The ZehnKatzen Times: art how-to

Showing posts with label art how-to. Show all posts

06 August 2018

A Glance At "Pencilgraphing", a Vintage How-To-Draw Book From the Thirties

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It's evolved that one of the things I'm coming to greatly enjoy as age presents itself to me is the idea of antique and vintage art instuctionals. There have been people who want to make a living teaching the average you'n'me how to make drawing a hobby for at leastas long as there's was a Bill Alexander and even longer.

The art publication in the last missive was printed, as near as I can determine, in the mid 1960s. If that seems and antique, how about one from the Great Depression?

Pencilgraphing is the title of this slim, black hardback book I found at Powell's for a song on Saturday. It was published in 1936, by Pencilgraphing, Inc. of none other than little ol' Wenatchee, Washington, and the tagline is Makes sketching as easy as writing.

The title shows three pencils askew of each other and a chisel-shaped eraser similar to a Pink Pearl.

The title pages is handsomely laid out on the verso with an asymmetrical illustration from the author's own hand, presumably the calibre of the work one might eventually produce with diligent practice of the technique.

Like many artistic techniques, George Elgo's teaches you to reduce things you want to draw into the simple forms. In his specialized lingo, the basic shapes are measuring units. Every method maker wants thier own rubrics, and Elgo was apparently no exception.

The tools are simply enumerated: four erasers, three pencils, and a sheet of 00 sandpaper. The pencils are B, 3B, and 6B. Three of the four erasers are those wedge-shaped cap erasers that we all put on the ends of our pencils in grade school when we wore the standard erasers down, and the fourth is the larger, Pink Pearl-style erasers, which are important for their chisel-shaped ends. The drawing ground was simply specified as typing paper. So, the tools are at least accessible.

After a dead-serious couple of lessons introducing the aspiring Pencilgrapher to the basic thin strokes and how to make shading and modeling (massy) strokes, the catalyst is introduced in the use of the erasers.

The author introducing the proper use of the wedge-shaped cap eraser

The erasers are mostly used in this method as a stump or tortillion is used in graphite and pencil art - for blending graphite and modelling shade. Think of the way Bob Ross uses his palette knife to lay in the shading on the side of mountains and you'll have the basics of the idea. In the case of the large chisel eraser, this is used to 'cut' lines, produce highlights, and for blending out or removing large areas of shade as needed.

The author demonstrates use of the large chisel eraser

The sandpaper comes in when you want to do 'modeling': the 6B is scratched against it to leave graphite which can be picked up from it with the wedge-shaped eraser, which is then used to stroke graphite on the paper in the manner of a paint brush. The sandpaper also cleans off the eraser's surface and keeps the edges of the erasers keen as well as shaping the pencil point.

The combination of specialized, simplified strokes with the intentional use of the eraser as a drawing tool and the consolidation of all activity on the pencil brings everything into one functional concentrated place where you're using the pencil like a combination of pencil and blending tool and this is where the author evidently felt that sketching would be as simple as handwriting.

It has some merit. I can see some aspects of it that can be used in any drawing practice, and the dependence on the eraser as an all-purpose blending tool isn't wholly innovative but was a fresh approach to the aspiring artist coming from a layman's perspective.

23 December 2017

Aspiring Portland Artist Defines Talent With This One Weird Trick

3504/A.
Now, we've all, successful as well as aspiring artists, have wondered what defines talent. It's been a search that has captivated and consumed the lives of artists and those who talk about what they do for ages of humankind.

Well, I found the magic bean, you people. Here it is:

... and to think, all we had to do was look at the top-left corner of page 22 of the Walter T. Foster art book, The Beginner's Guide to Art Materials and Terms Used by Dixi Hall, which was published in 19-something-or-other in Tustin, California.

It really is a delightful book, published in that big-folio style that all the other WTF books were, only it's just a big glossary and compendium of art terms, like brush terms, mediums, grounds, supports ... but sadly, nothing to define other art terms like which drugs to get addicted to to get which results and where to go to rehab.

Nothing's perfect, I guess. But a classic is a classic nonetheless.

27 January 2017

[art] Cartoonist, Caricaturist, Best Kept Open Secret: Dick Gautier

3438.

The actor and entertainer, Dick Gautier, who died last week aged 85, was, as is glibly bandied about, known for a few things. He incarnated, so to say, the robotic CONTROL secret agent and KAOS defector known simply as "Hymie" in Get Smart. He also memorably embodied Robin Hood is the far, far too-short (as in less than one season) Mel Brooks-created TV spoof When Things Were Rotten (a show which needs no introduction or explanation to people I know, which should clue one as to what sorts of friends I prefer to have). He also, through the 70s and 80s, appeared innumerable times as a TV guest star, either in a drama or comedy or as a guest on a talk show or a panelist on a game show. He was kind of everywhere for a while.

What was elided from the obituaries and not commonly known seems to be that he excelled, in his way, at caricature, and had more than a modicum of talent as a cartoonist. He also, from 1985 through the 1990s, produced a number of how-to-art books, starting with The Art of Caricature in 1985. I found two of his several how-to books at Powells last weekend. Here they are.

The Creative Cartoonist is a general approach to cartooning for pleasure and possibly for profession, and Drawing and Cartooning 1,001 Caricatures further expands his record of knowledge of that particular art.

Both books are really quite delightful. Gautier has a casual, self-deprecating style of writing that wins over the reader by presenting the text as though it was being spoken by a very nice acquaintance who loves to draw, loves to talk about it, and likes to show other people. His style is very low-pressure: he wants you to draw but he wants you to draw at the level that'll make you happy. And though his directions are simple, they aren't simplistic. Gautier clearly was someone who loved to draw and loved to think about about drawing when he wasn't.

The book The Creative Cartoonist starts, as many of them do, with the head. He shows you simple ways to construct a face and how many shapes you can make one of …

… a simple yet broad catalogue of standard facial expressions …

… and basic instructions on how to make it realistic and how to make it cartoony. There is nothing complicated here but if you follow his directions and practice and have fun at it, he gets you started on a good foot.

