I’ve always had a penchant for shadowy things. For example, I’m attracted to (some might say, addicted to) film noir & mystery books. I adore listening to old radio programs like Suspense & The Whistler. And, at this time of year in particular, I find myself longing for the tule fog of my youth. Tule (pronounced “too-lee”) fog is a phenomenon unique to the central valley of California. Although it can wreak havoc on one’s New Year’s Eve party plans & cause massive pile-ups on Highway 99, I’m often nostalgic for that dense, wet gauze that envelops everything – trees, buildings, the car in front of you – & renders it all but invisible.
Why this is so is probably best left unexplored, but the fact remains, I love the many elements of visual eeriness: Oblique angles, strong light & dark contrasts, a bias toward murkiness, an overall sense of isolation or alienation. Indeed, one of my favorite artists is Edward Hopper, whose best-known painting, Nighthawks, depicts a strange, fishbowl-like, urban diner during the wee hours. It is said that Hopper’s House by the Railroad was the inspiration for the creepy mansion in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho & his vertiginous etching Night Shadows could easily be a storyboard from an Orson Welles movie.
But even in a painting or drawing not intentionally given to melodrama or mystery, it is possible to create a small area of eye-pleasing intrigue by the use of a lost edge. A lost edge occurs when part of a line or shape disappears into the surrounding area. In a still life, a likely place to utilize this artistic device is at the bottom of an object, say a bowl, where it can merge into its own cast shadow. In a portrait, a shoulder or a section of hair may blend seamlessly into the background. In a landscape, distant objects like trees can melt into each other or into the sky.
Lost edges represent visual obfuscation with a purpose. Because they unify &, therefore simplify, they give the viewer’s eye a place to rest. By suggesting varying planes, they enhance the illusion of space & 3-dimensionality. In addition, edges lost in shadow throw a spotlight, so to speak, on what’s closest to them. In one of his typically cozy still lifes, Jean Siméon Chardin places the center of interest, 3 white eggs, in front of a piece of crockery whose bottom edge is lost in its own cast shadow. By placing the lightest lights of the painting right next to a unified mass of darkest darks, Chardin stage-directs our eyes where to look first.
It’s interesting to note that the expression “to lose one’s edge” bears the negative connotation of losing one’s drive or advantage. When we say “I’ve lost my edge,” we mean something like “I’ve lost my determination to be outstanding” or “I’ve lost my advantage over others.” In art, deliberately losing part of an object’s edge – the very thing that delineates it from its surroundings – results in a stronger, more cohesive & usually more pleasing drawing or painting.
While it’s true that by sacrificing clarity & literalness in a few places, more essential elements can take center stage, it’s also true that areas of lost edges can be beautiful in themselves. Even though our eyes may skip quickly over them initially in favor of more detailed, more colorful or more prominent areas, eventually they beckon us to take a closer look & we marvel at the unexpected richness of subtle colors or the variety of interesting marks.
By the way, for the auditory equivalent of a lost edge, listen to Johnny Mathis’ classic rendition of Misty. There is a famous & goosebump-producing part where he sings the phrase “On my own…” after an instrumental break. The word “on” emerges seamlessly from an oboe solo without the listener realizing that Mathis has actually been singing for about 5 seconds. So perfectly does he blend his voice with this instrument that it’s impossible to distinguish the difference between them; one is left wondering where his voice actually came from. Now that is the most sublime use of the principle of a lost edge I’ve ever heard!
Here is a link to Mathis’ fascinating recollection of how this came about: http://sevensteeples.com/misty2.hhttps://morningsonmaplestreet.com/2014/11/27/making-misty-the-legendary-johnny-mathis-recording/