Pentimenti: Exploring Composition.

Michael Whynot. Study of foot. Red chalk.

Michael Whynot. Study of arm. Red chalk.

Michelangelo.

Michelangelo.

Pentimenti (singular pentimento) is the italian word for repentance. These are the traces of exploration that the artist has entertained on the road to a finished composition. They are not so much a mistake as they are a weighing of possible variations on the composition.

Michelangelo, da Vinci and Raphael all used drawing to explore aspects of the figure and of the larger compositions as a whole. This is one factor which I believe set them apart from lessor draftsmen and freed them from a total reliance on the live model. Great works of art are created in the mind of the artist, not copied slavishly from nature. It is the artist's role to pick and choose those aspects which contribute to the beauty of the whole and transcend nature and, in so doing, uplifts the human spirit.

The Evolution of Seeing.

Michael Whynot. Anatomy study. Red chalk.

Michelangelo said: "It is necessary to keep one's compass in one's eyes and not in the hand, for the hands execute, but the eye judges."

Learning to draw, making our marks on paper, shouldn't be such a difficult thing - children do it all the time and we were all children once. And yet, drawing well turns out to be a deceptively difficult skill; few ever truly master it.

Of course, the difficulty isn't so much making the mark, as knowing where, when and why to make the mark or not. And, to answer those questions, one must cultivate the ability to see form in three dimensions.

Many draftsmen conquer height and width, which can be measured mechanically with due practice. But depth is more illusive - perspective, atmosphere, foreshortening all come into play. And this is where mechanical measuring tends to falter, resulting in accurate, flat, lifeless drawings. Training the eye to see all the nuences of form can take a lifetime, but the results are worth it.

In the end, learning to draw, may be more a question of learning to see.

Drawing the Figure: Constructing Versus Copying.

Michael Whynot. Figure studies. Red chalk.

Michelangelo. Study of a Seated Young Man.

Degas.

There are two separate paths on which the draftsman can travel on their journey toward drawing the figure. You can think of them as constructing versus copying; line versus mass; 3-dimensional versus 2-dimensional. But what it comes down to, is that there are two different ways of seeing form.

Michelangelo appeared to take an analytical, constructionist approach to drawing his forms, whereas Degas seemed to utilize the approach of copying the flat, 2-dimensional shapes he saw before him. While either approach can lead to fine drawings, I would argue that Michelangelo's approach creates drawings with more depth and movement or life.

I have chosen to pursue the constructionist approach with my drawings. The differences between the two approaches is often subtle and I continue to explore and trace the many nuances in reasoning that Michelangelo's mind may have followed that led to his particular way of seeing. His image of himself a a sculptor, as opposed to a painter, intrigues me; but Degas was, also, a sculptor and a painter, although I am uncertain which of the two he viewed himself to be. The mindset needed by the sculptor, the spatial vision required to deal with forms in space may be an area worth pursuing. Drawing is a path with many turns.

Imagination: the Artist's Infinite Resource.

Michael Whynot. Figure study in red chalk.

Michael Whynot. Figure study in red chalk.

I have written several times that the ability to draw from imagination is indispensable to the artist, but I would like to emphasize the point once again. The imagination is an infinite resource and once the artist learns to draw from it, vast compositional possibilities open up for us.

Imagine any scenario you can; from battle, religious, historical to fantasy themes. Now picture that scene in your mind's eye: what are the figures doing, where is the light coming from? Then what if you could draw, paint or sculpt that scene that you just imagined? Setting up multiple models and all the required props is possible, but could be a major undertaking of both money and time, depending on the complexity of your vision.

Michelangelo undertook a vast project when he agreed to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and he surely used models to help refine some of the poses, but the concept and the majority of the work was made possible by his wondrous ability to draw the human form from his imagination.

The two drawings, above, were drawn today from my imagination. As I endeavour to perfect this faculty, I can see an incredible range of compositional and narrative roads leading in every direction. I'm not sure how far down those roads my ability will allow me to travel, but it promises to be an interesting journey.