There are people who draw for accuracy and realism, and people who just want to draw, have a little fun, and people who want to draw just to impress their friends. The Creative Cartoonist is a fine book for anyone who wants to start casual.

For those who want to kick it up to a certain level, Drawing and Cartooning 1,001 Caricatures has a lot to offer as well. Reading the text, I got the idea that Gautier had a certain sensitive spot about caricaturing; it is a lampooning of the subject and, as such, has to be handled with a soft touch. It can be a great and funny homage or jump a fine line and border on an insult with a touch of viciousness. Gauthier needn't have worried, though: these caricatures of actors Dennis Franz and Roy Scheider come through with a sense of affection for the subjects:

And, of course, what book of caricature is complete without Jay "Why the Long Face?" Leno?

All drawings were, of course, made by the author, which is why I like that back cover above so much. The portrait of Leno in the upper left, the realistic one, is outstandingly well-done, I thought. The distortions, while expected, bring a certain sense of style to the caricature … they show an artist who is confident in his materials. That's what I expecially love to see.

Gauthier's caricaturing system works by studying the face and deciding what are the most remarkable features (what he calls 'dominant') and the less remarkable features (what he calles 'subdominant') and working within that hierarchy. Accentuate the dominant features and have the subdominant work with them. The result is a caricatured face which, while looking little like the reality, has enough of the reality in it so that there's no mistaking the identity of the personality.

He also introduces us to three levels of caricature. The first, portrait charge, is clearly caricature but is only slightly distorted. These would make a good cartoon character version. The second is the straight-up caricature, and the third would be an impressionistic rendering, where the dominant features command and the subdominant all but fall away.

To show he's a good sport, he did himself: Here is Dick Gautier in portrait charge version:

… And here he is in caricature and in full-on impressionistic mode.

By his reasoning, his face is full of dominant features save the nose ("but I'm working on it", he mocks himself in the text), so in the impressionistic version, the nose utterly disappears.

Dick Gautier wasn't widely known for his art, and that's kind of a shame, because he has much to offer the beginner. His friendly style and accessible instruction are the perfect approach for someone who's afraid of doing their own art. He's no Andrew Loomis, but Loomis is the Holy Grail. Gauthier is a pal who you can hang around with … and who will take you into the art world gently, with no pretensions.

They're books I'd give any beginner.

26 November 2016

[art] Jon Gnagy: He Made The World of TV Safe For Bob Ross

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The tradition of the TV art instructor, as it turns out, goes back about as far as TV itself does.

A name I haven't heard up until recently was Jon Gnagy (which I believe would be prounced NAH-djee, and I say this because I knew a kid in Jr. High named Zoltan Nagy, which is Gnagy without the G, and is pretty much the most kick-ass name I've ever heard), but back in the dawn of the electronic hearth, he was the television art instructor.

I can find out very little about him. He was, as the legend I've heard tell, an art store owner and teacher from New Jersey and a TV drawing lesson taught by him was the first TV program broadcast from the then-new transmission tower on top of the Empire State Building, in 1946 or thereabouts. He had two series, You Are An Artist and Learn to Draw, each telecasting an easy-to-follow, 15-minute art lesson that resulted in a fairly realistic picture. Watching him is kind of like watching a proto-Bob Ross: even-tempered voice, clear articulation, friendly mien while constantly working on and explaining the drawing he was doing and hoped you'd follow along. His lessons are on YouTube. Here's one:

Nice, friendly approach, encouraging, easygoing, beckoning. It's said that Gnagy influenced quite a few people to try, amongst them, Andy Warhol; he grew quite popular during the 50s and 60s, just as Bob Ross does now, selling art supply kits and books with his smiling visage.

It might surprise one to find that Gnagy's book, Learn to Draw, is still available. I found a vintage copy at Powell's City'o'Books last week and got a good look at the bones of his method. Very basic, eminently followable, very accessable. Here's the book itself:

It's a slender book with a lot to give. Gnagy lets us in on the secret of realistic drawing … it's shading. Which makes sense: shading turns flat forms into masses. And the demonstration is succinct as well as informative:

He points out the difference between 'primitive' and 'realistic' drawing here:

And, just inside the front cover, words of wisdom and encouragement. Gnagy, too, was of the opinion that art was for everyone to try, that everyone had a bit of an artist in them, and a satisfying life could be had if you encouraged that artist to come out and play.

The recommended material list was very modest. A dark gray carbon pencil (not graphite), a light gray carbon pencil, black chalk, and paper stumps or tissues for blending. Anyone could take a whack at this.

So, when you load up a video of your favorite TV art instructor, be he Bob Ross or Bill Alexander or whomever you prefer, have a moment of respect for Jon Gnagy. He created the form at the dawn of television; just add personality and your own media. Instant artistic magic.

Here's something else to see: Jon Gnagy's official website, http://www.jongnagyart.com. Contains links to 10 of his video lessons, other online lessons, and access to information on how to get Jon Gnagy producs (which are still produced by the Martin/F. Weber company, stalwart supplier to public TV art instructors for decades, apparently).

And something else, too: A page by a fan that has a lot of interesting Gnagyana including a video at the bottom with another Gnagy drawing lesson (including an intro to his drawing program where we learn he prnounces his name NAY-gee) and an ad that proves he was at one time broadcast by KPTV: http://www.jeffs60s.com/jon-gnagy.php.

06 October 2016

[art] No Models Allowed: Books About Figure Drawing From Your Head

3389.

I have drawn with a model. I, in my modest experience, have drawn in a life-drawing class.

Presumably my interlocutor knows what that is, but if there's any doubt, you know those drawing classes where everyone is arranged in a diverse semicircle around a raised platform where a real live nude model comes out and poses a lot and you have this easel with this big pad of newsprint and then everyone takes out a piece of charcoal or a stick of graphite or a light saber and starts furiously making marks with the whole of your arm over this pad and you're drawing something which looks vaguely like a naked person but could actually be mistaken for a frog, and the light saber pokes through the paper and singes the back of the head of the person in front of you and there's EMS and a trip to the emergency room for someone?

