DRAWING LIFE by fred hatt

2009/04/20

Art & Fear

Filed under: Reviews: Writing — Tags: , , , — fred @ 20:23

Among artists over the years, I’ve often heard mention of a little book called Art & Fear: Observations on the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking, by David Bayles & Ted Orland (1993, Image Continuum Press).  The title never appealed to me, but the book kept rising to the surface, one of those things artists recommend or pass along to each other, so when it came up again I decided to read it.  It’s only 122 pages long.

The book emerged from years of conversation between Bayles and Orland around the question of why so many artists give up and quit.  The authors are both photographers, but they’ve deliberately chosen to focus on principles applicable to workers in just about any artform, and they are careful to draw their illustrative examples from a wide range of creative fields.

Personally, I’ve been making art for so long that I can’t even imagine giving it up, though, over time, I have experienced all the frustrations and doubts they describe.  As they say, “Making art now means working in the face of uncertainty; it means living with doubt and contradiction, doing something no one much cares whether you do, and for which there may be neither audience nor reward.”  Wow, that sums up the artist’s biggest challenge really well!

I’ve persevered as an artist just because I couldn’t find anything else that satisfied my soul deep down, but if I had had a family making urgent demands of me I can imagine succumbing to the difficulties.  Bayles and Orland have clearly observed and understood what artists go through, and they’ve distilled it into a gem of wisdom in this book.

Art & Fear had me constantly thinking, “Yes, I recognize exactly what you’re talking about.  I’ve seen it again and again.”  I was surprised to see these things expressed so succinctly, and then surprised again to realize that the issues are so common and yet so little addressed in writing on art.

The authors see right through the theoretical and romantic pretensions that cluster so thickly around art, and they go directly to the heart of the matter, from the point of view of the working artist.  And you have to admire the brevity!   Any artist tormented by blocks or doubts should give Art & Fear the small time it takes to make its big points.

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.

2009/03/23

Colorized

Filed under: Color,Figure Drawing: Process — Tags: , , , , , , — fred @ 23:36
Paul, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Paul, 2008, by Fred Hatt

“Grisaille” is one of the classic “old master” painting techniques.  Essentially, this means painting in black and white.  Color can then be added by using layers of transparent color washes over the monochrome underpainting.  The idea is that the white paint, reflecting through veils of color, gives a luminous effect that cannot be achieved by mixing opaque colored pigments.  It also frees the artist to focus on form and light and shadow and to perfect these aspects of the image before turning to color.

I’ve often worked as a projectionist.  Once I was showing a VHS videotape on a large screen through a video projector, and noticed that the image appeared to be a fairly sharp black and white picture overlaid with very loose veils of color.  A person’s face would have all the important details but the color was a sort of pink smudge that blurred beyond the boundaries of the head.  Technically, because color television technology evolved from and needed to remain compatible with black and white television, the video signal is a black and white (luminance) signal with a separate channel of color information (chroma).  Particularly in a consumer format like VHS, the resolution level of the color information is very low, so the color distinctions are literally soft and blurry, but the sharp luminance signal makes it look fine, at least on a small screen.  Enlargement via projection revealed the trick.

Color drawing is obviously different from oil painting or video technology, but understanding these things informed my color drawing technique.  I saw the power of white to project light and black to define form, and I saw that if the brightness values of the image are well defined, the application of color can be extremely loose without damaging that definition.  In fact, a loose hand with color seemed to have an invigorating effect on the drawings.

I see both values and color as perceptually relative phenomena.  By that I mean that what matters is not the correspondence of the colors or values to some objective scale, but how much brighter or darker, warmer or cooler an area is in relation to its surroundings.  Josef Albers’ classic Interaction of Color is the most thorough exploration of this relativity from an artist’s point of view.

The drawing above is essentially a grisaille sketch, using black and white crayons on gray paper, to which I have begun to add loose color, using only an orange and a blue to push different areas towards relative warmth or coolness.   This could be further refined by adding layers of loose color, which would work like transparent washes, to tint the grays.  Here the warm tones around the cheeks and nose and the cooler tones under the eyes may indicate variances in blood flow, but the warm tones above the eyes were probably seen because the major light source in those shadowy areas is reflection from the cheeks.

Here’s this process carried further, with multiple goings-over with scribblings of quite a few different colored crayons, and “washes” of overall color:

Keryn, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Keryn, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Shadows are always filled with complex reflected light.  Some of it is bouncing off another part of the body, some of it is coming from secondary light sources or reflecting off floors, walls, or other surfaces in the area.  It’s incredibly subtle, but again here the relativistic conception of value and color is helpful.

Leticia, 2008, by Fred Hatt

Leticia, 2008, by Fred Hatt

A more abstract approach to the technique, exaggerating the differences by leaving the colors more separated and “pure”, and virtually eliminating the overall wash effect, is perhaps even more effective.  Viewed from a distance, the coloration looks strikingly realistic, considering that no conventional “flesh tones” have been used in the drawing above.

These portrait examples are from three hour sessions, so there’s ample time to play with color, but sometimes I apply the same principles to quicker figure sketches.

Colin standing back, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Colin standing back, 2009, by Fred Hatt

On the one above the background colors are also a very loose indication of the model’s environment, as he was standing on a warm-toned wooden floor in a room with cool-toned windowlight illuminating the walls.

