Attitude Named Wenda

There are days when you have zero motivation to go to class. The weather's gray, you are late and in a rush, morning started bad, as you went to your critique group meeting after weeks of missing it, but since you've arrived last, by the time it was your turn it was also time for the parking police to come after the money of those who did arrive in time, plus you have to rush to class. So you don't get to show your art. Which sucks, as you know it was one of those days when you'd have gotten good inputs.

Yet you make yourself go. Because it's the last session with a model. Because the model might be the legendary Crow and you don't wanna miss on him. Because you finally got a decent armband for listening your iPod while drawing. Because you know that when you really resent going, it can turn out to be a great class.

So I dragged myself into the car, loaded it with the drawing supplies (that were left at home, needless to say), and whined my way there.

But all my bitching came to a halt when I set eyes on the model.

She was all attitude, in the best way. That is, attitude and long fiery red curls.

And her name was Wenda.

And she brought accessories and different hats.

And she went for poses just long enough to capture her without overworking.

And she didn't just sit there. Oh no, she was posing with all her might, pouring her personality into it.

She was the clothed model from the dreams, and you could tell she was having fun.

So was I.

That new iPod armband?

Haven't even taken it out of my purse. Now, that's what I call inspiration.

Need a Hand?

We had the figure drawing class today. Yes, the one with the talkative teacher, who's driving me nuts with his endless talking and taletelling, mostly since what he says doesn't always have much to do with art.

There are artists who manage to block everything out when they draw or paint. Not me, alas. I'm more the kind who needs the whole world to come to a halt in order to concentrate. And so, this drawing class used to send me home with a headache and murderous thoughts.

The JohnnyB kept telling me "why don't you take your iPod?".

Because.

I avoided this for weeks and months, but last week, after a session that was spent resisting a violent urge to go on a killing spree (and apparently I was not the only one with such aspirations...) I brought my iPod.

As did LimaB.

As did MembieK.

And for the last couple of sessions, the only injuries were the two birds I killed with one iPod: enjoying music while drawing - and blocking out the babbling and the background noise.

Works like magic.

Today we had a great model who showed up with a long dress and a big straw hat. As always, I started with the figure, but then got bored of doing the same thing. I decided to follow the teacher's recurring advice "don't show me what you know to do. Show me what you don't know!". (see - I hear the good stuff despite the earphones!).

Now, what do I not know to do?

A lot of things, But when it comes to the figure, the answer is simple: HANDS!

And our model was doing those graceful hand gestures, which intrigued me much more than the rest of her.

Yes, hands are tough, and I keep avoiding them, but if I never try, I'll go on doing the same thing over and over again and stay in my comfort zone forever.


Too easy, too comfy, and way too boring.

I gave it a go.

Yup, I have a lot more to learn and practice, but hey - it feels good to start facing your demons.

There's a Fine Line between Critique and Criticism...

...and today it was crossed.

Today was the last session of our figure class.

No models, no drawing, no mess - it was critique time!

Now, I've been through a lot of critique sessions since I dipped my little cotton socks (yeah, that's for you, Val!) in the deep water of art. Most classes and workshops involve critique, and I am very used to having my work reviewed by a critique group for the past 3 years (wow, has it really been 3 years already???).

And, I can take critique. I do not belong to those who seek the "WOW that is so amazing" response on each and every thing I do, as I don't believe in this kind of reaction. It's false, it's phony, and when you've done something that actually deserves it, how can you tell the difference?

But today - whew!

The teacher overdid himself. He made sure to give positive critique on at least one piece that everyone put on the wall, but then he went on a bloody merciless quest, aimed at helping us move forward, as he saw it.

Oh, so it's examples you want?

OK, here's one: "The eyes in this face look like he is blind. Or like someone poked it."

Or, "The drawing is very good, but the color... you know, it reminds me of the time we were kids and we were painting by numbers."

Or, "Looking at these two drawings, you can really see the contrast - because this one is so good... and the other one, well (chuckle), the good one just makes me not want to go back to the other one".

Or, "You overstated the creases in the dress. It's enough if you say something one time, you don't need to say it over and over again three hundred times".