Well, I'm telling a bit of a fib there. Nobody ever called EMS. We were artists, dammit, we were tough. And light sabers are copyrighted anyway. And they don't actually exist. As far as you know.

Anywhoozle, to be serious again, it was quite an experience. You want to draw and if you're unfamiliar being in a room with a totally naked stranger, it's amazing how quick you get over this. Anyone who's ever been in the zone drawing knows this. The ecstasy of making those marks and experiencing the flow really overtake any nervousness you might have. I'm glad I did it.

After you get out of school, though, life-drawing class experiences come few and far between. Classes cost money, yo, and asking strangers on the street for volunteers leads to enquiries from the police. No bueno. It's a goal, then, to learn the human body well enough to be able to draw figures from those that may only pose in your minds eye.

Seriously (again), this is a goal of mine. It's something I nearly achieved in the past and an acme I really want to work toward. Drawing credible figures at the drop of a hat, literally if needs be, seems to me to be serious playing at art on an elevated level. And it's not that drawing with a model is a bad thing either; some of the best classic comic artists did it. But this is a powerful tool, and if you had the chance at a power tool, well, who wouldn't?

Currently I'm studying two books that deliver an artist's knowledge of anatomy in a way that you can adapt it to just about any situation. They really are good books, and I recommend them.

In The Classic Style

The two books take a similar yet divergent approach to the idea of drawing figures directly from imagination. They are Draw From Your Head, by Doug Jamieson, and Freehand Figure Drawing For Illustrators, by David H. Ross. The former comes from what I consider a 'classical' approach, the second, from a more 'modern' point of view.

Draw From Your Head is by Doug Jamieson and was released in 1991. It's a distillation of the system he taught at the New York School of Visual arts. As described, the essential difference between it and other system of anatomy visualization is that it starts with the skeleton, renders it down to a grammar of basic lines and shapes in accordance with the classic 8-head canon, then progressively drapes that simplified skeleton with simplified masses representing muscles, rather than starting with the muscled figure and working back to the basic. The student is encouraged to draw each at each stage and at the end of each stage, a new group is explored and added to the student's growing repertoire.

This sequence, near the back of the book, illustrates very well the progression from simplified skeleton, to dressing it with the muscular masses, to the ending fully-fleshed figure.

Along the way, the student is encouraged to get to know the muscle groups so there is awareness to back the practice of abstract shapes. The figures are most detailed.

In The Modern, Action Style

The second book, Freehand Figure Drawing for Illustrators, is very much geared toward the modern illustrator who wishes to draw from their head and illustrate for the modern comic book and graphic novel.

The author is David H. Ross, whose bio includes credits from Marvel, DC, and Dark Horse, as well as storyboards for movies and consultation for television; this book is for the hot, fashionable constituencies and serves them with depth and erudition.

Ross' central trick is what he calls the glass mannequin, something illustrated on the book cover in good detail, which is his way of viewing the human body as a series of abstracted shapes which, once familiar, can be positioned in any number of ways, just like the wood mannequins adorning my own desk. Tellingly, though, we don't go there straight away, we start in on the one subject every decent art instruction book should contain: perspective. Given that this is a book aimed toward the comic and graphic novel artist, it's a good place to start; you get a skeleton of a world to place your action figures in. After a thumbnail of the freehanding process, we are introduced to the mannequin, then, once we get to know him/her, we go into the anatomy informing the mannequin, the details, the differences between male and female bodies, and how to put them all in motion and action.

We call him Manny.

So, two routes to the draw-from-your-head-mountaintop, two different ways to reach similar goals. The appealing thing about the idea of drawing model-less is that you are ready, at any time, to close your eyes, imagine something, and bring it out.

That's real User power, as Flynn might say. Totally worthwhile, it's a power tool for artists in the best way, and the prize of any artist's tool box.

For a strong modern artist's auto-didacting, I can think of few things better to have on your shelf than these two books.

15 September 2016

[art] I'd Love To Draw: The Lost Andrew Loomis Treasure

3364.

First, a bit of a mea culpa, in the last missive about Loomis I said the next time we talked about him, we'd do a little more delving into the book Fun With A Pencil. We will, but this got under my skin, so we'll be going there first.

Of the number of art instruction books Andrew Loomis produced in his lifetime, there was still one out there that never made it, at least, not until the aegis of Titan Books arrived on the scene. This book, I'd Love To Draw, has been called a lost masterpiece and now it's here in all its rough beauty.

Just because it's unfinished does not mean it's undone, however. Titan and its collaborator, the award-winning illustrator Alex Ross, have taking the unfinished work and knitted it into a coherent and highly informative whole. The approach is different and rather refreshing; the rough drawings left behind by Loomis take on an illuminative quality that the best work-in-progress sorts of illustrations do.

I always love works-in-progress. Finished art is magnificent, and rightly so, but as someone with a technical eye it's a little like dissecting a specimen in biology. WIPs are the bone, sinew, and organic mattter of the work, and they have a rawness and vitality that sometimes teaches without words. I'd Love To Draw is full of this vim and vigor.

The book traces a familiar trajectory from the beginning building blocks to more advanced areas. Part one familiarizes you with basic forms. Part unleashes the learner to start trying different things and branch into cartoon-people drawing. Part three brings the aspiring artist to the level of artist who sketches for fun, and from there, as many artists know, all things are probable, or at least possible.

The drawings, as I mentioned, are rough and ready, but still communicate in the inimitable Loomis style, as does this spread that has to do with that essential artistic concept, perspective:

The spreads are bursting with the enthusiasm of a teacher who knows that if you pick up what they are putting down, you'll open yourself up to a world of wonder and fun, which is typical of the motivated art teachers I've met in my time.

