We see nothing truly till we understand it.
John Constable
***************
Hello Anlong Veng, Cambodia
******************************
"He undressed me with his eyes" she said.
I took a basic geology course in college. I always enjoyed looking at nature, including mountains, rocks and pebbles on the beach. But until I found out something about them I didn't really know what I was looking at. Once I learned about igneous, stratified and metamorphosed rock, inclusions and erosiaon, I began looking at rocks in a new way, analyzing the stone walls I walked past and tried to imagine what was happening under the ground of chunks of rock that were sticking out of it. I made a special trip to the Museum of Natural History in New York to look at the moon rock.
I always loved good music and had an ear for it but it wasn't until I studied it and learned about intervals, (two tones sounding together or one after the other), triads, (three notes sounding together) plus other tones added on to make complex chords, rules of harmony ad counterpoint, forms, (fugues, sonatas, theme and variations, etc.) and instrumentation, that I really began to hear and appreciate music.
It was the same with art. When I first tried to draw the human figure I couldn't see past the skin. I was being instructed to look for certain structures of the body, cranium, rib cage, pelvis. It took me many months before I finally began to see them and could then begin to understand other outcroppings of the figure, the shoulder, arm, hand. hip joint, leg, knee and foot. I learned about the bones and how the muscles attached to them and how they functioned. I learned it so well I could tell where those structures were even if a person was dressed. The she could really say "He undressed me with his eyes." But I wasn't doing it in the way she might think. I could see how an artist could paint a dressed figure and make it look realistic, because the human figure was there for the clothing to embrace.
So what is the most difficult thing to see, to understand? Us. The human being. It's because we aren't igneous, stratified or metamorphosed rock. We aren't tones, intervals and triads. Instead of cranium, rib cage and pelvis we are a complex of thoughts, feelings and actions. It would be a simple matter to know ourselves if we were as easy to analyze as a bunch of rocs. (Some people think other people are.) But when you look in the mirror what do you see, a pair of eyes, a nose, a mouth? If you're a woman you might fuss with your hair. Some men do that too. But you know what you're looking at isn't the real you or all there is to you. The real person is invisible and won't be seen until understood.
DB - The Vagabond
-------------------------
Never give up.
*********************
SPRING QUESTION
(This is not a contest)
NASA has planned to send a two man mission on an 18 month trip to the planet Mars. It would take 6 months for the astronauts to get there and after 6 months of exploration another 6 months to return.
Should they do it and why, and if not, why not?
dbdacoba@aol.com
Only 6 answers so far
I eagerly await your answer.
DB
******************
Showing posts with label life drawing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life drawing. Show all posts
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
In The Cave
The great arrogance of the present is to forget the intelligence of the past.
Ken Burns
**********************
I was going through a recent copy of Art News admiring some of the work that's current and noticing the great range of materials artists can work with these days: computer graphics, lasers, and a great array of colors and media. Some of the pieces are simply low in quality and craftsmanship, displaying a juvenile lack of imagination. But there are others which push at the limits of their materials and hoist up one's own imagination as one views them. But on one page is a portrait, a simple drawing, charcoal on paper, by the 15th Century artist Francesco Bonsigniori. It got me to thinking about how art has developed over the years and how much the past can influence the present. But some things never change: imagination, creativity, artistry, observation, articulation and the love and necessity of doing it.
A few years ago I became interested in the ancient cave paintings while I was working on a story about prehistoric people. Those paintings are mostly of animals. They were painted deep in the caves lit only by torchlight, using the simplest of materials. The cave artists had some primitive colors obtained by grinding up rock. The also used the bulges and folding of the cave walls to define the muscles and limbs of the animals they were drawing.
Some of the depictions are of standing animals, some running, some in herds, with hunting scenes and some that could be attacks. Stories are being told in pictures. Many of the drawings are crude and not well done, but there are quite a few that are excellent. Much has been written about those cave paintings but there is one thing about them that, in my opinion, is the most remarkable of all and I haven't read any accounts of it anywhere, so maybe this is the first.