Or, "This is supposed to be a self-portrait... well, I didn't know your mother, but I bet you she looked like that".

Or, "OK, you've shown us what you can do. Now - move on! show us what you cannot do."

And on.

- - - And on.

And, mind you, I didn't even get the harshest critique! My share was the highly ecouraging comment about saying something 300 times... and it was said about the little sketch of the crossed legs I did here , which I happen to like quite a bit. Some of the students looked at me with anticipation, but I remained calm. Well, except my eyes that were shooting arrows.

At some point, at he was roasting Al's work, he said "Mind you, everyone has an opinion, so even if I say something about a certain drawing, it doesn't necessarily mean that I am the gospel".

"No, you are not", said a little voice.

And soon enough, I ouched with pain as MembieM kicked my leg and frantically shushed me. "Oh, did I actually say that out loud?" I asked her, and her uncontrolled laughter proved to me that indeed, that little voice was mine.

But then, oh sweet revenge... MembieM wanted to share an incredible monoprint she did at a new exciting class she is taking. A wonderful portrait, truly impressive, absolutely expressive. She showed it to the appreciative class, and the teacher said "Oh, a monoprint. Let me tell you about monoprint... it's this process in which you smear ink on glass - "

"Actually, it's Plexiglas", said MembieM.

"OK, whatever - Plexiglas, and then you take some of the ink off, and transfer it to paper using a brayer - - "

"Um, we use a press", corrected MembieM.

"A what!?", grunted the teacher (he does not like to be interrupted nor contradicted - yeah, he's a man!).

"A press", replied MembieM with her sweetest smile.

"Yeah... anyhow", he proceeded to educate us, "then you make the print. Technically, it's not really a print, as you can only get one print out of it, so - - - "

"As a matter of fact, you can get two!", cheered MembieM and - like a magician pulling a bunny out of the hat - presented us with a second print of that very same image, or what's called 'the ghost'.

At that point, the teacher seemed quite miffed, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Sure, it may be small and petty, but looking around, I wasn't the only one giggling.

"Oh well, I guess so...", he surrendered. But, having to have the last word, he added "...and as you can all see, the ghost print is better!".

"Hmm... I disagree. The original print is MUCH better! it's got more mood!!!" - that was Val, who's just had enough.

"No, it's scary", snickered the teacher.

"Yeah, well, I did say mood", insisted Val.

While all that was going on, I kept myself from bursting out by delving into sketching. I captured Al and CrystieG as they were watching in disbelief the teacher slaughtering yet another painting.

So, that was a good exercise in ego-survival, and more than that: it showed me that I've become pretty immune to criticizing. Judging art is so subjective, different people will always have different opinions about different paintings, and nobody is the gospel when it comes to art. Some people can give their opinion in a nice way, and some, well... I won't share The JohnnyB's definition, as this blog is rated PG (at least it was, the last time I checked).

I just can't help pondering: what's the reason for this tendency of the teacher to put everything and everyone down, and antagonize the class? Is that what he considers to be tough love?

And you know what's the funniest thing? I'm gonna take this class again next semester.

I can see your jaw dropping with sheer astonishment: why in the world would I wanna do that!?

It's a combination of wanting to paint from life, liking the atmosphere in class and the fact that there are no Prima Donnas in it (which is very refreshing). Plus, there's also that simple primeval instinct to survive, as LimaB is taking it next semester, and I promised her that I would too...

If You Can't Win Them - Draw Their Limbs

Bill of the OnPainting blog has left a comment on my previous post, implying that I am yet to learn how to do some real whining.

That still hurts.

Badly.

And yet, always open to constructive criticism, I took it to my attention, and so today in class I decided to change my tactics.

Today was the last class with a model in the fall series. Our model introduced herself to us as Jan, said she was a replacement to the model we were supposed to have, and cheerfully proceeded to take over the class. I've never seen such a thing.