If you work at it, you might do art with the perspicacity of this fellow here:

In the text next to the drawing of Einstein above you can see the insight which, at least partially, led to the gelling of the 'ball and clay' idea that informs the beginning of Fun With A Pencil.

The marginal notes, found through out the illustrations to plan the finished product, bring a definite sense of charm and unmistakable authenticity.

I'd Love To Draw was created some time in the late 1930s, so if it seems familiar, it's probably because it helped define much of the paradigm of the modern art instruction volume, in its simple-to-complex, friendly encouraging style. The idea of creating things out of blocks seems to anticipate works like De Rayna's How To Draw What You See, for instance.

If you go no further than getting this Loomis volume, then you'll be equipping yourself well for any sort of artistic path you want, be it for pleasure or for future profession. This be your gun and camera.

Publisher: Titan Books (October 14, 2014)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1781169209
ISBN-13: 978-1781169209
Retail: $39.95

10 September 2016

[art] Demo: Funny Faces The Andrew Loomis Way

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The Loomis method of art auto-didactitude is so attractively simple I had to give it a shot. Herewith my result.

The Loomis method expects you to be crap at drawing your circles, straight lines, et. al., in other words, it accepts you as it finds you and builds on whatever aptitude … or lack of such … that you have. It starts at the top with the head, and treats the head as a ball that you stick lumps of other clay on to approximate the other shapes that make up the head … jowls, bulby noses, ears, what ever you need. Looking at the photo below you can see where Loomis is going with this; kooky cartoony faces.

The first part of the book, then deals with the head and face. Let's take a look.

For simplicity's sake, I'll try the very first one there on the left. It looks very simple and doable just for the perusal. And, if you look at the examples on the right, it becomes fairly clear that the method adapts to just about any shape you want to employ, even if your sphere looks more like a lima bean. No worries, and no pressure, just have fun with it. But I get ahead of things here. In this view, you can see I've sketched out a circle and divided it down the more-or-less center; a circle in the center will serve as the basis of our nose. Short dashes equidistant above the center circle will locate the face's mouth and eyes.

Now for some more facial features:

Sticking a couple of blobs either side of nose provides us with the basis for the wings over the nostrils, a couple of quick curves on either side of the head base the floppy ears. Two big ovals on either side of the mouth are the foundations of the jowls, and a couple of blobs on the nadir of the circle for the cleft chin.

A few minutes of erasing and darkening in of the lines after the example illustration and we've arrived rather quickly at our destination.

It only took me abut 15 minutes to do this drawing, but if I hadn't stopped to compose and take the shots, it would have only taken about 5. If you're new to drawing, it would probably only take you 15. And that's the genius of this method; take simple shapes that anybody can draw and put them together until you get the foundation you need, then lay in the hard lines. The Loomis method, in the beginning, is particularly suited to cartoony, funny faces (recall the countenance of Professor Blook?) and logically might inspire someone to create their own cartoony characters.

Loomis doesn't stop there, though. The next time we meet here about Andy Loomis, I'll take a look at where he takes us.

09 September 2016

[art] Fun With A Pencil: Andrew Loomis' Foundational Drawing Text

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Though I prefix-tagged the title with the word art, a modest handful of tags would have done as well: cartooning, art, artist, comic art … Andrew Loomis' book for beginners at both artists both casual and aspiring to serious craft has a great, great deal to offer.

As mentioned in the previous article, up until recently, Andrew Loomis' works were much beloved and, since they had been out of print for a very long time, highly sought after. A quick online search reveals that used vintage copies of his classic works from reliable sellers ask $60-$80 a copy. But it doesn't take much looking thorough Fun With A Pencil, that beginner's book, to convince one that this is something that in a fairer world would be of much benefit if it were more widely available.

Well, my friends, your Loomis famine is pretty much over. Starting in 2013, Titan Books has re-released these classic books for a more accessible price, unleashing them upon the world to inspire the next generation of motivated illustrators. The quarto-sized hardcovers are just as one might have bought them in the 1930s-1950s … not one illustration missing or out of place, in the volumes I've seen, each of a quality befitting the publisher and the legacy of the author. They'd look stunning on any shelf, not only for fans of drawing and learning to draw but anyone who adores and remembers the graphic style of books published during those days.

Titan may have been out to publicize the work of a foundational American illustrator, but they worked it out on one level by just making them lovely productions of book design on its own terms. The design look is very much that of of the 2nd quarter of the 20th Century in American graphic design.

Professor Blook, our
author's alter-ego, is
our companion along
the educational journey

But, of course, it's not just the book and its cover that are so pleasing. The inside is a pure revelation, as Loomis, one of the most popular and in-demand commercial artists of his day, takes the auto-didact though his poetically powerful and accessible drawing technique. The accent is on warmth, friendliness and lightheartedness as he enouragingly beckons the reader forward to learn to create art on what eventually becomes the burgeoning artist's own terms. Taking a the simple idea of a circle we move in one deft idea to the ball and how to take this easy-to-draw (even if your circle is a wobbly oval, he swiftly shows us that that's no problem either) figure to create the heads of cartoon figures. After several pages of practice suggestions, all clearly laid out, we get some technical tips and then its on into bodies. From bodies we move into clothing them, and from there we are encouraged to construct a world for them.

The result after all this is a beginning artist with enough skill to either please themselves and friends by drawing for the sheer pleasure or, if they want, take it farther. The book originally came out in 1939, and Loomis and his contemporaries could scarcely have seen the rise of computers and digital art, but as a foundation, the ideas and techniques presented in this book are timeless and are as fresh and necessary today as they were nearly 80 years ago, when the book was introduced. The illustrator of 2016 might have the most amazing electronic tools to use, but without the building blocks of drawing technique, it's all just a powerful scratch pad.

This is the sort of book were you take your time, have fun with it, and make it yours. Like John Hendrix, Andrew Loomis must have been the kind of teacher who wanted everyone to at least try, and noticed that a lot of people wanted to. That encouragement animates the entire text and causes you to understand, in a gut-level way, why drawing, even casual, can be a lifesaver.

