DRAWING LIFE by fred hatt

2009/08/05

Time and Line

Plantar, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Plantar, 2008, by Fred Hatt

In an essay I wrote in 1999 I said “Drawing records something photography does not – the movement of perception in time.”  Every mark made in drawing represents a moment of seeing or of imagination.  The energy of the artist’s strokes convey to a viewer something of the energy of the creative act.  I want to preserve this quality of line, and for this reason have chosen to work primarily with media in which the line does not become blended or smudged.

Since the time I came to understand the time-based aspect of drawing, it has been an important basis of my creative process.  I had first experienced drawing or painting as a record of the movement of consciousness in making abstract work, but I eventually discovered that my focus benefited greatly from working with models.  In In order to practice working from models in motion, I organized “Movement Drawing” sessions, life drawing sessions in which the models were dancers and other kinds of trained movers.

Movement Drawing Flyer, 1997, by Fred Hatt

Movement Drawing Flyer, 1997, by Fred Hatt

In order to make it possible to see and capture something of the movement, we asked the models to perform extremely slow movement, stop-and-go movement, and repeated movement (same gesture or movement phrase repeated for five minutes at a time).  These sessions were challenging and exhausting practice.  It was possible to fill an entire fat sketchbook in a single session.  I was spending a lot on paper, and the piles of drawings in my apartment were growing quickly.  One of my solutions was to draw many overlapping figures on the same page, using different colored crayons selected randomly so that the individual figures could be distinguished in the mesh.  Here’s a typical example from that time:

Patrick movement sketch, 2000, by Fred Hatt

Patrick movement sketch, 2000, by Fred Hatt

Another adaptation was drawing with ink on long scrolls, as seen in this previous post.

Around the time I was most intensely involved in movement drawing, I visited my family in Oklahoma, where I grew up.  Looking through the artwork I had done as a child, the earliest sketch I found was a crayon drawing made when I was three years old or so.  My mother had labeled this drawing as I had described it to her, “José Greco Dancing in Purple Boots”.   José Greco was a famous flamenco dancer and choreographer who made a great impression on me as a child.  Here’s a clip of Greco’s dance, followed by my childhood interpretation:

José Greco Dancing in Purple Boots, 1961, by Fred Hatt

José Greco Dancing in Purple Boots, 1961, by Fred Hatt

Finding this drawing showed me that I had known my mission from the start.  Already at age three I was inspired by dance, trying to capture the energy of movement through scribbly crayon drawings.  I just lost my way in life and it took me nearly forty years to find my way back to the path!

Starting around 2003 I began using the technique of overlapping figures in different colors to make much larger, almost mural scale drawings, and developed a way of working in which I allowed a sort of chaotic buildup of figurative lines, followed by a phase of finding dynamic form in the mess.  An earlier blog post describes the process and shows phases of development of one piece.  A number of large drawings made in this way can be seen in this gallery on my portfolio site.

The remainder of images in this post are of several of these large drawings made in the past year.  All are 48″ x 60″ (122 cm x 152 cm), aquarelle crayon (sometimes combined with oil pastel) on black paper.  These are selected not necessarily as the best of my drawings of this type, but to show variations on the style.  Each one is made working with a single model who takes multiple quick poses, mainly of their own choosing.  Work with the model is completed in a single session, followed by further work on my own to develop and clarify the compositions.

The model for this one is a dancer of great intensity:

Tropic, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Tropic, 2009, by Fred Hatt

On this one I kept changing the orientation of the paper as I added new figures.  It makes it a little difficult to read.  I imagine it being displayed on a ceiling, or with a slowly rotating motor so different figures might dominate the composition at different times:

Edges, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Edges, 2009, by Fred Hatt

In the next drawing, the overlapping figures become a kind of complex landscape, a mysterious cave:

Range, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Range, 2009, by Fred Hatt

On the drawing below, when I was finished working with the model I was afraid the mass of figures was a hopeless jumble, but bringing color into the in-between spaces caused the whole thing to crystalize beautifully:

Seer, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Seer, 2009, by Fred Hatt

In these drawings, not only do the lines express the movement of my perceptions in time, but the multiple overlapping figures show the movement of the model over a period of time.  Aspects of the bodily form, the quality of movement, the energy and feeling expression of the model become part of the resulting image.

The cubists were trying to move beyond the limitations of the pictorial or photographic view by showing their subject from multiple angles simultaneously, suggesting the third spatial dimension not by the traditional way of projection or perspective, but by fragmentation.  In these drawings, I’m fragmenting the fourth dimension, time, to bring it onto the plane and into the frame.

