DRAWING LIFE by fred hatt

2010/02/18

Womb of Art: Paleolithic Masterpieces

Detail of the Lion Panel of Chauvet Cave, France, fig. 84 from "Dawn of Art: The Chauvet Cave" by Chauvet, Deschamps & Hillaire

These lions look so full of life they might at any moment pounce on their prey.  This is a small detail from the “Lion Panel”, an expansive composition featuring dozens of animals, discovered in 1994 in a cave in southeastern France.  Across a huge cave wall with a niche in the center, the lions appear to be stalking herds of rhinos, mammoths and bulls.  The realism is classical, the scale and energy modern, yet radiocarbon dating has proven this magnificent work is approximately thirty thousand years old!  The mastery displayed here makes a mockery of the concept of “primitive” art.

It has been barely a hundred years since scientists have agreed that the paintings in certain caves are the work of artists of the paleolithic or old stone age, the end of the last glacial period, when homo sapiens coexisted with Neanderthal people and the kind of herds we associate with the African veldt roamed Europe.  In 1879 the nine year old daughter of amateur Spanish archaeologist Sautuola discovered the magnificent murals of Altamira cave, but it took over twenty years before the scholarly establishment accepted the prehistoric origin of the paintings.

Since then, academics have disputed about the meaning and motivation of these works.  In The Mind in the Cave:  Consciousness and the Origins of Art, David Lewis-Williams, a scholar specializing in ancient rock art, argues that the paintings in the paleolithic caves are the product of shamanic vision quests.  These are not the kind of caves some people lived in, but deep caverns requiring significant effort to penetrate.  Inside these spaces there is no external light or sound.  The paintings may record visions arising from ordeal and sensory deprivation.  Ancient footprints found in the caves show that children accompanied adults into the caves, so the exhibition of the artwork by dim and flickering lamplight may have been a kind of initiation.

Most visual art associated with present-day hunting and gathering cultures is highly stylized, relying on abstract conventions that represent things conceptually rather than accurately following their appearance.  In contrast, the paleolithic art is remarkable for its realism.  Obviously those animals were not posing for the artists inside the caves, but the confident rendering of lifelike animal contours convinces me that these artists were well practiced in observational drawing.  The caves may be significant not as the place of origin of art, but as the place of its preservation, as there must have been an abundance of art outside the caves that did not survive.

I’ll refrain from engaging the scholarly arguments here, and just share a few samples of visual art of the European Paleolithic that speak to me across the millennia, revealing the timeless qualities of great work.  These images come from books in my personal library, and I hope the copyright holders will not mind my sharing them with you.  Altamira, mentioned above, is the source of this exuberant galloping horse:

Galloping Horse, original painting in red, copied by Abbé Henri Breuil, fig. 130 from "Art in the Ice Age" by Maringer and Bandi

This painting has the lightness and simplicity of the loose brushwork of Asian painters grounded in calligraphy and taoism or zen.

This back-biting bison carving, from Trois-Frères Cave in France could be mistaken for a Picasso:

Bison sculpture in reindeer antler, from La Madeleine, France, fig. 44 from "Art in the Ice Age" by Maringer and Bandi

The Cave of Trois-Frères in France is famous for a human-animal hybrid image known as “The Sorcerer“.  It also has a magnificent complex herd scene with at least forty-five animals, densely overlapping, all of them individually expressed in different lifelike positions.  Is the figure on the right in the detail shown below a hunter disguised in a bison’s skin, a shamanic summoner of animal spirits, or a bison god?

Detail from a mural engraving at the Cave of Trois-Frères, France, copied by Abbé Henri Breuil, p. 135 from "La Peinture Prehistorique: Lascaux ou la Naissance de l'Art" by Georges Bataille

Here’s another detail from the same cave:

Bison, engraving at the Cave of Trois-Frères, France, copied by Abbé Henri Breuil, fig. 121a from "The Roots of Civilization" by Alexander Marshack

These vigorous drawings burst with vitality, conveying the power of the looming beasts and the fury of the hunt.

