TSJ Portrait Workshop: Melissa

Melissa
18 x 24 inches
pencil on paper
about 30 hours

Despite some problems with the drawing, this is probably the best likeness I have ever done. I may have made Melissa look slightly more gaunt and maybe slightly older than she is, but the proportions and placements I feel are pretty reminiscent of her as a specific person.

I feel like Ted's lessons are really starting to sink in, and my drawing is much improved since I started working with him. He's taught me to think of the 3-dimensional forms of what I am looking at (and subforms, and subforms and subforms...), and to try to understand everything in 3 dimensions, instead of just "copying" a pattern of lights and darks. The result is a much more solidly volumetric drawing.

Next week we will be drawing Bridgett, whom I first drew last year, and I can't wait to compare the drawings and see what I have learned.

I've also started experimenting with softer (darker) pencils. I usually use hard pencils, 2H and H, and just gently go over and over to build up the tone. But for this drawing I tried using a combination of 3B and H pencils. I really liked the effect, much larger range of value.

A weird effect is happening in my eyes recently. I am looking very closely at the model, and I guess I am really staring for quite a long time, because sometimes when I look at my paper to draw I am momentarily blinded. Instead of my paper and my drawing, I see the after-effect of the model's image burned into my retinas. It's very disconcerting.

Aside from classwork, this is a sneak preview of what I am working on in my studio right now:

TSJ Portrait Workshop: Melissa's Profile

Melissa's Profile
18 x 24 inches
graphite pencil on paper
about 20 hours

This is the drawing I did the third week of Ted Seth Jacob's portrait drawing class. This doesn't actually look much like Melissa.

TSJ Portrait Workshop: Mona

Mona

18 x 24 inches
graphite pencil on paper
about 40 hours

My second Ted Seth Jacob workshop just finished it's 4th week (of 6) and I thought I would post what I have been working on. This drawing of Mona was from the first 2 weeks of the class.

Most of the students in this workshop were also in last November/December workshop, so Ted is showing us how the principles he taught us for figure drawing apply to portraiture.

I have to say, portraiture is very very hard. Struggling to get a likeness had reduced me nearly to tears more than once these last few weeks.

Ted always says "you must allow yourself to relax and be open and receive all the information coming into your eyes." I really agree, because I'm finding that forcibly trying to spear a likeness instead just chases it away.

Something about the human face makes us even more critical I think. The ability to recognize a face is hard-wired into our brains, and so we all have a highly developed ability to distinguish faces from one another by minute differences. But seeing the inaccuracies and being able to fix them are not the same thing.

White Pitcher with Tulips SOLD

9 x 12, oil on panel

After my little monochromatic studies last week, I decided to try a larger color painting. I painted this over two days, about 3-4 hours per day. The progression is below:

I started with a quick drawing. I spent an hour just doing a basic block-in with pencil on paper, to work out the composition and get the main proportions right. It's tempting to skip this step, but it saves so much time and struggle with the paint later on.

Next I tranferred the drawing to the panel. I use transfer paper, which is a tissue paper with a thin layer of graphite coating one side. I taped my panel to my table, taped a piece of tranfer over that with the graphite-side down, and then I taped down my drawing over it, pressing the corners to match up the drawing to the panel underneath. Then I traced the major lines of my drawing with a hard pencil.


After I transferred my drawing, I went over the faint graphite lines on the panel with a brown extra-fine sharpie. Some people use a quill pen and sepia ink. That's too much work for me, but I would like to find a lighter-colored sharpie.

This is my drawing taped below my panel. The drawing has a lot more detail, so I ended up taping it off to the right so I could see it while I worked on the underpainting.

This is the start of the underpainting using the wipeout method. I used mainly raw umber, with a little ultramarine blue and a little white mixed in. I used a Viva paper towel as a rag to wipe out the white areas. I love Viva paper towels, they are the best for painting - almost as strong as cloth and not many fibers.

More refined stage of the underpainting.


I started adding color. At this point I left the painting for another day.

The second day I just worked at refining my colors and getting more detail. The overall look at this stage was very impressionistic. I was trying not to blend very much, keep the brushtrokes visible. I tried to work from dark areas to light areas, mixing a lot of color into the midtones.

