I believe that, exclusive of natural inclination, desire, or skill, just about anybody can draw (natural inclination meaning aptitude, skill meaning raw ability, and desire meaning, of course, whether or not it's something you really want to do).
The act of drawing is nothing more or less than putting marks on some media (in the main paper, though with the right tool you can draw on anything) with some other media (usually ink/pen and/or pencil/graphite, but you can 'draw' with watercolor, oils, charcoal, &c, &c).
What I find is people get hung up on is that they want to produce something finished. This is understandable in an ineffable way. Since aspiring artists I've known, in effect, want to be able to draw to the skill level they see themselves doing already, they feel as though it's not worth bothering.
And that's a point, actually. It speaks to the 'desire' aspect I mentioned previously. Being able to draw-to create art-is a noble thing. You don't necessarily have to become a hyper-disciplined ascetic to acquire the skill. Some practice is required though. Ever notice how artsy-types carry around those black-covered sketchbooks? They're not full of finished, gallery-licious pieces. Artists try things, experiment, sketch in odd moments. They practice. It's a craft and they gradually master it.
You see, once you've tried something, whether or not it's successful, you've done it once. Since you've done it once, you can do it again. Even if it's a chain of 'failures' (unfair word if not for the context), something is gained from each attempt. We learn the ins and outs of our tools and media, and find what we like to use and find a little of our artistic voice that way. The more we attempt the less it intimidates.
A girl in watercolor class tried a quick self-portrait today. It wasn't the greatest thing, and she tossed it; point is, she did it. Once you've done something once you have some ownership of it. Hopefully she'll go back to it. She's a dance major though, not an art major, so that may not be up her street.
Like I said, desire. Some people are content to watch others create art; some aren't satisfied unless they are making it. It takes all kinds.
Now, I went down that road to go down this one...
At this point, with my experiences, I think what an artist, no matter what the intent or success level, brings to the process is knowing how to look. I was aware of this in my own explorations but with Life Drawing it's really started to gel.
Consider a face-your face, a photo, whatever. You've decided you'd really like to draw it. How do you go about it? How do you represent things?
There's two ways I've gone about it in the past. One is iconically, the other realistically. These are my terms. You may have others.
In the iconic way, we take a scene and attempt to reproduce it by inserting symbols. We think of everything in terms of line and shape. If you're drawing that face and you want to draw, for the sake of argument, one of the eyes, a beginner might lay in a symmetrical lens-shape, draw a circle in the middle for the iris and pupil, and bingo, there you have your eye. Draw another one for the other eye. A set of lines define the nose. The mouth and lips are simply and similarly drawn.
Now, the face has power and many people start with the face and work outward. They sense something isn't right, because...well, maybe the eyes are too far upward. The chin may or may not be the right shap, but the mouth is too close.
The result may be a drawing that may be a perfectly valid experession of art, but isn't what was intended. What was drawn wasn't what was seen but filled in; many things were taken from a standard stock of icons we all carry around inside our heads.
Let's start over with a clean sheet of imaginary paper (imaginary drawings are so much easier to clean up after) and, before we put a pencil to paper, take a few minutes to simply look at our model. Instead of paying attention to form as expressed by line, look for shapes defined by light and dark. One of my favorite places to get an idea of depth and dimension is the nose. We might note, here, that the line of the nose isn't so much defined by the edge of the nose as the edge of the nose is defined by the shadows cast in the orbit of the eye, that deep area between the eye and the bridge of the nose, and the bottom plane of the nose, where the nostrils are.
I've found, in fact, that placing the shadows and dark spots where they seem to belong and standing back fromt the result, the mind will fill in the details. Frequently, the ridge of the nose is close to the same value (lightness/darkness) as the cheek under the eye beyond it (YMMV wrt different lighting). If I fill in the dark values, the darker shapes that are actually there, my perceptive process will almost 'carve out' the other things that I know are there.
Like I said, the face is a powerful thing. Very magnetic.
Now, here's a little rule of proportion that originated with da Vinci, Duerer, and Michelangelo. It will help you place your facial features in the correct places every time.
Picture a fat oval. Draw a line down the center vertically and across the center horizontally. That horizontal line is where your eyes are. Did you know that they eyes are right across the middle of the head (Shannen Doherty notwithstanding)? Discovering this was one of my first points of departure into learning how to see. The mouth is half the distance between the eyes and the chin. The bottom planes of the nose are 1/3 the way up the head from the chin in the direction of the eyes (well, since it's your drawing, you can put the mouth in the forehead if you want, but keep well away from me, Hieronymous, you disturb me).
Between my self-study and my art study over the past three years, I've so far convinced myself that the trick, the real trick of drawing, beyond knowing your media, is drawing what you see. The real skill of an artist is knowing how to look
Here's a few book suggestions for those who are interested:
- The Joy Of Drawing, by Bill Martin, 1993, Watson-Guptill. A witty, chatty, and brief book that's a basic drawing course. This book reawakened my love of drawing. It teaches shapes, perspectives, all sorts of basic drawing concepts in a friendly, non-intimdiating way. It's pure inspiration and I so love this book I have it with me wherever I go.
- How To Draw What You See, by Rudy de Reyna, 1970 (ppb ed 1996), Watson-Guptill. Starts you off with the basic forms and shows you that many objects can be based on basic forms just about anybody can draw. Like Joy though it takes you in a bit more of an advanced direction; later chapters explore various media.
- Drawing On The Right Side Of The Brain, by Betty Edwards, Tarcher-Putnam. My edition is 1989 but it's periodically revised and doubtless an updated edition is out by now. Don't let the woodgy title and psychological slant of the beginning of the book put you off; it's mad popular and that's because it's good. Not only does it teach drawing it does so by enlightening the reader on how percpetions develop. Eventually you'll feel your thinking-approach change. This book helps everybody; if you want to draw but think you have no skill, it will open that door; if you want to improve your skill but don't feel as though you have a solid grasp, it'll help you comprehend.
As far as I know, all those books are availible through Powell's and/or Amazon.
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