In the next article, I'll take a more critical look at the Loomis method. You'll be pleasantly surprised at how essentially easy and potentially powerful it is.

Publisher: Titan Books, http://www.titanbooks.com
ISBN: 9780857687609
Retail: $39.95/$46.00 CDN/GBP 29.99

[writing] Jim Hardison: 7 Tips On How To Get Serious About Writing Silly Stuff

3357.

Anyone who writes comedy will tell you; at times, you have to be dead serious when creating the funny.

At The Writer's Dig blog, hosted at Writer's Digest, blogger Brian Klems steps aside and lets our own Jim Hardison name seven ways writing comedy is straight work. Don't despair too much: you take your comedy seriously when building your work, it'll crackle for everyone.

Read it at http://www.writersdigest.com/online-editor/humor-writing-filled-novel.

08 September 2016

[cartoonists] Andrew Loomis: The Greatest American Artist You Never Heard Of

3355.

We've all heard of practitioners of art called "The (Professional)'s (Professional)". You all know. Everyone has their idea of The Actor's Actor, the Author's Author, the Painter's Painter.

What seems to go with that remit is a degree of elite practice and not more than a little obscurity, sadly. Everyone loves Tom Cruise, for example, but who does he think's better than him? That's a bit more unclear.

Loomis by Loomis
(from the last page
of Fun With A Pencil)

Back in the 1940s and 1950s, one of the most inspirational artists in America was a commercial artist named Andrew Loomis. Chances are, very few people reading this have ever heard of him. But he was major in that 'artist's Artist' way, and inspired a lot of people. The online biographical information on him, given the reputation I've begun to see him have, is almost unforgivably impoverished. And that, to me is a shame.

His thumbnail bio could look something like this: He was born in 1892 and spent his early years as an artist at the Art Students League in NYC and the Art Institute of Chicago under the tutelage and influence of some of the greatest artists of the day. After spending time in the US Army during WWI, he emerged to work in commercial art for a couple of major ad agencies in Chicago contributing to just about every well-known brand name at the time including Kellogg's and Coca-Cola, eventually opening his own studio in Chicago. By 1938, he had found his way to southern California, opening a studio there. It is as an art teacher, though, that he's found his lasting niche in American art history and enduring influence in American artistic culture.

Today he is remembered for authoring a line of beloved how-to illustration self-instruction manuals. Books with names like Fun With a Pencil, Figure Drawing for All It's Worth, and Creative Illustration are cherished memories and sought-after collectors items, since they were largely out of print by the last quarter of the 20th Century. But his influence, though nearly invisible to the modern day artist, informs that school of artistic practice that became comic book illustration; the most famous exponent of that style, Alex Ross, an Eisner and NCS award-winning artist whose work has been described as Norman-Rockwell-meets-George-Perez, even went on to edit I'd Love To Draw, Loomis' 'lost' work. You, the aspiring artist, may have seen his work in old illustrations of those slender, folio-sized Walter Foster how-to books that are also increasingly becoming collectors items (I found a vintage copy of the WF version of Figure Drawing for All It's Worth at Powell's Books recently, originally priced at about $1.00, selling for $45!), or as illustrations in Foster's recompiled lines of recent years, without even knowing it.

Those who've missed his work or remember the books fondly or need to be introduced to his work in such terms have had to go without for a very long time, due to the unavailability of those very works. That drought, happily, has come to an end; between 2010 and 2014, Titan Books have reissued his most famous works, including the aforementioned Fun With a A Pencil, Figure Drawing For All It's Worth, Creative Illustration and even I'd Love To Draw. Over the next two days I plan on publishing reviews of Fun With a Pencil and I'd Love To Draw; as an introduction, they are his texts for those aspriational artists hoping to learn the basics.

I've spent more time than I expected getting to know these works; they are not thick and ponderous but incredibly rich and thorough; imagine stumbling into an orchard where the fruits of all the trees are all so good and easy to reach you can't get started for the embarrassment of choice you have. Both the books are imbued with a warmth and wit and a sense of humor which, though it may approach cornball to the modern wit, is no less memorable for the earnestness and charm it carries.

Andrew Loomis's work is foundational in modern American art. You have the high modern quality of American comic book art, and the inspiration it's provided further artists, as proof of this; his is the giant's shoulders that quite a few modern artists stand upon.

Next up: Loomis' beginner's text, Fun With a Pencil.

07 September 2016

[drawing] Drawing Is Magic: The Guided Sketchbook for The Adventurious Self-Discoverer In You

3354.

There's something of the idea of self-discovery and finding your artistic voice in the guided sketchbooks I've seen, or at least, giving you the tools … or even the courage … to ask some questions of yourself.

These self-questions can be quite grim and serious. You wind up feeling momentous and important and tend to forget that, when done kindly, this sort of self discovery is a fun thing and can be a real adventure. John Hendrix hasn't forgotten this, and his self-guided sketchbook, Drawing Is Magic: Discovering Yourself In A Sketchbook, is bursting with that attitude. Printed in two colors … red and black … the book comes bound in binderboard, giving the look and feel of a true artist's sketchbook.

But … you want to draw. And like a lot of us, you just don't know what. Or where. Or how to approach it. No worries, here. Drawing Is Magic is nothing but games, delightfully drawing graphics, and prompts designed to get you loose and ready to go.

From taking your sketchbook to a movie theater and drawing everything you can during the film to making self-portraits, the preamble to the book warms you up be getting you going on doable drawing adventures in a non-judgmental way. Like the other book I reviewed here last missive, Draw With A Vengeance, it doesn't judge you, but it does insist that you are in charge of enjoying what you make, and by building your own visual grammar (what Hendrix refers to as a visual universe, which is fun coinage, and no doubt) you create an artistic head space in which you can't help but enjoy what you draw because you will first populate that world with things that you love to draw.

