These 2 “$4 Lawn Job” pieces will be in the Richeson 75 exhibit. I am a bit puzzled over why the bridge is in the book but not the exhibit and these 2 are in the exhibit but not the book. Life is full of mysteries!
Redwood & Dogwood, 9-1/2 x 6″, pencil, $400
Wood, Wind, Waves, 11-3/4 x 7″, $500
Our lawn mowing boy spent a fair amount of time thinking about what Mr. Persnickety told him. “No one has ever done a $4 lawn job for me.” He decided that he would be the first. I’ve forgotten much of what the boy did, but it did involve some sort of a roller device to flatten any slight bumps and there was a nap in the middle of the day so he could continue on in the afternoon. When he had finally exhausted every possible method of perfecting that lawn, he knocked on the door and announced to Mr. Persnickety that he had done a $4 lawn job. Mr. Persnickety was skeptical and began inspecting his work. After going over every inch of his yard, he agreed that the boy had indeed accomplished the impossible and he paid him his $4.
What does that have to do with my art? Hang on, I’m getting to that part! You may have noticed that I don’t participate in many competitions or shows that are juried and judged. Earlier in my career, I tried those. After several rejections, (one show was a consistent winner – Madera Arts Council Ag Arts) and after reading a great deal about ways to build an art career, it seemed best to just focus on the local market.
Then, along came the Richeson 75. This is the first show I’d heard of that separates dry media from oils from wet media, which means pencil isn’t competing against painting. Something told me to try this show, and I knew I was facing my own $4 lawn job challenge. (REALLY! That is how I thought of it!)
First, I chose my best subject and found the best possible photo of it. Then, I cropped it to the Golden Rectangle proportions, drew it carefully, shaded it, took it to my students to evaluate, layered a bit more, lightened here and darkened there, put it under a magnifier and sharpened all the edges of the bridge, studied it, changed a few things, and finally, sent it to the Richeson 75 in the Landscape, dry media category.
Rappity, tappity, bingety, BANG, BOOM!!! chhhhhhhh (that last noise was a cymbal.)
Rural Dignity, pencil, 6×9-1/2″
It will be in the exhibition book for the Landscape, Architecture and Seascape 2011 show!!
Our lawn-mowing boy in the story was satisfied with the $2 job for awhile, and then decided to see if he could do the mowing job for $3. This time he mowed carefully in one direction, then mowed carefully in the other. He probably trimmed the edges and dug out some weeds. It took a bit of fancy talking, but he convinced Mr. Persnickety that the job was indeed worth $3.
When I read the story, I couldn’t figure out how he could possibly improve on that massive effort at perfection. I thought he ought to be satisfied that he was able to do a $3 lawn job; after all, Mr. Persnickety had warned him in advance that no one had ever done a $4 job in the history of hiring neighborhood boys to mow.
This is just how I felt when I began drawing collages. It took a long time to plan, a long time to lay out, and a very long time to shade. Didn’t seem as if there was any place to improve after that!
After our boy in the story mowed the lawn, he went home to puzzle out how to earn $2 next time. After some thought, the second time he mowed he probably went over the lawn two times, a bit more carefully and perhaps in 2 different directions. He told Mr. Persnickety it was a $2 job, he was paid, and both were happy.
In comparing this story to my drawings, this is my version of the $2 lawn job. Still have pencil, desire, and skill. A neighbor/friend/customer suggested that I back up and show the cabin in its setting. (Thanks, Janey!) I was a bit worried about tackling trees, but knew I could figure it out with enough practice. Eventually I got comfortable with the added “growies”.
There is a story from my childhood about a boy who went to a neighbor looking to earn money. The neighbor, whom we will call Mr. Persnickety, said he could mow the lawn. The boy was to supposed determine if he had done a $1, $2, $3 or $4 job and tell Mr. Persnickety. If the man agreed, he would pay the boy that amount.
