The Timeline of Color: It’s All Relative

Color doesn't mean quite the same thing to every artist—or even to the same artist at every stage of learning. Its story stretches across centuries, from Renaissance workshops to scientific experiments and the color wheels we study today. My own timeline is a little shorter, beginning with occasional painting sessions in 2012 and eventually leading to lessons that changed how I see my work. And the fascinating thing is how these timelines connect: the colors around a hue influence how we see it, the discoveries of one era influence the next, and our own experiences change what we're ready to understand. In more ways than one, color is relative. This article is a little longer than my usual blogs, so grab a cup of coffee and come along for the journey.
Sometimes a Photograph Is More Than Just a Photograph
I take a lot of pictures. Paintings, places I’ve visited, and little bits of information I might want to remember someday. Recently, while cleaning out an enormous collection of old photographs on my phone, I came across several I’d taken at the Art Students League of Denver in May 2026.
Now, you might be picturing beautiful landscapes or artwork hanging in a gallery. Nope. I’d photographed what was essentially an informational display on a wall! But hear me out: it was fascinating. Maybe a little nerdy fascinating, but that’s never stopped me before!
An oversized color wheel surrounded information about four individuals who helped shape our understanding of color: Sir Isaac Newton, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Albert H. Munsell, and Johannes Itten. Looking at those photographs, I found myself thinking about how long it had taken me to start understanding color myself. I was painting for years before I seriously studied color theory.
My Timeline: Learning to Paint Before Learning About Color
I first started painting in December 2012. From then until 2017, it was mostly a hobby—a nice distraction from work. I’d pull out the paints, turn on Bob Ross, and spend some time creating happy little trees and mountains. I enjoyed it, but I’d look at my finished paintings and think, “Well, that’s not quite right.” My bushes lacked the texture I wanted, everything seemed flat, and the colors were dull. I knew something was missing but didn’t yet know how to fix it.
Color theory? That could wait. But really, could it? Or should it?
Well, that’s a blog for another day!
In 2017 I attended Bob Ross painting classes and began answering some of those questions. We learned techniques, layering, highlights, shadows, and the importance of keeping dark areas dark enough for the lighter areas to stand out. If you cover up all your darks, how are you going to see your lights? It’s a lesson I still use when painting and teaching today.
Bob had his familiar palette of colors, and our lessons focused mainly on using them to create a painting, rather than exploring color theory in depth. At that point, though, it was exactly what I needed.
I was learning in manageable steps.
By 2018 I was exploring flowers and had painted a black-and-white portrait. Around 2019, I began studying animal painting more seriously. Looking back, even that black-and-white portrait taught me part of color theory: not hue, the color family, but value—the differences between light and dark. I was learning without understanding how all the pieces fit together.
As the subjects became more complicated, I realized that knowing how to put paint on a canvas wasn’t necessarily the same as knowing which colors belonged there—or why.
The Teacher Who Changed How I See Color
Around 2020 and 2021, I began reading more about color. I’d considered classes, but some looked long and intimidating.
Then in 2024, I discovered the work of artist Jane Jones. I first noticed her teaching in Kansas and loved her painting style. And wouldn’t you know it? She lived in Arvada, Colorado, practically in my own backyard and she had a class on color.
I was fortunate to have Jane teach a small group at my home studio.
And then came the charts.
Oh, my goodness, the charts!
So many colors, variations, and combinations. At first I wondered what I’d gotten myself into. But my biggest breakthrough didn’t happen during class. It happened while I was doing my homework.
Yes, homework. And unlike high school, I actually did it!
I sat mixing different reds with different blues and comparing the results. Everyone knows red and blue make purple, right? Well, apparently somebody forgot to tell the paint! Sometimes they do. And sometimes they most certainly do not.
Depending on which red and blue you use, you might get a brilliant purple, a muddy color, or something unexpected. The pigments involved—and even the manufacturer’s formulation—can make a difference. I’d mix two colors and think, “Wait a minute. How did THAT happen?” That was when my curiosity really took off.
I learned that understanding color takes practice. You have to experiment, compare, and give yourself time to notice what is happening. Follow the process, make mistakes, learn from them, and the pieces begin to fit together. I’m only about halfway through Jane’s color studies. Our ongoing move has interrupted my lessons, but I absolutely intend to return. I’ve already learned so much about hue, value, intensity, and warm and cool relationships. I can only imagine what the remaining lessons will teach me!
Jane teaches through the Art Students League of Denver (https://asld.org/), and I encourage anyone interested in color to look into her classes.
Her teaching charts and materials belong to her, so I’m not reproducing them here.
But her instruction has influenced both my painting and how I teach. I try to introduce little bits of color theory to my own students without overwhelming them.
History’s Timeline: Weren’t Artists Using Color Before Newton?
Newton began his famous experiments in the 1660s.
But what about Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael, Donatello…?
Yes, I just named the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Whatever helps us remember art history, right?
Seriously, though, Renaissance masters were creating extraordinary paintings long before Newton’s color circle. How did they learn? Through observation, experimentation, and apprenticeships. Students prepared pigments and other materials, studied their masters’ techniques, copied drawings and paintings, and gradually took on more complex work.
There were written resources, too. Around 1400, Italian painter Cennino Cennini wrote a practical handbook on pigments, painting materials, and techniques, now generally known as The Book of Art. So artists weren’t working without an understanding of color. They simply didn’t have all the same scientific explanations and standardized systems we use today.
Sir Isaac Newton: Discovering Colors Hidden in Light
In the 1660s, Newton used prisms to investigate how white light separates into a spectrum. He showed that those colors were components of white light, not colors the prism simply added. In Opticks (1704), he presented an influential circular arrangement of the spectrum.
Newton was investigating light, not telling painters which blue to choose for a mountain. And there’s an important difference: mixing colored lights follows additive principles, while paint mixing depends on pigments absorbing and reflecting wavelengths. No wonder two reds and blues can behave so differently!
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: But How Does Color Make Us Feel?
In 1810, Goethe published Theory of Colours. As a poet, philosopher, and investigator of nature, he was fascinated by how people experience color. His six-part color wheel associated colors with psychological and emotional qualities. Goethe disputed parts of Newton’s account, although his objections didn’t overturn Newton’s scientific discoveries. His attention to perception nevertheless influenced later art and color theory.
Before your eyes start glazing over and you start looking for the nearest exit, here’s why all this matters. Imagine two paintings of exactly the same landscape. One has glowing orange sunset light and golden grasses; another has cool blue-gray morning shadows. Same mountains, same trees, completely different feeling. Color helps tell the story.
Albert H. Munsell: Color Has More Than One Dimension

