Dakabin Railway Station Mural

 

 

 

 

These are images of a mural that I designed and painted for Queensland Rail 's  positive pARTnerships program for Dakabin station, in northern Brisbane, with the help of suggestions and actual paintings from the students at Dakabin state high school.  Alma Park zoo is nearby (hence the animals, all of which are either native to the area or kept at the zoo) and Dakabin High has a successful ag science department, hence the cattle.  Dakabin is a semi rural sort of area, with lots of bush, and the name means grass tree in the local aboriginal language.

Selected students from years 8 and 9  went through a design process to individually paint an image, starting with drawings of their chosen subjects, then trying out several designs through pencil and also painted colour thumbnails of the overall composition.  They then painted their image onto a precut aluminium panels (later fixed to the main mural panels).  Ryan Daffurn and Nick Leavey who I am partners with at Atelier Art Classes, assisted with this workshop process which took place over about 8 days.  I think the results were outstanding - we were amazed at how talented some of these twelve and thirteen year old painters were.

The main mural was designed on a cintiq tablet, with an overlay that positioned the ticket machines, benches etc as based on measurements taken on site, as well as arranging the students' pictures.  It was an interesting design challenge to create a landscape around these elements, and so necessarily these background images were painted digitally from imagination, with consideration of the type of landscape seen in the local area.  My main interests, as usual, were the flow of space, and the way the individual objects related to them, as well as the colour harmonies and contrasts.  My aim was to keep the background pictures high key, low contrast and harmonious in colour key, so the the students' paintings could "pop" against them, with their higher contrast and higher chroma colours.

The main background mural was painted on 24 aluminium panels at the Queensland Rail studio at geebung.  Mark Feiler and Ryan Daffurn assisted with the painting process.  The panels painted by the students were then fixed to the mural, frames painted around them, and the mural taken out to site.

I was particularly amazed to notice that the trees in the more greenish yellow of the murals (see first picture above) actually looked like they are emerging through the top of the shelter (in the frontal view of the shelter.)  It was not planned, I promise!

Experiments with gesture and medium

Some recent experiments with layering coloured pencil, by both myself and some of my life class students (o poor lab rats...) , have yielded some interesting conclusions, and resulted in me approaching drawing in ink with a new clarity, and some interesting results.


The coloured pencil method is not my idea, nor is it new - it is borrowed from the sketching method of many traditional animators (and the old masters before them, but with different media - no grand box of faber castells, you see).  Essentially a paler colour is laid down first to capture gesture/ design, followed by darker pencil(s) to clarify form and find the final contour.  It is often done in blue by animators, but I tried it with warmer colours, because I like the richness and fleshiness of traditional sanguine chalk drawing.  It is surprising just how much the act of changing colour helps to "shift gear" as it were, so that the movement of the gesture marks at the beginning can be allowed to be very free because accuracy is not their aim.  At the subsequent stages, the gesture, pale though it is, peeks through, a constant reminder of the central flow of the figure as a whole.  And these subsequent marks are easier to rein into control and greater accuracy, because a physical shift has occurred.  A further layer allows  another chance to make the contour work, to balance these forces.

 

 

 

Cream, sienna, umber coloured pencils

 

It occurred to me that rather than using ink wash on a pen drawing as a final application of tone to model the form, if the wash was done first as a gestural summary of the figure, it would still be possible to draw over the wash with the pen.  That would mean that the wash could, like the pale coloured pencil, be free to emphasise movement, without being held back by accuracy.  Fluidity and movement are elements that a chinese drawing brush seems to be made for - it turns them into a static expression of energy.  With the pigment unevenly distributed through the brush stroke, and the dry brushing effect of the end of the stroke,  there is a quality that can’t quite be controlled, only guided by the energy of the intention.  The pen marks that go down next interact with the wash in unexpected ways (at least for me) - sometimes ruining the image, sometimes creating magic.  It seems that while drawing this way the whole crux of what painting is is being glimpsed - the chance discoveries of brushstroke and design, manifested by the process, that sometimes speak about subject more eloquently than the most fastidious detail.

 

 

 

 








     

 

 

 

I have been using ink with a dip pen and brush for some years now, but this investigation has clarified how this medium can be used to emphasise gesture in a powerful and directed way.  There is a lot that can be done with this idea I think.


It remains an open question to me as to how to organise the process when the purpose is more about light than gesture.  And can the two, light and gesture, be combined in a satisfying way? Is there a balance that can be struck? Or should the sense of light be left to the oils, with gesture and form as the focus of the pen and wash?  I have some ideas, so stay tuned.

Christopher Allen - video - photographic reliance in the Archibald Prize

Christopher Allen, regular arts writer for The Australian newspaper, at the 2010 Archibald Prize for portraiture.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bXkxdG4gwow


Essentially he makes the case for why reliance on photography is damaging to an effort to paint a truly great portrait.


