Drawing is “going for a walk with a line.”






Paul Klee (1879-1940)
painter and graphic artist




Paul Klee (German, 1879–1940)
Introducing the Miracle
[Vorführung des Wunders]
1916/54

I would say that art is more like taking the eye for a gentle stroll.



I’d chosen Venice as a destination because I wanted to study the Tintoretto’s, gaze in admiration at the Titian’s and see the fabled light for myself. I returned with 160 frames on my camera, admittedly many of these are more memories than potential subjects but the master of Venice Rio stood out as a composition because I liked the overall effect, temporarily overlooking that perspective drawing is my least favourite element of any subject.



The aspects that were obviously appealing to me were the dramatic contrasts of the deep shadows and brightly lit boats. The shadows were challenging in themselves because they could easily degenerate into a dull and boring surface. It was important to the overall feel that they retained an interesting texture without appearing to be just walls that were a darker colour; they needed to seem ‘unlit’ but visible, to contrast and frame the bright highlights in the middle ground. It wasn’t until after I began that the subtle complexities of the underlying structure started to reveal themselves

Venice Rio

I like the way there are small highlights in the plants and details that are picked out in a way that encourages a visual route around the surface that echoes the more dominant route of the shadows. The challenge of these lights was that they needed to remain a supporting echo to the very dominant highlights of the boats and parts of the bridge.



The bridge in itself was intriguing because it appeared at first glance to be square across the Rio but is in reality at a very irritating angle as far as perspective is concerned. Another aspect that I hadn’t noticed initially was the tendency for the buildings to be slightly wonky (technical term). This created quite a dilemma for me whether to aim for accuracy where it could so easily look like my perspective drawing was flawed or straighten them up a bit and know that I hadn’t been accurate; I settled on my favourite solution of ‘near enough’ as being about right.



Another aspect that is significant to the whole composition is the right hand side of the bridge as there are a number of elements that keep directing attention towards this area of the picture.



One of the technical discoveries I’ve made from this visual exploration is how using a variety of marks can create a quite separate element of composition. For instance, the dark areas in the foreground are built up to suggest the various textures, then overlaid with more vigorous pencil work to create a subtle sense of energy as if the shadows were a physical form; this is then contrasted against the more controlled and precise areas of pencil work that create areas of calmness and these varieties of marks form a counterbalance to each other.



Venice Rio was finished around midnight the night before I submitted my portfolio to become an Associate member of the Society of Graphic Fine Artists, so I haven’t actually sat and had a good look at the finished drawing yet.

Dayboats

There are a number of elements that can be drawn on to create this journey, whether these be singled out or used in partnership. The strongest element of the journey in Dayboats is the balancing of the strong white on the left boat which acts as a pause against all the surrounding busy surfaces and textures. There are a number of routes around the picture that follow along the ‘architectural’ structures. If you look at it for a while, notice how your gaze travels around the different items but will invariably return to the white boat – then off it goes again when it’s had a brief rest, trying out a different route perhaps.



It would be inaccurate to think that I am always conscious of a full understanding of how or why a composition works right up until it’s completed. Usually, I see something that I find striking because of one aspect of the image (like the reflections in Dayboats) and discover the reasons for it working, for me, whilst I’m getting it on paper. I was aware of how the overall building and features contributed to the flow of Dayboats before beginning it but inconspicuous details like the shadows cast in the left hand side or the rope hanging down from the scaffolding – quite minor details, almost ignored visually – are integral to keeping that visual flow going. I was totally unaware of the significance of the white boat until it was finished.



So drawing is my way of finding out what it is about a view that interests or intrigues me; it’s pulling the elements apart to find out how it works, what makes it striking to me, discovering why it appeals.



Apart from Pine Trees that is; I’ve never come up with a satisfactory explanation for that one – yet.