You may notice that I’ve chosen to show many of these works in copies made by the Abbé Breuil, one of the early 20th century’s foremost specialists in European cave art.  His beautifully rendered copies clarify images that are often hard to read in photographs, painted or engraved on rough and mottled stone surfaces.  It’s difficult for photographs to capture the qualities of cave art, which is not flat and not intended to be seen in harsh bright light.  Many of the original paintings incorporate the bulges of the stone walls as the bulges of the animal bodies.  In other places, paintings continue from walls up to vaulted ceilings, as in this image from the most famous painted cave of all, Lascaux:

Ceiling of the Axial Gallery, Lascaux Cave, p. 111 from "The Cave of Lascaux: The Final Photographs" by Mario Ruspoli

Depictions of animals are far more numerous, and usually more detailed, than depictions of the human form in paleolithic art, but the human figures can be strikingly sensual:

Reclining female figures from Cave of La Madeleine, France, relief carvings above with copy drawings below, fig. 111 from "The Way of the Animal Powers" by Joseph Campbell

Those remind me of Matisse.  The carved “Venus” figurines, a selection of which are shown below, prefigure the styles of Brancusi and Gaudier-Brzeska:

Small paleolithic figurines, from left to right, vitreous rock from the Riviera, hematite from Moravia, mammoth ivory from Ukraine, and mammoth bone from Russia, figs. 121 thru 124 from "The Way of the Animal Powers" by Joseph Campbell

From a slightly later period, after the invention of the bow and arrow, we have silhouetted figures like this one, similar in style to South African rock art, but this is from Spain:

Archer with compound bow, rock painting in black from the Spanish Levant, fig. 177 from "Art in the Ice Age" by Maringer and Bandi

This is just a small sampling from an incredible wealth of prehistoric masterpieces.

New note added April 21, 2010:  Get a great feeling for the art in context with the navigable CGI reproduction of the art in context in the cave of Lascaux.

2010/02/07

Rhythmic Line

Modern Dance, 2008, by Fred Hatt

A sense of rhythm is as central to the art of drawing as it is to music.  It is the movement of the artist’s hand that gives a drawing its sense of movement and life.  Strokes that are fluid and responsive imbue a sketch with vitality.

I run a session at Spring Studio in Manhattan, where beginners struggling to get the hang of drawing from life work alongside accomplished artists who have logged many thousands of hours at the drawing board.  If you look at people at work, you’ll notice that most beginners draw tentatively.  They measure a lot and try to use intellectual knowledge to figure out what they’re seeing before they make their marks.  There is no rhythm or flow to their lines.  The parts of the body are drawn separately and never quite seem to integrate into a lifelike figure.  But watch a really good artist and you’ll see that the hand is in motion most of the time, moving with the sureness and lightness of a conductor’s baton.

Lounging Ryan, 2008, by Fred Hatt

The contours of the body are all curves of various kinds.  In drawing, these curves are translated into movements of the hand.  I allow my perception to flow along the contours like a skier gliding along the grooves and rises of a snow surface.  The drawing hand moves at a fairly constant pace, and those contours become rhythmic gestures traced onto the paper.

Natural, 2010, by Fred Hatt

In quick drawing, I almost never do any kind of measurement to determine proportions.  If the flow of movement is constant, proportions fall into place because of a sense of rhythm in the changes of direction.  The movement of the hand continues even when the pencil or brush is lifted from the paper, so that every rounded form is carried through from the front to the back, or from one side to the other.  Thus even an unshaded line drawing is given a sense of solidity and connection.

Arch, 2010, by Fred Hatt

In longer, more finished drawings, I do measure proportional and angular relationships and make corrections, but only after I’ve first captured the feeling of the pose through this rhythmic tracing of contours.  Proportions rigidly applied can crush the life out of a sketch, while giving priority to the flow and connection of forms can make a drawing communicate living energy even if the proportions are pretty far off.

Clasped Hands on Hip, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Attitude, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Complex shapes like hands, or complex poses that are hard to analyze in terms of straight lines, become simpler when treated as a continuous flow of curved shapes.

Hands, 2010, by Fred Hatt

Writhe, 2009, by Fred Hatt

The following sketches were done at Cross Pollination at Green Space Studio, a monthly event that offers the opportunity to draw while dancers warm up and move freely in the studio.  The dancers aren’t posing – even when they’re stretching or relaxing, they don’t stay in one position for more than a few seconds at a time.  The strokes I make are rough gestures, more often responding to memories of fleeting perceptions rather than the simultaneous perceiving and drawing I do in a life drawing session with timed poses.

