Following on from my previous post

 In my note book I further explored the image:

Making a Picabian composition

 I am taking you back to my posting of Tuesday January 12th and my drawing in response to Wren's triangulated pose: 

Here I have spent a few moments playing around with my original drawing and an attempt to recapture the actual pose, and then to superimpose one upon the other: The original drawing is on the right of this first image.

An emancipated performance on an A1

It's a good feeling! 

Every so often there appears on one's canvas a surprise.

To say I  am uncertain as to why this happens is not so true.

The quality of one's days events and activities are a prerequisite.

The warmth of the sun, and the comparative dryness of the land.

The hens located in their new summer home.

The rhubarb shoots cleared of their weeds.

Tomato seeds planted in their trays.

Croaking frogs and their spawn in the vegetable garden pond.

And a bottle of a Sangiovese.

We have Andrew presenting:

2 x 7.5 minute poses

1 x 15 minute pose

1 x 1 hour pose (with two cameras and a mirror)

In this first drawing I  have achieved a relationship between the first two poses.

Next. a 15 minute pose from which I extracted two parts of emphasis: a hand on the knee followed by an arm being supported on the edge of a stool. A continuation of my morphing process which seems to appear every so often.

The evening of poses was highlighted by Andrew presenting a reclining position with a mirror and two camera positions. Suddenly we were challenged and provoked into a different sort of action. 

The reflection in the mirror is on the right and you can make out the side of Andrew's head. This went into the drawing first. The vertical lines are the mirror frame. Then from the pose itself I took the lower leg and foot and in went his head and left arm and hand.  And probably more Picabian than anything previously is achieved by my switching to the other camera shot and superimposing the whole of the reclining pose right across the other parts of the drawing. I enjoy how the heads on the right have merged together, and also the contrasting weights of line on the left which helps create spatiality.

 

"here is a rich vein to be mined"

As you will know I am totally fascinated and inspired by the works of Francis Picabia, and particularly by his period of 'transparency' creations. I keep discovering academic papers about his life, his art, and the movements he was so much part of. 

Earlier today before I posted my latest set of life-drawings below (whilst it was cold and pouring with rain outside and I was waiting for the delivery of an 8 ton log splitter) I came across Pierre de Massot describing and explaining 'words in a hat' about how Picabia used chance and randomness in his work.

This was in connection with the approach that Picabia took to his writing. But I can see how it equally applies to his painting. He recalls how Picabia would write down words on small pieces of paper, putting them into a hat, shaking the hat, taking out pieces of paper, one by one, randomly - then composing a sentence according to the order in which the words were retrieved. 

I relate to this approach very much. I see that it begins to help to explain and in fact begins to describe my process. 

Firstly there is the removing process. The model presents the pose to me and immediately I commence my fracturing into fragments sequence. My eye moves over and around the whole and then by chance quite randomly homes in on one part and I start responding to this part on my paper. Of course this is not a random selection. Something, somewhere has influenced and directed this focus. 

Then I move on to the placing process to include the next anatomical part which has for some reason attracted me, and so on and so on (until time is up). This is me layering and superimposing, employing transparency, suggesting depth and perspective, and generating the illusion of spatiality. All this on a two-dimensional surface. 

Here I am describing the essence of my de-constructive/con-structive process. However, sometimes (in retrospect) I feel that the most deconstruction is not deconstructed enough (I am going to have to delay exploring this concept until later).

Picabia talks of  "life the way I like it". I like to life-draw the way I like to see it, the way I am happy drawing it. But why do my drawings end up as they do? A combinatoric rearrangement can result in any number of different permutations, but this takes place within a closed system. Or does it? Can external forces/influences be excluded?

So what is this rich vein to be mined? ......... Why do I de-construct? .......What are my criteria for selecting my starting point? ...... What influences my selection sequence? .......How do I elect to place one part in a juxtapositional relationship with that, or those, which have gone before?

What is it that determines a successful layering outcome? Is it chance?