She then asked us what we want her to do. Before I managed to suggest that she fulfills my desire and go for short poses galore, Val jumped ahead. Now, y'all need to know something: to the untrained eye, Val seems like a very sweet polite British lady who would agree with whatever you say over a nice cuppa tea. However... once you spend more than twenty seconds with her, you realize that she is anything but. The glint in her eye gives it away, and any doubts you may have left are scattered the second you get acquainted with her ultra-sharp tongue. Show me the best sushi knife forged by skilled Japanese craftsmen - and it will turn dull in comparison. (needless to say, that's why I love her so).

Anyway - with her sweetest voice and most convincing innocent smile, Val said: "Oh, two long poses, please".

The model smiled back graciously at the nice British lady (of course, she doesn't know Val yet), and I knew the verdict has been made. with a big sigh, I informed Val that she's gonna star on my next blogpost, and braced myself towards yet another gazing session.

But wait!

That model was different. She had something about her: maybe the way she held herself, accompanied that inner self confidence and her vibrant personality that shone through; plus, she had wonderful hands.

"Y'know", I told myself "a model has other body parts other than just the head".

Walking around the room, I picked a spot that spoke to me the most, pose-wise. I relocated all my stuff there, and concentrated on her hand, which was nonchalantly resting on her knee.

Three 20-minute sessions plus a very helpful tip from the teacher yielded a hand that The JohnnyB, when seeing it, burst into a healthy laughter and delved in pointing out everything that's wrong about it. I went for the good ole' trick of handing him a brush, and he went back to reading his book.

OK, it's not perfect. And yes, perhaps years from now, when hands will become easy for me to do, I'll look at this one with a pitiful smile, but for my third attempt (or so) at hands, I like it.

After this pose, the model suggested a quick "loosening up" session, and burst into a series of ten 1-minute poses, forcing everyone in the room to get out of their comfort zone and have the ultimate artistic work-out.

Once we were all fit and adrenalized, she went back to the gazing state of being: pose number two.

Again, remembering Bill's scorching comment, I figured I'd better make the most out of it rather than whine.

The model was now seated on a chair, her legs crossed with her elbow on her thigh. With the palette and water bucket in one hand, watercolor pad balanced on my other palm and brushes between my teeth, I relocated - yet again - to the other side of the room, to a spot that offered some fun shapes and fabric folds and creases and tings.

I went for it.

(to those of you who wonder: yes, she was wearing Capri pants in the midst of November. Global warming has cometh to the Bay Area in the past week, I'm afraid).

And I think that for the very first time, I went through a figure class without doing the face!

Who would have thunk?

More Gazing

This is becoming frightfully repetitive, those models who pierce the classroom space with their bored eyes.

I am not complaining. Not really. Not sure what I'd do if I had to sit in the same pose for 3 hours, but for us class takers it kills inspiration, again and again.

Or does it?

Last week, at figure class, it was portrait time again. This time we had Paul, a guy with quite an ordinary face and a beret-like hat. Nothing exciting.

And yes, he just sat there. Gazing, as you'd expect.

We had 3 hours, and I was bored out of my mind to begin with, so I started off with just rendering his features, slouching in my chair and waiting for the time to pass. I just did them nonchalantly, holding my eyes wide open with my fingers in a desperate attempt to not fall asleep. What I felt towards this model was also reflected in the colors I chose. Did I mention sheer lack of excitement?

Another look at the clock - but I could swear someone has used Superglue on its hands. Time froze, the earth thawed, glaciers melted, penguins gently simmered in the hot-tub-like water - and Paul sat there, gazing.

To add to it all, he looked so much like someone I really, Really, REALLY loathe. I mentioned it to MembieM and CrystieG and they nodded in pity.

After I'd done 4 portraits of this guy, and as always happens when you paint the same subject several times and get to a point when you just wonder why - - - madness took place. I got angry. I got tired of this fancy faced model who sat there basking in the light of the lamp, looking so, so... beige.

My patience came to an end. I pulled out a set of vibrant watercolor brush pens that are probably non-archival and unprofessional - but I couldn't care less at that stage.

I lost all control, and started to have fun for the first time in that session.

Those who sat next to me got all excited at the fun colors (yeah, by now you may have guessed that everyone was reaching for the browns, not just me).