The final painting. I'd like to do just a drapery study sometime, it was really fun. The tulips were ideal flowers because they last a long time and don't change much over a few days. They stayed fresh because my studio is very cold. But as I worked with my space heater turned on, the flowers warmed up and opened. I have no idea how people paint flowers in detail... even stable ones like tulips move too much.

Finally, here's a picture of my current studio setup:

The large white panel at the top is a piece of foamcore I have hung from the ceiling, to block my still life setup from the skylight. The light from the skylight falls on my easel, but not on the still life.

I've lit the still life with my white light "daylight" lamp from the left side. I also tried clamping my palette to my easel, as you can see. I abandoned that after 1 day though, it was annoying. But I hate having one hand occupied holding my palette all the time.

One day I will find the perfect clamp that will hold my palette right where I want it....

Three Little Pitcher Studies

Pitcher Study I
5 x 5 inches, oil on panel

I spent a few days doing these little monochrome studies, to get the feel of the paint again. This was my first - the photo is a bit blurry, but the painting itself is pretty hazy, too. I was concentrating on keeping the paint nice and thin until the very end. I am also trying to leave my edges interesting, showing the layers and brushwork. I used raw umber, ultramarine blue, and white for all of these.

Pitcher Study II
8 x 8 inches, oil on panel

For the next one I started over with the same still life setup but on a larger panel. However I jumped in too fast and I got the paint too thick and I began to struggle with control. Also, this was my first drapery study in paint, and it was hard to work out the drawing aspect of it without doing a sketch first.

Pitcher Study III SOLD
5 x 5 inches, oil on panel

For my third try, I decided to go back to the smaller format and just take my time, go slow, and keep the paint thin as long as possible. I abandoned the drapery since I didn't want to take the time to do a sketch first.

This painting is not much to look at, it's tiny and brown and simple, so maybe no one else can tell what a huge step forward it is for me, but I am thrilled with it. Loose and precise are finding a happy balance here. I am not trying to make the paint do anything, I am letting it be paint.

Few Strokes. Light touch. Focus on the subject.

Few strokes.
Light touch.
Focus on the subject, not the painting.

These are the words I taped to my easel today. I have not touched a brush in 4 months - four months - so I needed to bring some guidance into the studio with me.

Those three points were things I have thought a lot about. The break from painting and the focus on drawing this past fall gave me time to get some distance and think about what I need to work on in the paintings.

Light touch
I have had an over-heavy hand. Especially when I start to get anxious about how the painting is going, I start to apply more and more pressure on the brush. Sargent told a student that the bristles of the brush should never touch the canvas, that there should always be a layer of paint between them.

Few strokes
Another thing I do is labor a painting. I put down paint in haste and spend stroke after stroke "correcting". I was so struck when I saw paintings by Seaton at Arcadia gallery in New York last summer. The reproductions don't show it well, but every mark is distinct. Nothing is blended, each stroke is left to be what it is. Too many brushstrokes in a painting ruin the painterly quality.

Focus on the subject
When a painting is going badly, I find myself looking at the painting a lot more than my subject. Juliette's painting workshop this summer taught me to spend a LOT of time looking at the subject. Slowing down and looking is a natural state for an artist - it's only when I get anxious and "in my head" that I only pay attention to the painting. Attention on the end result is disaster for a painting. A painting is only the evidence left behind after careful looking. I need to focus on the process, not the result.

Even with all this, I needed one more thing to take into the studio with me, one of my favorite quotes:

It is a tremendous act of violence to begin anything. I am not able to begin. I simply skip what should be the beginning.

-- Rainer Maria Rilke

When I found this quote a few years ago I felt such relief to hear the poet capture how I feel about beginnings. It's not enough to say I am often afraid to begin... it actually does feel violent.

So I promised myself all I had to do was get into the studio and make a few monochromatic marks. I wouldn't even attempt color. Just get some paint on the canvas!