Dancers Stretching, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Three Moving Figures, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Three Resting Figures, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Improvised Movement, 2008, by Fred Hatt

And here are two large-scale drawings – the first is 30″ x 48″ (76 x 122 cm) and the second is 48″ x 60″ (122 x 152 cm) – that take rhythmic flowing contours beyond the simplicity of the quick sketch:

Nyx, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Star, 2008, by Fred Hatt

If you like the movement drawings from Cross Pollination, check out this post for more.

2009/09/17

Pregnant Pose

Seaborne, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Seaborne, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Claudia Citkovitz is a Staten Island based acupuncturist with a specialty in childbirth and delivery.  Recently she arranged for me to make some sketches that she may use in promotional or educational materials.  One of Claudia’s friends and clients posed for the drawings above and below.  These two are a kind of yin and yang of the pregnant figure.  Above, the relaxed body is treated like a landscape, while below the standing body actively projects its fertility.  The extra weight in the abdomen often seems to cause a compensatory drawing back of the shoulders, giving many a standing pregnant figure a proud air.

Stride, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Stride, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Several years ago I painted a pregnant belly at a music festival, emphasizing the aqueous and ovoid elements of the condition:

Belly Crescent, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Belly Crescent, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Another festival painting of a pregnant torso, expressing the flourishing life force:

Garden, 2007, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Garden, 2007, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

I also had the opportunity to do a full body painting on a pregnant woman.  Here is the earthiest manifestation of the human body, in one of the most grounded poses:

Fertile Structure, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Fertile Structure, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

This is an intuitive painting responding to the sensation of life energy coalescing within, as in the fetal image in this post.

Supine, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Supine, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Side, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Side, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

In 2007, Shifra, one of the renowned artist’s models on the New York scene, posed for a drawing session at Figureworks Gallery at about eight months pregnant. The roundness of the pregnant form is quite unlike the roundness of obesity.  The skin of the swelling belly and breasts is drum-tight.  The entire body is surging with life-force and all the muscles are toned.

Shifra pregnant pencil sketch 01, 2007, by Fred Hatt

SG pregnant pencil sketch 01, 2007, by Fred Hatt

Below, the sharp angle of the elbow balances the rounded belly.

Shifra pregnant pencil sketch 02, 2007, by Fred Hatt

SG pregnant pencil sketch 02, 2007, by Fred Hatt

Poses that show both the back and the belly convey the strength and vigor that a pregnant woman emanates so strongly.

Shifra pregnant pencil sketch 01, 2007, by Fred Hatt

SG pregnant pencil sketch 03, 2007, by Fred Hatt

Shifra pregnant pencil sketch 04, 2007, by Fred Hatt

SG pregnant pencil sketch 04, 2007, by Fred Hatt

Shifra pregnant pencil sketch 05, 2007, by Fred Hatt

SG pregnant pencil sketch 05, 2007, by Fred Hatt

This pose has great openness and an upward thrust that convey the vigor of the life force burgeoning within.

Shifra pregnant crayon sketch 01, 2007, by Fred Hatt

SG pregnant crayon sketch 01, 2007, by Fred Hatt

The side reclining pose, viewed from above, is a rarely seen view.  I had to stand, balancing my large drawing board against my belt with one hand, to draw this angle:

Shifra pregnant crayon sketch 02, 2007, by Fred Hatt

SG pregnant crayon sketch 02, 2007, by Fred Hatt

A few months later, Shifra returned to pose with her child.

SG and child pencil drawing 5, 2008, by Fred Hatt

SG and child pencil sketch 05, 2008, by Fred Hatt

SG and child crayon sketch 01, 2008, by Fred Hatt

SG and child crayon sketch 01, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Of course, a baby won’t hold still for a portrait.  This is one of the many situations where speed is an important asset for an artist.

SG and child pencil sketch 03, 2008, by Fred Hatt

SG and child pencil sketch 03, 2008, by Fred Hatt

SG and child pencil sketch 06, 2008, by Fred Hatt

SG and child pencil sketch 06, 2008, by Fred Hatt

SG and child crayon sketch 02, 2008, by Fred Hatt

SG and child crayon sketch 02, 2008, by Fred Hatt

The pregnant figure and the baby are both constructed around predominantly round forms.  Both share a quality of growth so concentrated it seems to color the air around them, but the baby has a vulnerability in contrast to the pregnant woman’s manifest power.

