Color wheels: Anything but dry theory
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Okay, we all know that the primary colors are red, yellow, and blue. We learn that with our first paint box in elementary school: from these colors we can mix all other colors: greens, purples, and oranges, and with black and white paint, we can make these shades darker and lighter.
All of them? Well then, let's try mixing red and blue to create the red (or more accurately, magenta) used by a major telecommunications company. Because that's impossible.
And anyway, what color is THE blue? THE red? THE yellow? Why are the shadows always such an intense blue on a snowy day? And why does black ink become colorful when you wash it?
Anyone who pays close attention and paints or draws in color – perhaps even professionally – will sooner or later encounter these and countless other (sometimes quite banal) questions. And where there's practice, theory is never far behind – in this case, several theories: For centuries, scientists and artists have grappled with the theory of color and perception – and often debate the true nature of it…
Isaac Newton was the first to prove that white light is composed of light of different colors by passing white light through a prism and observing the colors of the rainbow. He also developed a color wheel that is still valid today.
A hundred years later, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe saw things quite differently and arrived at a theory—less scientific than based on subjective perception—which he considered more important than his literary works well into old age. He, too, developed a color wheel in which he assigned each color to feelings and sensations. (Here is a reproduction of his watercolor.)
As fascinating as the approach of associating colors with moods was and is, from a sober, scientific perspective, Goethe's theory would soon prove to be false. The roughly contemporaneous discovery in 1801 that light (and thus every color of light) is wave-like at least confirmed the somewhat helpless statement by Democritus from around 500 BC: "Only seemingly does a thing have a color, only seemingly is it sweet or bitter; in reality, there are only atoms in empty space."
This research, along with Newton's, forms the basis for the distinction, still valid today, between additive color mixing (when mixing colored light) and subtractive color mixing (when painting, drawing and printing).
Incidentally, the answer to the question of which of the many reds, blues, and yellows are actually THE red, blue, and yellow comes from more recent times. The majority answer is: almost everyone perceives the same very specific shade as the color that most deserves the name.
The Bauhaus teacher Johannes Itten (1888–1967) set about making color theory understandable and applicable in practice with his book "The Art of Color." And, of course, he also created his own personal color wheel.
One thing all these circles have in common: pure yellow and mixed violet are always opposite each other, as are green (mixed from yellow and blue) and pure red, and blue and (mixed) orange. And this can actually be helpful in painting and drawing with color. Because the respective complementary colors always mix to form a gray that is not simply a lightened black.
(This is particularly noticeable with black fountain pen ink: unlike expensive true black pigment, it is usually mixed from dark pigments of complementary colors. As you can see if you suspend a piece of paper in a glass of ink and wait.)
Those who understand and apply the basics of color theory can use colors much more vividly and effectively. And more economically: Three tubes of tempera (cyan, magenta, and yellow) are enough to paint a picture with every imaginable color. Even a picture as sad as one of a duck collision.

These tones are the three pure primary colors also used in halftone printing. Black then serves only to add depth and darkness, or, technically speaking, to completely subtract the reflection of light.
Seen in this light, the colorful circles from science are not just a dry theory: they help us to know what we are actually doing when we paint.