Armed with all this I stepped into my chilly little studio, turned on the space heater, and started prying the lids off jars and paint tubes stuck shut for months. I poked around for a while, tidying up, tuning my radio to the classical station, straightening all the still life objects on my shelves, tracking down the good roll of extra-sticky masking tape I keep losing. I found a million things to do but finally my gessoed panel was mounted, my still life set up, blobs of raw umber, ultramarine blue, and white were on my palette, and my favorite set of brushes laid out.

And really, I had a great time. I love to paint! The results aren't really worth posting, just a tiny brown painting of a pitcher, but I just loved feeling the paint again. And I think I made some of my best marks yet - a light touch is the way to go.

More soon!

TSJ Workshop: Reclining Nude II

pencil on paper, 18 x 24 inches

I have now worked on this drawing for 2 weeks, or 10 sessions. See the earlier version here.

I have one more week left, so I have to decide what to do. Do I continue to modify and refine this drawing, or do I start a new one?

I've gotten some great comments from my artists group (we are a group of artists of all kinds, writers, animators, singers, and filmmakers, and we meet monthly to share our latest endeavors over wine and snacks.) Of course they said complimentary things, too, but they very astutely pointed out the places I am struggling.

I need to resolve some issues with her right shoulder, her back, and refine the face & hair a bit more. They loved the elbow, which is one of the last things I worked on, so maybe I will try to apply what I learned there to the back, which I worked on very early in the drawing.

I am really enjoying my workshop with Ted Seth Jacobs, he is teaching me new ways to understand what I am looking at. The elbow in the the above drawing is I think most evident of what I am learning.

Paris, 15 years later

I am very excited to learn that I have been accepted to a figure drawing program in Paris for three weeks in April 08. The course is taught by former students of Ted's who live and teach in France, their school is Studio Escalier. I studied at Parsons Paris for 6 months in college, back in 1993, so I am looking forward to visiting Paris as an art student once again, 15 years after the first time.

Notes from TSJ

I have transcribed some more of my notes from TSJ's teachings. These are some of his overall themes, the ideas he repeats no matter what specifics he is showing us:

"I am not your teacher: nature is your teacher. But you have to have knowledge of the principles of form to understand what nature is showing you. These principles are helpful only as far as they help us see nature. If nature disagrees with a principle, nature is right, the principle is wrong. Nature is our teacher always."

-- Ted Seth Jacobs

Contour

• Contour is not flat, it is moving in 3 dimensions, back and forward
• Every contour on the body is held in a balance of tension between opposing forces.
• Every change in the contour is a result of 3-dimensional form

Light and shadow

• Everything is divided into light and shadow. Always know whether you are working in the shadow or in the light. There is no such thing as “halftone”. There is only:
  Light light
  Dark light
  Light shadow
  Dark shadow
  Accent (the darkest dark)
  

See the model as a flat ribbon of light

• Squint your eyes to simplify the lights and darks
• Don’t worry about highlights, pay attention to the largest masses
  
  Ask yourself:
• Which end is closer to the light source?
• What is the tilt of the ribbon to the light?
• What is the lightest part of the pose?

Model the smaller forms in harmony with the larger value relationships.

Think about the three dimensional forms, not just a two dimensional pattern of lights and darks.

The edge of the shadow (also called the terminator, or core shadow) is not an impenetrable wall, there are forms criss-crossing through it

Shape the light to describe the form;
See what end is wider, which end is narrower; it’s often a “fan” shape, edges are never parallel

Form principles

• Even a concave shape is made up of tiny convex forms
• Each shape is a wedge that interlocks with other wedge shapes
• Find the specialness of each shape
• Make a portrait of each shape

We are not copying: copying is trying to capture what you see without understanding what you are looking at.
We are not representing reality; we are suggesting reality.

Abstractionism, Realism, and Honesty

A very good friend of mine is an abstract painter. We’ve been friends for 12 years now, and I’ve had the privilege of visiting her studio many times.

I know very little about abstract painting, but my friend seems to value my opinion, so she tells me a lot about her thought process, her technique, what she is attempting, whether she feels she fails or succeeds. I am always impressed by both the work itself, and what she puts herself through to make it.

