DRAWING LIFE by fred hatt

2010/01/07

B-Sides

Filed under: Figure Drawing: Anatomy — Tags: , , , , — fred @ 20:14

Robust, 1998, by Fred Hatt

The front of the body has most of the major focal points, so we tend to think of the back as secondary and less interesting.  We tend to want to face others, so the back of the body is unseen, like the far side of the moon.  Here’s a selection of my drawings of nude backs from over the years, making the case for the beauty and power of the human back.

Compact, 2004, by Fred Hatt

Triangular, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Violon d'Ingres, 1997, by Fred Hatt

Look at the variety in these backs.  They convey personality even without a face or an action pose.  The anatomy of the back is a complex structure of curved and triangular bones and muscles, but it’s hidden underneath the skin, so the landmarks can be elusive.

Most of these more finished drawings have been done at the three-hour long pose session at Spring Studio.  I’ve been the monitor (supervisor) at one of these weekly sessions for at least thirteen years.  There are always artists that want to draw portraits at these sessions, so nearly all the poses are more or less frontal.  The studio is set up with drawing stations on three sides of the stand, so sometimes it’s possible to get a back view by going all the way to the side.  The light is usually coming from in front of the model, so the back is often in shadow, illuminated by light reflecting back from the colored fabric backdrops, as in these examples:

Prism, 1998, by Fred Hatt

La Reina, 2009, by Fred Hatt

The back of the body can convey the mood, attitude, and style of a person:

Afar, 2000, by Fred Hatt

Fan, 2004, by Fred Hatt

Burlyman, 2004, by Fred Hatt

As the great majority of the body’s nerves branch out from the spinal cord, the energy impulses that travel through the body are close to the surface of the back.  I sometimes draw to help me visualize the energy I can sense in someone’s body:

Energy Fields, 2002, by Fred Hatt

Backlines, 2001, by Fred Hatt

Back with Projections, 2006, by Fred Hatt

The back is also the center of movement in the body.  Mana Hashimoto, the blind dancer I’ve worked with on several performance projects, leads classes in “Dance Without Sight”.  When I took the class, Mana showed us how to follow another person’s movement by lightly touching them.  A hand on the middle of the back can detect every major movement of the body, including those of the extremities.  There is no other place to put the hand that works as well.

Crawling, 2002, by Fred Hatt

Leaning Back, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Blades and Curves, 2007, by Fred Hatt

Ankle Grasp, 2003, by Fred Hatt

Five more pictures fill out the post – explorations of the beautiful possibilities of the second side of the body:

Chair Back, 2001, by Fred Hatt

Curvaceous, 2004, by Fred Hatt

Dorsal Contours, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Press, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Squat, 2009, by Fred Hatt

These drawings are all aquarelle crayon on paper, 50 cm x 70 cm or 18″ x 24″ or close to those sizes.  Most of them were made during life drawing sessions at Spring Studio, Project of Living Artists, or Figureworks Gallery.

2009/12/01

The Mind is an Antenna

Filed under: Art and Philosophy — Tags: , , , , — fred @ 00:24
Crystalize, 2000, by Fred Hatt

Crystalize, 2000, by Fred Hatt

A long time ago, someone taught me a simple way of meditation.  I was told that thoughts would come, and I should let them go.  You can’t stop the thoughts coming, but you can choose not to pick up on them or follow them, to just let them come and let them go.  I was taught to focus on the breath coming in and out, to give the mind a simple physical point of attention so that thoughts would not become a central thread.

Thoughts did come, of course.  The experience was like sitting on a city park bench, listening to fragmentary snatches of conversation from the people passing by.  Most of the thoughts were incomplete or nonsensical.  Many were intriguing.  If I had chosen to follow them, I could have spun threads of thinking, feeling, or narrative out of them.  But I chose to let them go, so they remained disjointed fragments.

I’ve had this experience many times since then.  Over time, I have come to believe that the mind does not originate these thoughts, but that thoughts exist in some impersonal mind-field and the mind just perceives them.  The mind is sensing thoughts, not generating them.  Of course, the mind is not just a sensor, but also a processor, so if you latch onto a thought you can build it into a structure using all the cognitive tricks:  emotion, metaphor, narrative, logic.  But the seed-thoughts, I believe, come into the mind from outside.

Projection, 1998, by Fred Hatt

Projection, 1998, by Fred Hatt

Our sense of a coherent self arises from the flow of our sensations, thoughts, and memories.  We identify with what we have experienced and what we think.  But all of that is really external.  Although it is our only way of perceiving ourselves, it is not ourselves.  It is simply the medium through which we move, as water is the medium in which a fish swims.

