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100th anniversary Caran d'Ache Prismalo watercolor pencils |
(Warning: In addition to being a standard product review, this
post has some colored pencil history geekiness that might be a bit deep for
most sketchers. However, it ends with a surprising insight about watercolor
pencils. If you’re not interested in this particular pencil or its vintage
comparison, but you are interested in what I learned, skip down to “Unexpected
Insight.” Or bear with me for the full geeky ride! There’s a lesson here about
art materials in general.)
My interest, however, in Caran d’Ache’s product lines (especially
water-soluble colored pencils, which the Swiss company invented and introduced
with the Prismalo line in 1931) and their history continued to pique my
curiosity about a few things. Earlier this year, I reviewed a vintage set of Prismalo pencils I found
on eBay. In that review, I was puzzled about where Prismalos stand, in terms of
quality, in Caran d’Ache’s product family. I concluded that the vintage set I
have seems to line up more closely with student-grade Fancolor than with artist-quality Supracolor (and
certainly Prismalo comes nowhere near premium-quality Museum Aquarelle). For a while, I thought Prismalo was no longer
available, which led me to speculate that the contemporary Fancolor product
might have taken its place. Later, though, readers and European colored pencil
fans pointed out that Prismalo is still a current product (more easily found in
Europe than in the US).
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Two vintage boxes that look identical -- except one is called
"Prismalo" and the other is not. |
A few months after writing that review, I found another
small box on eBay that looked identical to my vintage box of Prismalos – except
that it had no mention of the name “Prismalo” – only the term “water soluble.”
The eBay vendor’s description was even more intriguing: She claimed that this
set contained Supracolor I watercolor pencils, “which are harder than
Supracolor II.” What?! This certainly sparked my curiosity; I have wondered
many times why the Supracolor line had started out with a Roman numeral II and
was later called Supracolor II Soft and finally just Supracolor Soft – what
happened to Supracolor I? Would this box on eBay finally resolve that mystery?
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Both vintage sets look similar, inside and out. |
Disappointingly, neither the pencils nor the tin say
Supracolor I anywhere, so I have only the eBay vendor’s claim. (When I pursued
the question with the vendor, it turned out that she was quoting the person
from whom she had acquired the used set, so she had no more information about
the “I” designation and knew nothing about Caran d’Ache or pencils. Very
frustrating for a colored pencil historian!)
The pencil bodies and tins look so similar that it’s hard to
imagine that the Prismalos and the non-Prismalos are not the same product. Even
the ages of my two sets look similar. Compared side by side in use, they are
identical: Harder and less vibrant when water-activated than contemporary
Supracolors, and all the hues (with matching color numbers) are identical. Was
the water-soluble line later named “Prismalo”? But if so, why is Prismalo
considered Caran d’Ache’s first water-soluble product? Another mystery!
All these frustrations led me to the inevitable: I bought
the 100th anniversary set of Prismalo pencils! I didn’t really
believe that owning the collectible set would resolve any questions, but I knew
that they would make me happy (as nearly every colored pencil does).
Now that you have the backstory, here’s the review and
comparison with the vintage Prismalos (followed by the interesting insight):
The lovely commemorative box (shown at top of post) includes
an embossed portrait of the Matterhorn, the Prismalo line’s icon. The paper box
(instead of a contemporary metal tin) has a vintage feeling (although sadly, my
box got a bit crushed on one corner. Good thing I’m not a collector intending
to keep this set in mint condition for future resale). Pulling the small red
ribbon tab reveals the drawer of pencils.
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The 100th anniversary Prismalo pencils. |
A hinged kickstand behind the tray folds out, enabling the
tray to stand on the desktop. This, too, is a charming, nostalgic touch that
reminds me of Mongol, Venus and other vintage colored pencils
that came in boxes with stands.
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A hinged kickstand folds out. |
For historical interest, I lined up an anniversary edition
Prismalo alongside a vintage one and a vintage non-Prismalo pencil that looks
just like it. Though with minor changes in typeface and branding, they are
clearly of the same general design. All three have a white end cap.
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From top: anniversary Prismalo; vintage Prismalo; vintage pencil that is not Prismalo |
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The top two vintage pencils' end caps show their
age, but are otherwise identical to the contemporary
Prismalo. |
As I swatched the anniversary edition colors, I immediately
noticed something different: The contemporary Prismalos felt softer than I
remembered the vintage ones being. I pulled out the vintage sets to refresh my
memory, and I was right. While the contemporary Prismalos are still harder than
Supracolors, they are distinctly softer than their ancestors.
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100th anniversary Prismalo palette |
The water-swipe test brought another surprise. The new
Prismalos activated much more vibrantly than their vintage ancestors,
indicating that they contain more pigment. In fact, I started wondering if they
were closer to Supracolors. . . ? How would all four compare? Now things were
getting interesting!
Picking out three colors (230 – yellow green, 70 – scarlet,
160 – cobalt blue) that are included in all four sets, I compared
water-activated swatches side by side. In softness, pigment quality and vibrancy
when activated, I’d say the contemporary Prismalos are closer to Supracolors
than to either of the vintage sets.
I came to the same conclusion that I have several times now
when I’ve been able to pit a contemporary product against its ancestors: Art
material production processes continue to evolve and improve over time, and in
general, newer products are better than older ones. We live in good times with
many terrific options.