When you look at a drawing, you are not seeing or experiencing what happened and took place during the time of the making of the drawing. You are not looking at or seeing the artists's experiential engagement. You are not seeing process. You are standing in front of a product but with a minimal connection/awareness of the process. It is impossible for you to imagine the content of the duration of creating the drawing (its a bit like compressing a life-time into a week) or (contrasting the long period of sedimentation required for forming petroleum, millions of years, to the time for its speedy extraction and consumption). Sedimentary fossil accrues massive energy..........a drawing emerges from a deep meditative and very persosnal engagement, and dialogue, between artist and muse.........and its complexity presents a deep vein to be mined.

So, let's get on to what took place last evening. 

In Andrew's virtual life-drawing Monday evening program he had arranged with a model colleague, Fra, a series of single and joint poses, lasting from 5 minutes thro' to 30minutes or so. One or two included movement poses. For the joint poses we were supposed to be able to get them both on our screens together. This I was unable to accomplish, but I could flick from one to the other, and back and forth, when I wished to superimpose and layer.

This first drawing is a lovely example of exaggerated foreshortening and enhanced perspective.

This was to be the start of a number of superimposed layered drawings. But when the next pose came up I just had to put a virgin A1 on my easel in order to respond to its beauty. But I rather thought that the minimalist aspect of what had already taken place might be worth leaving. I think I was right.

This is Fra in movement. For me it beats Duchamp descending his staircase.

She floats and folds thro' the space. 

When a model moves in space, however slowly, it is not very often that the whole form can be responded to (although there are numerous instances recorded on this blog where I have successfully suggested the whole body as it moves thro' its positional changes). So there is a strong tendency to follow on with the first part of the anatomy that finds itself on the paper.

This next drawing is an outcome of the rich vein of cognitive and perceptual processes which I intend to mine. I have reconstructed from my sequential attention to various parts of the pose a form which (upon reflection) I feel says a great deal more than the sum of the parts about the essence and character of the pose. 

I moved from Fra to Andrew, back and forth, many many times during this drawing. I recall there were so many events in each of the poses which attracted. But I had to make a start. I think Fra's groin area went in first, and I then instantly brought in Andrew's groin area alongside to the right. Yet this was added as part and parcel with his hand high upon his knee. This was the essence. Bits were then emphasised with heavier mark-making.

There is a Hans Bellmer moment here with the breast growing from the thigh. This is an example of a surprise phenomena which is not designed or even being slightly aware of during the process.

This was the final drawing. Fra and Andrew took up similar poses. I recall my feeling at the time that a reclining pose would end up compressed in a portrait format. But I persevered. You may recall that I retain a number of constants in my work, e.g. line not tonal; portrait not landscape; graphite pencil or fine-liner pen (in order to keep control of the variables and so enable me to focus on what I consider to be more fundamental issues). Amusing outcomes: somewhat cartoon-like with Fra's head so large against her torso, and Andrew appearing distracted by something happening over to his left. But it was fun!

 

Wren on February 8th 2021

Here we are at another 'virtual' life-drawing session.

I ask how much longer can this be going on?

Is this becoming the norm?

More importantly how are my own life-drawing responses changing to this new medium?

I do see some changes. But exactly what they are, and how significant they might be, I am not at all sure. 

I prefer the view that what might be detected is an evolutionary change. In other words, I am simply moving on from that which has appeared in the past, and any difference will often be slight but occasionally will be revolutionary. 

As you know I have a pre-occupation with the 'transparency' philosophy of Francis Picabia, and I have written about this many times before. The outcome of this approach is that I have become infatuated with the idea of placing one drawing on top of another, and then perhaps a third drawing on top of what has gone before, and so on.  This then becomes a battle and a challenge to sort out the emerging confusion of lines which are appearing on the paper.

Today was no exception to this evolving process. 

To start with we had three 5 minute poses. I still am unable to find all three.

Then on to two 15 minute poses.