Starting with a list of 100 things you'd love to draw, he then moves forward into the main acts of the book which develop that list into an vast range of activities that invite you to play with your pen. You draw scenes inside of cutaway houses, collage dialogue, create chaemerical beasts, design the cover of your autobiography. The whole effect of the book is this lovely gradient which goes from the basics of drawing art to the advanced ideas of knitting things together and telling a story with them.

But in the end? He just wants you to go draw. He lives to draw, and I'd presume he's observed that a lot of people want to draw, and maybe this'll help you get to the happy place were you draw because it's good for you to do. The whimsical illustrations and cheerful mien of the book make it all very accessible.

It's a fun book just to leaf through: Hendrix has posted several page layouts for you to get the idea on his website at http://johnhendrix.com/portfolio/books/DrawingMagic/.

Publisher: STC Craft/Melanie Falick http://www.stcbooks.com, http://www.melaniefalickbooks.com
ISBN: 9781617691379
Retail: $17.95

[art] Draw With A Vengeance: The Guided Sketchbook For Those Who Need To Come To Terms With Their X And Don't Have Bail Money

3353.

Everyone has an 'X'.

You know who they are. An X-lover, and X-boss, an X-friend, an X-spouse. They messed with you and how. It was evil, what they did. And, if this was a fair world, you could have your vengeance and it would be sweet and nobody would turn you in and if they did the courts would see what a virtuous thing you had done and let you off with a sincere apology and perhaps a cash payment for the inconvenience.

You do have a problem though. This isn't a fair world; this is Earth, where such behavior is frowned upon. And you have no bail money in the budget.

What to do, what to do. Well, sweet, sweet revenge comes cheap, actually, and nobody can indict you for it, if you impose a suitable amount of coin upon your friendly neighborhood art-book purveyor and acquire a copy of the guided sketchbook Draw With A Vengeance: Get Even In Ink and Let Karma Handle The Rest.

This is the sketchbook version of all those friends you get comfort from in the wake of a break-up. They accept you for who you are. They don't judge. They take your side. They don't criticize your drawing style; they just help your catharsis.

The first think after you notice that the author's byline, Helen Wrath, would be a pun on the whole idea if you didn't know any better, is that the drawing prompts inside are friendly in that, though they're potent, the drawings themselves are simple. They get you. They want you to feel totally comfortable drawing there. You can make it as simple or complex as you want, and they won't judge:

A simply- yet realistically-drawn bear snarling in attack, with a caption encouraging you to Draw X in a meat bikini.
A t-shirt featuring concentric circles in the chest area has a legend telling you to Draw X wearing this shirt. Tear this page out and pin it to the wall. Get darts. See how many times you can hit the bullseye.
A drawing of the stern of a pirate ship (complete with Jolly Roger) on the recto comes with a verso instruction Draw a plank. Now draw X on the plank. Now erase the plank.

Not to forget the 'destroy this sketchbook' crowd, Wrath has thought of you, too; As suggested in one of the bulleted points above, several pages are designed to be torn out, and each one of these has a venomous punchline on the other side; the page with a blank space captioned Draw X with open arms. Now tear this page out and use it to pick up dog poo has a large X on the back with the phrase YOU'VE FINALLY FOUND YOUR CALLING. Similarly a page encouraging you to Draw X with 100 tiny cuts. Tear this page out. Squeeze fresh lemon juice all over X is backed with the phrase WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS, USE THEM.

If, by now, you don't get the idea, then you don't have an X yet. Lucky! For those who do, though ...

The debate continues as to whether or not venting is actually any good for you; and we all know art therapy is a thing. We all know sometimes you just need catharsis. Well, this book is cheaper than just about any therapy and allows you to do something constructive with your urge to be destructive. As the back of the book says,

The message here is simple: don't do bad things to bad people. Draw bad things - and let karma handle the rest.

You can't but agree with that, I think. For those with a dark sense of humor and an X they need to get out of their head, this book is just what you ordered.

Publisher: Running Press, www.runningpress.com

ISBN: 978-0-7624-5919-3

Retail Price: $13.00 US, $16.50 Canada, GBP 8.99

06 September 2016

[creativity] D.I.Y. Magic: Every Person Their Own Wizard

3352.

It seems a truism that a key to creativity can be upsetting your normal flow, forcing yourself to look at the ordinary in an extraordinary way, and it could sort of indirectly follow from that that there is magic in the creative act, depending on how one looks at it. Certainly creation of something that wasn't there before is a sort of sorcery, when one considers the moving effect of art and anoints the artist the title of magician.

Anthony Alvarado (who we met at Linework 2 years back and who we got this clever little book from) has done a massively clever thing here. He has taken a range of techniques for hacking ones' own creative process and used the paradigm of the magic spell to create a grimoire for the creative mind, filled with adventures to take the creative soul on.

If the book D.I.Y. Magic: A Strange and Whimiscal Guide to Creativity would seem to take a lot on itself, it may be helpful, going in, to know that Alvarado encourages you to define the idea of magic as you see fit. This paragraph, in the Introduction, gives the reader a handle to grab regardless of what they may concieve of the supernatural:

The truth is we have all practiced a form of magic at one time, when we were children seeing images in the passing clouds. Remember lying on your back and watching faces appear in the sky? A puff of cumulus becomes the eye of some creature that melts into an alligator's, nose and then becomes fantastic dogs, castles, angels, cartoons of people and animals that waltz from one form to another. Images can also be seen in the hot coals of a fire, in the grain of wood beams, and on the surface of rippling water. The phenomenon is surely the reason why primitive man saw himself surrounded on all sides by the elemental spirits of all things - the sprites, nymphs, dryads, and sylphs of forest, river, and fire. And wasn't he richer for it? Now, of course we know better! But I propose that these same faculties lay dormant within us.

Alvarado's reliance on the paradigm of the magician casting spells and cantrips, then, is his clever and excellently effective way to remix that point of view and quite a few things you may have heard of, do a bit of alchemy on them, and come up with a new thing that makes nudging your creative self back into wakefulness as much or as little of an adventure as you want it to be, and expects you to define your magic your way, not his or anyone else's.

