Falling into Place

There are drawings where everything seems to go right. There is an instant connection with the pose, the colors immediately come to mind and one leads into another, even the re-work and corrections are effortless. This drawing, Torso I, is a case in point. I am submitting a drawing to an exhibition and my last effort was forced, tight, and unrewarding. Possibly because I was thinking too much about "getting it right". This time, for some reason, I did not have those concerns, and everything flowed easily, in two three-hour sessions. I am pleased with the freedom of the strokes, the color choices, and most importantly, that I "put the pencil down" and didn't overwork it.

My only bit of 20/20 hindsight: it probably could have been cropped a little more aggressively to improve the dynamics of the figure to the frame edge. A lesson for next time.

Way too fussy.

When I originally began working on this drawing, I was pleased where it was headed. I like the slight distortion to emphasize the emotion in the pose, with perhaps hints of narrative. But as it neared completion, I became more and more dissatisfied with the final. After some thinking and feedback, I re-worked sections, to no avail. It simply did not zing me. Finally it dawned on me that the problem was that the drawing was too tight: too much drawing, too much clarity and not enough ambiguity, stroke quality, and gesture. I've filed it away as a lesson learned and moved on to another, which I promise myself will be less "thought-out" and less fussy.

In Transition

Well, I finally got down on paper an image that had been hanging around the studio, actually the last three studios, for almost five years now. Every now and then I would take a peek, perhaps stab at a sketch, but never take it to completion. I'm not sure why. I really like the emphatic pose and the subtle "horizontal V" formed by the right elbow to left elbow, then left hip to right.

I think it fits nicely into the series of diptychs I have been exploring where the two drawings function independently, yet tile together to form a stronger whole. I also like how the color schemes are similar yet not identical, with the highlight on the right forearm echoing the pale blue green that dominates the left side.

I feel the need to transition into something a little different. I've been wanting to work in more emphatic, pronounced strokes, producing a less literal result. Also, I am thinking of exaggerating body parts and figures with distortion, increased depth of field, angles, to produce a result that is less literal, yet still recognizably figurative.

Sun-drenched.

During bright daylight I always wear sunglasses. Outside, indoors as well. Bright sun light really bothers my eyes for extended periods and I am uncomfortable without them. The other day, I was going to my car to retrieve some drawing materials and I took a chance and went "unprotected". The sun was shining fully in the garden: the flowers, leaves, all surfaces were bright and painfully vivid. I had forgotten how the highlights bleached white at their brightest point, almost to a flare, and everything was awash in color. My mind instantly went to Van Gogh and his time in the sun-drenched town of Arles, in Southern France. Bright yellows, pinks, greens and blues: a world of high contrast, wonderful color.

The image I had chosen for my next drawing was far from the bright sunlight of southern France, or where I live for that matter. But the form let itself well to the diptych format I am currently exploring and I wanted to capture that moment I had glimpsed in my sunny garden. So I purposely shifted the palette to the vivid end of the spectrum for my next Odalisque.

The left panel was drawn twice. The first version was clumsy and didn't fit the space correctly. I don't want my drawings to be pinpoint accurate, detailed renderings (that would drive me insane) but they need to be plausible.

The whole point of my work is how shapes and colors fit together on the page. The figure is my starting point. I like monumentality in shapes. Subject (or gender, in answer to those who have asked) is irrelevant, simply how light and shadow jig saw together with the edges of the page.

Fresh Eyes

Sometimes, time away from a work in progress can be really helpful, allowing me to come back with a fresh set of eyes. As I mentioned in my post below, I was pleased with this image, the drawing, and its progress, but it was lacking a finishing touch. Taking a week off to look at the drawing and consider my next steps allowed me to identify the spots that needed strengthening and finish the drawing.

Warm and Cool.

I have been playing around with the idea of images that, when combined together, form a separate unique image: the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. For some time I have been struck by the dynamics of this particular pose, thinking it well suited for splitting in two. The initial underdrawing was done on both sheets simultaneously, to maintain the flow of the figure. But as I worked up the color, I let the left hand drawing stay on the warm side, while the right took on a cool tone.

I also purposely avoided too much blending and smoothing of the pastel. My previous drawing suffered from too "refined" a surface, and lacked vigor. This pose certainly deserves vigor! While this drawing is not fininshed (the chin at the top when the clamp fell, and general clean-up), I am hesitant to mess with it too much for fear of ruining a good thing.

Also, after doing the initial drawing from the photo manquette, I purposely set the photo aside and worked on the drawing in front of me. This helped me avoid being too fussy and tight.

The title, Torso Diptych with Claw, derives from a comment Francine made upon first view: "this is cool but the hand on the right looks like claw". I like the sketchy roughness, and if it reads as a hand, OK by me.

Cardboard and Mint

A friend and I were having coffee a few weeks ago and while standing in line I happened to notice a particular color combination on the in-store video monitor. We walked over and, pointing to the monitor, I asked Kate "cardboard and mint?" This is very often how I start off a drawing. After I have selected an image (in the final below, a black and white) I then think about a color scheme, usually based on a swatch, or sample, or brief glimpse in the oddest of places.