The teacher was doing his walks amongst us, complimenting everybody and raving about their work in extreme superlatives. When he saw mine - he came to a screeching halt, and then proceeded to the others. He was horrified, to say the least, which amused me a lot.

And then, after that got out of my system, I could move on to a more peaceful piece. After all, it wasn't the model's fault that he resembles someone I dislike, right?

This last one was sheer joy. Using one of those fun multicolored pencils, I let it do its own thing, used line to define shapes and kept restating rather than fixing or erasing, which added a sense of energy. The teacher? Ah, he was almost in tears... finally I came up with something that he absolutely loved. He couldn't take his eyes (and hands) off the drawing, and declared "This is your best drawing in this class".

I am not sure I agree with him, but I do like it.

Another Gaze

Figure class again.

One endless pose, yet again, like last week.

This time, the teacher wanted us to go for the portrait rather than the whole figure. Yes, I know what y'all are thinking. Indeed, I've been doing mostly portraits the whole time, but that was just me and a couple of others in class. Needless to say, because he told us to do a portrait, MembieM (who always, ALWAYS does stunning portraits) cheerfully went for a full-figure. I filed a complaint to her that being the rebel has always been my job, but she just laughed joyously and proceeded to capture the whole model - 'coz MembieM is a free spirit. Ain't nobody tellin' her what to paint.

Now, as much as I wanted to do the figure (and thus keep my rebellious reputation), I simply couldn't. The model (whose name, so I was told, was Paula) was wearing a beige sweatshirt and jeans, which is as boring as it gets. To add to it, she sat a chair and acted like... like... her portrait is being drawn or somethin'.

You know those formal portraits you see in galleries, of uberly blank-gazing people? Yup - that was the expression.

But - it is, after all, class. And we came there to render, so renderin' I went.

I sat next to MembieM and gave it a try. I did one on smooth Bristol surface, and then another one on watercolor paper. The second one actually turned out quite nice (but that's shall be shown in the sequel of this post, sometime next week).

Towards the the end, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to loosen up and get some fresh air into my soul, so I went for some (very) quick sketches of the artists around me. I managed to capture Val and Al at work. Now, THAT was fun! The model looked at me kinda nasty, but hey - she's had 2.5 hours of my undivided attention. That's more than enough, I'd say.

I no longer have these two sketches in my possession, as I gave them to their unsuspecting subjects(*). It was the fair thing to do. Glad I took photos, though.

(*) I'm guessing it would have looked much more professional to write "these two sketches are no longer in my possession, as they are collected". Ah well. Next time.

You Can Leave Your Hat On

Last week's figure class was with the dreaded 3-hour pose.

Why dreaded? because - as opposed to short poses - a long pose pretty much guarantees that the model will go for the most comfortable position s/he can assume.

That ultimately means no creative poses, no spontaneity, no fun gestures. They just gloomily gaze into space, looking stiff, frozen-faced and formal, thus not very inspiring.

And so, the model (named Ogden) sat in a chair.

For three hours; that translates into many 20 minutes sessions with 5-minute breaks in between. Yup, same damn pose!

But - he had a hat on. And he had nice lighting on his face, so I went for a portrait.

I have to say, the more portraits I do, the more I realize that I am getting worse in the non-portrait parts, as in backgrounds and anything that is not a face.

Hmm... something to work on.

Short Poses

When a model keeps the same pose for an hour or more, it gives enough time to fully capture the pose, fully render it, fully work on it and overwork it and get back into it and mess up the freshness and spontaneity.

Whereas short poses - ahhhh, I love them so! you look, you put on paper what it really is about the pose that makes you wanna capture it, and then the model changes to the next one.

Until a year ago or so, I used to regularly take a truly great class, in which we had models pose for periods of 30 seconds to 2 minutes. All you could really capture was the gesture; no time for eye lashes, hardly any time for the arms and legs. At the end of class, we were all dead tired, each of us with over 40 sketches, most of them quite crappy, but the point was that we learned to look, to see. And we learned that 2 minutes are a very long time. And the teacher was actually teaching, a different body part each session, tips about drawing of clothes and how to deal with the clothed figure - one of the best classes, which really changed the way I draw. Writing this, I realize how much I miss that class; maybe it's time to take it again.

