The Pigment Problem

Arsenic Green : if books could kill...

Why Ancient Colours Aren’t Always Better (and Modern Ones Aren’t Always Worse)

By Martin Kinnear Studio

If you've ever stood in front of a painting from the 1600s and wondered how they got that astonishing glow in a saint’s robe or the eerie depth of a stormy sky, you're not alone. Painters and pigment nerds alike have long been obsessed with the magic of historical colours. The catch? That lovely, otherworldly blue you’re admiring may have once been ground-up semi-precious stone. And also possibly poisonous. But we’ll come to that.

Here at the Martin Kinnear Studio Contemporary Atelier, where we try to mix a deep respect for tradition with a slightly more contemporary desire not to go bankrupt or poisoned, we spend a lot of time thinking about what’s in the paint. And, perhaps more controversially, whether the ‘rare and expensive’ old stuff is actually better than what we have now.

The answer is: sometimes yes, sometimes no—and often not in the way you'd think.

Grade Expectations

Let’s start with a dull-sounding but vital thing: paint grade. Artists’ paint isn’t all made equal. The really good stuff—usually labelled “artist” or “professional” grade—has more pigment, better binders, and none of the suspicious fillers that make student-grade paints so frustratingly dull. But beyond that, even the best paints aren’t always made with the “best” (i.e. oldest or rarest) pigments.

That’s because many traditional pigments were absolute nightmares: they faded, reacted badly to other colours, cost more than your house, or could literally kill you. Modern pigments, for all their unromantic, lab-coated names—Phthalo this and Quinacridone that—are often far more reliable, stable, and vibrant than their historical ancestors.

And yet, there's a catch. Because while modern pigments are often technically superior, they sometimes don’t look quite right in classical work. That’s because pigments don’t just reflect colour—they bend, bounce, and scatter light in ways that our eyes are weirdly attuned to, especially when viewing old masterpieces.

This is what we mean by optical properties. You can mix a modern red to match the tone of Vermilion under bright lights, but try glazing with it on a Rembrandt-style ground, and suddenly it’s like putting tomato soup on a Persian rug. Something is off. It’s not the wrong colour. It’s just not the right kind of colour.

Three Pigments That’ll Make You Question Your Life Choices

For your delight and mild horror, here are three of our all-time favourite historical pigments that have been (thankfully) replaced by modern ones.

1. Ultramarine – Ground Lapis Lazuli

Lapis , very beautiful, very expensive, very weak in mixes

Let’s begin with the ultimate diva of the pigment world: Ultramarine. Made by grinding up Lapis Lazuli, a semi-precious stone imported from Afghanistan, this blue was once more expensive than gold. Literally. Artists had to justify its use to their patrons. Mary in the Virgin Mary got the best blues. Your local bishop? Not so much.

Today’s French Ultramarine is chemically identical but cooked up in a lab rather than mined from the mountains. It's brighter, more affordable, and doesn't come with the ethical dilemma of pulverising ancient rocks. Still, it lacks some of the delicate, misty complexity of the original—which is why some historical painters just won’t let it go.

2. Vermilion – Mercury Sulphide

Mercury Sulphide or Cinnabar on Etsy (!)

Ah, Vermilion. It’s the red that built empires and ended lives. A glorious, blood-rich scarlet originally made from cinnabar, a mercury ore. Gorgeous? Yes. Deadly? Also yes. Prolonged exposure could cause tremors, madness, and death—though, admittedly, it looked fantastic on velvet sleeves in 17th-century portraits.

These days, we use Cadmium Red or Pyrrole Red, both modern pigments that are safer and more lightfast. But again, the modern reds sometimes don’t quite replicate that soft, slightly smoky aura of genuine Vermilion under glaze.

3. Emerald Green – Arsenic Delight

Paris Green - Impressionism really is dead

And finally, the delightful yet homicidal Emerald Green. This bright, apple-skin green was all the rage in the 1800s until people realised it contained arsenic and was probably responsible for poisoning not just painters but also ladies in green ballgowns and wallpaper enthusiasts.

Modern equivalents like Viridian or Phthalo Green are far less murderous, though they tend to be more intense and less chalky than the original. Some artists miss that milky opacity, but most of us prefer our paints not to be classified as biohazards.

So… Are Modern Paints Better?

In many ways, absolutely. They’re more consistent, less toxic, and generally easier to handle. But if you're trying to recreate the mood and atmosphere of a Baroque altarpiece or an 18th-century Dutch still life, you might find that your dazzling modern pigments are just a little too perfect.

That’s why, in our studio, we teach both: how to wrangle modern paints into traditional methods, and how to understand what made those old colours so compelling in the first place—even if you’re not about to grind Lapis in your kitchen sink.

So the next time you're reaching for a paint tube, remember: just because it costs more or has a romantic name doesn’t mean it’s better. But also, just because it’s modern and safe doesn’t mean it can do everything.

Painting, like life, is all about knowing your materials—and when to cheat a little.

Want to explore the deep history (and peculiar chemistry) of colour firsthand? Join Advanced Oils or follow us for pigment-packed tips, tricks, and occasional cautionary tales from the palette’s dark past.

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