American painter and educator Albert H. Munsell published A Color Notation in 1905. His system describes colors by hue (color family), value (lightness or darkness), and chroma (strength or vividness). He developed a three-dimensional color organization rather than only a flat wheel.
Imagine painting a green tree that just doesn’t look right. Maybe the green isn’t the problem: perhaps it’s too light, too intense, or too warm for a distant tree. Instead of only asking, “Which green?”, you can ask how light, how strong, and how it relates to nearby colors. Sometimes that’s exactly what fixes a painting.
Johannes Itten: Bringing Color Into the Classroom

Swiss artist and Bauhaus teacher Johannes Itten helped popularize systematic teaching about color relationships. His 1921 color star explored twelve hues and their tints and shades. His later teaching and publications, including The Art of Color (1961), are associated with the familiar twelve-hue circle and seven categories of color contrast.
Artists learn about primary and secondary colors, complements, light and dark, warm and cool. The traditional red-yellow-blue wheel is useful for teaching relationships, but real pigment mixing isn’t always as tidy as a classroom diagram. Remember those reds and blues that refused to cooperate?
Itten’s great practical value for painters is helping us notice relationships, not memorize a magical recipe that makes every paint mixture behave.
Four Approaches, One Colorful World
Newton investigated light. Goethe explored perception. Munsell organized color systematically. Itten helped artists learn relationships. Their aims were different, and each offers us a useful way to think about color. But standing at an easel, we still have to decide what works. A gray can look warmer next to blue and cooler next to orange. A vivid color on the palette can seem subdued beside an even brighter one. Color doesn’t exist in isolation. Color is relative.
We’re Never Really Finished Learning
I began painting as a way to unwind after work. Then I wanted better bushes, mountains with depth, and more believable animals. Some questions were answered by technique. Others led me toward color.
Would I have benefited from learning color theory sooner? Probably.
But I also wasn’t necessarily ready for it in the beginning. Those early mistakes helped give me the curiosity to learn more, and Jane Jones helped make that learning exciting rather than overwhelming.
I’m still experimenting, still asking questions, and sometimes still mixing something that makes me wonder what on earth just happened. You don’t have to know everything about color before you can paint beautifully. Just start somewhere, give yourself time to explore, and see where it takes you.
Sometimes We Learn Without Realizing It
Funny enough, while I was working on this article, fellow landscape painter Kevin Hill happened to be doing a live Q&A. Talk about perfect timing! Naturally, I couldn't resist asking whether he'd ever taken a formal color theory class and when he'd realized he needed to understand color better.
Kevin explained that his understanding of color developed naturally through years of painting rather than through formal study. But what caught my attention was his discussion of complementary colors and saturation. He pointed out how important it is in landscape painting to understand where stronger, more intense colors belong and where softer, less saturated colors help create a sense of distance.
And here's where things got really interesting.
Remember Leonardo da Vinci, one of our famous Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Well, Leonardo wrote extensively about aerial perspective, observing how distant objects appear less distinct and their colors become less intense as the atmosphere separates them from our eyes. Just look at the soft, hazy landscape behind the Mona Lisa.
Centuries apart, Leonardo and Kevin were describing much the same principle!
Of course, artists can deliberately break that pattern for creative effect. But I found it fascinating that something Kevin learned through years of practical painting connects so naturally to observations made by one of history's greatest artists.
It reminded me that we don't all have to learn the same way. Some artists develop their understanding through experience, while others, like me, eventually sit down with those intimidating color charts and try to figure out why things work.
Different paths, different experiences, but we're all learning to see color a little differently.
See It in Practice
Take a closer look. Can you see where light and dark values create depth?
Are some colors more intense than needed?
Do warm and cool relationships help separate the foreground from the background?
Might changing one area make another stand out?
I’m curious about your experience, too. When did you first study color theory? Do you remember the moment something clicked? Has a mixture ever surprised you? Did the subject intimidate you, and what helped?
And if you could go back to the start of your painting journey, would you study color sooner—or are you happy with the way you discovered it?
Leave a comment below and join the conversation, and click the little heart if you enjoyed this article!
Until next time, keep painting, keep learning, and remember… when it comes to color, it’s all relative!
Thanks for reading!
Hope Blakely — Keeping Happy Trees Alive
















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