The crayon drawings here are all 50 x 70 cm, aquarelle crayon on paper, and the pencil drawings are in 14″ x 17″ (35.5 x 43 cm) sketchbooks.

One of my large scale drawings, of a pregnant couple, is seen at the bottom of this post.

2009/07/29

Meanings of the Nude

"Venus of Lespugue", c. 23,000 BCE

“Venus of Lespugue”, c. 23,000 BCE

Why is the naked human body such an enduring focus of art?  Of course the image of the human form excites our mirror neurons, and can express all aspects of the human experience, but it could usually do that just as well in clothes.  Art students study nude models in order to see the structure and movement of the body unobstructed, but the nude figure in art clearly has an importance beyond its function in learning anatomy.  The naked body is an object of desire, but the nude in art can evoke a far more complex response than can pornographic imagery.

The nude evokes many contradictory things.  Historically, the nude figure has been seen as representing innocence and purity as well as sensuality and sexuality.  The artistic nude can be Apollonian, showing the harmonies of sacred geometry as embodied in the human form, or it can be Dionysian, expressing unconstrained energy or emotion.  Power and weakness, pride and shame, pleasure and pain:  all of these are the experiences of being in the flesh, and all can be shown in the image of the flesh.

William Blake, "Glad Day"
William Blake, “Glad Day”, 1794

In the formal experimentation of the moderns, the nude as a subject maintained a connection to artistic conventions and provided a vital link of identification, humanizing abstraction.

Matisse, "Blue Nude"

Matisse, “Blue Nude”, 1952

In contemporary art since Bacon, the nude is often a mirror reflecting the darkest aspects of society through fragmentation, commodification, dehumanization, dissociation and repulsion.

Jenny Saville, "Hybrid", 1997

Jenny Saville, “Hybrid”, 1997

For the practicing artist, scopophilia, the erotics of seeing, can be an important motivating factor, stimulating the considerable focus of energy that is required in producing art.  Despite the popular image of the artist as lubricious libertine, no real art is produced unless the erotic impulse is sublimated into the creative drive.  Thus the artist of the nude may also represent both sensuality and chastity through her or his practice.

Boucher, "Nude on a Sofa", 1752

Boucher, “Miss O’Murphy”, 1752

Anthropologist Ian Gilligan, who studies the prehistory of clothing, says “Clothing is the thing that separates us from nature, literally and symbolically . . . It actually affects us in the way we perceive ourselves and our environment.”  Clothing is a barrier between us and the world, and between us and our own physical selves, with “implications for how we think about ourselves in relation to other things, but also in how our bodies interact with the world. . . We’ve fabricated a whole artificial environment, which is a kind of externalised clothing. Many aspects of modern existence insulate us from the outside natural world.”

This separation from Nature has become an unhealed split, a division of the self expressed in the root myths of human culture.  In the story of Adam and Eve we are told that the initial manifestation of self-awareness is shame at nakedness, and God’s punishment for it is suffering and death.  Thus our very bodies are seen as the source of evil and sin and must be hidden.

Masaccio, "Expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden"

Masaccio, “Expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden”, 1423

Observing death we see that the living person or soul becomes separated from the body, and so we imagine that these things are inherently separate, forced together by a cruel deity to test us.  The mind or spirit is heavenly, angelic and pure, while the physical body binds us to death, destructive urges and suffering.

The body is identified with the Earth, whose odorous solidity it shares.  Body and Nature, and all the living things of Earth, are then reduced to objects, to be tamed and exploited without mercy for the advancement of the supposedly pure spirit.  The Earth has suffered from this division within Man, but as creatures of Earth we do not escape the pain.

Michelangelo, "Awakening Slave", 1519

Michelangelo, “Awakening Slave”, 1519

The West or the Abrahamic religions hold no monopoly on this hatred of the body.  The way of Yoga would seem opposed to the split, a practice of fully embodied spirituality, and yet the Yogasutras, the most revered ancient source of Yoga philosophy, clearly state the aim of the practice of Yoga is to “transcend the qualities of nature”, to purify ourselves of all physical desires and to “disentangle ourselves from involvement in even the subtlest manifestations of the phenomenal world,” as quoted from B. K. S. Iyengar, Light on the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali.

