Now that we're back from our St. Augustine vacation, I was able to go to a life drawing session last night. I wound up drawing the figure with a Sharpie pen and had some interesting discussions about the process with the other artists.
I decided to use pen and ink in a deliberate effort to force myself to loosen up. That sounds counter-intuitive, doesn't it? It's not. A Sharpie is a harsh instrument to draw with. Everything is either very black or very white, with sharp edges and little variation in line width. It looks very mechanical, even industrial. And it seems to demand that you get it right the first time, since it can't be corrected. The human figure is the opposite, particularly when the figure is a female: it's soft and rounded, with infinite variation in color, shade, shadows, and shapes.
My approach is to let the pen fly. One line rarely defines a shape. Maybe, occasionally, one line will suffice along an edge, but usually, it's multiple lines that suggest the shape curving away. Shadows can be suggested by hatching and cross-hatching. The closer they are, the darker the shadow. In the detail below, check out the shadows of her ribs compared to those under her arm.
Pen and ink initially makes you think that you have to get it right, which tightens artists up so much that they're afraid to make a mark. I go in the opposite direction: it is not, and never will be, "right". The model didn't really have a series of hash marks across her chest. Those are just marks of something that is not really there. But when those marks are combined with the white spaces of the paper in between, then the viewer's eye reads it as a light shadow. So something that's "wrong" actually reads like it's "right".
For me, this approach works best when I work fast. That keeps me from obsessing over details and adds a vitality and energy to the drawing. Your eye picks up on the details, even if your conscious brain doesn't. Notice the shadow marks in the ribs: you'll see the hook marks as one line ends and the pen moves over to the next line, or you'll see the rapid back-and-forth without lifting. Some lines will just be wrong no matter what. There's a couple of vertical lines in the shoulder that I put in during the initial blocking. It would've been better if they were angled lines, like the ones I put in later, but they weren't. No matter. Stuff happens when you work fast.
When I'm drawing with a Sharpie, even more so than when I'm drawing with a pencil, my hand tends to dance over the paper. That's the best description I can think of. Keep the pen moving, bouncing from one thing to the next. Keep your eyes on the subject. Look at the shape of the form, the shape of the shadows, and let your hand (and pen) follow your eyes. Don't try to make your drawing match the subject because it won't.
Another metaphor just popped into my head. If you've ever been snow skiing, you know the difference between slowly and laboriously creeping down a slope, and flying down a slope with your skis and poles barely in contact with the snow. One is painful to do and watch, the other is a glorious rush. That's the same thing with drawing. Obsess over every individual detail and you'll miss the excitement.
Claire #8
I decided to use pen and ink in a deliberate effort to force myself to loosen up. That sounds counter-intuitive, doesn't it? It's not. A Sharpie is a harsh instrument to draw with. Everything is either very black or very white, with sharp edges and little variation in line width. It looks very mechanical, even industrial. And it seems to demand that you get it right the first time, since it can't be corrected. The human figure is the opposite, particularly when the figure is a female: it's soft and rounded, with infinite variation in color, shade, shadows, and shapes.
My approach is to let the pen fly. One line rarely defines a shape. Maybe, occasionally, one line will suffice along an edge, but usually, it's multiple lines that suggest the shape curving away. Shadows can be suggested by hatching and cross-hatching. The closer they are, the darker the shadow. In the detail below, check out the shadows of her ribs compared to those under her arm.
Pen and ink initially makes you think that you have to get it right, which tightens artists up so much that they're afraid to make a mark. I go in the opposite direction: it is not, and never will be, "right". The model didn't really have a series of hash marks across her chest. Those are just marks of something that is not really there. But when those marks are combined with the white spaces of the paper in between, then the viewer's eye reads it as a light shadow. So something that's "wrong" actually reads like it's "right".
For me, this approach works best when I work fast. That keeps me from obsessing over details and adds a vitality and energy to the drawing. Your eye picks up on the details, even if your conscious brain doesn't. Notice the shadow marks in the ribs: you'll see the hook marks as one line ends and the pen moves over to the next line, or you'll see the rapid back-and-forth without lifting. Some lines will just be wrong no matter what. There's a couple of vertical lines in the shoulder that I put in during the initial blocking. It would've been better if they were angled lines, like the ones I put in later, but they weren't. No matter. Stuff happens when you work fast.
When I'm drawing with a Sharpie, even more so than when I'm drawing with a pencil, my hand tends to dance over the paper. That's the best description I can think of. Keep the pen moving, bouncing from one thing to the next. Keep your eyes on the subject. Look at the shape of the form, the shape of the shadows, and let your hand (and pen) follow your eyes. Don't try to make your drawing match the subject because it won't.
Another metaphor just popped into my head. If you've ever been snow skiing, you know the difference between slowly and laboriously creeping down a slope, and flying down a slope with your skis and poles barely in contact with the snow. One is painful to do and watch, the other is a glorious rush. That's the same thing with drawing. Obsess over every individual detail and you'll miss the excitement.
