Drawing with ink and brush is more like ice skating than it is like walking. The lack of friction frees the movement to express the bliss of bodily momentum, making great looping explorations of space. Smaller strokes can zigzag or oscillate. If you think of the large flowing lines as low frequencies and the small vibrating ones as high frequencies, there’s a kind of musical sense of harmony and timbre going on in these ink brush drawings.
Equus, 2010, by Fred Hatt
Because of my regular practice of life drawing, all the lines I make have the curves of organic forms and the energy of living movement.
Leaping, 2010, by Fred Hatt
Sometimes Asian calligraphy shows this kind of loose, dashing, impulsive stroke. The drawing above is inspired by looking at people dancing. The simple brush strokes suggest figures but communicate their energy while only suggesting their form. The drawing below uses the same simplified strokes but is drawn more slowly and composed more consciously. Here you can make out many figures and fragments of figures. Some of the brush strokes may belong to more than one figure.
Community, 2010, by Fred Hatt
Combining the musical abstract approach and the calligraphic figurative approach produces more ambiguous images. I often like to keep the figurative elements of the drawing from getting too specific. Something that can be read in more than one way is more evocative.
Leda, 2010, by Fred Hatt
Every vertebrate is a snake at its core. Sometimes in movement we can experience a hint of that slippery freedom.
Sinuosity, 2010, by Fred Hatt
Smooth and constant motion is inertia, the same as stillness. We experience movement only through changes in direction or through acceleration or deceleration. As in every aspect of experience, change is fundamental.
Breast Momentum, 2010, by Fred Hatt
All of these ink drawings were made at GreenSpace in Queens, New York, during their Cross Pollination events, open sessions where the studio is made available for free improvised music, dance and art. The drawings are infused with the energy of the music I’m hearing or the moving bodies I’m watching, or from my own movement, as I tend to alternate dancing and drawing. The movment is too quick to allow for the kind of figure drawing I practice regularly in timed sessions with models, so these drawings usually go more abstract.
Black Sun, 2010, by Fred Hatt
The energy flows in from the music and dance, and manifests in the movement of the hand and brush. Another factor, one that becomes increasingly dominant as the page becomes filled with marks, is an intuitive sense of composition, a feel for dynamic asymmetrical balance in the plane of the drawing, balance of light and heavy, simple and complex.
Irrigation, 2010, by Fred Hatt
The elemental forces of the world are constantly moving and changing. We move to be a part of the process, and we draw to trace its fleeting passage in a lasting form. Cycles within cycles, changes upon changes, make a world, a life, a body of work.
Sky God, 2010, by Fred Hatt
All of these drawings are ink on paper, 18″ x 24″. Other drawings from the Cross Pollination sessions can be seen in these posts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Artist's Portfolio Pages, 2000, by Fred Hatt (click to enlarge)
I’ve been focused recently on selecting portfolio samples of my work. Last week I put together the 2011 calendar featured in the previous post, and this week I prepared my regular application for the NYFA (New York Foundation for the Arts) Fellowship, in the “Printmaking/Drawing/Book Arts” category. Nearly every artist in the State of New York applies for the NYFA Fellowship, since it’s a relatively simple application and if you get it it’s a few thousand bucks you can spend however you see fit. I’ve applied many times over the years and never gotten it, and the same is true of most of the artists I know. (One of my friends, figurative artist Susan M. Berkowitz, won the award a couple of years ago.) The odds are a bit long, but not as long as winning a big Lotto jackpot.
Anyway, for the NYFA Fellowship in the visual arts categories you submit eight jpegs that the panel views four at a time, projected on side-by-side digital projectors. The artist selecting work has to decide what kind of presentation will work with this viewing format, while taking into account that the panelists will be seeing thousands of images in a first-cut round that must be rather grueling.
The standard advice is to show a highly consistent selection of pieces. Too much variation will probably be seen as “student work”. Now this is exactly the opposite of the approach I took in selecting pieces for my calendar. There I selected for diversity. My idea was that by showing a variety of media and styles together, the underlying approach, the sense of energy that all the pieces have in common, would shine through. [I took a similar approach in the two-page portfolio and statement from ten years ago, pictured at the top of this post.]
I’ll let you tell me whether you think that strategy worked in the calendar selections. I’m fairly certain it wouldn’t have worked for the NYFA application. They segregate by medium, for one thing, so photography and drawing are seen by different panels, and I don’t think body painting really fits into any of their categories. For NYFA, I selected a coherent and stylistically unified set of large color drawings. Whether they’ll make a good impression when they come up in the numbing procession of images, and whether the particular panelists will respond positively to them, is anybody’s guess.
Picasso desktop wallpaper from brothersoft.com
Going through these decisions got me thinking about the question of diversity of style and media in an artist’s work. Many of our most revered artists crossed those lines all the time. Picasso changed style and medium more often than he changed mistresses. Cocteau, Warhol, Kiki Smith, and just about every really interesting artist you can think of refused to be boxed in by notions of consistency. All of them wanted to show that the essence of their work transcended medium and style.
