
keeping my shoulder close to the wall, I crawled towards the
opening.
The men had put their heavy burden on the floor: they did not
speak, hardly did I hear them breathing. My fear was lest they should
detect me before I had reached the gate, but they seemed not to
have noticed me, and now, one by one, they turned and filed out. I
was close to the opening, leaning against the wall, ready to crawl out
in the last man’s wake.… From the inside of my prison the same
unknown scent of some highly aromatic herb was wafted in great
clouds towards my nostrils… the fumes were overpowering, and I
was tired and sleepy from my long, anxious wait.… The men had all
slipped noiselessly through the opening… the cloak of the last one
had caught in a projecting bit of carving… he stooped quietly to
disentangle it… I could see his outline very clearly against the lighted
corridor beyond.… My lids fell heavily over my eyes… I tried to
shake off my torpor, for the last effort for freedom… but I was too
sleepy.… I could not move. A great whiff of that enervating, burning
herb made me long for rest and sleep!… I was too tired… I would
slip out by-and-by.… Now I must have sleep.
The man with the cloak had slipped out… I think the gate swung
to, and I crouched once more with my chin between my knees.… I
wondered what the herb was.… I must find out… it would do instead
of ether in cases of minor operations… it was sweet and pleasant,
but overpowering.
From the sanctuary a sudden brilliant ray of light struck for an
instant through the aperture… some one must have gone past
carrying a lamp or torch. It lit up the centre of my prison, and forced
me to open my eyes for a second.… During that second I saw that,
on the floor, sharing my captivity with me, was the body of the
murdered Pharaoh.…
Then I remember nothing more.…
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE MARRIAGE
“And thou, oh, stranger, who dost hail from the foot of the throne of
Osiris, who art the son of Ra, the emissary of Horus, the beloved of
all the gods, tell Isis, the mysterious goddess, why thou art here.”
“I am here to crave of Isis the pure, Isis the beloved, Isis the most
holy, that she deign to pour the fruits of her blessing upon me, for I
would take this woman to be my wife.”
It was Hugh’s voice which spoke slowly and solemnly, and which
was the first sound that penetrated to my brain, still wandering in the
realms of cloud-land.
Through the window of my prison an intense flood of light filtered
brilliantly, illuminating the granite floor and walls. A strong scent of
incense and myrrh had driven away the stupefying fumes of that
burning herb which had lulled me to sleep. I tried to collect my
scattered senses, but a terrible pain in my head and eyes still kept
me half-stupefied. And yet I heard Hugh’s voice speaking strange
and momentous words, and a dull instinct whispered to me that I
must get to him, somehow, for a reason, of which I was not as yet
fully conscious. A raging thirst had made my tongue swell and
parched my throat: the events of the last few hours danced before
my clouded brain like some weird phantasmagoria.
The Pharaoh… dead! murdered! his body lying close to me, when
last I had opened my eyes, but now, carried away, while I had been
asleep… Maat-kha!… the murderess!… Hugh’s promised bride! Ur-
tasen, the evil plotter!… who had done… I knew not what…
something that would wreck Hugh’s life as well as his honour.… Neit-
akrit!… who might be a friend, and yet was a foe!… and I… a
helpless prisoner, stupid, senseless, half-drowsy still, after a drugged
and heavy sleep!
“And thou, Maat-kha, who art daughter of Uah-ab-ra, the son of
Ach-mes, the son of Ne-ku, tell Isis, the mysterious goddess, why
thou art here.”
I did not know that voice, some priest probably… no concern of
mine… I could perhaps get another half-hour’s sleep… I was still so
tired.
“I came here to crave of Isis the pure, Isis the beloved, Isis the
most holy, that she deign to pour upon me the fruits of her blessing,
for I would swear fealty to this man, and be his wife.”
That was Queen Maat-kha’s voice, and just now I had heard that
of Hugh… the pain in my head was intolerable… my limbs felt weak
and stiff: there was the whole length of my prison between me and
the aperture, through which probably I should be able to see those
who had spoken. I began to drag myself along, but I was only half
awake, my limbs only just managed to bear me along, and I did not
know if I should ever reach that aperture.
“Art awake, oh, Isis, who art daughter of Ra?
“Art awake, oh, Isis, who art sister and bride of Osiris?
“Art awake, oh, Isis, who art mother of Horus?