She is as rigorous and self-disciplined as any traditional atelier-trained painter. She continually challenges herself, continuously refines her technique, and never allows herself to rely on cheap flourishes. Nothing is accidental, everything is deeply intentional, and not a mark is made without questioning her own intentions, conscious and unconscious. She has the deepest integrity an artist can have – she is brutally honest with herself. Her paintings are gorgeous and moving on every level.

However, as we talk about art, we sometimes come up against a wall, the divide between realists and abstractionists. Our visual goals as artists are quite different.

There is a huge division between the world of abstract painters, who are concerned with surface, and the world of realist painters, who are concerned with illusion. Interestingly, both sides would probably use the word “decorative”, with a sneer, to describe the other.

When I hear realist artists deride abstract artists, or vice versa, I wonder why each threatens the other so much. Both sides tend to cite the worst or most extreme examples of the other to characterize these two large and varied movements.

Many artists on both sides are doing the hard work of excavating truth. On the other hand, in both realist and abstract art, there are dishonest artists. Dishonest artists make paintings with the main goal of shoring up their ego, instead of the goal of revealing truth, connecting with the universal.

When evaluating art, whether realist or abstract, I ask myself "is the artist being honest with herself?" Everything comes into focus when this question is asked.

Derision tells us nothing about the art and everything about the critic.

Whether abstract or realist, only honesty counts.

TSJ Workshop - Reclining Nude I

18 x 24 inches, pencil on paper

We are now in the 4th week of Ted Seth Jacobs' drawing workshop at BACAA.

This week we started drawing a 3-week pose. Today is the 4th day, and I spent the first 3 1/2 days struggling with the block-in. I don't know what it is, something about the leaning tilt, but it is an incredibly difficult gesture to capture. I erased and started again a half-dozen times. But practicing a block-in is a good exercise, so the time was well spent although I don't have much to show for it.

This is an interesting stage of the drawing, because you can see the earliest marks of my block-in, especially at the feet, as well as the more polished part by the shoulders.

While I draw I repeat in my head over and over "rounding and ending", which I described here. The practice of thinking about the three-dimensionality of each protrusion is a a new technique for me. Also, being conscious about which sides of a shadow are soft, and which sides are crisp is really helpful. Repeating "rounding and ending, rounding and ending" helps me remember.

I have also been thinking a lot about how to paint and draw nudes, especially female nudes, without relying on a traditional idea of beauty as a hook. I think about how to depict an individual without reducing her to an idea of a woman. There is so much history to contend with, it's hard to resist. The temptation is to emphasize her beauty. Especially because this model is tall and slim and attractive, and especially because she has been arranged in a classical pose.

My goal is to try to depict her as a real, breathing human being. Let's see how I do.

Perception and Distortion

What we think we see is very different from the raw data that hits our retina. Our brains warp and remodel everything we see to fit into what we think we know about the world.

By the time an image has been projected onto our retina, has stimulated the appropriate light-receiving cells, has transferred visual data to our brain, has been interpreted at base-level cortex and higher-thinking cognitive levels of our minds, has been categorized, compared to what we already know, and emotionally processed, by the time all this has happened, what we think we “see” has been interpreted and distorted and edited so to have nothing to do with the original beams of light that entered our corneas. The original data has been distorted; not distorted “beyond recognition” but distorted TO recognition.

The artist must learn to recognize these distortions and exorcise them, or use them. When we look at our own work and are not happy with what we see, we are becoming aware of our unconscious distortions. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, but it helps us learn. We must learn to recognize and edit out unconscious distortions, and learn how to present truly “raw” data to the viewer, just as real life presents raw data.

This is not to promote what is commonly called “slavish copying.” Artists can and should choose to distort the image, choose what to emphasize, choose what to leave out, choose to guide the viewer. But any distortion has to be intentional, deliberate.

Even abstract artists I know talk of trying to become aware of the unconscious associations, influences, references and baggage visible in their art. They attempt to only present visual information with intention.

Lack of intention, or ignorance on the part of the artist is always painfully obvious to the viewer, consciously or subconsciously, and detracts from their experience of a work of art.

The pursuit of art is learning to throw away unconscious distortions and replace them with conscious choices.

