Black, White and Dry - Drawings in Pencil and Charcoal, 10+1

Someone told me that January 1, 2001 was the actual beginning of the new millennium. I will take every chance I can get, to begin again. I began the New Year with a pencil. The group of eleven drawings I did in January was started for the following reasons, as nearly as I can remember:

First, it was too cold in the basement (read workshop) to paint. I don't use the word 'studio' because it rings false to me. It is an 'art' word, and I came to the field of fine arts in my 40's, after many years of being a woodworker and furniture finisher. 'Art' words seem extraordinarily contrived, especially when applied to me. Hence, I prefer to do my work in the 'basement' or my 'workshop,' except of course, in very frigid weather, when it is too cold in the basement to want to stay there for any extended period of time.

Second, I had purchased 10 large sheets of what appeared to be very nice drawing paper in September, and wanted to use it up. I had visited a local art supply store, that sent me a brochure announcing a 'Back to School' sale, and while the 'Sale' turned out to be just another promotional lie, I happened to discover this incredibly nice paper at a price so much below value that I could not believe it. When I went to pay for the paper, the cashier could not believe it, either, and attempted to charge me what must have been its actual price, about three times its marked price. After I had led her to the location where I found the paper, and showed her the very clearly marked price, the store agreed to sell me the paper at that price. It was rolled up into a tube, and I took it home, and sat it in a corner, and promptly forgot about it. I noticed the paper in late autumn, and made a decision to use it soon, as in my basement, white paper does not stay white and pristine for very long. Also, paper that is rolled up for too long eventually wants to retain that shape, and cannot easily be made to lie flat. Since drawing does not smell up my apartment, and is not extraordinarily dirty, January provided me with a perfect excuse to sit down at the dining table and do some intensive drawing.

Third, drawings sell. I have a show coming up the first week in February, and while I will certainly show some of my paintings, I will also bring along a card table, and a portfolio full of drawings, which have a reasonable chance of selling because they are less expensive than paintings, and images that are black and white, in addition to the usual esthetic concerns, do not clash with many design schemes, making them a safe choice for people who are buying simply to decorate their walls. I enjoy making at least enough in sales at these local shows to justify the expense of participation, and having a decent selection of drawings handy is very helpful in this respect.

Fourth, I need the practice. I spend most of my time painting, and the drawing I do in the process of painting is more properly called 'sketching.' Doing finished drawings is much more akin to painting, than it is to sketching. I also used this month to search the Web for drawing sites, as well, and between keeping my hands busy at the board, and my eyes busy at the computer, I was able to gain a lot of knowledge and practical experience, all of which will wind up finding its way into my painting, and other aspects of my work, as well.

Fifth, I have never been in love with colour simply for its own sake. Whatever it is, that I am trying to express through my work, it clearly has more to do with composition and value, than it does with the use of colour. I view colour as I do spice, something to be used with respect for its power, but also with knowledge that, like a spice, it must be applied 'to' something, in order to function. I do not care any more about producing a painting where colour is applied without any underlying framework, than I would care to make a meal that was composed completely of spices, or write an essay that composed entirely of adjectives. When I produce finished drawings, I am in effect laying out the 'meal' in 'meat and potatoes', or writing the outline for the essay, dealing in the substance of my work, without most of the frills. This allows me to see what I am doing, unencumbered by the major variable that colour introduces into whatever is being addressed. Those drawings that survive the show without being sold, may very well wind up being the bases for future paintings, as was done here.

Since my basic plan was simply to pick up some practice in doing finished drawings, I just flipped through my file of old photos to find some subjects; people, places and my first ever drawings of horses. I avoided doing any still life drawings, as I had done enough of that in the previous months. I began by using vine charcoal with a very little bit of pencil for layout purposes, and by the end of the series, wound up working exclusively in pencil, just an average fine point (0.7mm) lead mechanical for hard lines, and larger clutch type pencil with a much thicker HB lead, for soft gradations.

The Paintings - click images for full views

As far as technique is concerned, I worked on one new idea, which was shading of the background with soft diagonal pencil strokes. I did not like the rough appearance of the background in 'Smirk and Sneer,' my first drawing, which was done with charcoal dust, applied with my fingers. The major thrust in that drawing was to work on facial expressions, and a certain overall 'roughness' developed as the drawing progressed, in the modeling of the faces, and the woman's hair. In the second drawing, "Internal Dialogue,' I introduced the diagonal shading technique, in order to allow the white paper to define the bright edge of the face, against the slightly darker, shaded background. The idea for the subject occurred to me while I was trying to decide which of the two individual photos I liked better. At the same time, I was faced with the problem of either single face not being sufficient to use the entire 18 by 24" expanse of paper. The solution, using two photos of a single person, engaged in dialogue, solved the compositional puzzle of using the paper effectively, instead of just centering a single image and chopping the paper. It also created a challenge, since the two photos did not have the same light source orientation, so I had do figure out which modifications would best suit both the physics of light, and the feeling of the subject; two facets of an individual, having a friendly internal discussion, one holding a dominant role to the other, in a somewhat 'cozy' atmosphere, where the light seems to emanate from stage center, between the two figures, as if the 'light' is the conversation itself. This idea also leaves a lot of room for future development, since our internal dialogues are limited neither to two personae, nor to 'friendly' discussions.