“Oh, Isis, give life to this man and to this woman, who have sought
the sanctity of thy temple!
“The gods above do rejoice! the glorious company is full of joy,
giving praise to thee, oh, Isis, who art pure!
“Isis who art beloved!
“Isis who art most holy!”
I had at last, after terrible difficulties, succeeded in reaching the
window; with infinite pain I struggled to my feet, but I could not stand:
my head was heavy and my knees shook under me. Twice I fell
down, but at the third struggle my hands convulsively fastened on
the marble ledge, and steadying myself as best I could, I looked out,
dazed, before me.
The sanctuary and the temple beyond it were one dazzling mass
of lighted lamps and torches. The gossamer curtain had been drawn
aside, and I could see the interminable vista of snow-white columns,
on which the silver inlay glistened with a thousand sparks. Between
the pillars, a sea of dark heads, adorned with gaily-coloured caps
and kerchiefs, amongst which, occasionally, I caught sight of the
glitter of a golden uræus, or elaborately jewelled belt.… I could
distinguish no details: my eyes were blurred, my brain overclouded. I
remember that gorgeous picture only as one remembers a dream.
Immediately before me Isis towered, wrapped in her sacred
mantle, which hand of man has never dared to touch. On her head a
gigantic pair of snow-white horns, between which glittered the silver
disc of a huge full moon. Immediately at her feet a group of priests,
with shaven crowns and long flowing robes of white, stood in a semi-
circle, in the middle of which the high-priest of the goddess stood
with arms outstretched, reciting the invocations.
Beneath the many hanging lamps, wherein burned lights of
different colours, the other priests of the gods of Kamt were massed
in imposing groups: the priests of Ra with yellow robes and leopard
skins round their bodies: those of Phtah, with monstrous scarabæus
of iridescent blue and green enamel on the top of their heads: those
of Thot, with masks of apes entirely covering their faces, and those
of Hor, with masks of sparrow-hawks, while the jackal’s head hid the
features of the priests of Anubis. Immediately to the right of the
officiating high priests stood Ur-tasen, the high priest of Ra.
“Isis is strong!
“Isis is great!
“Isis is living and mighty!”
The various attributes of the goddess reached my dull ears only as
the sound of muffled drums.
At the foot of the sanctuary steps, against a background of men
and women in gorgeous raiments, and beneath a canopy of white
lilies, stood Hugh Tankerville and his promised wife. His face was
even paler than when I had seen it last: his eyes gleamed darkly and
with an unnatural fire. He held his arms tightly crossed over his
chest, and in his whole attitude there was the expression of an
indomitable will triumphing over an overwhelming passion.
I saw him, as I had seen the sanctuary, the goddess, the crowds of
people, only as one sees a vivid dream. It seemed to me as if he
were not really there, but that slowly, very slowly, I was waking from
that sleep which had held me enthralled for months, and that when I
was fully awake I should look round me, and see myself sitting in the
dear old Museum, at The Chestnuts, with Mr. Tankerville sitting
beside me, telling me of beautiful, mysterious, legendary Neit-akrit.
I tried to speak to Hugh, for he was not far from me, but my tongue
seemed rooted to my palate, and, as in a dream, not a sound
escaped my throat. Clouds of incense rose all around, and when the
high priest had ceased to laud the magnificence of his goddess, the
priestesses, clad all in white, with their huge, disfiguring wigs over
their heads, began a sweet and monotonous chant, accompanying
themselves upon their crescent-shaped harps, and beating upon the
sistrum and the drum.
Beside Hugh, underneath that same canopy of lilies, and with her
hand holding his, was Queen Maat-kha. She had discarded her
gorgeous funereal draperies, and was standing clad all in white, her
regal crown over her low, square brow, her great black tresses
descending each side of her pale face, almost to her knees, and
intertwined with ropes of pearls. And I, in my dream, thought that I
could see, clinging to her finger tips, the last drops of her murdered
son’s blood.
Again I tried to scream, but my throat seemed paralysed.
Gradually memory, as a vague, still indistinct shadow, began to
creep back into my mind. Hugh was before me clad in sumptuous
robes, his dark head uncovered, his tall figure erect, ready to plight
his troth, to pledge that word, which he worshipped as a divinity, to
the vile murderess by his side. Twice a murderess, since having
slain her son she would ruthlessly sacrifice her lover to save herself
from the tortures of jealousy. Yes, I did remember! It was imperative
that I should warn Hugh of some terrible danger which the woman
beside him and the high priest of Ra had placed across his path.
