Saturday, 10 November 2012

Bernini: Sculpting in Clay



Today I will be reviewing Bernini: Sculpting in Clay, a book recently published by The Metropolitan Museum of Art and distributed by Yale University Press.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini was one of the greatest sculptors in the history of art and, arguably, second only to Michelangelo Buonarroti. He was the father of the baroque style which emphasized motion and drama in sculpture, painting and architecture.

With essays by C.D. Dickerson III, Anthony Sigel, and Ian Wardropper this volume explores Bernini's clay "sketches" or bozzetti as they were known. Richly illustrated, Bernini delves into the working methods of the great sculptor, giving us a glimpse into how many of his iconic marbles evolved from conception through sketches on paper, clay sketches, and life-size clays.


Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Study for Daniel, ca 1655. Red chalk.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Study for Daniel, ca 1655. Red chalk.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Daniel in the Lion's Den, ca 1655. Terracotta.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Daniel in the Lion's Den, ca. 1655-57. Marble, over life-size.


The illustrations are wonderful, with many detailed photos of the clay bozzetti which allow you to inspect the tool-marks left in the clay and even Bernini's fingerprints. Several x-radiograph photos let you see inside the clays to understand how the structures were formed.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Model for the Fountain of the Moor, ca 1653. Terracotta.
Detail.
Detail.

Detail.
X-radiograph. Note hollowed head and torso, solid shell and base.


Fountain of the Moor, 1653-55. Marble, over life-size. Piazza Navona, Rome.


There is something magical in Bernini's best sculpture, an expressive motion which he was able to translate from drawing, to clay bozzetta, to finished marble; no easy feat, considering how elusive the gesture is at any one of these stages.


Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Saint Teresa in Ecstasy, ca. 1647. Terracotta.

Gian Lorenzo Bernini, Saint Teresa in Ecstasy, 1647-52. Marble, life-size.

Anyone interested in Bernini, renaissance sculpture, or the working methods of sculptors will enjoy this large, high quality book. A fascinating read.


Sunday, 4 November 2012

Life Drawing Session

Michael Whynot c. 2012. Figure Study

Michael Whynot c. 2012. Figure Study
Here are two figure studies from this morning's life drawing session. They were fifteen and twenty minutes in length. The model's poses were very expressive; subtle twists and turns of the major masses made for an interesting couple of hours. Never discount the value of a good model to the quality of your work.

Friday, 5 October 2012

The Rhythm of Life.

Michael Whynot c. 2012. Gesture for arm study.
Michael Whynot. Arm Study c. 2012. Collection of the artist.
Michael Whynot c. 2012. Gesture for figure study.

Michael Whynot. Figure Study c. 2012. Collection of the artist.



How does one begin a drawing, considering the varied, intertwined elements that go into the making of a good one?

The answer to that question has to be gesture. Which brings up the next, obvious, question: And what, exactly, is gesture?

I might describe gesture as the thrust of movement, the rhythm of life which flows through the figure. It is not, necessarily, a contour seen on the figure, although it may be. If you study the individual masses that comprise any form and then search for a line or thrust that unites them, you have probably discovered the gesture. You will often find that this line or thrust resolves itself into a C or S curve; a line of beauty.

This gesture is elusive; it can disappear in the blink if an eye or the clumsy touch of the pencil. And once it disappears, all the careful measuring, modelling and shading in the world will never resurrect it. So balance becomes the battleground upon which draftsmen continually struggle. How to advance a drawing, utilizing proportion, anatomy, perspective and tone without killing the fragile gesture. And that is a question which I am unable to answer. How much is too much? How do you know when it is time to stop? It becomes, painfully, obvious once the gesture it dead, once you have gone too far, but sensing that moment when all the elements resonate in harmony...?

Therein lies the mystery of art.

I have included two of my gestures and two drawings derived from them. Please excuse the lightness of the gestures as this is a quality I find inherent in them: nothing too distinct or exact. The drawings resolve themselves as I begin to layer on more elements.

If you have ever attended a life drawing session, then you know that they usually begin with short timeframe gesture poses. During these poses you will see everyone drawing furiously, trying to get everything in before the model changes their pose. But once the longer timeframe poses commence, you will notice people carefully measuring and placing individual elements of the figure without any concern for the whole. Gesture is forgotten. It has become an exercise, in and of itself, instead of a foundation upon which to build.

All lines are not created equal; the rhythm of life may be seen in a line, drawn with feeling, by a sensitive hand; whereas a lesser hand draws merely a line.

Sunday, 23 September 2012

Current Drawings

Michael Whynot. Arm Study, 2012. Collection of the artist.

Michael Whynot. Arm Study, 2012. Collection of the artist.

Michael Whynot. Arm Study, 2012. Collection of the artist.

Michael Whynot. Arm Study, 2012. Collection of the artist.

Michael Whynot. Arm Study, 2012. Collection of the artist.

Michael Whynot. Arm Study, 2012. Collection of the artist.


I've been busy for the past couple of weeks. Just thought I would post a few arm studies done from both life and the imagination, as always, attempting to emphasize the three-dimensional volumes, as depth is what I see lacking in many beginner's draftsmanship.

Monday, 3 September 2012

Nature Versus Imagination

Study for the Battle of Cascina
Michelangelo. Study for the Battle of Cascina, c. 1504. Black chalk over stylus, 23.5x35.6cm. Galleria deli Uffizi, Florence.

Michelangelo. A Battle Scene, c. 1504. Red and brown ink, 17.9x25.1cm. The Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.
Nude, Study for the Battle of Cascina
Michelangelo. Nude, Study for the Battle of Cascina. Red chalk. Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence.