Kind of like life.

Talent is a Myth

People have told me I have “talent” all my life. Maybe I do have some. But all “talent” ever did for me was make me able to draw a marginally better bunny rabbit than my classmates in second grade. The difference between a “talented” seven-year old’s drawing of a bunny and another kid’s drawing of a bunny is minimal. They are both seven.

Everything after that is sheer work. Sheer number of hours spent putting pencil to paper or brush to canvas. Sheer practice. It’s an enjoyable kind of "work", but it is still work. I draw marginally well because I drew every day between age 3 and age 21. If you did anything every day for 18 years, you would have some degree of ability.

It’s not talent.

Talent is a myth.

The myth of talent cripples.

We like to think of artists being born, being magical, special, different. Once we think of ourselves as “artists”, it makes everything we do have a special weight: The weight of having to prove that you are a “real artist’ with everything you do. There is little room for error. Creating a “bad” work of art throws artists into despair. They feel they are not “really” an artist.

No one is “really” an artist. The people who work hard at their craft every day for years and years get better at it than those who don’t.

I can be stymied by the imagined imperative that everything I create, every mark I make, must indicate my unique, intelligent and inherent talent, and any failure reveals a lack of uniqueness. If I spend my time evaluating myself, there is a defensiveness that obscures the art. Defensiveness makes art that is fearful. Defensiveness makes art that “protests too much.”

To truly learn, and to truly create, we must shed all ego. The idea that “I am an artist” must go out the window. The wondering “am I good” must be driven out of our heads. Just keep going, don’t stop, don’t look back, don’t evaluate, just produce.

Don’t wonder if you have talent, or insist you have talent, or hope you have talent, or beg your teachers or peers or critics to tell you that you have talent. Don’t despair when you realize you have no talent. Talent is a myth.

Work hard at your art. Then you will be a true artist.

TSJ Workshop: Head Study Day II

Looking at anyone from this angle makes their face look wide and their nose upturned... but Melissa does not have a wide face nor an upturned nose. I think in this version she looks more like herself than in the previous session, where she looked like some sort of plump Swiss Miss character.

Ted has been teaching us about "rounding and ending" a shadow. This is where a shadow is shaped by the light falling over the rounded edge of a form, which makes a soft gradated edge. Then the shadow ends in a crease, a hard edge, before the next rounded form begins.

This hard edge is eventually slightly softened through "knitting" the two forms together, but the basic idea is seeing where the shadows have soft edges (over a curved surface) and where they have firm edges (at the crease between two forms).

You can see this most explicitly at the hollow in Melissa's upturned cheek. (It's even more exaggerated in this photo of the drawing, and I will say, it's very frustrating to work for two days to calculate every value, just to have it all destroyed in the photo!).

Anyway, you can see how the shadow rounds down off the hight point of her cheekbone, and falls into the crevice above her jawbone - "rounding and ending". I tried to practice this all over the drawing.

At this stage (about 7 hours into it) the forms are all still generalized, but if I had more time with this pose I would go further and see how many sub-forms I can find.

Had fun with the hand and it went very quickly - I did most of it in just two 20-minute sessions. You can see the "rounding and ending" concept over the tip of the index finger quite clearly, too.

TSJ Workshop: Head Study

pencil on paper, 3 hour pose

I decided to try a new drawing of just the model's face and hand these last two days of the pose.

Something is not quite right... the angle is difficult, but I was hoping to catch more of a likeness, and this doesn't look much like Melissa. I'll try to discover what is wrong tomorrow.

TSJ Workshop: Melissa Day 5

pencil on paper, 12 x 18 inches, detail
Day 5

See earlier stages of this drawing here

Next week is short because of the holiday, so I'll only have two more days on this pose. I think I am done with this drawing, so I may start a new one just of her head and maybe her right hand near her face. It would be fun to try the face larger and with more detail. Not often I get an angle like this to work from.

Ted's comments are that I am making things "too straight" (like the shadow on the thigh, or the top edge of the calf). Which makes sense, because I have been practicing a straight-line block-in all year!