Back in the early 80"s when I first began to study art I took a life drawing class with Gregory D'Lessio, who was an excellent teacher. He would arrange exercises for us designed to improve our observation and expression. Some of the poses the model took were long, 25 minutes or more. But others were short, one minute or less. During those one couldn't do any detailed drawing but tried to get the general position and attitude of the model. Those are called gesture drawings. Then once or twice a week he would have the model pose for one minute while we did no drawing but only observed the pose. Then the model would break the pose and we would have to draw what we had seen. Those were called memory gesture drawings. After resting for a minute the model would take the pose again, so we could see see how we had done, and then go on to the next one. Those were very difficult exercises to do. Very difficult.
When I wasn't in class I would sometimes sit on the steps of a building, watch the people passing by and try to draw them as I had seen them, trying to get the position, the form and movement of the person, trying to remember what I had seen.
Many of those prehistoric caves are very deep, small, difficult to get to and there is no sunlight. There are no animals running back and forth inside those caves. And that means all the figures and scenes drawn by those prehistoric artists deep in the cave had to be done from memory.
And that is amazing. They were learning how to draw in those ancient times just the way I was but without all the benefits of the 20th Century. How well did they do it? See for yourself.
Paleolithic Cave Paintings
DB - The Vagabond
**************************
WINTER QUESTION
(This is not a contest)
What was the most significant event that happened in 2010?
dbdacoba@aol.com
Only 5 responses so far
I await your answer.
DB
******************************
Ken Burns
**********************
I was going through a recent copy of Art News admiring some of the work that's current and noticing the great range of materials artists can work with these days: computer graphics, lasers, and a great array of colors and media. Some of the pieces are simply low in quality and craftsmanship, displaying a juvenile lack of imagination. But there are others which push at the limits of their materials and hoist up one's own imagination as one views them. But on one page is a portrait, a simple drawing, charcoal on paper, by the 15th Century artist Francesco Bonsigniori. It got me to thinking about how art has developed over the years and how much the past can influence the present. But some things never change: imagination, creativity, artistry, observation, articulation and the love and necessity of doing it.
A few years ago I became interested in the ancient cave paintings while I was working on a story about prehistoric people. Those paintings are mostly of animals. They were painted deep in the caves lit only by torchlight, using the simplest of materials. The cave artists had some primitive colors obtained by grinding up rock. The also used the bulges and folding of the cave walls to define the muscles and limbs of the animals they were drawing.
Some of the depictions are of standing animals, some running, some in herds, with hunting scenes and some that could be attacks. Stories are being told in pictures. Many of the drawings are crude and not well done, but there are quite a few that are excellent. Much has been written about those cave paintings but there is one thing about them that, in my opinion, is the most remarkable of all and I haven't read any accounts of it anywhere, so maybe this is the first.
Back in the early 80"s when I first began to study art I took a life drawing class with Gregory D'Lessio, who was an excellent teacher. He would arrange exercises for us designed to improve our observation and expression. Some of the poses the model took were long, 25 minutes or more. But others were short, one minute or less. During those one couldn't do any detailed drawing but tried to get the general position and attitude of the model. Those are called gesture drawings. Then once or twice a week he would have the model pose for one minute while we did no drawing but only observed the pose. Then the model would break the pose and we would have to draw what we had seen. Those were called memory gesture drawings. After resting for a minute the model would take the pose again, so we could see see how we had done, and then go on to the next one. Those were very difficult exercises to do. Very difficult.
When I wasn't in class I would sometimes sit on the steps of a building, watch the people passing by and try to draw them as I had seen them, trying to get the position, the form and movement of the person, trying to remember what I had seen.
Many of those prehistoric caves are very deep, small, difficult to get to and there is no sunlight. There are no animals running back and forth inside those caves. And that means all the figures and scenes drawn by those prehistoric artists deep in the cave had to be done from memory.
And that is amazing. They were learning how to draw in those ancient times just the way I was but without all the benefits of the 20th Century. How well did they do it? See for yourself.
