Larry D. Marshall's Blog, page 44

A Quick Trip Across The River

We made a quick sketching trip across the St. Lawrence River, back to Maison Alphonse-Dejardins last week.  With the holidays rushing towards us I entirely forgot to write about it so here’s the abridged version.

[image error]We went.  We were there.  We had fun.  I drew a cabinet hanging on the kitchen wall, mostly because of all the goodies hanging from it.  I shot this photo of sketch and cabinet as I waited for the first bit of paint to dry.  Once dry, I added more color and this was the result.  I mucked up the shadows but nobody’s perfect

Leaf-tailed Geckos In Quebec

In the nanotechnology exhibit of our museum rests a glass box and inside is a stick and a small plant – a terrarium of sorts.  It’s raison d’etre is to house two of the oddest creatures – leaf-tailed geckos.

They’re only six inches long.  They have none of the flair of the whiptail lizards I used to chase when I lived in Arizona and none of the venom of the gila monsters I avoided.  No, if you walked by these guys in a forest you wouldn’t even see them and quite often that’s the situation in our museum as well.  I’d been waiting for today.

You see, the reason they’re in our nanotechnology exhibit is that they have nano-hairs on their feet.  These are hairs so fine that they can cling to glass, those hairs ‘sticking’ to glass molecules using Vanderwaal forces, the forces that hold molecules together.  And finally, today, one of these lizards was sticking to the glass out where I could see and draw him.

The view I had was a top view and I wanted to capture both its shape and the fact that when they do this they are squashed down flat to the glass.  They remind me of how Wile E. Coyote looks after the Roadrunner dropped an anvil on him.  They are really flat.  In the end it doesn’t make much of a sketch but I walked away quite satisfied that I’d accomplished the task.

Mistakes: The Best Learning Opportunity

I have caught more than a little criticism when I’ve said things in internet groups that are less than flattering about my own sketches.  Mostly those comments come in the form of ‘don’t be hard on yourself’ and ‘there are no mistakes in art.’  I often wonder if these comments don’t say more about the people writing them than about me.  It’s always seemed to me that the best opportunities for learning come from when I’ve made a mistake.  If I don’t acknowledge my mistakes, I can’t learn from them.  One thing is clear, I NEVER learn anything from my successes.  They are but a reflection of what I already know.  It’s the mistakes that expose what I don’t know or things I’ve yet to master.

I study my mistakes often (I’m comfortable enough with myself that this doesn’t bother me) and I thought I’d share one such analysis.  This sort of thing doesn’t see the light of day very often, though, in this case I did post the sketch as documentation of a sketching session I did with Yvan at Maison Alphonse-Dejardins.

When doing a sketch like this I would normally draw, very lightly in pencil, a series of cubes to locate and proportion the two cabinets and the table.  I didn’t do that in this instance.  I just “went for it” as some would advocate.  Not bad advice but when the drawing becomes more complex, it’s far better to start with a bit of scaffolding for two reasons.  The first is that it lets you compare that scaffolding to what you’re looking at and allows you to correct it before continuing.  Second, once the scaffolding is in place, you can stop worrying about proportions/locations and just have fun drawing.

My approach started with “Simple enough, I’ll just draw the high and low angles of the scene and proceed from there.”  With those two lines in place and a horizon line, I felt everything else would fall into place.  You can see that decision reflected in the red horizon line and the two blue angle lines that frame the scene.

This is where things went haywire.  Notice the two  green lines.  I drew the left-most line first.  I’d let my vanishing point wander left quite a bit.  Then, wanting to nail down the table edge, I drew that line.  Notice that my brain pulled it back towards the proper vanishing point somewhat but as I drew it I’m sure I was looking at the countertop line and “saw” the relationship between them and my brain struck a compromise, trying to accommodate the proper vanishing point as well as the relationship between table and countertop.

In my opinion, THIS is the sort of frustration that comes from not doing preliminary scaffolding. You’re constantly chasing your last error, trying to accommodate it into the drawing and one thing is certain, two wrongs don’t make a right in sketching.

Notice that when I drew the doors on the lower cabinet (orange line) my brain had returned to the vanishing point and while these look the worst when it comes to alignment to the rest, they are actually more accurately drawn.

So, what did I learn?  First, the power of early scaffolding (or blocking in if that’s the terminology you prefer) is invaluable.  I actually know that but I guess I needed a reminder.  Sadly, this step is so under-reported when people teach sketching that I didn’t learn it until I’d been sketching for a couple years and it seems that too often I revert back to my pre-scaffolding days, generally with the results you see above.

The other thing I learned is that while my brain tries to accommodate for an error, even without my knowledge, it doesn’t do a very good job of it.  In this post-analysis, I’m not sure what could have been done at this stage as long pen lines are hard to move, so maybe I should forgive it for not finding a solution.