Anyway, Thursday was the figure drawing class, and we had a wonderful full-figured young woman, incredibly graceful, with a flowing dress and a nice little hat. Highly professional, she delighted us with a great repertoire of inspiring short poses (10 minutes each), and the time flew by. Alas, she is the very first model in this class who said she prefers to not have her photo taken. Ah well, yet again I need to face the fact that I can't have the photos of everyone I want to paint.

I like quite a few of the quick sketches I made in class. So did the teacher, who kept chanting "less is more" and other favorite clichés.

Next class, he promised, it will be one single pose for the whole 3 hours!!!

I am so very tempted to play hookey...

All That Jazz

We had our second clothed figure drawing class session yesterday.

Being a class with a model, it's a hit or miss, at least for me. I personally find it tricky to draw or paint a model who doesn't make me respond with a desire to render them.

Last week we had a young pretty model (not a good start) who was wearing a black dress (not very inspiring) with long slits along the legs (OK, maybe there's hope) with some scarlet fabric showing through (getting better!) and a straw hat (Yay!!).

However - despite the wonderful possibilities her outfit had to offer, the teacher asked her to just sit in a chair. One single boring pose for the whole time. He also made her take off the hat, as it covers her face. The black dress made her look like a pile of dark, and the sitting pose was so uninspiring that it started a domino effect of people sneaking out. I managed to paint a bit with watercolors, but after two additional attempts I left. There was still more than an hour till the end of class.

I know, I know, some will say an artist has to adjust to whatever the circumstances are and make the most out of the model and the painting time. Well, not this artist. If no inspiration nor fun are involved, then what's the point except for getting frustrated?

But yesterday, ahhhh, yesterday we had Chuck. A male model whom - over the 6 years I've been doing art here - I came to know quite well. I did so many drawings of him in portrait class and life drawing class and quick sketching class.

He's a real pro, and - especially in the sketching classes - always brings something special. He once came with roller blades and delighted us with various skating poses, almost splitting his head open. Another time he was a cowboy, with a gun and all (NRA and Palin would've had tears of joy and pride). But, I've never actually painted him.


Yesterday, he came carrying musical instruments (as, among his other occupations, this guy is playing jazz).

He started with a standing pose, holding a flugelhorn, looking very convincing like someone who's just taking a short break from playin'.

I didn't feel like messing with charcoal that day, and so I went for watercolors - to the dismay of the teacher. He always preaches me to paint differently than I the way do, which sometimes annoys the hell out of me as I don't believe in following someone else's style of painting. I wanna paint like me, OK?

We only had three session of 15 minutes each for this pose, and when I was done, VallieM and MembieM looked at the painting and claimed they love the expression.

Me? I kinda liked what I ended up with, but to me, he seems to whine (quite justifiably) "what have I ever done to you that you gave me such tiny hands? Why oh why???". in my defense, let me say that almost everyone who tried to commemorate his hands came up with tiny squirrel-like hands like the ones I did. So there!.

The other was a sitting pose. "Oh, just sit in that chair" said the teacher.

I was just about to sigh and pack my stuff, expecting last week to déjà vu all over again, but wait - Chuck - being the professional model that he is - pulled it off beautifully, and went for a pose of someone in deep thought, holding his shiny blue saxophone in his lap (I haven't seen one before either. A blue saxophone, that is. Not a lap!), and looking very weary.

It was just the kind of scene I'd photograph if I saw it in a jazz club, so I cheerfully went for it. This time, I decided to actually draw him first, before going for the paintbrush. The teacher was overjoyed, almost in tears, when he saw me actually using a Pitt pen to render the figure with a quick line, claiming he appreciates what I am doing.

What can I say - it worked. No more deformed hand, no huge head on a tiny body, no reprimanding look from the painted model. And, since I was on a frenzy of listening to the teacher, I stopped in time before ruining the freshness of the quick brush strokes. (OK, I only ruined them a bit).