As much as I like the dynamics of this pose, the final result has some noticeable problems. While the underdrawing is solid, the proportions where I want them, the final lacks "punch". I track much of this to the fact that it was completed over an extended period of several weekends (long for me), a length of time where I was not immersed in the drawing: not engaged in the act of looking, drawing, reacting, and redrawing that help pull together the final. This drawing, more than others recently, remind me that I need to be physically involved in drawings to have consistent results. I need to be around them daily, regularly looking, making marks often, scrubing, erasing, reworking continually or the final result is "flat".

I also failed to achieve a heavily worked surface that, though light in palette, retains enough stroke variety and intensity to be interesting. And after much fiddling with the "cardboard" color the original scheme of "cardboard and mint " was not fully realized. I'll redraw this image; I think it has strong possibilities for a good result.


A postscript: I happened to open the studio shot on my laptop the other night and the screen cropped the large image in an interesting way that strengthened the drawing by eliminating excess and emphasizing the dynamics. The lighter sections at the top and bottom reflect the parts accidentally "cropped" by the monitor, parts that will be cut away from at least this version of the final.

Working Through It

There are days when I just don't feel like drawing. It seems as though I come up with things "to do" to avoid facing the paper. And it is not that I don't have anything "to draw", or any ideas: I keep several file folders with source images, color swatches, "starting points" for blocked periods (those happen too).

But I felt "obligated" to at least make the effort. It had been a week or so since I had drawn and I alternate between itching to get back to a drawing and irritated because the work week has kept me away. So I headed up to the studio, puttered around, straightening, cleaning, and working myself up to speed. Once I mounted the paper on the easel and began to rough in the figure, one thing led to another and I was on my way.

Four hours later, I had the basis for the finished drawing. My starting color palette was a salmon/cream highlights, sort of a pea green/khaki midtone, and shadows of deep aqua. When I finished the first session, the shadows were clearly punchless. I looked at the image for a day or so and came back the next morning to punch it up and, keeping with my preferred method, scrub out some highlights.

This is part of a series of extreme high- and low-angle drawings where I am moving away from the standard "horizon line" and viewer/subject relationship. Even if I come upon a pose that is "straight-on", I will always rotate and crop to increase the dynamics.

Loosening Up

From the moment I saw this pose, I liked it and wanted to do a drawing. The first thought that came to mind was a comic book action hero, with the dramatic, action-filled pose, and the interesting camera angle.


So, in keeping with the bold primary colors characteristic of comic books from the 50s and 60s, I jumped right in with red and green as the primary colors for the basic shapes, and blue, another primary, providing the shadows.

Also in keeping with the spirit of the pose, I made sure my strokes bold and free, with less of the blending characteristic or some of my other pastels. I was pleased with the speed and assurance which I worked, and have become better at putting the chalk away, before I think I am finished.

This image marks a bit of a departure, as I begin to explore more dramatic camera angles and foreshortening. I continue to have the figure shapes floating free from the background, yet tied to the edges of the page. The large areas of untouched paper actually is an idea that I picked up while looking at the work of Sam Francis, who I greatly admire. His affinity for strong colors "dancing" on white canvas is very striking.

CMYK, for starters.

Cyan. Magenta. Yellow. Black. The building blocks of commercial color printing, and the tools of my trade over the last 30 years in the graphic design business. To this day I am amazed that these four colors can combine to produce some remarkable color printing of astonishing fidelity given the limited source palette. For this drawing, as an exercise, I played with the idea of working with these limited colors and simulating what commercial printing does: produce a final that is perceived to be varied in spectrum, contrast, and intensity, despite a limited source palette. I followed my usual working method of blocking in color over a simple form sketch, with yellow for the highlights, magenta for the mid tones, and cyan for the shadows (see Step1 in photo).

Similar to color printing, I used black to provide contrast and definition. In theory (here), cyan, magenta, and yellow alone should be able to produce a credible simulation of the full spectrum. However, given the limitations of printing ink, paper whiteness, and viewing light, the black is necessary to “punch it up”. And so, I did the same, adding black over the color areas (Step 2 in photo), to darken where the combination of cyan and magenta were incapable of producing the necessary contrast. I worked the cyan and magenta together, one over the other to darken each in their respective areas. Ok, with a little orange to transition between the magenta and yellow, the combination of which in pastel anyway, produces a peculiar pink unwanted here.

For the final, I wanted to thin out the highlights a bit so that the yellow was not so intense. I buffed it down and then came over with some light beige and tans, working them into the background and then re-establishing the yellow where necessary. I wanted a high contrast, but I didn’t want the shadow areas to be too “black black”, but rather, a “colored black”. I scrubbed down the black chalk and worked deep blue and purple together, plus a little green to muddy things up. Not true CMYK, but less stark. I reserved the black for the final definition of forms, where absolutely necessary. “Punching it up”, in my own way.


A couple of production notes: I worked from a black and white image. Or at least the print-out is, I may have stripped out all color from the original at an earlier stage, I can’t remember. The paper is my standard, Rives BFK, but in a hard-to-find size: 30 x 42”, which leads me to believe the sheet may have been cut from their standard 42” wide roll.