The Illusive Aspect of Movement.

Michael Whynot. Red chalk.

Michelangelo. Study for Hamen.

Here is a drawing done yesterday from imagination. I was trying to capture a sense of movement in the figure. This can be done with a live model, if you are very good at quick gestures, or with the use of supports for your model such as a rope or chair. But this is an area of drawing where the imagination shines. Literally, any pose you can imagine, can be drawn. Still, movement is difficult to depict (as it is when working from a live model). Stiffness always wants to creep in; overworking such a drawing can kill it. Often, any looseness you admired in your initial drawing disappears as you render. Less may be more in this instance.

Michelangelo called his sculpture viva - living. And this aspect can be seen in his drawings and paintings, as well. He strove for this sense of life; he considered this movement as one of the cornerstones of his art.

Upon Closer Examination: Drawing and the Beauty in the Details.

Michael Whynot. Figure study. Red chalk.

Michael. Detail.

Michael Whynot. Head study. Red chalk.

Michael Whynot. Detail.

Michelangelo. Head of a Young Man  C. 1516.

Michelangelo. Detail.

There is something wondrous about drawing: this ability to illuminate the three dimensional world of forms upon a two dimensional medium - light where there is no light, shade where there is no shade, and form where there is no form. Simply amazing.

And, as beautiful as drawings are, we can often be so beguiled by the illusion of three dimensions where there are only two, that we fail to examine, closely, the actual marks themselves that created the illusion. And in so doing, I would argue that we miss the beauty inherent in the details themselves.

The lines of a drawing reveal themselves not merely as the edges of forms, but serve to describe form beautifully as they travel over the surface, creating patterns as they bunch up and spread out, flowing in one direction and then another.

If you truly wish to appreciate a good drawing, and draw better yourself, don't be content with studying the big picture; examine the details and you may come away with a better understanding of the drawing and the wondrous illusion it creates.

Ideal Form: Michelangelo's Debt to the Ancient Greeks.

Michael Whynot. Torso Study after Greek sculpture, 2013. Red chalk.

Torso of Satyr. Ancient Greek.

Michelangelo. Last Judgement.

Torso Belvedere. Ancient Greek.

Michelangelo. Sistine Chapel study for Adam.

Michelangelo. Study for an Ignudo.

Michelangelo. Study for Haman.

The idea of beauty is the fundamental idea of everything. In the world we see only distortions of the fundamental idea, but art, by imagination, may lift itself to the height of this idea. Art is therefore akin to creation.  (Leo Tolstoy)

The artist is not a reporter, but a Great Teacher. It is not his business to depict the world as it is, but as it ought to be.  (H.C. Mencken)




Michelangelo understood the human form - understood its movement, its grace, its beauty. And, insofar as its depiction in drawing, painting and sculpture is concerned, one might almost believe that he had invented it. But he did not.

The Greeks discovered that naturalness of gesture over two thousand years ago; Michelangelo simply rediscovered it.

It seems we, as artists, periodically loose sight of this naturalness of form we call beauty or grace. Or, perhaps, there are simply very few artists who can perceive it; and, fewer still, who are able to utilize it freshly in their own work.

Many artists can copy a great work of art, but how many can successfully explore variations on that original concept? How many can expand upon and improve the concept - making it their own? This was Michelangelo's genius: his ability to understand ideal form and to be able to produce new variations of the two thousand year old concept from imagination alone.

And Michelangelo's exploration of those variations took the form of drawing - for, as brilliant as his sculpture and painting was (and it has rarely been equalled), it was through his drawings that he was able to wander along this path and discover new poses and forms, expanding our understanding of, and appreciation for, the beauty of the human form.

Michelangelo understood that the copying of nature was not the purpose of art. He embraced the idea of an ideal form that the ancient Greeks were seeking. He heard the call of perfection whispered across a two thousand year void and he repeated it aloud for those of us who would choose to listen.



