Tip:
You can draw everywhere that photography is allowed. But this usually means the opposite as well: if photography is not permitted for security, religious, or other sensitive reasons, the same applies to your sketching.
Use your head
A few years ago, I was in the Fatih district of Istanbul and was drawing a group of religious Muslims who were across the street. When they saw what I was doing, they shouted angrily at me and drew their fingers across their throats to show that they wanted to cut mine. I crossed the street to approach them and asked why they were threatening a guest in their country. We talked for a while and during this discussion, for the first and only time, I relinquished a page from my sketchbook. Better than my head.
In certain situations it’s probably wise not to tempt fate. But a book about drawing cannot tell you not to draw. Instead my advice is not to get caught. The advantage of a sketchbook is that you can close it if the situation appears precarious.
Tip:
People notice when they are being watched. It’s a magical thing—though in some cases, also dangerous. Do not stare at your subjects too long. Look in a different direction now and then and act as if you are interested in something else entirely. Wear sunglasses!
Portraits and caricature
Close your eyes for a moment and try to describe yourself. I doubt if you will think, “I’m the one with the big nose and freckles.” If you ask your friends to describe you, you will hear hardly anything about your appearance. Instead they may say you’re a good cook, are funny, or like Star Trek.
My advice, therefore, is to put that into your drawing. You’re not the one with the big nose. Even if you have one, your nose does not define you.
The great art of caricature is to exaggerate a feature to portray a person. But drawing can do more. You can attempt to penetrate outward appearances and infuse a person’s features with their inner traits. Go beyond the surface. Don’t be too analytical; try to ascertain intuitively what defines the person.
One good technique for achieving this is blind contour drawing. It shortens the pathway from the eye to the hand, circumventing doubt and analysis.
Look at your subject closely and put yourself in her place. Good caricaturists are interested in people, not noses. You need to develop a closeness to the person to make a good portrait.
Tip:
Pay attention to the eyes and mouth. They are more recognizable features than the noses. Caricatures with big noses do not work because of the nose, but in spite of it.
Nudes and proportion
If you type “human being” into Google’s image search function the first results will not be photographs or movie stills. The first results will be drawings of people, most of all the famous study of proportions by Leonardo da Vinci from c. 1490.
Figure drawing is not very easy. There are a variety of instruction manuals for this. You are surely familiar with those wooden jointed dolls and models whose body parts are reduced to simple shapes. They can be helpful, but my personal advice is just to start drawing. Use your sketchbook and familiarize yourself with the human body through drawing. The more you draw people, the easier it will become.
You will have the opportunity to draw unclothed people more often than you’d think. Go to the swimming pool or the beach, draw your partner or yourself, and attend nude drawing courses. You’ll see, nudes are fun.
In the end it will be like everything else that you learn. If it’s fun, you’ll do it more often. If you do it often, you’ll do it well.
“It won’t stop moving!”
That’s the problem in a nutshell. Drawing animals may sound tricky, but it’s worth it because they are outstanding subjects.
Start with animals that aren’t moving. They can be sleeping animals (your cat) or dead animals (a mouse that your cat “presented” to you). There are also lazy and slow animals, like turtles and snails.
At the start you can even use “stuffed” animals. Every large city has a natural history museum full of specimens—the ideal place to make your first attempts at drawing animals.
Live animals can be found almost everywhere: in the country and in the city, in the meadow and on the beach, at the zoo and at the circus. Live animals are great for drawing because, just like us, they have characters and personalities, they feel and think, and it’s worthwhile to put on paper what we see in them.
There is only one problem with live animals: they won’t sit still. You’ll hardly have drawn two lines and your subject will start moving. Use your memory, your knowledge of anatomy, and your imagination. Begin drawing as long as your subject is motionless and add to it from what you remember when it starts moving.
The more you draw animals, the more you’ll know. The more you know, the easier it gets.
Tip:
Work quickly while your subject is sitting still and always begin with the most important thing: the pose. You can always add the texture of the fur long after the animal has disappeared back into its den.
New and old places
Why do we draw Tuscan farmhouses? Why picturesque villages? Why sprawling castles on the Rhine? One answer is that they are so lovely and romantic. This is true, of course.
But why are they lovelier than a suburban development in New Jersey? Why do hosts of watercolorists always paint Tuscany and not a mall in Wisconsin?
The answer to this question is a little bit complicated. In his own time, Rembrandt’s windmills were not depictions of the “good old days,” but the latest state of the art, and Dürer’s castles were his contemporaries. Basically, the artists then painted wind power plants and buildings. So why is it so curiously difficult for us today to let go of the same old subjects and paint modern ones instead?