Before and After Photos

I work from photographs almost exclusively. This allows me to take figure images, rotate, crop, and otherwise manipulate them into compositions that suit my needs. But what starts out as a source photo is almost never the image that I use as the inspiration for a drawing, and it certainly never resembles the final image. There are artists that do work directly from photos and endeavor to match them accurately. I see nothing wrong with this approach, but it doesn't appeal to me. I prefer to let the abstract, gestural aspects of drawing show in the final.

For the following drawing, I selected a figure image that was a particularly appealing form, but changed the value emphasis dramatically from a dark, somewhat murky original to high-key and light. As I often do, I opened a stock photo in Photoshop, cropped it tightly so that when enlarged to 30"x 42" paper size would be larger than life, and then value-shifted it to dramatize the highlights and give the image a sun-drenched feel. The original photo is on the left, and my cropped and adjusted manquette on the right.


Additionally, I had a trio of colors in mind that I accidentally noticed one early dawn while looking out a hotel window in San Francisco. Daylight was emerging and the murky early morning light threw three colors across a hotel down an alley: a deep purple/brown shadow, a light khaki/lime green mid tone and a light pinkish cream highlight. The shadows came to be known in my mind as a "sickening, dull bruise" and the highlights sort of a "thin, washed out Band-Aid". Here is my sample swatch, which I tape to the easel as an initial guide, but more often than not wind up either forgetting, or simply going in a different direction.

Also, my working manquette had a fairly neutral warmish gray beneath the figure, and a very, very pale pink above. But early on, after I had put in the gray under drawing beneath the figure, I decided to scrub it out and let the figure stretch and float on the white sheet. Needless to say, it took considerable scrubbing, several erasers, and about an hour to remove the unnecessary background. The final drawing is below. Unfortunately, a small digital photo cannot possibly render the subtle colors of the original. I am pleased with the result, particularly the combination of the "adjusted" source photo and the "accidental" color palette.

Fixed.

After ruining my last drawing with an ill-fated exploration into fixative alternatives (see post: The Fix), I somehow felt obligated to re-create the drawing.

As with most of my sources, I did not have a special affinity for this image. As a matter of fact, I had been struggling with it, for various reasons, for some time. But the re-creation process allowed me to see aspects that I had overlooked the first time. I remember reviewing the first version, and noting that aspects to the palette needed changing: add detail, darken or simplify sections, and improve the overall contrast balance.

I am happy with this result. Not only the drawing itself, but the opportunity to re-examine, re-consider, and re-assess with a clearer eye.

The Fix.

For some time, I have been experimenting with alternatives to spray fixatives for pastel. Not only was I looking for an alternative to aerosol lacquer (which is essentially what all fixatives are) but also because of the darkening alterations that occur when you fix a drawing.

I did some research and found several artists who had used clear acrylic medium as a option. So, I chose a recently completed drawing and dove in.

Disaster.

No matter how diligently I tried to use clean brushes, choosing separate ones for highlights and shadows, the medium picked up the pastel and dragged it across into other areas, muddying the entire piece. I let the medium dry for several hours, to no avail. It dried thicker in some areas, and slightly milky. All of the true character of pastel was lost, the drawing reduced to a murky mess. I truly put myself in a "fix" with this one.

Anatomy of A Drawing

Several people have asked about the steps I go though creating a drawing. I always work from photographs. This suits my work style, pace, and schedule, plus I am drawn to the flattening inherent in photos. I almost always use found images or stock photos, highly cropped almost to the point of abstraction. Then I tape the photo to the easel, clamp on a sheet of paper (usually Rives BFK or Crescent board) and do a quick charcoal or gray chalk sketch to roughly indicate shape and general placement of forms. At this point, I am not concerned with detail or color.

Next, I begin blocking in color. I generally have a rudimentary color scheme in mind, often inspired by color combinations I've spotted in nature, fabrics or what have you. But these preliminary colors are not necessarily what the final palette will be.


I start introducing the colors of the final palette, and just let the drawing lead me along.


I smooth as I go, rubbing with either cotton balls, or all too often, my palm. This is one of the reasons I like to work in pastel: the combination of immediate color selection and the tactile nature of drawing yield an immediately rewarding experience.

Using a kneaded eraser, I begin to pull out some highlights, and develop a better balance between highlights and shadow. This is why I really like to use Rives BFK paper. It can withstand a lot of scrubbing and not wear through. Plus, the aggressive abrasion does not raise the surface of the paper noticeably, and I can keep drawing on erased areas.

I've hammered in some shadows and now is the time to step back and just look. One of the best pieces of advice I learned in school was from Jim Storey, who advised "to put the pencil down 5 minutes before you think you are finished". At this point, the drawing is not finished, but it is time to give it a rest, look at it several times with a fresh perspective, and have at it tomorrow.

After giving it some time, I come back to the drawing and darken a few areas, balance out the color a bit, tone down the lower left, which is distracting, and "put the pencil down." One final step is to fix the pastel. Otherwise, it will be difficult and messy to handle and transport. I'll be trying a different technique, and touch upon it in a future post.