Category: Color Lore

  • Ultramarine isn’t just blue. It’s blue with a pedigree.

    Ultramarine isn’t just blue. It’s blue with a pedigree.

    Mariana, Sir John Everett Millais
    Mariana, Sir John Everett Millais

    For centuries, the most luminous ultramarine came from lapis lazuli mined in remote mountains (and moved across continents by hand, animal, ship, and at great risk).

    Before it ever touched a brush, it had already lived several lives: as stone, as treasure, as trade, as an ordeal. By the time the pigment reached a painter’s studio, it arrived with a built in mythology of rarity and great value.

    Where it comes from and why it mattered

    Natural ultramarine is made by grinding lapis lazuli and laboriously separating the blue particles from duller minerals. It was hard work and low yield, meaning you could throw a lot of money at it and still not get much.

    That scarcity became part of its aura. It was limited, temperamental, and priced like a jewel.

    The business of a sacred blue

    In many workshops, ultramarine was treated like a luxury ingredient. Patrons sometimes specified it in contracts, especially when they wanted a painting to announce devotion and status in the same breath.

    A painter would often make decisions like:

    • Use ultramarine only where it counts
    • Substitute cheaper blues elsewhere
    • Reserve it for the most symbolically loaded surfaces

    In other words: color as strategy.

    The symbolism

    Ultramarine’s cultural meaning didn’t come only from religion, but religion supercharged it. In Western European painting, it became linked to the sacred, especially through Marian blue*.

    The Virgin with Angels (La Vierge aux anges), also known as The Song of the Angels, 1881, by artist William-Adolphe Bouguereau
    The Virgin in Prayer, Giovanni Battista Salva da Sassoferrato 1650

    Ultramarine evokes emotion

    It’s a hue that carries the hush and mystery of distance: deep ocean, a starry night, or the far side of a mountain range. Because it’s so saturated, it doesn’t just sit on the surface; it seems to gather light and hold it.

    The Blue Silk Dress, Dante Gabriel Rossetti (model Jane Morris)

    The beauty of ultramarine is that it refuses to be merely decorative. It has depth without gloom, richness without shouting. It can read as sky, sea, velvet, or benediction, sometimes all at once, holding both distance and devotion in the same breath. Even now, when the pigment is no longer rare, the color still behaves like something precious: it gathers our attention, steadies our gaze, and makes a little room in the mind for wonder.

    Ultramarine doesn’t just color a surface; it dignifies it, quietly.

    *More on Marian Blue on this Wikipedia page, along with links to a variety of shades, complete with swatches.