In the early 1700s, a deep blue pigment appeared that would change the colour game for artists across Europe. It was rich, mysterious, and - strangely enough - accidentally invented. But the most surprising part? It might have roots in the same shadowy soil that inspired Frankenstein.
The story begins with a paintmaker named Johann Jacob Diesbach. While working in Berlin, Diesbach set out to make a red lake pigment using cochineal, a deep crimson derived from insects. But something went wrong. Instead of red, he got an intense blue - an outcome completely unexpected and previously unseen in European pigment history.
The accidental ingredient? Contaminated potash - borrowed from none other than Johann Konrad Dippel, a controversial figure dabbling in alchemy, theology, and experimental science.
Dippel, known for his obsession with the soul and for conducting strange anatomical experiments, had been using the potash to create an animal oil concoction known as Dippel's oil, which he claimed was the elixir of life - a legendary potion that is said to grant immortality and eternal youth. When Diesbach mixed this tainted potash into his dye process, it triggered a chemical reaction that created a brand new substance: Prussian blue.
Whether or not Dippel was directly responsible is debated - this origin story comes from a 1731 account by chemist Georg Ernst Stahl, and no other contemporary source backs it up. Still, the coincidence is hard to ignore.
Dippel was born at Castle Frankenstein, and some historians believe his grim experiments - rumoured to include soul transference and corpse reanimation - helped inspire Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. So, while we may never know the full truth, the strange alchemy that led to Prussian blue is dripping with gothic intrigue.
What we do know is this: Prussian blue was the first modern synthetic pigment, and it quickly became a sensation. Before its discovery, artists had few options for a stable blue. Indigo faded. Smalt was dull. Ultramarine (made by grinding lapis lazuli gem stones) was so expensive it was worth more than gold.
Prussian blue changed everything. It was affordable, reliable, and vibrant, and it spread like wildfire - from oil paintings in Europe to ukiyo-e woodblock prints in Japan. The brilliant blue wave in Hokusai’s The Great Wave off Kanagawa is thanks to Prussian blue, and Hokusai’s use of Prussian blue inspired the “blue revolution” of Japanese artwork from the 1830s onwards.
Another surprising thing about Prussian blue is that it doubles as a medicine. In fact, it’s on the World Health Organization’s List of Essential Medicines. This deep blue marvel is used to treat heavy metal poisoning from thallium and radioactive caesium. Its secret lies in its structure: it binds to toxic metal ions and helps the body flush them out. So whether it’s catching the light in a painting or cleansing the body of poison, Prussian blue proves it’s anything but ordinary. A pigment that heals? Sounds like something straight out of Frankenstein’s lab.
From gothic castles to global galleries, Prussian blue has travelled a strange and fascinating path. A colour born from alchemy and mystery, with links to both Frankenstein and life-saving science - it’s a reminder that in art, as in history, the most unexpected accidents can leave the most lasting impressions.