But I can see that Ted is right - the body feels more real, specific, organic and yes, organized, when all the compound curves are articulated: muscles wrap around bone, the bone itself is thick and thin and twisted, irregular wedges notch into asymmetrical arches; nothing is constant or machined.

On the other hand, it's very hard to get accurate proportion without focusing a good amount of time and attention on a straight-line block-in at the beginning. I would say it's impossible. After this year's training, I can always tell if someone is NOT using a block-in.

My idea is melding the two approaches. Blocking-in with straight lines to get all the tilts and distances to be accurate. Then using Ted's way of seeing to express the myriad organic structures that make up the whole form.

TSJ Workshop: Melissa Day 3

pencil on paper, 12 x 18 inches, detail
Day 3

This is the drawing I am working on right now during Ted Seth Jacobs' 6-week figure drawing workshop. This is day 3 of a 10-day pose. You can see earlier stages of the drawing here.

I have blocked in the general proportions, refined the contour, and lightly sketched the main shadows. Now I am trying to create the smaller forms according to the philosophy Ted has been teaching us.

In the mornings, Ted draws from the model for us and demonstrates all the forms and sub-forms he sees on the model. He shows us how everything fits together, interlocks, and how the individual forms describe pathways along the body to create a network of structure.

I am trying to do the same in my drawing. Ted is teaching me how to see how gravity and pressure affect the masses of the body, and it is giving the figure more weight and substance. I think you can see the difference in my earlier drawing of Melissa I did last March.

Obviously the earlier drawing is of a very different pose, but you can see the forms are more simplified and generalized; less specific, and more "floaty".

In contrast, I feel like the models' legs in this drawing are pressing on the surface and on each other.

Seven more days drawing this pose, stay tuned :)

Studio Video Tour

Take a tour of my little art studio!

Sorry no music or real sound - yes my husband is a filmmaker, but he's is working 12-hour days this week (on special effects for the new SpeedRacer movie), so he hasn't had time to teach me any video editing skillz.

TSJ Workshop: Melissa, Day 1 and Day 2

pencil on paper, 12 x 18 inches, detail
Day 2

Block-in stage
Day 1

This is the drawing I am working on in Ted Seth Jacobs' workshop. This will be a 2-week pose, so I am trying to take my time. After I refined the block-in, I focused mainly on the feet. I'll move to other areas each day.

(You can see Ted's sketches of the structure of the foot and head in the top image, which he drew for me when he came around to critique my drawing.)

I have lots of notes from the last few days, will write them up soon!

American Artist Drawing Magazine

The Fall 2007 issue of American Artist: Drawing magazine has a twelve page article all about BACAA, and my artwork is featured in the article! There are photos of me working on my cast drawing, and my drawing of Caroline is published as well. I am also quoted throughout the article.

The print magazine is available at art supply stores and large bookstores, and you can read the full article online here!

TSJ on "Structure"

graphite on paper (detail)

18 x 24 inches, graphite on paper

Ted lectures in the mornings, and in the afternoons we draw from the model.

Below I've summarized some of his concepts and diagrammed my drawing to show how I am attempting to apply his techniques:

Contours, (the visible "lines"), are affected by the bulges and masses which make up the structure of the body. There are NO concave lines, because the human body is full and has volume. Even very slender people have substantial mass and volume. A concave contour is actually made up of a series of small convex forms.

I've traced the contour lines I drew as they enter the body and correspond to interior structural masses.

These contour lines are arranged, visibly or invisibly, along the body. The structural masses are arranged along these pathways, making a basketweave pattern throughout the form (under and over, in a network).

Structures of the body are arranged in "families" of forms. Each structure has a rounded shape, growing darker as it turns away from the light.


The darkest edge of a form usually ends just before the lightest edge of the next structure, creating a layering of forms and sub-forms.


Ted on Organization of the Body:

The hallmark of the classical approach to drawing is that nature is organized.

Everything is designed with an economy of space, form, and function.

Features of the body are never like snowballs thrown on randomly.

See every point in relationship to the whole; nothing is in the right place until everything is.


Ted on "Structural Pathways"

All the forms of the body are arranged on curving pathways, never straight or angular.

These pathways create a network, like a hairnet.