Scientific humanists might rail against religious ideas of the soul or the afterlife, but still long to upload the mind into a computer as a way of escaping the fallibility and mortality of the flesh.   (As long as computers don’t last even one tenth as long as the human body, this would hardly seem to solve the problem!)

For the fundamentalists in all cultures that fear individual freedom and the open mind, the image of the human body is a threat to order, as it reminds people of pure animal joy.  The free body terrifies authoritarians.  If the people experience freedom at the level of the body, there will be no controlling them!  Thus “modesty” must be strictly enforced.

Gustav Vigeland, figure from Vigeland Park, Oslo, c. 1930

Gustav Vigeland, figure from Vigeland Park, Oslo, c. 1930, photo by Simon Davey

The image of the nude reminds us that we are our bodies, that sexuality and appetites and mortality are our very nature, and that the beauty of our animality cannot be separated from the beauty of our spirituality.

Perhaps death separates body and spirit, but if we separate them in life we are like a house divided against itself, that cannot stand.  We cannot, like Oscar Wilde’s Dorian Gray, deny and conceal the part of us that decays.  I believe mind and matter are two surfaces of a single membrane, and neither can exist in isolation from the other.

Fred Hatt, "Pregnant Couple", 2008

Fred Hatt, “Pregnant Couple”, 2008

For me, the nude is an image of unity, of spirit incarnate and matter imbued with life.  A work of art is in itself an attempt to put living energy into a physical form, so the subject matter perfectly fits the activity.  The nude hides neither its eroticism nor its mortality, but shows the human as a cell of the body of Earth.  The nude is a talisman to heal the ancient division afflicting humanity, and an assertion of freedom and joy against fundamentalism and fear.

I would like to hear readers’ responses to this post.  Please comment.

Fair use claimed for all photos of artwork.  Click on images for links to sources.

2009/06/12

Fire in the Belly

Filed under: Body Art,Top Ten — Tags: , , — fred @ 10:39
Ignis, 2005, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Ignis, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

When someone is driven by passion or ambition we say they have fire in the belly.  It’s one of many idioms that describe mental or spiritual states in bodily terms.  These common sayings reveal our sense that the whole body, not just the head, is the vehicle of the soul and a field of clashing forces.

Body painting is an ancient art of transformation, to make the warrior more terrible, the young mate more enticing, or the shaman more of a dream creature.  I have used it as a medium of discovery, exploring the landscape of the body and finding the forces that lie beneath the surface.  In the type of body art shown here, there is never any preconceived design.  As the paintbrush follows the natural curves of the body, it becomes a kind of divining rod, finding the quality of energetic pools and flows and manifesting them in visible form.

The images in this post are all frontal torsos, painted in my studio in private sessions between 1999 and 2003, in which I used a free-flowing but symmetrical form to express the internal forces others have traditionally described in terms of chakras or internal alchemy.

White Strike, 1999, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

White Strike, 1999, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

A kind of lightning bolt centered on the heart or sternum, above, becomes a dancing Nature spirit in the example below:

Shaman, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Shaman, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

A colorful approach to the body’s structure becomes a festive celebration of the life force:

Botanic, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Botanic, 2001, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Arch, 1991, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Arch, 1999, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

In these, the body is wrapped in veils of more subtle color:

Cathexis, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Cathexis, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Dragonfly, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Dragonfly, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

In these examples, the belly becomes a vessel, containing and transforming energy that is projected upward and outward in the chest area:

Flask, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Flask, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Phoenix, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Phoenix, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Power Stance, 2003, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Power Stance, 2003, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Bright Seed, 2000, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Bright Seed, 2000, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Projection, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

Projection, 2002, bodypaint and photo by Fred Hatt

We all have a clear sense that acting from the gut, acting from the heart, and acting from the head are three entirely distinct ways.  Those who study yoga or martial arts learn to experience the internal force fields of the body in terms of chakras or dantiens.  My approach is loose and intuitive.  I hope it reveals the dynamic nature of the human body as structured energy.

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