The long arm and the breast went in first, and gave a structure to the composition. The face profile attracted, and as in a number of recent drawings this was introduced within the already established framework of the body. I then could not resist the foot, which is a part of the anatomy I have become addicted to. 

Here the upperpart of the pose (the legs) are lowered in the drawing to engage with the lower part which is brought up to meet it and to overlap with it.

Finally, and for 40 minutes, Wren created a lovely triangulated  format which |I enthusiastically engaged with. My linear line approach became challenged as I felt a need to introduce some tonal response, which I did with a minimal application of some Derwent tinted charcoal caressed with my fingers.

 

Fra on February 1st 2021

"Remember a line cannot exist alone; it always brings a companion along. No lines can go wild; every line must have its function"    Henri Matisse 1908.

For some time now I have avoided the approach of a 'tonalist'. In fact, I have claimed that I can deal with tone with line, through variation in weight and strength in the way I touch the paper with my graphite pencils, in the way I make my marks on the paper. 

However over the past months, whilst participating in virtual life-drawing sessions, tonal responses have crept in. However much I have attempted to explore and exploit 'line', and to constrain myself to nurture a minimilist linier approach, I keep finding myself hatching and cross-hatching and applying tonal washes with, for example, finger smudged charcoal. I don't know, but I feel this may be brought on by my sitting in front of my big tv screen on to which I direct the live pose from my computer/zoom link. Maybe it is the flat screen upon which lighting contrasts appear to be exaggerated which makes me respond in this way. I am really not at all sure about this.

This evening we have Fra, and her first two poses of 7.5 minutes each I placed on one A1 paper. I deliberately intended to respond in this way and fortunately Fra presented two standing poses which I was able to superimpose and follow my 'transparency' process.

Then Fra presented a 15 minute standing pose which had strong lighting contrasts so I found myself drawn into using dark charcoal. Her legs and bottom had to go in first: such lovely curves and tonal contrasts. But there were other parts to the pose. How to include these? Her face went in (in the way I have been recently placing a head within a torso) and interestingly it appeared to look out from within as her skin was pulled back as in an medical anatomical investigation. I always enjoy drawing feet, so one of these just had to go in. 

We are now on to the first of two 30 minute poses. The breast and left hand were the first to be engaged with. I had in mind at this early start to bring in the right hand eventually, but this had to waite as the coupled feet attracted me. I then became aware of the contrasting lines of the context. I have on a number of occasions felt that the organic curvilinier lines of the body would be enhanced by contrasting them with the linear geometry of any supporting structures, e.g. plinths, tables, etc. so here the door panels and skirting board were introduced in order to provide this contrast. As a result we seem to have a rather mystical, ghost like, figure floating within this structure.

Finally, Fra lay on her back with her legs up against and supported by the wall beyond, her head towards the camera. The legs and the attractive groin area immediately went in taking up the full verticality of the A1 sheet of 220gsm sheet of cartridge paper. But then I was presented with how to respond to her folded arms and the lovely tilt of her head as it faced towards the viewer with its tonal lighting contrast. In it went, superimposed. 

When I came to photograph the drawing and started to reflect upon the outcome I turned the paper thro' 180 degrees, and it seemed to make a greater sense to me. At this point I recalled how Egon Schiele on many occasions played with his clients and with his exhibition organisers by applying his small rectangular block of 'date and name' at 90 degrees to the way the drawing had been made, So some of his works were often displayed to the public turned thro' 90 degrees. No one knew of this, but he enjoyed it, and of course his drawings worked.

An interesting outcome of this little play of mine is that a narrative seems to more easily come to mind. How about;: "Please don't leave me. I won't let you go!" or perhaps its more of a rugby tackle.

Postscript: from Paul McCartney "I used to think anyone doing anything weird was weird. Now I know that it is people who call others weird that are weird"  As you view my drawings are you calling me weird? If so, then please let me know. Or do you simply accept that what you see in my drawings reflects what I am seeing, reflects how I am seeing it, and my drawings represent my perception and  my interpretation of the muse before me?