I would like to include a link to the blog: The Best Artists. for a recent post comparing several of Michelangelo's works and the ancient Greek sculptures that inspired them. While I have been aware of Michelangelo's study of ancient Greek sculpture, I had not noticed the close correlation of some of his poses. An interesting post. 

A Milestone Reached.

Michelangelo. Creation of Adam.

Beauty is a value as important as truth and goodness. I think we are loosing beauty and there is a danger that, with it, we will loose the meaning of life.    (Roger Scruton)



This blog reached a milestone today: ten thousand page views during the last twelve months.

When I began posting, last August, I meant to explore my ideas concerning the beauty inherent in natural forms - particularly the human form - and to chronicle my journey toward attaining the abilities necessary to depict that beauty in drawing, painting and sculpture, much as Praxiteles, Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo and Raphael had done before me.

I have come a long way, but have much further, yet, to go. I would like to thank everyone who has been following my posts, these last twelve months. I hope that you will continue to follow my journey; I hope my work proves worthy of your interest.

Drawing Between the Lines: Achieving Dimensionality.

Michael Whynot. Leg study in red chalk, 2013.

I began this post by preparing to upload a recent leg study without much in the way of commentary, but then I took a moment to consider the process of what I had drawn. Achieving a sense of dimensionality in the figure doesn't just happen; and it certainly won't happen by slavishly copying the external contours of the figure.

The eye of the viewer must be coaxed inside the form and away from the external contour. The way to do this is by not placing a hard outline around your forms, which is exactly what most beginning draftsmen struggle obsessively to copy from the model. Line quality and line weight are tied intrinsically to this aspect of good drawing.

Where to emphasize or not emphasize an external contour is an aesthetic decision that really defies rules, so study Michelangelo, Raphael, Da Vinci and Pontormo to understand how it should look when done well.

To persuade the viewer's eye to dwell within the contours, you must give it something to look at. The nearer forms must be modelled upon those forms which are farther away; in this way, depth is achieved.

Creating the appearance of dimensionality of a three dimensional form in space upon a two dimensional surface is not easy, but the sense of wonder it elicits is magical and well-worth our time and study.

 

Drawing Upon Imagination.

Michael Whynot. Study of male reaching. Red chalk, 2013.

To 'draw' implies everything the word stands for: to pull or to drag or or to draw forth, as from the earth, a vein, or well.   (Lance Esplund)



Where are ideas born; from whence does inspiration spring? The imagination is little understood, but would seem to be a distillation of the remembered experiences of our lives. Hence, the infinite variety and scope of individual creativity.

Drawing is the ideal way of exploring the imagination: pulling new ideas to the surface, examining unfamiliar pieces of a puzzle until they fall into place. Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Pontormo; they all understood the link between drawing and the imagination, though its source remained mysterious to them - divine.

The drawing, above, was done this morning from imagination, and, like those masters five hundred years ago, I, too, have no conception of how it arose.

There are so many ways that a drawing can fail, that I am led to contemplate the hand of God in my work - the minor miracle exposed - when I actually succeed.

Recreating Form: The Role of Conception in Drawing.

Michael Whynot. Male figure seen from behind, 2013. Red chalk.

What is art but life upon the larger scale, the higher. When, graduating up in a spiral line of still expanding and ascending gyres, it pushes toward the intense significance of all things, hungry for the infinite.              (Elizabeth Barrett Browning)




I am posting a study done last evening. The gesture is very subtle; weight resting on one leg, a nearly imperceptible twist of the spine. The angle of the wrist seemed curious to me, questioning something. We bring much of ourselves to the work we create. In truth, it is our conception of what we see that sets our best work apart from work where we simply copy what we see.

My goal is to not copy nature, but to recreate nature as I see it; the grace and splendor possible in the human form. This is the where a personal style emerges.

Who could argue that Michelangelo did not recreated everything he drew, painted or sculpted. His forms are idealized, conceived to fulfill a purpose; his purpose. Why is it that his work is so revered? Were his proportions more accurate, his modeling of form more realistic?