Unexpected Insight
If I had done nothing but the comparison swatch tests, I’d
be ready to say that contemporary Prismalos are pretty darn good and could be
considered a harder version of Supracolors. Given their conveniently matched
color numbers, I’d be tempted to declare them the ideal pair of hard and soft water-soluble colored pencils to be used together. But here’s where the plot thickens:
As always, I ended my product review process by making a sample
sketch. (In the past, I’ve consistently used apples, but I’ve moved on to the
more challenging shape of pears.) Using a Stillman & Birn Beta sketchbook, I initially applied a light layer of pigment
and then activated it. After the paper was completely dry, I started applying
the next layer – and the pigment was strangely difficult to apply. Although I
knew I had not flattened the paper’s tooth (which can happen when too much
pressure is applied with the initial layer), it almost felt that way – like the
new pigment was simply skidding over a waxy surface instead of being captured
by the paper’s tooth. It took significant effort to get the color down.
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11/21/18 100th anniversary Prismalo pencils in Stillman & Birn Beta sketchbook |
As is my usual process, I activated this second layer, allowed it
to dry, and then applied more pigment, intending it to be the final texture and
detail layer that I would not activate. I wasn’t happy with the color intensity
at this point, however, so I went through another cycle of pigment and
activation before finishing. I didn’t remember having difficulty with the
vintage Prismalos . . . I was a bit perplexed.
This is when my moment of insight came: Years ago when I first
started dabbling in watercolor pencils, I used an inexpensive set that resulted
in experiences similar to this: pigment applied after an initial layer of activation
felt like it would not apply easily over the activated area. With my lack of
experience or instruction (books I read at the time never seemed to address
this), this experience led me to assume that dry pencil could not be reapplied after
the previous layer had been activated. For years after, I always applied as
much pigment as possible before activating it, thinking that once I applied
water, I could not apply more. I often felt like I had taken an OK drawing of
dry pencil and ruined it with water, but had no opportunity to fix it. I was frustrated regularly.
When I finally studied watercolor pencils formally with Suzanne Brooker last year, I was so
surprised to learn that not only can you continue applying more pigment
over previously water-activated areas; it’s actually a more effective way to
build layers of color and value. And with the artist-grade pencils I was using
in class, it was entirely possible. What a light bulb moment!
All of this came back to me as I struggled to use the
Prismalos, and by the time I finished that sketch of the pears, I had to take
the next step immediately: Make a comparison sketch, this time with
Supracolors.
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11/21/18 Caran d'Ache Supracolor pencils in Stillman & Birn Beta sketchbook |
Not surprisingly, artist-grade Supracolors behaved exactly
as I expected them to: Subsequent dry layers of pigment could be applied easily
over previously water-activated areas, and it was possible to go through
several cycles of dry/wet applications without struggle. (This is the same
experience I’ve had with artist-grade Faber-Castell Albrecht Durer and, of course, my favorite Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelle.)
Conclusion: Even though Prismalos and Supracolors look and
act the same when making small swatches, completing a sketch tells the full
story. Perhaps Prismalos contain less pigment, or the type of binder used is
less amenable to multiple applications. I wish I knew more about how watercolor
pencils are made; I might be able to speculate more accurately on how they are
different. After these sketches, though, I’d have to say that although Prismalos
are of high quality, they are not artist grade.
I think one reason why this insight struck me is that, in
recent years, I’ve gotten accustomed to using artist-grade watercolor pencils,
and I don’t generally explore lower-quality ones. My early experiences with low-quality
watercolor pencils led me to believe, for years,
that all watercolor pencils behaved in a certain way which required me to use
them in a certain way, and I didn’t know enough (until Suzanne’s class) to try
using higher-quality pencils differently – even though I had switched to artist
grade long before I began studying with her.
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Pretty, but probably not artist grade. |
The Moral of the
Story
Beyond this personal insight (and far beyond this product
review), the moral of this story is advice I’ve often heard: When learning a
new medium, always use the highest quality materials you can afford – even if they seem
“better than you need” at the time.
A couple of months ago, Liz Steel discussed this same issue as it relates to student-grade and artist-grade
watercolor paints: “When you are starting out with watercolour it can
seem like a good option to buy the cheaper kits because after all you don’t
know if you will like watercolour painting. It’s also easy to think that you
are not good enough to use the top quality paints. But in many respects this is
false economy as the quality of some of these kits can be so inferior that you
don’t really experience the magic of watercolour. . . . I think it’s much
easier to get frustrated and discouraged when learning to paint with student
grade watercolour.”
I agree with Liz completely. When you use low-quality
products and bad paper (or good paper that’s inappropriate for the chosen
medium), you are likely to get disappointing results – but those results are
not the worst part. The worst part is that you
won’t know whether the results are due to not using the materials appropriately
or because those inferior materials will never give you better results even if
you knew how to use them. In my case, even when I started using higher-quality
pencils, I used them in the same way that the low-quality pencils had “taught”
me to use them – not realizing how much more they can do and with better results when used
appropriately.
Ironically, with some experience using an art material, it
might be possible to get decent results with student-grade products, but as I
discovered with the Prismalos, it takes more work and some struggle while I “reteach”
myself how to use them. (This gives me a masochistic idea: Now that I have more
experience with watercolor pencils, maybe I’ll dig out my old low-quality set
and see what I can do with them! This reminds me of the old joke about wearing
tight shoes because it feels so good to take them off.)
Edited 12/1/18: Here's the result of that masochistic exercise.
If you stayed with me for this whole geeky ride, thank you! And
if you didn’t, but you read only the story’s moral, my job here is done.