The world contains every possible kind of sensory input, every kind of experience, all the time.  It is a liberation to realize that we have some control over what aspects of this omnisensorium we choose to give our attention to.  When we pay attention to horror, the threading aspect of the mind will lead us to perceive more and more horror.  Likewise if we choose to focus on beauty or joy or humor.  In terms of thoughts, all kinds of thoughts are in the field at all times.

Like radio waves, many streams of thought are passing through us simultaneously, most of them unperceived.  If we don’t know how to tune our antenna, we are most likely to pick up the loudest signals, the million megawatt superstations.  Unfortunately those signals are mostly vacuous drivel and unfocused emotional urges.  Finding the golden strands in the stream of muck depends on learning to withdraw attention from the loudest and most sensational things so we can give our attention to quieter, subtler things.

Ourania, 1997, by Fred Hatt

Ourania, 1997, by Fred Hatt

The drawings in this post are aquarelle crayon on paper, 18″ x 24″ (46 x 61 cm).

2009/11/09

Redrawing

Filed under: Figure Drawing: Process — Tags: , , , , , , — fred @ 00:23
Soft Angles 1 (detail), 2009, by Fred Hatt

Soft Angles 1 (detail), 2009, by Fred Hatt

Readers have told me they like posts that show my process, even though this means posting drawings I’d never exhibit.  I remember as a child seeing an art book that had a series of black-and-white photographs showing multiple stages of Henri Matisse’s reworking of a painting of a seated woman in a long dress.  This revealing of painting as a process had a lasting impact on my way of understanding art.  I wasn’t able to find this image sequence on the web, but if anyone knows where it is, leave a comment and I’ll insert the link here.

I’m the monitor (non-instructing artist in charge) of a long-pose figure drawing session every Monday morning at Minerva Durham’s legendary Spring Studio in New York.  We start with a set of ten two-minute quick poses to warm up, then the model takes a long pose for the rest of the session, twenty minutes at a time with breaks.  We have time for five and a half of these sets of the same pose.

I work quickly, so if I get off to a good start I can do a pretty developed piece during one of these sessions, like this example.  But sometimes my less-finished drawings are more lively and interesting, and I’m sure I’ve lost some good preliminary drawings by overworking them.  So sometimes I’ll do more than one drawing during the session.  I could try more than one viewing angle, or a portrait and a full figure, or I could vary the technique or the scale.  And sometimes I keep starting over because I’m having trouble getting it.  I have found that once you’ve gone too far down the wrong road it’s better to start fresh than to try to fix it.

The subject of the highly finished example linked in the paragraph above is Claudia, professional artist’s model and the blogger behind Museworthy.  She was our model Monday morning at Spring Studio last week, and so, between her blog and mine you’ll be able to see multiple aspects of that single drawing session.  My sketches from that session’s two-minute warm-up poses are on Museworthy here, and in another Museworthy post you can see  Jean Marcellino‘s lovely refined pencil drawing from the session.

I decided to do multiple drawings at this session, always from the same angle.  Claudia gave us a pose with a lot of interesting angles.  Here’s my sketch from the first twenty-minute set:

Soft Angles 1, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Soft Angles 1, 2009, by Fred Hatt

This sketch shows how I start out analyzing the pose and composing it on the paper.  I first sketched very loosely and lightly in white crayon.  You can see it was too far to the left to look balanced on the page, so I redrew the pose a bit further right.  I was figuring out the three triangular negative spaces (in orange), the bounding shape (in jade green), the convex forms and highlights (ovals and curves in white and yellow), the creases and deep shadows (blue), and the flow of muscle and bone forms.

After having studied all the visual aspects of the pose in the first set, I started again in the second set.  I scaled up a bit for a tighter composition and was able to depict the pose in cleaner, more economical lines:

Soft Angles 2, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Soft Angles 2, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Here there’s just a rough sketch in orange, with dark edges and the outlines of shadows done in dark blue, and bright edges and highlight centers in white.  This is the type of composition I generally prefer, with the body extending past the edges of the paper on all four sides.  This sketch would be a perfect basis for a highly finished full-color drawing, but perhaps this simpler stage of the work is more interesting as it is.

For the third twenty minute set, starting again, I scaled up even more, to larger-than-life, focusing on Claudia’s face:

Soft Angles 3, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Soft Angles 3, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Here I’m working out the three-dimensional structure of the face, looking at light and shadow to separate it into curved surfaces.  In this rough twenty minute form, it’s a bit exaggerated, like a caricature.  It looks slightly too angular, and makes her look older than she does in reality.  If I had worked further on this as a portrait it would have become softer and warmer, the expression less angry and more pensive.