A good example is the cantrip for manifestation (a cantrip, he explains, is any spell that is quick and easy to do). The tools required are optimism, positivity, and and awareness of the ideas that you project upon reality, and the only thing it requires you to do is look at the world though that lens. If you were of a Buddhist bent, you'd probably say you were practicing mindfulness; a more spiritual sort might see it as the law of attraction; a more practical person would just think of it as paying attention. Using a positive outlook and letting your ideas guide you, for the few minutes that you do this, you'll be looking at the world in terms of what you expect or hope to see, and it doesn't seem unreasonable to assume that you'll see more or less appropriate things as relate to whatever idea is informing you.

The book touches on quite a few concepts that you, me, and everyone else who's chased enhanced creativity have probably run across, but he remixes them into small adventures for the creative heart. A coin flip becomes an adventure in the good kind of chaos when you flip it and follow your intuition about which side came up, making your decision without ever actually looking at the coin. A tarot deck becomes a mind map when you make up your own trumps using whatever symbols you want and decide for yourself what they mean.

There are also some advanced experiments that require a bit of thought and preparation, but the book seems founded on the proposition that if a process doesn't speak to you, you aren't obliged to do it.

It's a delightful book even to leaf through and consider if you don't try anything, just meditate on the clever way he's taken a great deal of material on altering your perceptions to take advantage of the creative chaos within and made of it a whole new thing.

It's at least inspirational, and what creative doesn't need inspiring now and again?

Publisher: Perigee/Penguin
ISBN: 978-0-399-17179-6
US Retail Price:$15.00

Anthony's website is https://anthonyalvarado.net/

09 March 2016

[comics] How To Draw A Horse Right, By Someone Who Should Know.

3296.

In this video, comic deity Donna Barr shows you how to draw a horse the right way, in 15 minutes, assisted by another comic deity, Roberta Gregory ...

The video was done last year at the Clallam Bay Comiccon, and if you didn't know that Donna created the series Stinz, then you should get acquainted with that.

(posted with some abashedness that I waited so long to do so. Personal reasons)

03 October 2014

[design] The ABC Of Lettering, A Type Handbook From the 50s

3155.

I'm not quite sure where I got this gem, but it's going to be a valuable resource.

The book is called The ABC of Lettering, and the author is J.I. Beiegeleisen. It was apparently first published in the 1940s, and this copy that I scored somehow was apparently published around 1958.

It is in excellent condition, considering.

Extensive instruction on how to letter, what strokes to do - script as well as manuscript, and big, big, beautiful specimen displays, as thus:

I think this particular edition was published around 1958, and sold for $8.50.

I got it for $6, which means it held its value better than some cars and most houses.

21 May 2014

[art] The Artist's Guide, By Jackie Battenfield

3091.

The Artist's Guide is a book by Jackie Battenfield that I've just acquired. It's a book subtitled How to make a living doing what you love, and is one of the many that you can find that claim to be able to show you a path from being a tyro artist to one that lives on what one makes.

This seems to be fine art. I'm looking to become an illustrator of some sort.

If anyone has read of this book or has used it and got any sort of result, I'd like to hear what you have to say. Leave a thumbnail review in the comments and later, when I'm done, I'll post again with my own thoughts.

13 January 2014

[art] New Books in the Studio

3005.

Just in, these little gems:

The one on the left, The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield, is actually one we've had for a while. It helped me when I kickstarted my notional graphic design career (which remained notional; perhaps I left some ingredients out, I don't know … I'm going over those issues now) and it's a book full of good, as anyone who has ever read it will tell you.

The one on the right is the new one. I'm just taking that one up now. Turning Pro is designed as, at least visually, not a sequel, but an extension to War, I can tell this by flipping through and reading passages here and there. This is a good thing. Because, for me, getting inspired is one thing. I muff it up magnificently betimes, but getting started isn't really the problem, keeping going is the problem. I lose focus very easily.

I could say more about that but I realized I just came up about as far as I've ever really explored that subject. I knew I've received great gifts, both real and talent-wise, my problem has always been I don't know how to use them and where to take them. Mayhap this is my next stop.

In the meantime, I'm glad that Pressfield is extending the train of thought. For those of us who can catch the ball and run with it, War is a great book and everything it's cracked up to be. For those, such as myself, who can catch the ball but are promptly bewildered by how to run with it and immediately get sidetracked by some bright, shiny thing (in that I behave much as my cats do) this book (noting Pressfield's previous style) may be just the thing. I'll be exploring this in posts to come.

Next one: Urban sketching seems to be evolving as a social activity and distinct thing-to-do. I've picked up and put down this volume many times in bookstores, but I've finally been able to bring it home:

The Art of Urban Sketching, by Gabriel Campanaro, documents the group phenomenon via sketches from several cities in which this easy-to-join club has 'chapters'. Sadly, despite the wonderful Portland skyline in the bottom of the book's cover, my artist-heavy hometown is not one of them. But the stuff that is in there is so wonderful, so expressive and passionate, that I can't help but drink as much of it in as I can.

Nobody ever draws Portland's Outer East, and 122nd Avenue. Maybe that's my place. In the meantime, I'll be consuming it most deliciously.

10 December 2013

[art] What This Brony Can Teach You About Creativity and Community …

2979.

Yes, I said brony.

Don't laugh, sit down and listen to Dr Wolf. He has a view about creativity and acquiring new hobbies that's worth listening to.

He starts out by telling you that it only takes about 20 hours to familiarize yourself with a new hobby to the point that you can start creating. This isn't much a surprise, at least not to any one of us (in which I count myself and many people I know, and I'm fortunate enough to know people who aren't satisfied just knowing what they know and doing only what they do) who's tried.

What really speaks to me is what Dr Wolf seems to have to say about learning the community around any given hobby, studying the connections, and then stepping into that playground to play. His ideas are universal, really; take out 'Brony community' and replace with 'drawing student community' or 'video-making community' and the reasoning is just as sound.

