The rain was endless, and the late afternoons were gloomy, but I headed out to every art class until......yes, The Snow finally kept me from my appointed rounds. I missed the very last one (so did others, I suspect) -- but we had lots to show for Classes 5, 6, 7.
First, a whirl at gesture drawing -- quick studies that aim to capture essence rather than exactitude. I've worked with these for years, following Nicolaides' counsel to capture the movement of the pose. Our teacher Frances had her own distinctive approach, which was new and valuable to me. In 3-5 minute poses by a terrific male model, we were to emphasize "the HOW" of the movement:-- the places that showed weight and tension.
Shifting speed, we did contour drawings -- another long-time favourite of mine. The objective is to achieve eye/hand coordination, keeping your eye moving very slowly across every millimetre of a selected contour on the model's body and moving your marker at the same pace. The most exacting exercises are "blind contours" -- when your eye concentrates wholly on the model, and you NEVER look at your paper (well, maybe a teeny peek if you're really feeling lost).
I've always loved the way that, despite the inexactitude, blind contours pick up idiosyncrasies that make the drawing very engaging.
We were introduced to the blind contour drawings of an artist I'd never heard of, Elizabeth Layton, who made them her life's work -- starting at the age of 83! With her examples in mind, we were given the homework assignment to do a self-portrait in blind contour, including things of interest or importance to us. In late November, I knew exactly what I would do. I felt compelled to borrow the words of now deceased US Senator Robert Byrd who, it's been said, carried a copy of the US Constitution in his pocket. In the early 2000s, when the US rolled out its first Patriot Act with its sweeping curtailment of civil liberties, Byrd was quoted as saying, "Today I weep for my country." And this was the motivation and title for my self-portrait.
This was decidedly the best work I did in this course. The room fell silent when it came my turn to show my homework and explain its title. One of my quick-witted foreign classmates said, "Ha! The US election!!!" And a shy young Japanese girl crept close to my elbow and asked solemnly, "Is it because of Donald Trump?"
Well. Then we went on to put things in perspective. The first and easiest: One-point perspective.
Then, two-point perspective.
After this warm-up, our homework was to create an imaginary street scene in perspective.
Get it?
My final class before the snowstorm was itself a whirlwind. Remember those 100 seashells I did as my first homework? Frances wanted us to reconnect with the fun and excitement of making different kinds of marks. Our models were two chairs -- a 100-year-old fiddleback chair of her family's and a simple café chair. She continually repositioned the two so they were linked, separate, upside down, sideways, and so on.
With three minutes per pose, I only managed one chair each time. Here's the first, under the heading, "Loosen up and have fun."
This one, a favourite of mine, is done with two hands, each holding a different medium.
And this is about as good as you get -- or as good as I got -- drawing with a piece of charcoal attached to a 4-foot dowel. (the café chair with its patterned seat)
We then had a stretch of time to choose and draw details of the chairs -- and their negative spaces. (this is the back of the fiddleback chair upside-down)
Our homework assignment was to select from our collection of chair details and make an abstract drawing.
Alas, the snow blew in, and my abstraction never received a group critique. Instead, I stayed home in The Yellow House and looked down from my front porch at the work of other mark-makers.