After the third twenty minute set, we had a longer break, and then returned for two and a half more sets.  I started again, scaling back down to the full figure, and worked on the next one for two sets, or forty minutes:

Soft Angles 4, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Soft Angles 4, 2009, by Fred Hatt

I’ve returned to the analytical mode as at the beginning, extending the lines of the form to see how they intersect.  But here I’m developing the roundedness of the form and its relation to its background.  But is the head too big?  The legs too short?  The face is definitely not quite right.  It looks sad and angry, which is not really the feeling I’m getting.  At the last break I decide to start over once again, even though the final set will only be twelve minutes.  I’ve spent all this time looking at planes and angles, light and shadow, but so far I’ve failed to capture the feeling.  Maybe I’m finally warmed up.

Soft Angles 5, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Soft Angles 5, 2009, by Fred Hatt

By this time I know the pose intimately.  Perhaps I can simplify my drawing, getting the essence, letting all the complexity fall away.  I stay away from the overpowering white crayons, using a cool blue and yellow-green for the highlights, and two reds for the dark edges.  Time’s up!  This experiment is concluded.

2009/10/30

Opening the Closed Pose

Filed under: Figure Drawing: Poses — Tags: , , , , , — fred @ 03:08
Spinous Process, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Spinous Process, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Some figurative artists dislike “closed” poses, and complain when the models take these positions.  They may feel the models are shutting them out.  The face and soft frontal torso are hidden, and the back becomes a protective shell, as in the defensive balling-up of a hedgehog or armadillo, or a turtle retreating into its shell.  But this kind of pose often conveys emotional qualities and presents the body in abstract forms of great beauty and complexity.

Taoist subtle anatomy sees the front of the body and the inside of the limbs as yin (soft or receptive) and the back and outside as yang (hard or active).  The fetus develops curled in this egglike position, with its soft parts protected inside.  The fetal position can be experienced as a comforting return to that contained and nourished state.  In yoga, it is called the child’s pose, and is one of the primary restorative or relaxed positions.

Balasana, 1996, by Fred Hatt

Balasana, 1996, by Fred Hatt

Many people sleep in a curled-up position.  A pop-psych analysis says, “Those who curl up in the foetus position are described as tough on the outside but sensitive at heart. They may be shy when they first meet somebody, but soon relax. This is the most common sleeping position, adopted by 41% of the 1,000 people who took part in the survey. More than twice as many women as men tend to adopt this position.”  Most sleepers curl up on their sides, as seen from three angles in the following three sketches:

Sleep Fold, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Sleep Fold, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Bony Points, 2004, by Fred Hatt

Bony Points, 2004, by Fred Hatt

Asleep, 2004, by Fred Hatt

Asleep, 2004, by Fred Hatt

This kind of pose presents a variety of juxtapositions and foreshortenings, depending on the angle of view.  I’ve often been inspired to bring more than one aspect into a drawing, as in the one below.  Here the same side-curled pose is seen from three points of view in superimposed outlines, one in red, one in green, and one in blue, with some sculptural development:

Triple Angle Curl, 2000, by Fred Hatt

Triple Angle Curl, 2000, by Fred Hatt

In the next two examples, the body is shown as seen directly and in a mirror reflection, bringing out the landscape-like qualities of the body in space:

Reflection, 2000, by Fred Hatt

Reflection, 2000, by Fred Hatt

Mountain Mirrored, 1998, by Fred Hatt

Mountain Mirrored, 1998, by Fred Hatt

The curled-up position can bring out anatomical forms of great beauty, in ways they wouldn’t otherwise be seen, as with the muscles of the shoulders and back here:

Serrate, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Serrate, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Or the shoulder cleft here:

Hanging Head, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Hanging Head, 2009, by Fred Hatt

It can reveal complex networks of negative spaces:

Curved Triangular, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Curved Triangular, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Or fresh perspectives and unusual spatial progressions:

Oblique, 1996, by Fred Hatt

Oblique, 1996, by Fred Hatt

The closed pose is not always a simple ovoid structure.

Angular Equipoise, 2001, by Fred Hatt

Angular Equipoise, 2001, by Fred Hatt

Positions with the head down or even with the face hidden are not necessarily guarded or concealed, but may express emotional states.

Elbow Knee, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Elbow Knee, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Headrest, 2005, by Fred Hatt

Headrest, 2005, by Fred Hatt

The crouching figure can suggest darkness and brooding:

Tight Crouch, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Tight Crouch, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Brooding, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Brooding, 2009, by Fred Hatt

The human body is as expressive when it is turned inward as when it is expansive or active.  The guarded nature of the crouch or fetal position shows vulnerability in a different way than the open pose.  The upper and lower parts of the body are drawn together, and the energy pattern becomes circular rather than vertical.