Of course, Tuscany is beautiful. Yet all too often, our perception of “beauty” means “familiar”— in other words, others already found it “beautiful” and it is therefore a subject that is allowed to be painted.
The Romantics sought out these subjects, not because they appeared beautiful to them, but because they meant something. The retrospection of the Romantic period was, in fact, related to a yearning for better days, for mystery, and an escape from the oh-so-dull everyday.
Consider the everyday
The age-old questions remain quite relevant: why do we still climb up to the mountains? Are they beautiful because they mean something to us? Because they offer history, romance, a subject? Because they meant something generations ago? Paintings tend to degenerate to postcard views.
If your goal is actual documentation, you’ll notice that more contemporary landscapes are characterized by home improvement stores than by windmills. So when drawing, ask yourself, what does the subject mean to you personally? Search for a unique appeal. If the result is an ancient temple— fine. But you ought to be just as content painting an interesting bus stop in Dallas.
It’s your sketchbook—you decide what to fill it with.
Drawing buildings
How can you get such a big building on such a tiny sheet of paper—and do it right? No need to panic. It’s not that hard.
With architecture, you are mainly dealing with perspective drawing. It’s like drawing a shoebox: find two vanishing points, employ foreshortening, etc. But with buildings, lots of
minor details tend to distract us. There are doors, windows, corners, and angles everywhere, and all of these details themselves follow laws of perspective. If there are round shapes, too, like arches or cornices, confusion is boundless and you’ll soon want to just throw down your pencil.
It’s understandable. No other art form has changed the appearance of the world more than architecture, and no art form is more likely to outlast us. It’s not surprising, then, that it demands so much respect.
My advice is to shrink the subject to shoebox size. Once you imagine a miniaturized rough shape, everything will get easier. First take care of the lines without all the details. Try to see your house as a big cube. Then tran
sfer the basic shape to your page and add the details at the end. This process will squeeze that building perfectly into your sketchbook.
Tip:
Don’t forget that you’re just sketching the building—not constructing it. So don’t meticulously count every window; you can polish up the details once you’ve basically captured the overall shape.
Stay open
Can mundane places produce special drawings? Can special places produce outstanding drawings?
Of course, you can draw anywhere— no matter whether a place is spectacular or inconspicuous. What’s important is that it is interesting to you personally. Open yourself to the place, appreciate it, and your drawing will reflect your affections. Perhaps it won’t exactly capture the way it looks objectively—that’s a job for photography—but the way it looks to you. That’s what counts.
Good and bad places
Where and what an artist draws makes a big difference. You’ll have to adjust yourself to very different outward circumstances if you draw in a peaceful park versus a precarious or dangerous place. In order to open up to a place, you must also ponder where and when you can draw.
The double-page spread shown on this page was made in a refugee camp in the Middle East. I was only able to draw because I was traveling with a journalist and a guide who informed the local militia about me—but it was still a threatening situation. By contrast, I sketched the state theater in Wiesbaden, Germany, shown on this page during an hour off from class on a sunny day.
You have to adjust yourself to places, for good or for bad. The rule for journeying artists: don’t go to dangerous places indiscriminately and don’t go to unsafe places unprepared.
Finding your spot
Before you begin, take time to carefully seek out a place to work.
Think about what technique you plan to use while sketching. If you plan to color a drawing, you’ll need more time than if you only plan to work with a pen or pencil. Make sure you will be able to comfortably stay at your workplace for a while. Don’t sit down on pathways that are traveled on, and avoid uncomfortable, cold, or windy spots as well as places where you feel you can be observed. It’s best to find a place where no one can stand behind you; ideally, against a wall.
Don’t forget to draw the cars
As obvious as it may sound: draw the cars!
If you imagine a picture of a mosque in Istanbul and then compare that with what you actually see there, you’ll notice one decisive difference: the cars are missing in your imagination! We all have several images, films, and photographs in our minds that characterize our idea of the world. When drawing, we lug boxes full of travel sketches, drafts, and illustrations by earlier generations of painters around with us—romanticized pictures, most of which were made before the advent of the automobile.
Today, though, places look different. So don’t trust the drawings of earlier generations; trust your own eyes. Draw the cars. Draw the billboards, the air conditioners, the traffic signs…draw your era!
This attitude will help you discover what is actually in front of you, rather than only seeking whatever is similar to the images in your mind.
Old pictures describe old times. Describe your own!
Cars mark the era
One more remark about automobiles: cars are like a time stamp for your sketches.
We all know exactly what car belongs in what place and in what time. A sleek sports car belongs in the 1960s and an environmentally friendly hybrid in the present. The cars in your drawings (similar to traffic signs) show exactly where and in what year your drawings were produced.