In the end, by actually thinking about what I did wrong, no emotional trauma occurred but I did learn something.  Maybe this will reinforce my brain to insist on locating objects and getting their proportions correct, BEFORE I start drawing rather than trying to fix errors as they occur.  Hope this short analysis has been helpful to some.

Sketching With The Jesuits

Last Sunday we met at the Maison des Jésuites de Sillery as our monthly Croquistes de Québec sketchcrawl.  Our time window was short because these small museums that are scattered around Quebec don’t open until 1PM during the winter but they are warm and they do have stuff to draw.   This particular place is a large two-story house, associated chapel, and the foundations of the original church that was across the street.  Contained within it are a bunch of artifacts that tell the story of this 18th Century missionary settlement.

While most were drawn to displays on the second floor, I couldn’t resist the golden eagle that was on display.  Halfway through the drawing I was wishing I’d chosen something else.  Did you realize that eagles have a lot of feathers?   I did like this view, however, as it’s a little different than the typical sideways, head up of most eagle photos/drawings.  Anyways, here’s what resulted from my interaction with this beautiful bird.

Stillman & Birn Beta softcover (8×10), Pilot Falcon, Diluted DeAtramentis Document Black

Xmas Card Sketching Is Fun

Every year I see a bunch of Christmas cards, drawn, scanned and posted by talented sketchers everywhere.  I’ve never been so inclined, possibly because I’m not a fan of typical Christmas iconology.  This year, however, people in our group wanted to do a card-making session so I made my first Christmas cards.  The most common method was to look at pictures in books and reflect those ideas on the card.  Because I’m trying to exercise my very, very limited imagination these days, I decided to just “make stuff up.”  I can’t say the results were stellar but I sure had fun doing them.  These were done on inexpensive watecolor paper cut and folded in half to the size of a typical card.

Lisette hosted the session which provided special treats.  She does really nice watercolors and each room held at least one gem and her studio held a bunch of wonderful watercolors.  And she made soup and homemade bread for lunch.  Both were fantastic  I admit that I stuffed myself.  Then she brought out homemade carmel corn, muffins and Guylaine brought gingerbread cookies.  Before lunch was over I was double-stuffed and I was only able to draw one more card during the afternoon session.  Here’s a photo of most of the cards made that day, by the seven people in attendance.

Old-Time Kitchen Sketching

In recent weeks I’ve had to forsake urban sketching because it’s just too darn cold outside and so I’ve started doing domestic sketching (my name for studio sketching as the opposite of urban sketching) and historic sketching (drawing from old photos).  Seems there is jargon-ese convergence in what I present today – historic, domestic, urban sketching.

Yvan and I braved the cold and took the ferry to Levis, where we climbed the hill and made our way to Maison Alphonse-Dejardins.  Dejardins is the guy who started the Quebec banking system and his home is now a museum in his honor.  I was on location and sketching and thus, I was an urban sketcher again.  But this time my target was the sink and counter in the smallish kitchen in this home.  Next time I’ll do the coal-fired stove cuz it’s a dandy.  And in one swoop, this sketch is both historic and domestic.  Voila, I did historic, domestic, urban sketching (grin).

I know, I’m being silly, but then the labels we put on everything, and worse, the debates over what qualifies as fitting a label are pretty silly too.  Anyways, here’s the sketch I did in a Stillman & Birn Beta (8×10) softcover sketchbook.  I kinda let the perspective get away from me but what the heck, if they were all perfect there’d be no reason to continue trying.

Urban Sketching In 2029???

There I was, with John Connor, fighting against the machines.  Somehow my fountain pen didn’t seem quite up to the task.  Truthfully, neither was I.  The machines had taken over the Earth and they were in the process of exterminating the human race.  They were everywhere, as was evidence of the carnage.  What’s an urban sketcher to do?  Draw, of course.  A little thing like the annihilation of the human race can’t slow down an urban sketcher.

Ok…so I lied.  Actually, I was at our Museum of Civilisation, in the nanotechnology exhibit.  In that exhibit is a full-size model of the Terminator of movie fame in all its shiny metal glory and, of course, it’s posed over several broken skulls.  In honor of John Connor I did my best to capture the remains of the 2029 urban landscape.  I drew the skulls.

Stillman & Birn Beta softcover (8×10), Pilot Falcon, DeAtramentis Document Black (diluted)

The Social Side Of Sketching

Many artists toil away in studios and much has been written about the solitary life of an artist.  Some of this seems to spill over into the sketching world too, mostly because people are unsure of themselves and reluctant to sketch outdoors or with others.  I suppose that’s understandable.  And as unfounded as those fears are, they are a barrier to the real fun of being a sketcher.