2009/04/14

Composing on the Fly

Gaze Angle, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Gaze Angle, 2009, by Fred Hatt

This is one of my big black drawings, made about three weeks ago.  It’s 48″ x 60″, or 122 cm x 152 cm, aquarelle crayon on black paper cut from a large roll.  Excepting a little finishing work, this drawing was completed in one three hour session working from life with model Jessi.  I made some small warm-up drawings in a sketchbook at the beginning of our session, but didn’t directly use any of those in putting together the big piece.  There was no pre-planned composition.  I worked on the floor, sometimes crawling on top of the drawing, looking at my model on the other side of the studio.  All the overlapping figures are different poses of the same model.

I’ve made a number of these big drawings.  Sometimes they really work, and sometimes they fail, but when they do work the compositions have a vigor and a naturalness that I’ve never been able to achieve by deliberate design.

For this session, I photographed the work in progress whenever we took a break.  The “in progress” photos are a little rough.  You’ll see the weighted balls I use to hold the paper down, and in the first one the edge of my crayon box.  But they give some idea of how the work proceeds.

Stage 1, overlapping poses:

Gaze Angle, stage 1, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Gaze Angle, stage 1, 2009, by Fred Hatt

I started out by just asking Jessi to take different short poses of her own choosing for a few minutes at a time.  I sketched them with different colors, chosen arbitrarily, so when they overlap it would be possible to distinguish the lines of one figure from another.  By the time we took our first break there were five figures, already occupying most of the page.  I believe the figures were sketched working around the page in a clockwise direction, starting with the one on the lower right.   At this point I needed to stand up and get a sense of what was beginning to develop, and what possibilities remained in the still open spaces.  Jessi and I both looked at the piece and talked about what might come next.  These works are truly collaborations with the model!

Stage 2, establishing a center:

Gaze Angle, stage 2, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Gaze Angle, stage 2, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Only two additional figures were added in the second session, a sideways reclining pose in the upper half, and a kneeling figure with face upturned in the center.  That pose was selected specifically to fit the open space we noticed at the time of our first break.  I had also felt there was something interesting about the different heads facing in different directions.  A face looking upwards and another turned away seemed to add balance to this aspect of the composition.  I also liked the overlapping of hands and feet at the right center of the piece, and the juxtaposition of the four heads on the far left side with the roundness of shoulders, breast and thigh.

Stage 3, filling gaps:

Gaze Angle, stage 3, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Gaze Angle, stage 3, 2009, by Fred Hatt

During the third session, a foreshortened reclining figure was added to the largest remaining sparsely drawn area of the page.  Then two of the faces flanking that figure were developed.  They may have been looking a little lost in the increasing density and needed to be pulled forward.  The face just to the right of the center was given bright white eyes looking directly at the viewer of the drawing.  I think of that as a hook, a place to stop the eyes when they are swirling around in all the turbulence of the picture.  Some very linear body fragments were used to fill the two remaining “holes”.

Stage 4,  end of time working with model:

Gaze Angle, stage 4, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Gaze Angle, stage 4, 2009, by Fred Hatt

At this point we were running out of time.  At our last break I had noticed two areas that still felt a little undefined.  I’d seen Jessi with her face cradled in her hands, and this image seemed to add a nice bit of crisp detail, seen from two angles and left in a pure linear state, without shading.

Stage 5, finishing touches, days later:

Gaze Angle, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Gaze Angle (final), 2009, by Fred Hatt

After my session with Jessi was over I pinned the drawing up on the wall where I could walk past it and look at it over the next several days.  Finally, I made some finishing touches on it.  Not too much – It’s very easy to screw up a drawing like this by overworking it.  Just some background colors to bring out some parts of the figures that tend to get lost, and to separate and sharpen some of the facets.  There are also a few touches like the blue highlighting on the upper left and upper right faces, cross contours to give dimension to the elbow and hand in the upper left corner, and some development in the necks and collarbones near the center.

If you’re interested in other drawings made with this process, check out this gallery on my portfolio site.  I don’t know if anyone else works in a similar way – if you know of someone, let me know by leaving a comment.

This style developed out of my interest in capturing movement in drawing, and in working with the tension between order and chaos.  I noticed that my quick sketches had a great feeling of energy, but that energy was often diminished as a drawing became more finished.  I wanted to keep the spontaneity while increasing the complexity.  When hiring models for private work, I was compelled to do everything it was impossible to do in the regular group drawing sessions I attend. I can afford to hire models only occasionally, so I want to get my money’s worth!

For me, this process is about the magic of collaborating with Chaos.  I avoid preconceiving either the design or the theme.  As I wrote in one of my artist’s statements, “What is expressed in these works is not a concept or a personal feeling, but something unconceived, a spirit that emerges from the moment, from the interaction of artist and model and environment.”

I think I learned a lot from my brother Frank, a musician with a love for improvisation.  The key to improvising is to be fully engaged in the moment.  These drawings are one of my ways of practicing that vital spiritual discipline.