No. It was that his conception was more vivid, his imagination more divine. He saw form in a manner which others could not and he had the skill to render that conception in chalk, paint and stone, so that others could see what he saw: wonders.

So I will continue along the path of recreating form, nurturing imagination and conception, searching for the ideal.

The Lure of Anatomy: Part 2.

Michael Whynot. Study of Arms At Rest and in Tension, 2013. Red chalk.

Michelangelo. Study for Haman.

Raphael. Study for the Massacre of the Innocents. 

Rembrandt. Seated Old Man in Armchair.

Today I had a question from one of the newer readers of this blog, asking if I had any tips on drawing muscles.

In a previous post (The Lure of Anatomy), I discussed, at length, when and why I believed that the study of anatomy is most beneficial to a new draftsman.

Muscles are no different than any other form: the better you understand the form, the better you will draw it. And the more frequently you draw it, the better you will understand it. It is a cyclically beneficial method of learning: drawing leads to understanding, understanding leads to better drawing, which leads to better understanding...(See my previous post on The Act of Drawing Well).

Having said that - drawing muscles well, like any other form, is best accomplished with a multi-pronged approach.

Draw from the live model as frequently as possible - there is no substitute to drawing from life. But understand that the amount of information on the live model will be immense and confusing for the new draftsman. And complicating the process will be colour, value, poor lighting, etc.

A good anatomy book will prove indispensable. It will help you to understand the confusing wealth of information on the live model.

Drawing from (i.e. copying- it is not a bad thing) master drawings. This is one of the most beneficial exercises that the new draftsman can practice. Artists throughout history have been doing it. It is how we learn to see what they saw - which elements they emphasized, which elements they downplayed or eliminated, altogether. Learn from Michelangelo, Raphael, Da Vinci and Rembrandt - there are no finer teachers, so utilize them.

In regards to drawing muscles, per se - they are rendered the same as any other form: they are three dimensional volumes with a width, height and depth and should be drawn as such. But remember that muscles change their appearance constantly, so simple recipes for drawing them are mostly useless.

I have included a study of two arms to illustrate the difficultly of drawing muscles. Remember, a muscle at rest is shaped differently than the same muscle in tension. Note in my study, that Biceps Brachii, in the arm at rest, is longer and flatter, while in the arm in tension, it is shorter and higher. This is the nature of muscles and applies to every one of them.

Orientation of the muscle in space will also affect how we draw them: look at your own biceps, from above, and then rotate to view it from the side - a totally different shape and relationship to the surrounding forms.

There is no easy way to learn to draw the human form. Study from life and from reference and, from that point on, it's all repetition, repetition, repetition.

And, a final point: anatomy should never be the embarking point for the draftsman. Gesture is the most important, and often neglected, element in drawing. Note, in the beautiful studies above, that the anatomy is wondrous in all three, but prominent in the Michelangelo and Raphael drawings, while, in Rembrandt's drawing, it is mostly hidden beneath drapery - but gesture is the foundation upon which all the other elements are built.

Anatomy is beautiful, in and of itself, but gesture conveys the life of a drawing: neglect it at your peril.

Study of the Arm and Hand.

Michael Whynot. Study of the Arm and Hand (after Michelangelo's sculpture, Victory), 2013. Red chalk.

I'm posting a study of the arm and hand (after Michelangelo's sculpture, Victory). I completed it this morning (20-30 minutes).

 There is something magical in Michelangelo's figures; some movement or flow of the forms which is missing from many other artist's work. We should explore his work closely if we want to elevate our own work. There is a reason why he is still revered nearly 450 years later. Study his forms closely; there are secrets to be found there.

Robert Liberace

Robert Liberace

Robert Liberace

Robert Liberace

Robert Liberace

Robert Liberace

Since I began this blog, last year, I have been documenting my journey as a figurative artist by posting my own work and thoughts on figurative drawing, sculpture and painting, as well as some of my influences from the classical tradition: Michelanglo, Da Vinci and Raphael.