Paleolithic Cave Paintings
DB - The Vagabond
**************************
WINTER QUESTION
(This is not a contest)
What was the most significant event that happened in 2010?
dbdacoba@aol.com
Only 5 responses so far
I await your answer.
DB
******************************
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Champion Cuisine 4/07/09
Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.
Truman Capote
***************
Yo.
-------------------
Although it has its uses, "failure" is a nasty tasting dish. And if you make the mistake of mixing it with "I give up" then you have something which is really foul. It's good for nothing but to be flushed.
Ah but wait! Take the "failure" and put it in a bowl along with a stick of "lesson learned" (melted) and a packet of "I'll try again." Mix that up. Then check the spice rack for a container marked "I deserve success." Throw some of that in the bowl, stir and taste. Still not right? Okay, look on the shelf in the back of the fridge for a jar labeled "I can do it." Spoon some of that into the bowl and mix it up. Now you have a zesty Tartar Sauce, or what Edward, my teacher used to call "Ta Ta Sauce."
Dab a couple of generous helpings of that on your red snapper of success and say "Ta Ta" to the failure.
When I started to learn art I went to a life drawing class every Saturday morning. In my first class the model was a very large retired fellow. There was so much to him I thought it was like drawing a mountain. It was a ten minute pose. I drew a picture a little bit larger than my thumb. The instructor came by, looked at it and said nothing except "Carry on."
I was at the point where the nasty peck of "failure" was saying "You can't do this. Give it up." But I didn't give it up. I signed up for even more classes and kept drawing until I could do it. Eventually I learned something about painting. I won a few awards in exhibits and sold a few things.
I kept that first drawing around for a long time, not just to humble myself when I needed to, but also to show me how far I had come.
Failure happens. But all one needs is the right recipe to turn it into the right sauce.
DB - The Vagabond
_________________
May you see "crowds of daffodils."
******************************
Truman Capote
***************
Yo.
-------------------
Although it has its uses, "failure" is a nasty tasting dish. And if you make the mistake of mixing it with "I give up" then you have something which is really foul. It's good for nothing but to be flushed.
Ah but wait! Take the "failure" and put it in a bowl along with a stick of "lesson learned" (melted) and a packet of "I'll try again." Mix that up. Then check the spice rack for a container marked "I deserve success." Throw some of that in the bowl, stir and taste. Still not right? Okay, look on the shelf in the back of the fridge for a jar labeled "I can do it." Spoon some of that into the bowl and mix it up. Now you have a zesty Tartar Sauce, or what Edward, my teacher used to call "Ta Ta Sauce."
Dab a couple of generous helpings of that on your red snapper of success and say "Ta Ta" to the failure.
When I started to learn art I went to a life drawing class every Saturday morning. In my first class the model was a very large retired fellow. There was so much to him I thought it was like drawing a mountain. It was a ten minute pose. I drew a picture a little bit larger than my thumb. The instructor came by, looked at it and said nothing except "Carry on."
I was at the point where the nasty peck of "failure" was saying "You can't do this. Give it up." But I didn't give it up. I signed up for even more classes and kept drawing until I could do it. Eventually I learned something about painting. I won a few awards in exhibits and sold a few things.
I kept that first drawing around for a long time, not just to humble myself when I needed to, but also to show me how far I had come.
Failure happens. But all one needs is the right recipe to turn it into the right sauce.
DB - The Vagabond
_________________
May you see "crowds of daffodils."
******************************
Friday, November 28, 2008
Ocular Offering 11/28/08
There is no more difficult art to acquire than the art of observation.
William Osler
********************
A good actor will tell you that one of the most important activities on the stage is listening. Parallel to that is observing. It is important to pay careful attention to everything that is going on in order to be completely involved in the character and the play. There are exercises and tests in the various arts to improve one's ability to observe.