I essentially agree with what Allen says, and he makes some elegant points.  In particular, he talks about the craft of portrait painting or sculpture being done at its highest level when the artist synthesises observations across time to make a concrete representation of something that is transient and hard to pin down in visual representation: a person's character.


I did have a concern, which is a little bit beside his main point: I think some of his comments about perspective were unclear and may betray a lack of understanding of how perspective works in relation to drawing.  He describes perspective as being not exactly the way we see, a kind of artificial model.  I agree that the forced one point perspective of certain early renaissance paintings certainly are far from natural, and human vision and the cues of depth perception are more complex than the mathematics of the eye as a point receptor of light.  But the laws of perspective, particularly within a normal 60 degree cone of vision, are essentially true and must be obeyed if naturalism of appearance is sought.  


Why does this matter?  Well, later he describes the power of the human eye to see into space and apprehend volume in a physical, three dimensional way, whereas the camera will flatten the image by removing certain depth cues.  He is identifying, rightly, that the artist is often better off not having the camera as an intermediary between himself and the subject, in order to have access to the maximum perception of volume and depth.  But if an artist is to be able to translate this feeling of volume in deep space onto a two-dimensional surface, their understanding of perspective must be thorough enough that they can call on it intuitively to guide their placement of marks.   I am convinced that a general understanding of the mathematical model of perspective, as it applies to geometric forms in space, is critical to developing this ability.   

Allen advocates a view of painting as a craft that involves synthesising observations, not mere copying (and I wholeheartedly agree with this sensibility).  This means the artist has to engage in the long term process of studying the visual cues for a variety of qualities - anatomy, light, facial expression etc, so that they can be simplified, exaggerated, and variously manipulated to achieve an effect.  The laws of perspective are essentially a set of cues that relate to depth, and so are critical to any effort that relates to capturing or emphasising the feeling of volumes in depth via contour.


A separate question arose for me while watching Allen’s talk.  Many people argue that the artist should never work from photographs.  They say that the use of photographs, even as a rough guide or tool, will always be deleterious to the development of life and form in a work, but Allen specifically says at the beginning that he is not arguing this puritan position.  But the question that it raises for me is a more general one of process: how should the artist best organise their process, in relation to making and using studies (including photography)?  My tentative conclusion to this question is that it depends on the vision of the artist, and that it is a question that the artist would ideally continue to ask over the course of their career - as their skills develop and their artistic vision evolves.  But more on this in a later post.

Optimum drawing: thoughts and strategies

Optimum drawing:  thoughts and strategies

In my ongoing experience of learning to draw, the most satisfying drawing, both in terms of outcome and enjoying the process, is done when one is mentally alert and calm, and focussed intently on the subject.  This state is not specific to drawing of course, and is often called “flow”.  Wikipedia describes flow as:

“the mental state of operation in which a person in an activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and success in the process of the activity. Proposed by Mihály Csíkszentmihályi, the positive psychology concept has been widely referenced across a variety of fields.[1]


According to Csikszentmihalyi, flow is completely focused motivation. It is a single-minded immersion and represents perhaps the ultimate in harnessing the emotions in the service of performing and learning. In flow, the emotions are not just contained and channeled, but positive, energized, and aligned with the task at hand. To be caught in the ennui of depression or the agitation of anxiety is to be barred from flow. The hallmark of flow is a feeling of spontaneous joy, even rapture, while performing a task[2] although flow is also described (below) as a deep focus on nothing but the activity – not even oneself or one's emotions.


Colloquial terms for this or similar mental states include: to be on the ball, in the moment, present, in the zone, on a roll, wired in, in the groove, on fire, in tune, or centered.”


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flow_(psychology)

Sounds good doesn’t it?  Personally, when I am in this sort of state, I feel as though nothing else matters - this, right now,  is the reason and the meaning of life.  It might sound melodramatic, but if you have experienced it you will know what I mean.  So how can we attain and maintain this state?  I think the central problem is that we need mental energy, a very aroused state, without this mental arousal drifting off the focus, or becoming too emotional to focus.

My own experience is that I can’t will myself to be mentally energetic past a certain point - I have to be motivated by something external.  What I can will is to mentally demand an answer to the question: what is interesting/ compelling/ dramatic/ delightful in the subject?  The excitement that results is externally oriented, not internally oriented - it is about something in reality, not about myself - providing an external aim to strive for.  