A Male Nude.
Michelangelo. A Male Nude, c. 1504-5. Black chalk, heightened with lead white, 40.4x22.5cm. The Teyler Museum, Haarlem.

Male nude seen from the back with a flag staff.
Michelangelo. Male Nude seen from the back with a flag staff, c. 1504. Black chalk, heightened with white. Albertina, Vienna.
Michelangelo. A male Nude.
Michelangelo. A Male Nude, c.1504-5. Black chalk, heightened with lead white, 40.4x25.8cm. The Teyler Museum, Haarlem.


Michelangelo. A seated male nude twisting around.
Michelangelo. A seated male nude twisting around, c. 1504-5. Pen and brown ink, brown and grey wash, heightened with lead white (partly discoloured) over lead stylus, 42.1x28.7cm. The British Museum, London. 


Michael Whynot. A seated female nude looking skyward.
Michael Whynot. A seated female nude looking skyward, c. 2012. Red chalk. Collection of the artist.

Is it better to draw from nature or from the imagination? This question, or some form of it, has hounded artists for centuries: realism or constructionism, what you see or what you know.

I believe that when the question is asked in this manner, there can never be a definitive answer. I believe that both approaches are valid and, indeed, each must rely upon the other if our drawings are to be anything more than simply realistic or, alternatively, lacking a solid grounding in nature.

By way of example, I have included several of Michelangelo's studies for the Battle of Cascina, a fresco he was commissioned to paint in the Hall of the Great Council in Florence in 1504, along side Leonardo da Vinci's Battle of Anghiari. Unfortunately, neither of these frescos was ever completed, although full size cartoons were created.

It is obvious that Michelangelo was drawing purely from his imagination in the top two studies. He was exploring concepts for the composition, testing forms and rhythms, and making decisions concerning major points of interest and where the eye will flow.

In the following five figure studies he was likely working from a combination of the two approaches. His initial conceptions for the figures would have sprung from his imagination but, at some point in the process, he likely used a live model to work out areas where he was unclear as to certain anatomical details. Notice, however, the extreme twist in the 7th(seated) figure. Michelangelo has pushed this pose into a nearly impossible position. But so great was his understanding of form, that he was able to make the position wholly plausible. He likely believed, as do I, that an artist must be accurate in their draftsmanship, but never at the expense of clarity.

Michelangelo's full size cartoon for The Battle of Cascina was remarkable, according to all accounts, and artists from all around Florence flocked to see it. It was said to be life changing for many. Unfortunately, the cartoon was destroyed a decade after its completion (c. 1505) by those same artists.

The final drawing included is my own study of a woman looking skyward. It was drawn totally from the imagination. If I were to take it further, toward a finished work, I would have a model take the pose so that I could work out some unclear details.

If a draftsman hopes to advance their abilities, they must draw from life every day, but also from the imagination; the problem with embracing nature too tightly is that it is often difficult to let go. Nature should never confine the imagination, but free it.

If you understand the human form -truly understand it - in all its wondrous complexity and intricacy, can see it twisting in space or flipped upon its head, then whether you are drawing from life or from your own imagination should yield similar results. The key difference being that when you acquire the ability to draw from the imagination you can shape nature to convey your conceptions.

Michelangelo said that a man doesn't paint with his hands but with his brain. I would submit that neither does a man see with his eyes. These are both functions of the mind - that elusive spring where inspiration bubbles up and we have but to cup it in our hands and drink. Art, like life, begins at conception.

Tuesday, 28 August 2012

Watteau: The Drawings Review

On the Cover
Detail of cat. 73
Detail of Three Bust-length Studies of Women (1718-19) 
Seated Male Figure Holding a Staff.
Red chalk on cream paper.

Semi-nude Man, Seen in Three-quarter View and Turned to the Left, Lifting a Glass.
Red black and white chalks on beige paper.


Seated Young Woman Holding a Basket in Her Left Hand.
Red, black and white chalks on beige paper.
Detail of Head of a Boy and Two Half-length Studies of a Flute-player.
Red, black and white chalks on buff-coloured paper.

Jean-Antoine Watteau (1684-1721) was one of France's greatest draftsmen. He had the ability to capture a natural gesture and used a light, subtle line. He was very adept with the trios crayons technique which uses red, black and white chalks to portray the value ranges. He has always been considered a better draftsmen than a painter (a belief he, himself, shared).

Watteau The Drawings was published by The Royal Academy of Arts, London in 2011. The book itself is of good quality and the reproductions well done. There is a good selection of subject matter and it will make a good addition to my collection.

On the matter of Watteau, himself, and where he ranks in my personal hierarchy of histories draftsmen? Probably only mid-range in my top 20. He certainly doesn't break into the top 5. Of course, he died at the age of 37 (the same age at which Raphael passed away). It would be very interesting to see how his drawing might have matured if he had only lived longer.



Monday, 27 August 2012

On Michelangelo's Shoulders

Michelangelo
Study of a Seated Young Man and Two Studies of the Right Arm
Michael Whynot (after Michelangelo)


"If I have seen further than other men, it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants." Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727)

There is a long tradition going back to the renaissance of copying after master drawings by students as a way of learning the art of drawing. With the resurgence in interest in realistic and representational draftsmanship, we need to reacquaint ourselves with these methods from the past. Drawing from classical casts as a way to understand form and light, drawing from the live nude as a way to internalize the infinite gestures of men, and copying after master drawings as a means of understanding how a master sees.

I cannot speak with these long-dead masters, cannot pick their brains for their secrets, but I can hold onto their hands as they draw across time; I can still see through the master's eyes.