“Oh, thou who art beloved of the gods, and thou who art Queen of
Kamt, behold! Isis the goddess is awakened!
“Ra, all-creating, all-powerful and mighty, doth descend to earth!
“Phtah, the mysterious, and Osiris, the bounty-giver, do hover
invisibly over your heads!
“But Hapi, who proceedeth from Ra, who, in his divine person, is
the living representative of Isis, of Osiris, and of Phtah, Hapi himself
will pass before your eyes!
“With the finger of your right hand ye may touch the sacred star
upon his brow!
“With both your eyes ye may gaze upon him!
“But, ye all, children of Kamt! veil ye your countenance! the god
will pass amongst you, and the sight of him gives blindness to those
who are not wholly pure!”
A terrific cloud of incense rose from every corner of the edifice.
Hugh and the Queen mounted two of the steps which led up to the
sanctuary, and behind them the silver tissue of the veil fell together
with a prolonged and softly sighing sound. Immediately underneath
the window where I was a bowl full of incense must have been
burning, for a cloud rose like a curtain between me and the
sanctuary. Through it I could see Hugh, not twenty yards away from
me, and I tried to scream… and my throat was absolutely paralysed.
Now, there was great tramping of feet, and opposite to me a
brilliant cortège came slowly towards the bridal pair. Adorned with
bunches of gardenias and tuberoses, but with heavy chains round
his feet and head, a gigantic ox was being dragged along. He was
black, save for a white spot upon his forehead, and a patch upon his
back: his horns were silvered, and he was led by ten priests of Isis,
who held him by heavy silver chains. The great beast, snorting and
puffing and evidently much annoyed at having been dragged from
his stable, allowed himself to be taken fairly peacefully along, until he
was brought to a standstill in the middle of the sanctuary,
immediately at the foot of the throne of Isis. All the priests had
prostrated themselves face downwards on the ground. Hugh and
Maat-kha alone remained standing. At a sign from the high priest
they both placed their hand upon the forehead of the beast, while the
priestesses intoned a triumphal march. Then, as stolidly as he had
come, the god Hapi retired from the gaze of his worshippers.
“Oh thou, the son of Ra! the emissary of Osiris! the beloved of the
gods! art ready to take the oath which will bind thee, thy body and
thy soul, the breath within thy body and the blood beneath thy flesh,
to the woman who is to be thy wife?”
And I, in this strange and vivid dream, which was so real, and
which I could not grasp, heard Hugh’s voice clear and distinct:
“I am ready.”
And I, his friend, his chum, his schoolfellow, I, Mark Emmett, who
would have given at any time my life for his, could not succeed in
giving one warning shout to stop this monstrous deed.
The poison—whatever it was—was still in my veins… my limbs felt
like lead… I could not keep my head erect.… I could see all, hear
every word, and smell the incense… but I could not utter a sound.
“Oh! son of Ra, beloved of the gods, at dawn when anon, Isis, the
pure, sinks fainting into the arms of Osiris, her beloved and glorious
spouse, thou wilt stand beside the sacred cataract, where since five
times a thousand years the kings of Kamt have given the first kiss to
their bride!
“Oh then! oh, son of Ra, wilt swear to give thy bride that kiss and
to take her for wife?”
“I swear!” said Hugh, earnestly.
“Oh, son of Ra, beloved of the gods, having taken unto thee a
wife, wilt swear to be true to her with thy soul and with thy body?”
“I swear!”
“Oh, son of Ra, beloved of the gods, dost swear before all men
that thou wilt be true to her, whom thou wilt take to thyself as wife?”
“I swear!”
“Wilt swear it on the names of the gods of Kamt, of Ra, of Osiris
and of Horus? of Anubis and Set? Wilt swear it upon thy manhood
and upon thy honour?”
“I swear it!”
Hugh Tankerville, calm and impassive, had pledged his honour to
be true to her who even now was plotting his death and his shame.