Of course there is more to it than asking the question - like (I imagine) most skills, the process of drawing involves the development of a hierarchical process of organisation.  By this I mean that there is lots of stuff going on - things like accuracy of shape, form, anatomical patterns and landmarks, gesture, rhythm, character, design, mark making.  I think all of these elements are at least dimly sensed by the viewer, even if they can’t articulate it, and this is the source of their response.  The challenge is to get them all in balance, with respect to a certain aesthetic vision.  This takes practice - the drilling of skills to make them more automatic, so that more can be juggled at once.  The real magic starts to happen when the mind is able to come up with a mark that integrates multiple elements, and we have the experience of saying “wow I didn’t think I had that one in me!”.  

The amazement of doing this, or seeing a drawing emerge with a quality that one is excited by can make us forget to focus on the original vision - we get so caught up in emotion, in the “ecstasy of creation” that we forget to be analytical, or we get too interested in the drawing itself, taking focus off the content of the drawing, and begin to drain the life out of the drawing we noticed proceeding so nicely.  In other words, we drift out of the outward looking sweet spot of flow and into the self aware states of anxiety or undirected emotion.  The cry of “look ma no hands!” right before you ride into the pool.  

I think this is one of the principle reasons that ongoing effort in a representational discipline like life drawing is useful even to the purely abstract painter - it is easier to attain a state of flow when working from a subject that contains plenty to be interested in, precisely because it encourages one to be excited about something external to the self.  It is harder to avoid the distraction of the self when working entirely from sources within your own mind.  The cry of “look how artistic I am ma!” right before you compromise (and metaphorically ride into the pool.  Or perhaps literally if you happen to use a tricycle in your painting process).  This is not to say that flow cannot be attained with abstract painting, with outward focus directed onto the painting - but my conclusion is that it is probably harder, particularly for the artist of less experience.

Expressive drawing does involve the development of intuition for form and for the human figure, but this is the calm intuition of a practised skill, whereby one is able to see through the complexity to broad truths of the subject.  

Drawing is more than a tool for painting or sculpture: it is a way of responding to visual interest, drama and beauty in a direct visual way.  The discipline of drawing is the use of self control to stop oneself copying details, and begin the habit of making accurate statements about the subject.  These statements will generally work from broad relationships to narrower ones, or from the central forms towards the extremities.  I am amazed at the fact that this process usually has the details fall into place with far more ease than if one was solely concerned with accuracy.  

Like a foreign language, drawing is a logical, learnable skill, but it involves the ongoing application of effort to master component skills, facts and concepts.  These elements are ordered by having a vision for how they should work together.  That is, the intention to have visual authenticity, or animation and gesture, or to record whatever qualities you are personally most interested in.

Advice (for myself and others):

Accept that this takes time, inspire yourself with examples of artwork (including your own) that have qualities you would like to emulate, and enjoy the meditative aspect of honest study, rather than being hard on yourself.  What we can appreciate is always a step ahead of what we are capable of doing, so rather than expecting perfection, remember that every time you stop yourself switching off and copying  a detail, and instead look for the true relationships of forms, the shapes of masses, or seek geometric construction to help you organise a foreshortened limb, you are making real progress.  The more often you make these acts of will, the faster will be your progress.  

Given that drawing is something we need to do rather than merely know, what are you interested in visually?  Being taught drawing can save you time and frustration, but it is important to also apply what you are learning in your own way, without feeling that you are being watched.  There are plenty of untutored life sessions around  if you want to work on drawing the human body.  But you can also draw hands, feet, self portraits, loved ones (including pets).  Even shoes and hats can be good subjects that inform about the human body, and can be interesting sculptural forms in their own right.  Use drawing whenever you can to note an idea, or describe an idea to someone.  Test your study of anatomical structure by drawing from imagination, but do so with an awareness of the geometric forms that the organic is composed out of.   Look for the gesture of tree branches, or the way pot plant leaves turn in space, or the design of a cloud.  Be on the lookout for things that interest you visually, and use drawing to work out why they are interesting, rather than worrying so much about the creation of a pretty picture.   I think that this way of using drawing is the origin of the adage that “you never really see something until you draw it”. In any case, it is certainly the origin of conviction in drawing: in the words of Keats: "Beauty is truth, truth beauty".

If all this talk about focussing attention outward rather than inward is making you wonder “what about me? I want to express myself!”, I have some good and bad news.  The good news is that the expression of an individual personality, of your particular relationship to the world is eminently possible - artists have been doing it for a very long time.  The bad news, if you want to call it that, is that doing this at a high level isn’t instant or innate.  Artists are not born, but sculpted by experience and effort in their medium.  It takes time focussing outwards before anything truly authentic and individual emerges about about oneself.  I think the artist is, at their best, like a scientist or explorer looking outwards with humility and wonder - and in doing so, is exploring the limits and limitlessness of their own soul.

Life Drawings

I recently bought an A3 scanner and so am planning to scan and upload some of the life drawings I do each week.  I normally draw on A2 size paper, so most drawings here will be stitched together from A3 scans of half the page.

Hope you enjoy and feel free to leave a comment.