When a sketcher takes the plunge, hits the streets, sketches in public and then with a group, they find not only acceptance but great benefits to sketching in the midst of other sets of eyes.  It’s not about being told how great you are, though.  What quickly becomes important are the small, friendly conversations that you have with passers-by on the streets or with your sketching buddies.  With the world and Facebook (are these different) seemingly going mad all around us, those conversations bring hope and a feeling that humanity isn’t lost.

And so it was when Yvan invited our Thursday group to his place for a sketching session.  Yvan has a studio that’s jam-packed with eye candy because he collects everything from plaster heads and bones/skulls to vases and animal figures as potential drawing subjects.  Everywhere you look is inspiration and if you are overwhelmed by the potential, he’s got a library of art books that exceeds that of the Quebec public library system.  Oh, and he had homemade soup and bread for lunch.

Six of us arrived at 10AM but we probably didn’t start sketching until 11AM because of all the stuff to see and talk about.  But ultimately we grabbed something to draw and the room went quiet.  We were in sketchers-ignore-everyone mode buried deep in the neural connections between eye and hand.  I started by drawing the backside of a dog statue that Louise had decided to draw from the front.

By the time I finished some conversation had re-emerged but I started doing a quick sketch of some of the things on a shelf in the window.  I include it only to keep the story complete as it is unfinished, not good, and I smeared the ink as I worked.  Besides, by then I was engrossed in a conversation about Craftsy courses and how face shape, more than eyes or nose, identify a particular person.

Then it was time for lunch and what a lunch it was.  When we schedule our Thursday events, we’re all on our own about lunch so everyone brings sandwiches and such.  But on this day, Yvan had made a wonderful lentil/veggie soup that was spectacular and he’d baked fresh bread.  The sandwiches stayed in our bags.  Louise brought a bar of gourmet chocolate for dessert.  Conversations ensued and another hour or so passed.  I spent some of the time looking at Yvan’s two-volume set of Van Dyck’s Antwerp sketchbooks.  Amazing and certainly worth further study.

Eventually, though, we got back to drawing.  I was in the mood to be challenged by an odd shape and I saw several sketches of a deer vertebra in one of Yvan’s sketchbooks.  I asked him about it, he presented it, and I tried to draw it.  Yep.. I was challenged.  There’s at least one major error and, I’m sure, a bunch of minor ones.  But such things sharpen the eye and if you take time to compare the end result to the original, you can teach the brain a lot about how to see.

Things were starting to wrap up and a couple of our group started packing to leave.  I thought I had a few more minutes, though, so I started sketching my tea cup.  Very quickly I drew the basic shape and then started slathering it with oranges and leaves.  It was lots of fun and a perfect end to the day.  Sketching in a group is special.  I hope you get a chance to do it, and do it often.

Sketching The Red Door

I love the doors of Quebec.  I’ve often thought that an entire sketchbook filled with doors and windows of Quebec City would be great.  If were even a little bit organized in my approach to sketching, I might just do one.  For today, though, here’s a single door, well actually two of them, done from a photo (my photo) on 7.5×11 Fabriano Artistico cold press.  I love this paper but it’s a bit rough for my very fine fountain pens.

Domestic Sketching: Quebec City When I Was Born

I’ve mentioned that this winter I was going to try to learn to draw at an indoor workspace and to draw from photos.  I know it sounds odd to those of you who do it all the time, but I’ve spent five years drawing on location and have a really hard time drawing in a ‘studio’ or from photos.

In this I’m very much like the dog that’s got to walk around in circles a couple times before it lays down.  Location sketching, for me, is about discovering something to draw, which requires wandering a bit.  There is no wandering in a studio.  Once I get going on an indoor drawing I seem to be able to do it and even enjoy it, but initiating the behavior… that’s harder.

I decided it was time, though, to draw from a photo.  Looking for something that would motivate me to do so, I decided that I should draw from a photo that is not of something I can go out and see.  The idea of historic sketching must have come from my watching the new Timeless series, which is about time travel, but as I already have a lot of historic photos of Quebec City I thought that was where I should begin.  I chose a photo of a trolley, both because I like trolleys and because it was taken in the year that I was born.

I started by lightly drawing everything using a Platinum Carbon Pen, keeping the lines very light so I could cover my errors if needed.  This is what I ended up with:

7.5×11 Fabriano Artistico cold press, Platinum Carbon pen

To bring a more solid nature to the drawing I started increasing the contrast, using a Platinum 3776 pen and a Platinum brush pen.  This got the drawing to this point:

Then it was time for color and touch up.  I still struggle with watercolors but at least I’m starting to pay attention to it.  I was pretty happy with the results.  Hope you are as well.  I think I’ll be doing more historic sketching.