Somehow, though, the institutional art world wants to define things by exactly the same lines these artists insisted on coloring outside of. Grants, group shows, festivals and arts organizations are nearly always defined by some combination of medium, nationality/ethnicity/identity group, and/or some notion of genre such as “minimalism” or “outsider art”. An artist who paints, makes films, does installations and writes songs risks being seen as a dilettante or as undisciplined.
Some of this is unavoidable. “Art” is such a nebulous and ever-expanding field of human experience that you have to draw some lines somewhere if you are going to study it or curate it. I’m just one of those artists, and there are many of us, who naturally respond to boundaries by wanting to cross them. Indeed, “blurring the boundaries” has become one of the enduring clichés of contemporary artspeak.
In recent decades high-end contemporary art has been increasingly marketed as an “ultraluxe” fashion statement for the fabulously wealthy, that also happens to be a potentially lucrative investment. Dealers and collectors of important contemporary artists want something readily identifiable, a clear and unmistakable signature style. Why pay the big bucks for an original Koons if everyone that walks into your place doesn’t immediately recognize it as such? And of course the dealers lower down on the art food chain aspire to emulate this approach and tend to discourage broadness and experimentation in the artists they represent.
Michael Jackson and Bubbles, by Jeff Koons, 1988
I just don’t roll that way, and maybe I do lack the discipline and persistence that some of the big name artists bring to their work. I’m in awe of the amount of work and networking it must have taken Matthew Barney to create the Cremaster Cycle, consisting of five very non-mainstream feature films plus performances and sculptures and an elaborate personal mythology. He sold his boundary-crossing mega-opus by making it so big and compelling it couldn’t be ignored.
I’ve pretty much done art for my own pleasure and satisfaction. I’ve never seen a clear path to making big bucks or getting a big name without somehow betraying what I feel is the essence of it. It’s my path, my exploration of the world. For me it’s more about asking questions than it is about making big statements. It’s important to me to keep pushing it in different directions and manifesting it in different forms.
This blog is the best venue I’ve ever found for sharing my work with anyone who might be interested in it. Here I can show the full diversity of my practice. I can present it in different ways and highlight different facets of it every week. I can put drawings, photography, video, and ideas in one place. Of course it doesn’t make any money, but it doesn’t really cost much either, except for a significant investment of my time.
I appreciate all of you who read this blog, because art can be a solitary pleasure but it gains an absolutely essential dimension when it becomes communication. Thank you for reading, thank you for commenting, and thank you for sharing my work with others!
The images in this post that are not my own were found on the web. Clicking on them links to the sites where they were found.
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Happy Thanksgiving and Blessed Solstice, and Happy Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanzaa/Yule/Festivus/Saturnalia/New Year or whatever you celebrate!
Far Side of the Moon with Flanking Figures, 2010, by Fred Hatt
I made these two large reclining nudes, each one 48″ x 30″, with the idea that they would be flanking figures, a human frame for some significant object or image. They could be on either side of a mirror or a portrait or a proscenium stage. They could be facing center or away from center. For me these figures have a lunar quality, so here I have used them to bracket an image of the far side of the moon.
[Tangent: The far side of the moon was a complete mystery before the era of space flight, as the moon always turns the same face towards Earth, and of course people imagined that it hid alien civilizations or other exotic marvels. Even now this distant hemisphere is unfamiliar to most of us. The far side of the moon is mountainous and heavily pocked with craters, and lacks the great “seas” or mare that give the near face the dark patches that we see as the man in the moon, the rabbit, or whatever it is supposed to resemble. The face that is turned away can be a symbol of the unseen aspect of things. Here is an interactive map of both sides of the moon, and here’s the source for the moon map used in the illustration at the top of this post.]
Allegorical flanking figures of this sort are a fusty old iconographic tradition. The ones I had in mind were the figures of Dawn and Dusk on the tomb of Lorenzo de’ Medici, in the Medici Chapel in the Basilica of San Lorenzo in Florence, designed and sculpted by Michelangelo. The chapel also features a similar idealized portrait of Giuliano de’ Medici, accompanied by figures called Night and Day. These nudes, named as embodiments of cycles of nature and shown reclining at the feet of the enthroned noblemen, exalt their central figures by portraying them as masters over Nature itself. Those Medicis were as self-aggrandizing as Trump!
Tomb of Lorenzo de' Medici, c. 1530, by Michelangelo
This kind of arrangement of human images embodying abstract concepts became a standard trope in public art. Here are the figures over the entrance to the Old Bailey, the Central Criminal Court in London, by sculptor F.W. Pomeroy. In the middle is the Recording Angel, lurking under a hood and looking far more intimidating than most of the court stenographers I’ve seen. On the left is Fortitude, with a sword, and on the right, Truth, with a mirror.