We may not always be mindful of it, but the present that we capture today will very soon be surprisingly long ago. That is a good reason to capture it (and its cars) faithfully.
Montages
Photographs are most suited for moments, drawings for montages.
Use your sketchbook to illuminate more than just one angle of a place. Capture what’s around you on one page. Draw vistas. Fill up a two-page spread with a variety of views and inhabitants of a place. Link spatial and chronological aspects in one view and tell a story with it.
You’ll see, montages tell far more than single shots.
Tip:
Emphasize important aspects by using color.
Objects
Objects and technical things are very rewarding subjects. They are ideal for training the eye. You can understand how they work and study their graphic elements, such as depth, perspective, contrast, structure, and texture. The great thing about objects is that they are very patient models.
The problem with objects, however, is that technical drawings in particular often only have a superficial appeal. As fascinating as they may be at first glance, they can become quite soulless and boring at second glance. To make things interesting, you must therefore understand something fundamental: objects are usually only interesting in reference to us.
Without people, objects are not at all imaginable. An object needs an author, a creator, as much as someone who uses the object. That is why the depiction of an object should always include a reference to a person. For instance, you can capture the abstract term “loneliness” by portraying an object, simply because the object by itself— say, a tipped-over chair — indicates the absence of people.
As artists, this means that we not only illustrate objects, but can also tell stories with them. This is where objects stop being just things.
Tip:
If you’re wondering how to portray something in a lively way so that it is interesting for viewers, the answer is simple: you yourself have to find it interesting!
When in Rome, see what the Romans see
This much is certain: it’s always better beyond the blue ridge of hills on the horizon than it is here. Being on the go is part of being human. It’s not for nothing that so many stories begin with a journey, that we are often on the move during summer (the “best time of the year”), and that “all of life is a journey.”
Sketchbooks are primarily travel books. They are journals and books of hours, in which we do not work in our usual surroundings, but reflect on what is outside, what is foreign.
Sketchbooks are not only suitable for drawing; we capture memories in sketchbooks, jot down addresses of holiday acquaintances, and stick interesting-looking bus tickets in them. A sketchbook is a laptop with no cables, ready and waiting to hold our sights and moments.
Travel drawings
Snap— that was one second. Snap, snap—that was two.
Foreign countries are fantastic and fascinating. They certainly earn more than two seconds of your attention. When you draw impressions in a foreign land, it’s only natural for you to deal with your subject for longer than it takes to snap a photo. Your subjects will thank you for it.
People recognize quite clearly the difference between genuine interest and touristy tallying up. When you draw in foreign countries, you’ll have a whole different approach to conversations with the locals (even in countries where making images of people may be frowned upon). By drawing something and intensively grappling with it you signal genuine interest. Interest is almost always rewarded. Perhaps it’s with a smile, a chat, or a cup of tea—regardless, it will be a moment that will stay with you.
The journeying artist is not a tourist
In centuries past, travelers collected treasures and trophies, made conquests, and grabbed booty—and did not always make the world a better place. Use your sketchbook differently. Artists should travel. We should reflect and document for our own benefit.
In your sketchbook you bring back something from a journey without taking anything away from the place. Actually, you are giving something back to it: you are giving yourself and the world a page of memories.
Drawing is a global language
Even if you don’t speak the local language, drawing is a global language. Pictures are the beginning of all language; they are understood without any words or syntax. Drawing is communicating. Sc
ribbling a bed or a loaf of bread on a scrap of paper overcomes any language barrier.
Maybe that is one reason pictures are revered—but also are taboo—in so many cultures. Aniconism— the prohibition of pictures—is a kind of language ban, a ban on dialogue between different cultures. Be aware of this issue when you are drawing while traveling. Pictures can burn bridges just as easily as they can build them. Much that we find fanciful is real life to the locals, and part of their identity.
So don’t behave like a paparazzo. Be aware of what is allowed and what is not and do not hurt the feelings of your hosts. In case of doubt, do not let go of your book, and when asked, show something neutral.
Tip:
One good trick is to draw different subjects on either side of a double-page spread. For instance, draw a street scene on the right-hand page and figures on the left. Use a loose sheet as a cover and slide it over the page with the figures if anyone takes a look.
The right place at the right time
You know the truism that you can be in the wrong place at the right time (and vice versa)? Both have to fit together to be right for drawing.
When crowds of people are pushing through your view, you’ll enjoy sketching as little as if you were in a rainstorm or in the cold (though I did once use vodka to watercolor in a Polish winter because it doesn’t freeze as easily as water…). You not only need the right place, but also the right time.
Dare to Sketch Page 4