I seemed to remember all now as in a flash. The sight of Ur-
tasen’s face as he watched the high priest of Isis administering this
oath to my friend, for the space of a second, illumined a corner of my
dulled intellect. I saw it all with the vividness of reality: the murdered
Pharaoh lying beside the cataract; Hugh wandering unsuspectingly
thither, with the shaven priests of Isis creeping on his trail, like
jackals after their prey: then the mob yelling and cursing: Hugh,
helpless in the face of the terrible accusations; the hall of justice: the
doom from which probably even his own personality could not save
him: and all the while I tried to shriek. I opened my parched lips, and
but a few dull, guttural sounds escaped my throat, and Hugh could
not hear. He was there within a few yards of me, pledging his
manhood, his honour, to a pagan murderess, and I could do nothing,
for I was in a dream, which gripped my throat and numbed my limbs.
Once it seemed to me as if Hugh held up his head suddenly, while a
look of surprise came into his eyes: encouraged, I tried again; my
head fell back as if weighted with lead, the lids closed over my
aching eyes, the vision of the snow-white temple, the brilliant crowd,
the gorgeous and motley group of priests became more and more
dim. With a feeble effort, I tried to raise my hand, and beat childishly,
impotently, against the immovable and cold stone walls of my prison;
but even that effort proved too great: my grip on the marble relaxed,
my knees absolutely gave way under me, and stupefied, drowsy,
sleepy still under the potency of the mysterious drug, I sank again
into heavy, dreamless sleep.…
CHAPTER XXVII.
WHITE ROSEMARY
The cloud was being slowly lifted from round my brain: the dream
was gradually being dispelled; reality—terrible, appalling—forced
itself before my enfeebled mind. My head still felt like lead, my eyes
burned like pieces of charcoal in their sockets, my limbs still were
paralysed and stiff—but my brain was clear, and I remembered.
Through the window of my prison a very faint glimmer only was
creeping in from the sanctuary, throwing a dim band of light upon the
floor. In the air there hovered the heavy odour of burnt incense and
myrrh, but everything around was silent and at peace.
Had it all been a dream, or had the brilliant marriage ceremony
taken place? Had I seen Hugh standing before the altar of the
goddess swearing to wed the murderess of her son?
Slowly I raised myself upon my knees, then another mighty effort
brought me to my feet, but I could not stand alone, I had to lean
against the wall; an intolerable feeling of nausea overcame me, and I
feared that I would again lose consciousness. At last I managed to
look through the window. In strange contrast to the last picture which
I had seen, the snow-white temple of Isis now was dark and
deserted. The guests had gone, as had the priests with their
grotesque masks, the priestesses with their harps and lutes—the
canopy of lilies hung from above, but from beneath it bride and
bridegroom had disappeared. The sacred edifice with its
interminable vista of white and silver columns stretched out before
me in all its imposing and majestic vastness. Suddenly it seemed to
me that in the gloom my tired, aching eyes perceived a tall and
solitary figure leaning against one of the pillars not very far from me.
The curtain had been drawn aside to enable the lonely watcher to
see the great goddess in her sanctuary, during his long and lonely
vigil. My eyes ached and burned so I could scarcely see, and was
forced to close them from sheer pain, but tired as they were they had
not failed even in the gloom to recognise in the lonely watcher Hugh
Tankerville, my friend.
I could not see his features, for the temple itself was not lighted
up; only through the distant gateway beyond, the rays of the moon
sinking towards the west threw weird patches of blue light upon the
pillars and the floor. I tried to call to him, but the same terrible grip
seemed still to hold my throat; what poison was it, I wonder, with
which the treacherous high-priest had succeeded in silencing my
warning voice? The memory of the past few hours became
intolerable torture, the feeling of utter helplessness, coupled with the
comparative clearness of my brain, was harder to bear than the
physical ailments which still paralysed my throat and limbs.
Longingly I looked at Hugh; it seemed to me as if some subtle
magnetism in my gaze must ultimately succeed in drawing his. O
God! was I then presently destined to see him walk forth from this
accursed temple right into the hideous trap which had been set for
him? I tried to use what little power I had to make as much noise as I
could, vaguely hoping that Hugh would hear: I scratched the marble
wall with my nails, I beat it with the palm of my hand, but the temple
was very vast, my efforts weak, and Hugh did not hear. Then I tried
to stretch out my arm and perhaps wave my handkerchief through
the narrow window: I tried to fumble for it, but the effort was too
great; my arms were almost inert, and I literally could not stretch
them out far enough. Dizzy with the feeble attempt, I leaned back
against the wall tired out.