I came home very proud and showed my masterpieces to The JohnnyB.

"What do you think?" , I beamed with pride.

Being his usual honest self, he said: "I think you like these paintings much more than I do".

OK. At least when he says something good, I know he really means it.

But hey, the good news is that Chuck agreed to have his picture taken, so I went paparazzi on him. Now that I have reference photos and the on-location sketch, the sky is the limit. No?

Fun with a 99 cent Pencil

Thursday again. Figure drawing class begins in less than an hour, and I am - yet again - amazed by how fast the week has gone. Been busy putting the house back in a civilized state of being, so obviously, I didn't paint this week. Nor sketched. Nothin'.

But before I rush to class, I might as well post the fruits of the last one.

I almost didn't go last week. I was so demoralized by the previous one, that all desire to go through it again became extinct.

And yet - I know very well that this is the best mood to go to class with - zero expectations. I decided I'll go and see who the model is, and then make up my mind.

I arrived late, went into the room, sans my drawing board and paper, and one look at the model made me rush out to get the rest of the stuff. For once - someone who dressed for the occasion! She had a black fancy hat on, with a feminine figure and carried herself in a great way.

Only... this class was about 10-minute poses, and by the time I arrived, she went through the more interesting ones, so it seems. Or maybe she never had any.

I didn't feel like messing around with charcoal this time. So I took fun kids pencil I got a while ago (Michael's. 99 cents..), the one whose nib is made of endless colors and any line you make comes out very rainbowy.

A 10 minute pose is tricky. It doesn't allow enough time for a drawing, but it's too long for a sketch. I tried to keep it short - spent time examining the model, deciding what it is about her pose that makes me want to capture it, and then took the pencil in my hand.

That impressed the hell out of the teacher, who announced to the class "I want you to follow what this lady is doing" (lady? moi!?).

"You see", he carried on, "how she sits and first looks at the model, deciding WHAT it is she wants to paint? That's what I would like you all to do. Don't just jump at the paper - LOOK first. OBSERVE".

Being the sweet soul that I am, I did not share with him the fact that some poses were so uninspiring, that in some of them I spent the whole time observing without doing anything... especially when the model threw a shapeless sweater on, as she was getting bit cold. All that did not prevent her from repeatedly annoucning to us - and to the world in general - what a good model she is, and how she's been modeling for her mom (who's an artist) her whole life.

At the end of the day, I had 3 sketches that I like. I worked on losing edges, keeping it simple - putting in only what's necessary. All in all, I'm glad I went.



OK then - time to run to the next class.

Downhill?

Had the second session of the figure drawing class on Thursday. This time, a male model. An Asian man, who held the same pose throughout the whole 3 hours (yes, of course with 5-minute breaks!). The teacher intended that we have the opportunity to draw him from different angles, and have a sculptural comprehension of the figure.

The guy sat in the chair, very upright and calm, and took an emperor-like pose, looking very dignified and royal (save the missing teeth in his mouth). He had a great face, wonderful arms and expressive hands, his poise was so utterly perfect! everything I could wish for - - -

- - - and it made me feel so intimidated, so inadequate to capture him. The words of Alex Powers echoed in my head, yet again: "When a subject for a painting is extremely exciting... it inhibits changes and consequently curbs creativity".

Sure is.

In such a situation, one should make it easy on oneself, get acquainted with the new subject via drawing, keep it simple. Right?

Well, not when the one is yours truly..

Rather than going for charcoal, I decided on watercolor as my first attempt, introducing color to the challenge. This time, I did use my better paints, but did not get rid of the low-grade paper (I know, I know, Sandy... but hey - one step at a time).

I was loose, and daring, and colorful, and expressive - I was having a good time!

Then came the teacher.

"Too much line", he said.

"Too much information", he said.

"Less is more", he said.

"Too much going on", he said.

"It reminds me what my pappy used to say to me: 'Don't put on your plate more than you can eat'", he reminisced.

Ahhh, the hell with it!