Pathways exist in 3 dimensions like a basketweave - sometimes on the surface, sometimes burrowing underneath.

Pathways exist in two sets of arches, some arching up and some arching down.


Ted on Structural Forms:

Structure is a vocabulary of forms.

Shapes grow on the body outwards: ample, convex, superimposed, smaller in top of each other.

Universal structural shapes are modified by gesture: squashed, stretched, twisted.

Sometimes forms are so modified they are unrecognizable.

See how these structures are perceived through the actions of light.

Forms are layered - every form can be reduced to its underlying mass.

The body is not a smooth surface, it is made up of specific shapes, it is "particulate".

Train your eye to see the "specialness" of each individual shape.

Continuity - everything in the body connects in a fluid, continuous manner.

Contour reflects the 3-dimensional structure of the form.


Ted on Perception:

Monocular vision (like a camera, or closing one eye) has less perception of form - two eyes "wrap" around the form.

Don't use tools like plumb lines and measuring rods - make yourself the measuring instrument.

Only one point of your subject is NOT foreshortened, the point directly in line from your eye. All other points on the subject are forshortened to a greater or lesser degree.

Drawing is all about recording what you see without being distracted by the symbolic, verbal, abstract symbols of what you are seeing (like the almond/dot egyptian symbol for "eye", which has nothing to do with what a real eye looks like).


My current favorite quote from Ted:
"Drawing is an exercise in human fallibility - it shows how wrong we can be."

Ted Seth Jacobs - Figure Workshop

This week I've begun Ted Seth Jacobs' 6-week figure drawing workshop, offered through the Bay Area Classical Artist Atelier.

So far I have come up with this summary of my impression of Ted's method for figure drawing. (Note: This is my impression, and not a direct quote, he may describe it differently):

The human body is an organized, "designed" system of interlocking structures.

This interlocking system as a whole is affected by the downward pull of gravity, and also by the upward pressures of supports.

The whole or the parts can be seen as being pulled and pushed, resulting in draping (like a suspension bridge) and bulging.

Pressure from supports (like a chair, etc) makes the masses of the body take on the characteristics of the underlying support.

Ted draws figures with all curved lines. He feels that sharp corners are antithetical to life, and would result in "starvation, disease, and death!" (he says with a deep ominous tone, and then a chuckle).

As you can imagine, I am having a hard time reconciling this, considering I have spent most of 2007 studying a more formal, straight-edged block-in method.

But I believe there is a correlation between the two approaches - both are investigations into the underlying system. One uses perfect arcs and straight lines, the other uses undulating curves. But both are looking for the structure, the system, the truth, the architecture, the energy of the human form.

Ted looks for lines of action, grouped in "families" of similar directions. He teaches us that every contour (visible line) is in direct relationship to these invisible lines of movement.

Today he drew a demo for us of Bouguereau's Pieta at the Legion of Honor museum here in San Francisco. This is my approximation of some of the relationships he diagrammed for us:


Below, the more formal/rigid analysis I've been practicing these last few months. I try to find main angles that repeat in parallel all over the form. The angel of the jaw as it correlates to the angle of the ankle, and everything between.


And this last one is for fun - it's more about the composition and architecture of the entire painting, versus the structure of a single figure. It's fascinating to find these diagrams in a painting, so clear and yet hidden at first glance. We feel it before we see it:


As a final note: My favorite concept so far from Ted:
"The simplest definition of a 'gesture' is an action showing intention, or desire."

Pewter on Plastic

9 x 12 inches, graphite pencil on paper

The scan does not capture the subtlety of the graphite, but you get the general idea.

My goal with this still life drawing was to make a more dramatic composition and attain a sense of depth. Compared to my previous attempts (scroll down to see my other recent still life drawings) I think I did a better job of making an engaging image. But still not quite there yet.

I also experimented with making fine white marks with the eraser into the graphite, and alternating those marks with layers of crosshatching, to create a more interesting and complex surface. You can see it especially on the main body of the pewter pitcher, which I built up with layers of knitted marks.