The next example essentially ignores the surface colors of the body and uses intensified hues to depict the variations in the light illuminating the form.  There is white windowlight from above and behind the body, cool fill in the upper shadows, and warm reflections from the floor beneath her.

Reclining Izaskun, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Reclining Izaskun, 2009, by Fred Hatt

All the drawings shown in this post are made with Caran d’Ache aquarelle crayons on gray Fabriano paper, 70cm x 50 cm.

2009/03/15

Variations

Filed under: Figure Drawing: Process — Tags: , , , , , , — fred @ 20:37

Welcome to my new blog.  As an artist who works in diverse forms, I think this is the medium I’ve always needed.  Here I can mix drawings, photographs, video clips and writings, in a venue that’s expansive and broadly available.  I have over twenty years of archives to draw on.  Much of my work has been seen by a few people at an underground exhibit or performance somewhere, but I think some of it deserves a chance to be seen again.  And there’s a constant stream of new work from my persistent habits of drawing and photography.  If you like something you see here, bookmark this space and I promise there will be fresh material regularly.  And please help me build an audience by sharing what you see here with anyone who may appreciate it.

For my first post, a few new figure drawings.  I practice drawing from direct observation of live models as an ongoing regular practice.  It’s a meditation, an exploration, and a workout for eyes and hands.  These two back studies were made in a private session by commission in my studio a few weeks ago, with a model who wishes to remain anonymous.

Back Study #1: Convex

Back Study #1: Convex, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Back Study #2: Concave

Back Study #2: Concave, 2009, by Fred Hatt

They’re both drawn using my usual Caran d’Ache aquarelle crayons on black paper, 76 cm x 51 cm.  Both are straight-on studies of the back in symmetrical poses, using the same color palette.  Yet they’re strikingly different.  Convex uses shading and exaggeration of actual observed differences in the colors of light and shadow to depict the wonderfully complex and subtle structure of the human back.  Concave simplifies the depiction by just outlining the areas that light reveals in the model’s back.  It’s a technique often used in drawing quick gestural poses, when there’s no time to do shading.  The dividing line between light and shadow is treated as another contour, a simple line.  It’s a kind of indefinite anatomy, yet the sureness and clarity of the lines makes it something definite.  The different colors separate the resulting shapes, and like clouds or Rorschach blots, these outlined shapes  may evoke different images in the mind.

The idea my model and I were working with in the studio was to look at the difference between a rounded, closed pose, and an angular, open one.  There’s  a difference in mood, too, with Convex having, for me, a feeling of sadness, while Concave feels strong and confident.  The change in technique was an intuitive choice in the moment, responding to the differences in what I saw with a change of drawing technique.

Here’s another look at varying the technique in figure drawing.  I’m the monitor responsible for overseeing a weekly three-hour long-pose session at Minerva Durham’s legendary Spring Studio in New York.  It’s an open session where a mix of students and seasoned artists come to practice drawing from nude models.  In this particular session, we do one set of quick warmup poses, and then the model takes a single pose (with breaks every 20 minutes) for the remainder of the class.  I draw very quickly, and sometimes a long class has its pitfalls.  A drawing that starts out simple and strong can get lost in overdevelopment.  So last monday I made four different drawings during the session, all from the same model, in the same pose, and drawn from the same observational position.  Our model was the wonderful Betty.  All of these are 70 cm x 50 cm, aquarelle crayons on paper.  My first attempt was drawn mostly with the side of the crayons:

Betty 1a

Betty 1a, 2009, by Fred Hatt

This one captures an interesting combination of softness and strength, with perhaps a hint of sadness but also pride and confidence.  One of the other artists in the class said I shouldn’t do much more on this one, and I agreed, so I flipped it over and did another one on the back:

Betty 1b

Betty 1b, 2009, by Fred Hatt

Here I focused in close on the face, using only a combination of contour lines and cross-contour hatching.  This kind of drawing is like carving – it feels like cutting planes and angles into space.  This one was my favorite of the day, and I knew it would suffer from being worked any further, so I got another sheet of paper and started again:

Betty 2a

Betty 2a, 2009, by Fred Hatt

When I started this third one I fully intended to work it into a nice, finished full-color rendering.  The body was off to a good start, but the head was disproportionally large.  It’s very easy for that to happen, since the face has a lot more intricate details close together than other parts of the body and it’s hard to get them down in a small space.  I tried to fix it – you can see I used a gray crayon close to the paper color to cover over the top of the head and overdrew the upper part of the face smaller and lower than its original position.  But I can’t get away with that much correcting without ruining the clarity of the drawing, so I flipped this one over and started again.  By now the remaining class time was too short to do something really polished:

Betty 2b

Betty 2b, 2009, by Fred Hatt

So here I tried to expand the sculptural approach of the second try to a fuller head and torso view.

When I looked at these later, it struck me that they’re more interesting as a series than they are as individual pieces.  Because they’re not too finished they reveal a lot about how I analyze what I see, and the differences among them bring out the rough strengths of each.  It’s analagous to what a composer might do in a theme and variations, taking what may seem a simple melodic motif and turning it every which way and inside and out to reveal its glorious complexity.

If this stirs any response in you, please leave a comment!  Thanks.

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