Yet the danger grew every moment more terrible. If I remained too
feeble to call out, if I could not succeed in attracting Hugh’s attention,
if I did not in fact warn him of the damnable plot that had been
hatched against him, he would presently go forth from the temple to
the sacred grove of Isis, thinking to meet his bride; there he would
find himself alone with the dead body of the Pharaoh, placed there
by Ur-tasen’s commands.
I remembered all the details of that awful, treacherous plan quite
clearly: nay, more, I saw the whole thing realised before my mind’s
eye, as clearly as if I were gazing on a picture. I could see the high
priest of Ra creeping in the wake of Hugh, I heard his hypocritical
voice loudly denouncing the man I loved best on earth, and accusing
him of the foul murder… and after that what would happen?… I
dared not think. Would the crowd who had worshipped Hugh turn
worship into execration? Would they believe that the son of Ra, he
who was beloved of the gods, was nothing but a vile criminal who
would strike a feeble enemy in the dark?
Who knows? A crowd is as wayward as a child, as fickle as the
most capricious flirt.… And I could not warn Hugh, for I was a
prisoner, and the hour of dawn was nigh.
And Neit-akrit, the beautiful Princess?… Vainly I tried to cling to
that last ray of hope. Surely a girl, so young, so beautiful, could not
allow such vile treachery to be committed against the man whom she
loved. Yes, she loved him, I knew that, I felt it: when she spoke of
him to Ur-tasen her voice almost broke in a sob. Oh! for the
knowledge of that mysterious thing called a woman’s heart! Loving
him, what would she do? Give him a word of warning ere it was too
late, thereby sending him into the arms of Maat-kha, his wife, or let
him go to disgrace and death sooner than see him happy with
another?
These thoughts chased one another in my poor aching head, until
the physical pain of it all became more than I could bear. I closed my
eyes; the sight of that great temple, of Hugh standing there, alone
and unsuspecting, was positive torture to me.
When I looked again Hugh was still there, leaning against the
pillar, but it suddenly seemed to me as if something was moving
close to him. Gradually the moving form took a more definite shape,
and in the shadow my burning eyes had recognised a quaint and
dainty outline, and an aureole of golden hair. It was she! silent,
mysterious, walking towards him with that undulating grace which
was peculiarly her own. Absorbed in thought, he evidently had not
heard the sound of her tiny bare feet upon the smooth floor. She was
wrapped in a white kalasiris, without jewels or ornaments of any
kind, and Sen-tur was not by her side.
She came quite close to him, and then he raised his head and saw
her. She looked exquisitely beautiful, graceful and tall as the white
lilies of Kamt; she placed a warning finger to her mouth, but he took
the tiny hand in both his own, and murmured, as if in a dream:
“Neit-akrit!”
“Hush!” she warned, “the very air is filled with potent dangers, and
thine enemies lurk hidden all around.”
“But thou art here,” he said. “Do not speak! stand still for a
moment, for I would look at thee! How beautiful thou art! and how thy
presence doth fill the temple of Isis with a radiance which is almost
divine!”
Obedient to his wish, she stood quite still, her dainty form against
the ghost-like whiteness of the marble pillars, on which the rapidly
sinking moon threw its last brilliant rays. Something in his look,
however, must have made her move, for she turned away.
“Dost wonder why I am here?” she asked.
“No! I hardly dare believe that thou art real, that thou art not an
enchanting dream, with which Isis thought to soothe my aching
senses. Wilt speak to me again?”
“I would tell thee why I came,” she said.
“Nay! not that,” he pleaded. “What care I, so long as thou art here,
and I can look at thee?”
“Nay! but thou must know,” she said, with a half-merry, half-
nervous little laugh. “Hast heard, oh, son of Ra, that in Kamt we who
are maidens deem it the luckiest thing on earth to pluck the flowers
from out the canopy which sheltered the heads of the bride and
bridegroom, if they come of royal blood? The posy thus made brings
to the owner lasting happiness. And so, to-night, while Tanis is mad
with joy, I crept out of my palace, and came to the temple of Isis, to
twine the nosegay, and having twined it, give it thee.”
I gazed and wondered; little did I understand what the strange girl
intended when she came alone to see Hugh in his solitude. A wild
hope was in my heart that she had come to warn, and an earnest
prayer that he might listen. He did not speak. I fancy he would not
trust himself to say much, but when she so daintily expressed her
desire for his happiness, he raised both her small hands to his lips.