Allegorical Figures, Old Bailey Central Criminal Court, London, 1907, sculptures by F. W. Pomeroy
Allegorical flanking figures became such a cliché in the depiction of official power that they are a frequent feature of the engraved headings of stock certificates, such as this one for Shell Oil, Inc.
Shell Oil Company stock certificate engraving, 1975
The tradition probably originates with Medieval Heraldry. A coat of arms often shows a shield with symbolic emblems or colors, held up on either side by what some cultures would call power animals, such as Great Britain’s lion and unicorn. Here’s a lovely new variation on the theme, the official coat of arms of Nunavut, the Inuit province of Northern Canada. The symbolic animals are the caribou and the narwhal.
Coat of Arms of the Province of Nunavut, Canada
Christian religious painting also frequently includes figures flanking a central personage. The sidekicks may be angels, saints, or the donor who funded the artwork. It naturally occurs in crucifixions, in which Jesus is often shown between the two crucified thieves, as in this Mantegna painting.
Crucifixion, 1459, by Andrea Mantegna
Raphael omitted the thieves, but framed Jesus between two angels, representations of the sun and moon, and one kneeling and one standing figure on each side. Clearly the idea here is to convey the centrality of the Christ.
Crucifixion, 1503. by Raphael
I can’t tell you why I was drawn to such a thoroughly old-fashioned figurative motif. I suppose applying my loose and energetic style to neoclassical subject matter seemed an interesting variation on improvised compositions and experimental process. Here are some closer looks at these two drawings. The models are Yuko and Jeremiah. Let me know if you have anything that needs to be exalted by being displayed in between allegorical figures!
Waning Moon, 2009, by Fred Hatt
Waxing Moon, 2010, by Fred Hatt
My works shown here are aquarelle drawings on black paper, each 48″ high by 30″ wide. All the other images were found on the web, and clicking on the images will take you to the sites where I found them.
As a kid, I was a big fan of Batman, both in the comics and the campy TV show starring Adam West. One of Batman’s many cool tools was the bright yellow utility belt, keeping crime-fighting implements close at hand. Batman’s utility belt was a fantasy version of the duty belt that police officers all over the world use to keep hands free and tools within reach while walking a beat or chasing down suspects.
Police Duty Belt, from Merriam Webster Visual Dictionary Online
The tool belts used by construction carpenters and electricians are among the most elaborate types of utility belts. There are so many tools one might need at any moment, and you can’t just set your hammer down if you’re standing on a peaked roof.
Carpenter's Tool Belt
Pro photographers on location always have a plethora of gadgets and accessories. Not only are they easier to find quickly in a photographer’s vest than in a camera bag, but the weight is more evenly distributed on the body than when everything’s in a shoulder bag.
Safari Photographer's Vest
Hikers and bikers have to carry the items they need in the most efficient way possible. You can’t have things dangling or interfering with your freedom of movement.
Mountain Biker's Belt
A makeup artist often has to work standing up, touching up a model or actor on the set. An apron with pockets keeps brushes and supplies accessible and keeps you from getting makeup all over your pants.
Makeup Artist's Brush and Tool Apron
A full bib apron combines many of the advantages of a belt or waist apron and a vest: easy access to tools, comfortable weight distribution, and clothing protection.
Gardener's Apron
I’ve taken to wearing a short waist apron with pockets whenever I’m out and about in the city. I use it to carry everyday practical items and tools I use in my freelance jobs. It’s easy to repurpose the pockets to carry art supplies, photography accessories, or travel stuff like reading material and earplugs.
Fred Hatt wearing his everyday utility belt
I started using this apron when I was at the festivals at Brushwood Folklore Center, where I often do body painting and teach workshops. In that setting, I usually wear a wrap skirt rather than pants, and the there was a need for pockets. The black canvas apron filled the bill, like a sporran with a kilt. I can’t remember where or when I originally got it, but mine is made by McGuire-Nicholas Workwear. Below is a typical arrangement of the apron for everyday use:
Fred Hatt's utility belt with contents labeled
I have a camera always ready at hand for the kind of street photography I often post in this blog. I have my digital voice recorder that I use to record thoughts, ideas and info while on the go, and to keep track of my expenditures. The flashlight and tools are often needed when I’m working in a theater or on a photo or video shoot. The monocular is a small telescope, useful for fine-focusing projections from a distance, another type of work I do. An umbrella can be tucked in behind the waistband of the apron. Everything is right where I can reach for it without thinking, and I keep my hands free.
I know this post is a bit of a departure for this blog, but I often write about the techniques and the creative process of drawing and photography. Every artist needs good tools and supplies and equipment, and part of the artist’s journey of discovery is figuring out what items work well and how best to organize and maintain them. All artists and craftsmen love their tools. I hope this will be of interest to some of my readers. I’ve created a new post category, “Tools and Materials”. Please let me know if there are specific things along these lines you’d like me to post about.
The illustrations here were found on the web. Click on any of the pictures above to link to the source of the image, excepting the last two, which are my own photographs.