2009/03/30

Scrolls

KN scroll, 2000, by Fred Hatt

KN Scroll, 2000, 91 cm x 982 cm, by Fred Hatt

For several years I ran a “Movement Drawing” class at Minerva Durham’s Spring Studio.  It was like a life drawing class except we didn’t want the models to keep still.  Most of the models were dancers or performers.   Of course it’s very difficult to draw someone who’s dancing around at full speed, so we had several adaptations that helped us try to see and capture the movement we saw.  We had sets of extremely slow movement – different models had quite different interpretations of what constituted “extremely slow”!  We had sets of repeated movement:  the same gesture or movement phrase repeated over and over for five minutes at a time.  And we did “stop and go” sessions, in which the models moved freely and the artists could call for the action to freeze for a short time.

This was great practice because the only way to get anything was to draw as quickly as possible.  I experimented with crayons, graphite, and ink.  Using a brush with ink really seemed to have the right fluidity and responsiveness for the task, but ink brush drawing in a sketchbook doesn’t work so well as it takes too long to dry and the pages get stuck together.  So I had the idea of using scrolls.  I did many small scrolls about 6 feet (2 meters) long, usually vertical.  But I also made a few big scrolls, and that’s what I’m showing in this post.  All the scrolls shown here are 36″ or 91 cm across their short dimension, and 20 to 30 feet (6 to 10 meters) long.

Looking at the scroll above, it’s interesting how the style changes at different levels.  At the beginning (the top) the drawing is realistic, separate figures.  I’m drawing with a fan brush, which holds ink well and makes a single line when applied on its edge or a multiple line if used flat.  At the next level down the figures become denser and begin to overlap more.  Then they disintegrate a bit, becoming more abstract.  Perhaps the model’s movement was getting a bit faster here.  At this level there’s a fiery quality to the drawing.  Realism returns, with two large figures that have hair and even faces, but the more abstract and fragmented figures return and the scroll ends with a jumble of overlapping body parts and hands.  The last part of the scroll was done with a round brush, not the fan brush.

The remaining scrolls are horizontal, so you’ll have to scroll to the right to see them in full.

Patrick scroll, 2000, 91 cm x 1006 cm, by Fred Hatt

Patrick scroll, 2000, 91 cm x 1006 cm, by Fred Hatt

This one, and the others in this post, were drawn vertically from left to right.  This one’s also done with the fan brush, but the style and density is more uniform than in the vertical scroll.  If you look at it as a sequence it has the feeling of a dance.

The movement drawing classes attracted two very distinct types of artists.  There were the loose and flowy artists who didn’t really care about capturing the figure so much as picking up on the energy of the situation, and there were the animators, who tended to make series of small, crisply drawn figures like animation keyframes.  My own approach probably fell between those extremes.

Lauren scroll, 2000, 91 cm x 884 cm, by Fred Hatt

Lauren scroll, 2000, 91 cm x 884 cm, by Fred Hatt

This one was done with the round brush and a more precise, sculptural line.  It’s possible this one (immediately above) was done with still poses (stop and go session) and the previous one (the male figure scroll) with slow movement, but I don’t really remember.  The model for the one immediately above was Lauren, and the strength and variety of the poses you can see in this scroll is a great example of what a really superior model brings to their craft.

These last two examples were, I believe,  both drawn on the same day.  These are reproduced at a smaller scale so you can see more of the figures at once:

Flora scrolls, 2001, 91 cm x 762 cm and 91 cm x 610 cm, by Fred Hatt

Flora scrolls, 2001, 91 cm x 762 cm and 91 cm x 610 cm, by Fred Hatt

For a while I had a studio in the mezzanine of Gary Lai’s Physical Arts Center in Brooklyn.  This was a large studio, workshop space and performance venue for gymnastics, martial arts,  dance and aerial (trapeze) work.  It was the only place I ever had enough room to exhibit these large scrolls, along with many of the smaller ones.  You can see an image of the mezzanine space filled with such scrolls here.

In that huge space it was possible to get back and see these scrolls from a distance, something that couldn’t even be done when they were being made at Spring Studio or in my own small studio.  The dense clusters of figures can be seen as writhing torrents of multiple bodies, like Dante’s whirlwind of lovers from the Inferno, or sequentially, as phases of movement through time, which is how I tend to see them since that’s how they were made.  To me they are also reminiscent of the storms of bison and stags seen in Paleolithic cave murals.

The form of the scroll also suggests a momentum that will not be bounded by the tight frame of the regular page.  Perhaps the most famous modern-day work done in the form of a scroll is Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, typed on a long roll of paper as though stopping to change paper was out of the question for such a barrelling headlong memoir.

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