I was so fascinated with my 'new' (for me) discovery of diagonal pencil shading, that I continued using the technique in both the horse portraits, with the horses themselves, as with the people before them, continuing to be done primarily in vine charcoal. In these two drawings, I also worked on some other compositional aspects; I left areas of both drawings incomplete, or 'unfinished,' and in the second drawing, I also continued work on the double view, with two drawings of the same horse in a single composition. Unlike the dual compositions used in 'Smirk and Sneer' and 'Internal Dialogue,' however, the two views in 'Horse - Two Views' are completely non-interactive, making for quite a different feeling, overall.

In the next three drawings, I switched to rural landscapes, still predominantly in charcoal. The first, 'Bare Trees,' continues the incomplete, or 'unfinished' approach, leaving the right side of the paper empty, and the foreground, the beginning of a snowy field, empty of everything except a few smudges. The image could simply be cropped down the right, but it would then be an entirely different picture. 'Rows and Silos' is almost not a drawing at all, just a few quick marks with the broad side of the charcoal, to define the earth, then a few marks with the tip of the charcoal to define the structures, and rows, and finally, a little work with an eraser, to clarify the rows, and indicate sunlight on the ground and left sides of the silos. I think I succeeded in implying a considerable sense of depth, from fore to background, and width, from right to left, with very little effort, or technique. This 'finished drawing' only took a few minutes to complete. I suspect that if I had stopped to think about it, I would have made a mess of it.

'Tracks' began as a very 'messy' composition, because it contained a great deal of weeds, fields, and 'clutter' that had to be dealt with. I began the drawing, but hit an impasse, not sure of what I wanted. After two days away from the drawing, catching up on my household chores, I returned to it and finished it in a matter of a few hours. It became a perspective study, with the diminishing railroad tracks, fence and electrical poles, defining the space. The 'clutter' was done very quickly and carelessly, in what I like to describe as 'going Pollack,' sort of a maniacal, almost uncontrolled scribbling. Once the drawing was 'completed,' and ready to fix, it still had a flaw of sorts, but one that I had not noted; the detail did not diminish appropriately as space receded into the distance. I use a mouth atomiser to fix my drawings; it is much cheaper than an aerosol can. In this case, I became a little too enthusiastic in my application, and the drawing, which was standing upright as I worked, began to get a little 'runny' with fixative. I noticed it, and stopped, and began to work the runs back into the drawing, which much reduced the definition in the area of the drawing where it occurred. Since I had begun fixing at the top of the drawing, the 'accident' occurred in the background of the drawing, so that I wound up with a better looking work that would have been the case if I had not screwed up.

From this point forward, I set the charcoal aside almost completely, and used only my two mechanical pencils, one with very fine lead, and the other with a thicker, and slightly softer lead. I focused on combining a central theme of realistic, detailed work, in a peripherally unfinished and incomplete composition, each one to a slightly different effect. 'Food' presents two buildings, laid quite properly into a compositional frame that exists only in line, with a slight shading in those parts that define 'street,' to indicate that it is different in nature from 'sky,' and that blank area at stage left, that is neither 'sky' nor 'street,' nor anything else, but is still intrinsic to the composition.

In 'House Red,' the house is precisely rendered in three dimensions, and the 'ground' indicated only in the areas where shadows fall, and along the boundaries of the walk, leading away from the front porch. At stage right, the baseline of the 'barn,' with its construction details done in the perpendicular (in contrast to the house's horizontal clapboards), becomes the horizon line as it continues away from the strangely two dimensional structure, and serves as the only clear separation between 'sky' and 'ground' in the drawing.

'Isolation House' lacks a horizon line, and the house itself loses definition as it proceeds toward stage left, until it disappears, along with everything else, into blank paper. To stage right, the neighboring buildings exist only as support for the houses cast shadows, and fade to nothing just beyond where that function is no longer required. The front porch lacks steps, giving the drawing its name, and the foreground and foliage are finished in vine charcoal, giving a dark face to an otherwise light drawing.

'Water Faucet,' the final drawing, is done on a half-sheet of watercolour paper, that was left over from doing 'Hill Houses.' Named for the cryptic sign on wall of the outbuilding instead of the graveyard, the drawing continues the 'unfinished' compositional strategy, both in the background, which ends abruptly at a totally flat horizon at stage left, and raw paper at stage front, where the tall grass disappears. There is also the unresolved question as to there the tree that casts its shadow upon the building is. The three gravestones complete the picture, The first two, partially exposed to the sunlight, leaning, almost crumbling in the face of life, while the obelisk, safe in the depth of shadow, rises supreme over its domain.

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