I have shied away from pointing to many living influences, because, often times, such lists can end up looking like a sort of popularity contest. That being said, I would like to suggest that we, as draftsmen, should take a serious look at the work of Robert Liberace, whose work compares very favourably to the classical influences I mentioned, above.

Mr. Liberace's figures capture the elusive aspect of movement, furia, which (along with grace, grazia, and variety, varieta) was one of the cornerstones of renaissance art. During that period, great importance was placed upon the appearance of physical movement as an expression of the movements of the soul. We are now rediscovering these aesthetic values in figurative art, five centuries later.

I have been following Mr. Liberace's work for several years and he and his wife, Lina, have kindly posted a link to this blog on their web site. And, if you are serious about figurative art, you owe it to yourself to view his web site and closely study this master's work.

Study After Michelangelo.

Michael Whynot. Torso Study, 2013 (after Michelangelo). Red chalk.

Michelangelo. Studies of a male torso and left leg. Black chalk.

Michael Whynot. Foot Study, 2013. Red chalk.

Michael Whynot. Study of hand and forearm, 2013. Red chalk.

Nearly four and a half centuries after his death, Michelangelo continues to mystify us. His drawings are, arguably, the greatest ever created, and draftsmen revere his genius with the rendering of the human form. Attempts to copy one of his drawings (see my previous post on Michelangelo) are inspiring, educational and humbling, all at once.

The torso study above was done in about forty minutes and, in it, I attempt a depiction of the gesture Michelangelo drew and not a faithful rendition of the modelling of the forms, which would have taken much longer. Michelangelo's modelling was intricate and beautiful in its hatching, and gave his forms a tangible sense of volume and dimensionality.

I have also posted two studies of feet and hands from this morning's life drawing session. In conversations I had earlier this week, I understand that feet and hands continue to be a problem area for many draftsmen (see my previous post on hands and feet). So force yourself to draw them from life constantly; use a mirror to draw your own hands and feet if you cannot find someone to model for you. Study the structure of the forms; understand what you are seeing; visualize the forms and then draw them (see my previous post on drawing well).

Raphael Drawings: A Review

Cover: Raphael. Study of a Horseman c. 1511/1512. Silverpoint and white heightening.

Raphael. Study of a man hanging by his arms c. 1505/1506. Pen and brown ink.

Raphael. The Virgin and Child with Saint Elizabeth? and Two Other Saints c. 1511/1513.
Silverpoint heightened with lead white.

Raphael (and workshop), Madonna dell'impannata, c. 1515.

Raphael. The Massacre of the Innocents, c. 1510. Red chalk.

Raphael. Study of a soldier rushing towards the right, behind him two horsemen,
c. 1515/1516. Red chalk over stylus.

Raphael. Three Nude Men in Attitudes of Terror, c. 1510-1514. Black chalk (charcoal?).

Raphael: Drawings is a new book published by Hirmer Publishers focusing on the collection of the Stadel Museum in Frankfurt, and edited by Joachim Jacoby and Martin Sonnabend. The book looks at Raphael's preparatory drawings which he used to compose many of his large-scale works. Some forty-eight drawings are contained in the book with several of Raphael's most familiar works being represented.

I find these preparatory drawings infinitely more instructive than studying finished paintings or murals. The creative process is more easily visible, the thought processes almost tangible. Raphael's line was sensitive and beautiful and the fact that Raphael, Michelangelo and Da Vinci all lived during the same lifetime and in the some region is remarkable. So remarkable, in fact, that being coincidental seems out of the question. The focus placed on the process of drawing that was employed during the renaissance must have played a key role. The creative process itself sprang from their drawings. And their process of apprenticeship and the workshop system perpetuated this knowledge.

If we, as draftsmen, ever hope to attain their level of proficiency again, then the study of their preparatory drawings is the place to embark upon that journey. We are experiencing something of a second renaissance in representational, figurative art in this century, after the dead end of modern art during the twentieth century.

Raphael may have been a genius, as were Michelangelo and Da Vinci, but their processes are contained within their drawings, waiting for us to study them. Who's to say that we can't equal them. I, for one, at least have to try.