When I was learning how to draw, my teacher would sometimes work us to distraction with his fiendish observation exercise. He would have the model take a pose and hold it for one minute, then relax, and we had to draw the pose from memory. I finally began to do it by observing, not the details of the arm, but in what direction the arm was going. From shoulder to elbow it is pointing to the edge of the model stand, the forearm is pointing toward the window and if the fingers are spread out, each one has a specific part of the room they are pointing to. It sounds dreadfully complicated but it isn't if you develop a good sense of observation.
Observation comes in two similar forms, or results. One is description and the other is reconstruction. In a classroom of acting students there are exercises for both.
The student looks at a photograph or a painting for one minute. Then the picture is removed and the student has to describe it: the subjects, where they are placed, the dimensions of each compared to the others and the colors employed. I thought I was fairly good at observing things until the first few times I tried this test.
Reconstruction exercises can be even more difficult. The student looks at a table top with a bunch of objects on it, Then the actor turns his back and the objects are rearranged or removed. The actor turns around and has to put the objects back in their original positions. This exercise is also done by having other actors sitting in a row, in various poses. After a minute the student turns his back. The actors then rearrange themselves and change their poses. Then the student has to put them back the way they were. If the actor has his feet crossed it isn't enough to say "cross your feet." If he originally had the left one over the right one and then changed them, that's something the student has to notice.
A good, well trained actor can walk into a restaurant, take a seat and tell you, if you ask him, how many tables are behind him, how many people are sitting at them and where they are.
I was doing a show in Virginia and on the day of the technical rehearsal, which comes the day before dress rehearsal, which comes the day before opening night. the scenery was finally in place. It was a complicated set with doors and stairs. I walked all over that set looking at everything. Some people thought I was crazy and wasting my time. At another theatre in Virginia I was in a show with a complicate set and the director asked us to walk all over it and set aside rehearsal time for us to do it. In both cases I had a firm knowledge of the environment of that play.
What if you were suddenly called upon as an eye witness of an event? How well could you describe it?
DB
William Osler
********************
A good actor will tell you that one of the most important activities on the stage is listening. Parallel to that is observing. It is important to pay careful attention to everything that is going on in order to be completely involved in the character and the play. There are exercises and tests in the various arts to improve one's ability to observe.
When I was learning how to draw, my teacher would sometimes work us to distraction with his fiendish observation exercise. He would have the model take a pose and hold it for one minute, then relax, and we had to draw the pose from memory. I finally began to do it by observing, not the details of the arm, but in what direction the arm was going. From shoulder to elbow it is pointing to the edge of the model stand, the forearm is pointing toward the window and if the fingers are spread out, each one has a specific part of the room they are pointing to. It sounds dreadfully complicated but it isn't if you develop a good sense of observation.
Observation comes in two similar forms, or results. One is description and the other is reconstruction. In a classroom of acting students there are exercises for both.
The student looks at a photograph or a painting for one minute. Then the picture is removed and the student has to describe it: the subjects, where they are placed, the dimensions of each compared to the others and the colors employed. I thought I was fairly good at observing things until the first few times I tried this test.
Reconstruction exercises can be even more difficult. The student looks at a table top with a bunch of objects on it, Then the actor turns his back and the objects are rearranged or removed. The actor turns around and has to put the objects back in their original positions. This exercise is also done by having other actors sitting in a row, in various poses. After a minute the student turns his back. The actors then rearrange themselves and change their poses. Then the student has to put them back the way they were. If the actor has his feet crossed it isn't enough to say "cross your feet." If he originally had the left one over the right one and then changed them, that's something the student has to notice.
A good, well trained actor can walk into a restaurant, take a seat and tell you, if you ask him, how many tables are behind him, how many people are sitting at them and where they are.
I was doing a show in Virginia and on the day of the technical rehearsal, which comes the day before dress rehearsal, which comes the day before opening night. the scenery was finally in place. It was a complicated set with doors and stairs. I walked all over that set looking at everything. Some people thought I was crazy and wasting my time. At another theatre in Virginia I was in a show with a complicate set and the director asked us to walk all over it and set aside rehearsal time for us to do it. In both cases I had a firm knowledge of the environment of that play.
What if you were suddenly called upon as an eye witness of an event? How well could you describe it?
DB
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