And if you do believe Friendship Is Magic, then there's lotsa cyooot pastel ponies to look at.

H/T Scott Sanford hither.

09 December 2013

[art] How-To Art, in the Days Before North Light Books, et. al.

2976.

While assistance in creating one's self an artist has been been findable, the format has gone through some surprising (at least to YT) evolution. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised, in retrospect, but it just seems amazing to me that the how-to art book hasn't been anything other than a medium-to-large, glossy, fun-to-look-at and exciting-to-hold explosion of color and photography that makes you feel as though you're looking over the artist's shoulder as they demonstrate it to you.

But art how-to books weren't always the satisfying fun that they are now. Found about a week back at Periodicals Paradise that, quite honestly, surprised me in its aspect. Here's what it looks like:

How To Draw and Paint, by Henry Gasser. This paperback … in the popular format so widespread in those days … claimed to be able to impart to the beginner the techniques needed to get started in a variety of media and popular materials. And it's just this little paperback.

The introduction sounds big-chested and confident:

"Do it yourself!" Every day new thousands of American men and women alike, are discoverign the fun, the deep and lasting satisfaction they can derive from making things themselves, with their own hands.

This book is addressed to the aristrocrat of all "do-it-yourselfers" – to you, the beginning artist. Whatever your goal in art – whether you hope to become another Rermbrandt, a top-flight commercial artist, or just a happy amateur – How to Draw and Paint should help smooth the way for you.

Makes some big promises to be sure, and the enthusiastic and chest-thumping "American DIY pride awesome" text not only connects the urge to learn to a great democratic American tradition but also pats the self-trained artist on the back with special strokes – you aristocrat, you! But after leafing through this book, those promises are more than just hand-waving, huffing-and-puffing. Somehow, the artist-author has indeed managed to squeeze into this little 240-page book the basic tips and ideas that wouldn't get you all the way to Rembrandt stage but some first steps on the road, and if you were looking for enough protips to start arting around for your own self, well, this would probably get you most of the way there.

And casein! This little guy will get you started in casein, which I don't see a lot of how-tos on these days. His wheelhouse, it is big.

The obverse, as can be seen above, is an ad for the Grumbacher line of art supplies, a line whose name stands pretty tall as one of the American old-guard, and whose products can still be found in art stores today, though its reputation seems a bit more pedestrian than the Gamblins and such … more of a poor-artist's Winsor and Newton.

What really surprised me was the amount of availability this book had as far as even this edition went. I found it for sale on eBay here, here and here. It's apparently been through several printings; this availability on Amazon UK suggests a larger format and a more modern cover.

If you ever find one of these in a used bookstore, get it. It's a fun read, and actually kind of solid, even in todays world of art how-tos that do everything but draw your drawings for you.

26 November 2013

[art] Three Beginners' Lessons

2958.Dipping once again into the wonderfulness that is this season's Drawing Magazine.

Claire Watson Garcia's "First Marks" article for the month are three exercises every aspiring drawing artist should do. I touch on them now because I've done two of the three. The first one I haven't done, but it's very brilliant. They're all out there, but the article is valuable because she identified them and, in one article, tied them all together and put them in one place. This can be a valuable first-stop right here (and since the column is a continuing feature, yet another reason to check in there. But, enough idolatry).

1. Wire Drawing: This was the one I never did. Take about 15" of wire and creatively bend it into any shape, but keep it abstract … don't make anything recognizable. To me, this says introduce interesting curves, make parts cross, make this part roughly parallel with that part. Having a love of city maps, I have long experience in getting lost in apparently-meaningless patterns. Lay this bent wire on a sheet of paper, then very slowly, draw it with one, careful stroke. Try to copy as many of the little kinks and bends. Take your time. Do it first in pencil, then in roller-ball pen (she strives to tell you to avoid ball-point).

2. Draw Upside-Down: This have have done, and it's very useful. One of the problems one experiences in drawing is something I think of as an iconic-library approach, and why it's important to learn to 'see as an artist does'. An artist views true, or at least as true as possible. When we're not 'arting' around, we see what we see. As an inexperienced artist, we might draw, instead of the true form, shape, and light-and-shade pattern of, say, the human eye, we might reach into the icon-library we all carry with us and dash down an almond-shape with a circle and a big black dot in the middle.

Drawing upside-down begins the process of breaking this strong symbol-reality link we have, which may be of benefit in day-to-day living as a survival skill, but as an point of artistic practice, kill any hope we have of making realistic drawings. Inverting any drawing renders away some of the meaning and breaks those strong links. A chair right-side-up is a chair. A chair upside-down … well, that's more a random-seeming collection of light, shadow and line, and submits to copying.

3. Contour Drawing: This is one of the classic original art lessons, and builds on the previous two. Take any object you would want to draw. Then take yourself, a clean sheet of paper, and a little time. Consider the object, turning its shapes, light, shadows, and all into contour lines. From your starting point, draw the outline shapes. For the beginning, choose an object you enjoy looking at, because you're going to take your time with this, too.

Draw every part as a simple collection of lines and shapes, few details. The author does not say they should be done as one, single continuous line, but the contour drawing I learned directed me to render the object as one continuous line. Our author does say one should take one's time, but does not seem to insist that you not look at your line as you draw it. The point is to just draw the simple line, take your time doing it, and come as close to a likeness as you can, and not to criticize yourself if you can't get it straight on. This is, after all a beginning.

The core idea I can draw out of all this is the development of spacial perception and the awareness of drawing what one sees instead of what one thinks one sees. One of the essential truths of drawing is that you depict reality by viewing it in its essentials and recording them as truly as one can.

I'm nowhere near the artist I want to be, but I know I can get there, because I took the time to learn to see. I don't think anyone can truly aspire to drawing without learning this skill.

But don't be afraid. Since I've done so, the world has never looked more lively. It's a good goal.