She withdrew them quickly, and said:
“Nay! we have no time to lose, for the posy must be large. There
are many flowers needed to make the bunch of happiness complete.
Thou must help me to pick them, for some of them are too high for
me to reach. But thou art tall! See…” she said, pointing eagerly up to
the great floral canopy, whence masses of blossoms hung in fragrant
shower, “that perfect lily up there, would it not make a lovely centre
for the bunch? Thou art so tall,” she repeated with a pretty gesture of
entreaty, “wilt reach it down for me?”
And Hugh obediently stretched his long limbs and with much
difficulty succeeded in disentangling the coveted lily.
“Is it not beautiful?” she said admiringly, “so chaste! but oh! so
cold. Dost know, oh, beloved of the gods, what the white lily of Kamt
means?”
He shook his head.
“All flowers have a meaning, of course, and the lily means duty,”
she said with a sigh, “that is why it seems so cold, even cruel, in its
waxy, spotless whiteness, but it must form the centre of the bunch,
for I think thou dost love duty dearly, too dearly methinks, and
perhaps wouldst not be happy without it. But,” she added more gaily,
“we will soften her waxy coldness: dost see that graceful bunch of
white acacia? that means homely happiness. It would look well in
graceful clusters round the stern centre of duty.”
He was listening to her merry talk, I fancied, with a slightly puzzled
air sometimes. Still less than I could he guess why she had come;
but her presence made him happy for the moment, and it was quite
gaily that he said: “But I cannot reach the homely happiness.”
“Oh, what a pity!” she said earnestly. “Duty will look so ugly without
home to soften it.”
She paused perplexed, then added with an odd look at Hugh:
“Canst jump, oh, beloved of the gods?”
He laughed gaily, merrily, as I had heard him laugh of old.
“Can I?” he asserted triumphantly, and with gesture and action
hardly befitting the solemn majesty of the temple of Isis, Hugh made
a sudden grab for the drooping acacia, and brought down a perfect
shower of white petals, as the floral canopy trembled with the shock.
“Homely happiness is hard to get,” he said with a laugh, “but it well
repays the effort; the scent of the acacia is very sweet.”
She was laughingly shaking her golden tresses, to which the white
petals persistently clung.
“It was hard,” she said, “but see! how pretty it looks; now, I wonder,
what would look well beside it.”
“These orange blossoms are pretty.”
“Yes!… they are pretty.… Wouldst like a cluster?… In Kamt we call
them wedded bliss.… Dost want it in the posy?” she asked with a
quaint anxious tone in her voice.
“No!” he said abruptly.
The moon must have sunk down very low behind the distant hills
of Kamt, and the temple of Isis was dark, only the fitful glow of one of
the sanctuary lamps lit up the dainty scene before me. Hugh, I could
see, still had himself in absolute control. How long that would last I
could not say. I considered that he owed no allegiance to the woman
who had planned his murder; the sacrilegious marriage had not been
completed, and I, feeble, half-paralysed as I was, had yet the
strength to pray that beautiful Neit-akrit would make my friend forget
the fateful hour of dawn.
There had been long silence between them while she, a trifle
nervously, was fumbling with the flowers, and he was looking
tenderly, longingly, at her.
“Ah, I know!” she said at last, “I must give thee white roses; they
will look lovely beside the homely happiness. See! a beautiful cluster
hangs just above thy head. Thou canst reach it quite easily and
needst but to stretch out thy hand.”
“A lovely cluster indeed, and the scent is delightfully sweet. Wilt
tell me what white roses mean in Kamt?”
He was handing the drooping cluster of roses to her, and she
stretched out her small hand for it; the other was already loaded with
flowers.
“In Kamt white roses mean love,” she whispered, as she took the
flowers from him.
I could see that his fingers fastened upon hers, that his whole
body trembled as if with a mighty effort. It was a cruel position for
any man deeply in love with a very beautiful woman, to be alone with
her in this vast and silent temple, with myriads of flowers round him,
making the air fragrant and heavy. She did not try to disengage her
hand, but stood a little while, with her great eyes meeting his, boldly
and fearlessly.
It was only when, with sudden impulse, he tried to draw her closer
to him, that she gently withdrew her hands and said lightly:

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