All the newer drawings in this post are 50 cm x 70 cm, aquarelle crayon on paper.  The drawings from 2001 and earlier are the same medium but may be a bit smaller.

2009/10/05

Me As Seen By

Fred Hatt, 2008, by Jean Marcellino

Fred Hatt, 2008, by Jean Marcellino

I regularly post my drawings of others here.  This post is about other artist’s images of me.  The rendering above is by Jean Marcellino, a master of the light and shadow technique using chalk, charcoal, graphite and sanguine.  I think she really captured my expression.

Jean often comes to draw at the Monday morning session at Spring Studio, for which I serve as monitor.  As one of the duties of that position, if our scheduled model is running late, I have to get up on the stand.  When the artists are ready to draw, they’re ready to draw, and they’ll settle for me as a model if they have to.  Here’s another Spring Studio tardy model substitute sketch of me, from Robin Kappy, an artist and psychotherapist:

Fred Hatt. 2009, by Robin Kappy

Fred Hatt. 2007, by Robin Kappy

I think any artist that works with models should experience the other side of the easel.  When I decided fifteen years ago to pursue life drawing as a regular practice, I couldn’t really afford to pay for several sessions a week, so I arranged to be a backup model and was able to draw for free on condition of willingness to step in as a nude model as needed.  I am sure some of the artists who had shown up because a beautiful girl or strapping adonis was on the model schedule were disappointed when they got me as the stand-in!  But for me it was invaluable experience.  I learned where the weight, tension, and energy is in action poses, so that later when I was drawing the same poses I could observe them with an inside understanding.  I learned the suffering of the long pose – any pose held for a long time involves enduring pain, and the longer it goes on, the sooner the pain comes after each break.  These experiences gave me a strong sense of empathy with the models.  Not only does this influence me to treat models kindly, but I have come to believe it is a key to making the kind of connection with the subject that makes the drawings come alive.

Another Spring Studio regular, Karen Collidge, pursues her work with a barreling restless energy.  She does both figurative and abstract expressionist work, and each type of work feeds the other.  Karen has drawn and painted me on multiple occasions.

Fred Hatt, 2009, by Karen Collidge

Fred Hatt, 2009, by Karen Collidge

Fred Hatt, July, 2007, by Karen Collidge

Fred Hatt, July, 2007, by Karen Collidge

Here are three sketches Karen made the same day:

Fred Hatt, December, 2008 #1, by Karen Collidge

Fred Hatt, December, 2008 #1, by Karen Collidge

Fred Hatt, December, 2008 #2, by Karen Collidge

Fred Hatt, December, 2008 #2, by Karen Collidge

Fred Hatt, December, 2008 #3, by Karen Collidge

Fred Hatt, December, 2008 #3, by Karen Collidge

One of the pleasures of modeling for a drawing class is to walk around the room during the breaks and see oneself as seen by many people, who have radically different ways of perceiving and of expressing their perception.  It’s especially striking at a place like Spring Studio, which attracts a wide range of artists who have been trained in different traditions and media, and many of whom have developed their own unique approach through many years of practice.  If you had a bunch of photographers shooting the same model in the same poses and the same light, you wouldn’t see nearly the variety.  Still, some photographers find ways to make their technological medium unique and personal.   Stéphanie de Rougé photographed me in my studio using overlapping exposures with an all-plastic Holga camera, a technique described in this New York Times article (with slide show).

Fred 14, 2008, by Stéphanie de Rougé

Fred 14, 2008, by Stéphanie de Rougé

Stéphanie alternated shooting me and artwork and objects in my studio environment, letting the images combine on the film without ever knowing exactly how these juxtapositions would manifest until the negative was processed.  I appreciate this approach, as I have a great respect for the creative power of randomness.  The resulting pictures weave the artist and his work together.

Fred 15, 2008, by Stéphanie de Rougé

Fred 15, 2008, by Stéphanie de Rougé

Fred 7, 2008, by Stéphanie de Rougé

Fred 7, 2008, by Stéphanie de Rougé

Marcy Currier is an intuitive artist and healer I met at Brushwood Folklore Center.  She was the model for Seer, the last image in my previous post Time and Line. Marcy does chakra portraits in colored pencil, based on her sense of the energy a person radiates from the different facets of their being.  The different colors correspond to the spectral associations of the seven energy centers described in the yogic physiology of the energy body.  Here the blue color represents creative expression, interpenetrating all other levels of my being.  This is a completely different kind of observational drawing!

Fred Hatt, 2009, by Marcy Currier

Fred Hatt, 2009, by Marcy Currier


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