Before I begin this fascinating study of blue, I want to remind you about three workshops I'm teaching this month. The first is another "Uncovering Your Purpose" online workshop for ArtSpan (use the code ARTFAM25 to register). The second is titled "Create a Signature Series," which you can learn about here.
Now let's jump in.
Like red, blue has its own troubled history. For thousands of years, the only way to achieve this pigment was to mine lapis lazuli from remote caves in Afghanistan’s Kokcha River Valley. The occupation was a death sentence for those forced to work in its dangerous caves. Lapis was a source of wealth for the region for millennia, and it currently helps to fund the Taliban. There are now other mines around the world, but Afghan lapis is still the highest grade.
"The Dream," oil on canvas
The ancient Egyptians had their own lighter version of lapis blue, whose secret formula was so carefully guarded that when the Roman empire fell, it was lost forever. In the late medieval/early Renaissance period, Lapis reached Europe, where artists ground it into a pigment named ultramarine. The expense involved in procuring and delivering the color gave it nearly mystical status, reserved for religious subjects.
Indigo dye was obtained from the tiny leaves of small parasitic shrubs that are part of the Indigofererearsa tribe. It was another of the world’s most sought-after pigments, often more valued than gold, and used as currency in the transatlantic slave trade. West African women became experts in the labor-intensive dyeing process. The United States exploited slave labor and knowledge to harvest and process wild indigo into a lucrative industry. India’s competitive trade, and their cruel labor practices, led to the Indigo Revolt of 1859—Gandhi’s first civil action, and the end of mass indigo cultivation in the British colonies.
But perhaps the most disturbing color story is that of Prussian blue.
"Blue Duck," my parody of the Gainsborough's "Blue Boy," an homage to ultramarine.
In 1706, Johann Jacob Diesbach, a paint maker obsessed with creating a synthetic equivalent of the ruby red that the Spaniards were producing from cochineal insects, poured potash over blood and iron sulfate. Instead of achieving red, he produced a deep navy, which he hopefully dubbed Prussian blue (thinking he’d discovered the key to an empire-making fortune). The new affordable pigment turned blue into a common color in artist palettes.
It also became the basis for cyanide when in 1782, Carl Wilhelm Scheele accidentally stirred a pot of Prussian blue with a spoon carrying traces of sulfuric acid. Scheele mixed it with arsenic to create a brilliant emerald paint that was used in toys that, unsurprisingly, killed many children. It was also Napoleon’s favorite color. His green-painted rooms most likely caused the mysterious illness that killed him. Nearly two centuries later, cyanide, or “blue acid” as the Nazis called it, tinted the walls in their gas chambers.
"Transgender Angel," oil on canvas
Why am I telling you all this? It’s not just about history. I think it’s important to know the human cost beneath our modern luxuries, including artist pigments. I’ve always been careful to use non-toxic materials, use gloves when I paint, and filter the air in my studio. But knowing the story of a color helps me choose it more consciously, to honor the energy behind its centuries-long journey to my palette. Just because paints are all mostly now doesn't mean they're divorced from their history.
And if you’ve read all the way to the end of this long article, you’ve found it interesting, too. May you appreciate your colorful world today, with humble gratitude and awareness.
Art Heals
It's not hard to find art online that uses blue to calm or heal. A simple search yielded this art by Suzanne Vaughan, who paints "vibrantly colored abstract paintings & modern minimal sea and landscapes." She knows what she paints and why. I love the simplicity of her color gradations, and the way she implies shapes without rendering anything. This one is titled "Tranquil Blue." It reminds me of the backdrop of my frequent underwater dreams.