I put the watercolor aside, abandoned my table and went to sit on the floor below the model, this time reverting to the charcoal, which gave me fame last week.

But - I was already pissed. I keep telling myself that I should not draw/paint in order to get a "wow" from the teacher, as teachers tend to wow about results that match what they like (by now I know that critique is never objective, nor is it detached from personal taste). And yet, negative feedback still gets to me, carrying a short-term impact.

I started to draw aiming at putting less details in, trying to leave a lot for the viewers to complete in their minds.

I came up with quite a decent drawing, that got a lot of appreciative looks from a fellow-drawer who was sitting next to me. Cool.

Then I started to ruin it. Don't ask me why. I was annoyed, hence I got into this vicious circle of making myself more irritated. I am good at that.

Then it was time for the last 20 minutes.

10 minutes, actually, as the end was near. (of class, that is).

I rushed to the restroom, restored the pinkness of my hands (I believe I broke a whole new record of being covered with charcoal!), and reached for the watercolor crayons and a new piece of paper. All these preparations have cost me 5 more precious minutes

"I'm just gonna have fun now!", I exclaimed to my angry self.

I chose to concentrate on the hands this time, did a quick study in 5 minutes. Wrong proportions, totally unfinished, but I kinda like it.

The good news is that the model allowed photography. ("only for reference, not for publishing", he warned me. Well, Duh!). I cannot grasp how come I was the only one who took his photos!

So, some day I might actually make a successful piece with the photos and based on these studies.

He really does have a great face!

Back To Basics

it's been a long time since I last took a drawing class. Way too long.

On Thursday, I started a new one - figure drawing. Clothed figure this time. Yeah, I know - a lot of you non-artists think w'all stare at naked bodies under the excuse of drawing them. Well, not quite. At some point, you kinda get tired of it. And clothed models become much more exciting. Clothed figures have more movement to capture (well, yes, some nude models also manage to produce movement, but let's not get into this...).

So - that was the first class, with the first model. A pretty woman in her 30s, which immediately made her an uninspiring subject. Plus, she wore a simple dress with an annoying greenish patterned-fabric, that was visible enough to obscure the light and shadow, but not interesting enough for shapes. She then took an ordinary pose, just standing there, and to top it all, I had the luck to face her back. With too many students in the class to relocate to a different spot, I was stuck.

OK...

When the subject is conventional, you can either give up - or turn to your creativity glands.

I took the charcoal stick (which I have not used forever!), and started to render the figure, recalling my long-forgotten measuring skills. Still boring. I blocked in some dark areas, then used my kneaded eraser to add highlights (one of my favorite things about charcoal), and started to have fun. Luckily, I brought with me the whole bag of charcoal goodies, from the fair shy vine charcoal, to the darker willow one, to the compressed charcoal, and when she took the final 20 minutes of the pose, I went for the big daddy of charcoal, a thick stick of the darkest charcoal that makes wonderful dramatic darks. Not for the faint hearted, as there is no way to erase it, mind you.

When I was done, the teacher picked up my drawing, and raved to the class, pointing all the good things about it, while I busied myself looking for a place to hide, as you don't quite what to do with yourself at such occasions.

A short break - and it was time for the second pose.

The model slumped herself on a chair, and - lo and behold, had her face towards me!!

Inspired by what MembieM did in the previous pose, I decided to go for a close up, and use watercolors this time. I have never ever painted a portrait in a drawing session (well, once, and on pastel, but that was 4 years ago, and it was disastrous). Aha - much trickier, especially when all I had to work with were my cheap pad of paper and my low-grade watercolors that I keep taking to classes and workshops in order to get rid of them, but instead I only get lousy results, as I resent working with them. Well, a lesson for next time.

Needless to say, this time the teacher did not glorify my masterpiece, except for congratulating me on my free and loose style (yes, he is a sweet encouraging soul). Instead, he chose to embarrass MembieM, who came up with an incredible charcoal drawing.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed the exercise, even if not the result. Poor gal, I may need to go back into the painting and save her from the fate of an unshaved woman with a shiner... I do like the way her dress turned out, though.

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