After Michaelangelo's Sibyl

Sketch after Michaelangelo's Study for the Libyan Sibyl
12 x 16 inches, graphite pencil on paper

Last month on my trip to New York I was able to see the original of this drawing in the study room of the Met. The mere 40 minutes I was able to look at the original drawing (and the fact that I was a bit overwhelmed being in the presence of it) made it impossible to do a satisfactory study of it.

So I bought a reproduction at the Met gift shop, and this week I did this study of it. I spent about 8 hours on this.

I am so amazed by the organized matrix of systems that make up a human being. I say "matrix" because every part is interrelated to every other part, like a grid. To put any landmark in the wrong position skews every other landmark in the drawing.

And of course Michaelangelo designs his drawing to illustrate these relationships. Copying his drawing is like watching a chess player think.

For fun I've diagrammed some of the relationships I found:

If I draw lines following the axis of each hand, as if she is balancing rods across the heels of each palm, you can see that these two lines can be repeated all over the body, connecting everything in a system:

Another thing I look for is verticals. When we draw, we tend to put things where we think they are. The twisted position in this drawing makes it even more complicated to capture the gesture, because we tend to want to exaggerate the twist, or "untwist" the form while we draw:

To fight against this habit of untwisting or over-twisting, I drop vertical imaginary plumb lines and keep them in mind for lining up landmarks. Glancing at this image quickly, I never would have guessed that the ear is directly over the top left corner of the pelvis, or that the back contour of the back is almost a perfect vertical.

This is the sketch I did at the Met in front of the original drawing. Although it looks clunky and angular, I used the same method for both drawings. I don't draw any curves, I just keep segmenting the straight lines.

I wanted to see how I did on the fast drawing in the Met, so I colored it red and superimposed it over my longer study. I did pretty well in the fast sketch after all. In fact, I made the same mistake twice, but corrected it in the longer sketch!

You can see how the fast sketch (in red) has the left arm too far over to the left. I did the same thing on the longer sketch, but later realized my mistake and adjusted it back over to the right, fairly far into the drawing.

I think I did that twice because I see the head as positioned between the two hands, so I unconsciously tried to center it between the two hands. In reality, it is much closer to the left hand.

Self Portrait Sketch

9 x 12 inches, graphite pencil on paper

I haven't done a self portrait in about 15 years. That's almost half my lifetime ago. But it was a nice challenging exercise, and the model is very obliging (and cheap), so I'll probably do another one, maybe even within 15 years.

Pewter Pitcher and Grapes Drawing

8 x 10, graphite pencil on paper

earlier block-in stage of the same drawing

My conflict recently is whether to spend my time on exercises and studies, or to try to create finished paintings to the best of my current ability.

The conflict is that working on exercises makes me feel like time is rushing by me while I piddle around and have little to show or sell. But then, painting "finished" pieces always makes me realize how much better I would be if I had spent more time studying drawing, or value, or color, or form as a discrete problems instead of tackling everything at once in a painting.

I have a feeling this is something I will struggle with my whole life.



Thought I would share my latest version of my still-life setup, which has evolved to be somewhat elaborate recently:

I want a more direct, artificial light to fall on my still life so I can see stronger shadows. So I tacked a big piece of white foamcore to hang down from my skylight. The white, general light still falls on my easel, while the the still life is shaded from the skylight, and lit by a little incandescent light on a flexible arm.

I also was struggling to hold up a cardboard viewfinder while I am blocking in the composition. So I set up an extra easel and clamped my viewfinder to it. If I position everything perfectly, I can see my still life setup framed perfectly in the viewfinder, and without turning my head significantly I can also see my easel, and even reach it with my pencil if I am lucky.

It takes a lot of shifting around to get the right position of the viewer, the easel, and my own head, but once it's set up it makes everything so much easier.

Peeled Lemon II

8 x 10 inches, graphite pencil on paper

earlier stage of the same drawing

After seeing all those Dutch paintings this summer I feel strangely tempted to tackle dewy fruit and reflective goblets and glass flutes and heavy satin cloth....

I have cut up and peeled nearly a dozen lemons to get the perfect twisted peel and correct lemon shape for these two drawings. The fruit flies are loving my studio these days.