I’ve never forgotten the story. In applying it to drawing, my early work would be the $1 job. Have pencil, have some skill, have great eagerness, will draw. It is probably the equivalent of making one quick pass across the lawn with the mower. Here are 2 of my early drawings. I had no idea how to handle trees or shrubs, and if someone asked me to draw a building, I drew it. Just it. Nothing else but it. Start at the beginning, finish at the end, sign, get my dollar and go home.
#13 in the series “Thoughtful Thursdays”
Reasons to Learn to Draw
Drawing is a skill that can be both taught and learned. If you compare it to typing, this makes sense: some people top out at 25 words per minute and others can become as fast as 90 words per minute. All are indisputably typing.
Why should a person learn to draw? Back in the “olden days”, it was considered a necessary life skill and was a regular subject in school. Now that we have easy and accessible photography and even easier and accessible internet, drawing has fallen into the categories of hobby or talent. Why draw if you can take a photo?
A few years ago there was a retired gentleman in Three Rivers who had trouble filling his days. We became acquainted at various art shows, and we would discuss drawing. After several conversations, he approached me and asked, “Do you really think you could teach me how to draw?” I responded in the affirmative and asked him why he wanted to learn. His answer still cracks me up: “I don’t really care about art; I just want to meet women!”
Besides the social aspect of taking drawing lessons with a small group, drawing helps us to look carefully at the places and items in our lives. It teaches how to see what is really in front of us, not what we assume is there, or think we see. A number of my drawing students have told me that after a few weeks of lessons, they begin to observe the world around them differently. Details, light and shadow, shapes, and ideas for drawings are all suddenly visible as never before.
Some people choose to take drawing lessons out of curiosity. They’ve heard me say I can teach anyone how to draw, with the qualifier that he can listen to instructions. These folks wonder if they are the exceptions and decide to just give it a try. The only ones who haven’t learned are those who quit too soon!
Other students come to me because they are painters who are dissatisfied with their paintings. Still others want to become painters and they know that drawing comes before painting. By learning to draw in pencil, a person will learn to see shapes, proportions, perspective, and learn about values. Values are the darks and the lights, and without them, a picture gets described as being “flat”.
Several people have asked me for help because at some time in their past an art teacher crushed their spirits. If someone thinks he might have an artistic bent and his work is thoughtlessly dismissed, it can really damage his confidence. I have spent time listening to people’s stories, looking at their work, showing them new ways to do things, and watching them blossom into people who can draw.
Some of my drawing students draw better than I do! Although I thoroughly enjoy the time together, I ask them why they think they still need lessons. The answer is usually that if they haven’t reserved a spot in their week specifically for drawing, they won’t ever draw at all in spite of good intentions.
The man who just wanted to meet women did make some friends, and before he succumbed to cancer, he completed 2 beautiful pencil drawings. He just kept repeating, “I can’t believe I did this!” Rejoicing with him over his accomplishments is one of my happiest memories in all the years of teaching private drawing lessons.
#12 in the series “Thoughtful Thursdays”
Commissions are one of the most necessary pieces of the art career patchwork quilt. Not every artist is willing to draw or paint to a customer’s specifications. Some believe it is too commercial or compromising. Of course it is commercial – this is how I earn my living! Compromising can mean the acceptance of standards that are lower than is desirable, but I believe the artist still has control over the piece and doesn’t have to make work that discredits a professional reputation.
The process begins as do all custom undertakings – with a conversation. Clear communication is essential for happy customers. I listen to the potential client explain his idea or vision. I listen to his description of the subject and recommend the medium based on my experience.
If the customer wants a picture of his house, I almost always advise pencil because such a high level of detail can be achieved. If the subject is scenery and color is the reason for the request, oil is the obvious choice. In portraiture, I recommend pencil because it provides the best chance to capture a likeness. Portraiture is tricky – I can get all the features in place and accidentally draw the guy’s cousin! If it is a view of someone from the back, oil paint works well to capture the stance and the light.
To become familiar with the subject and avoid copyright problems, I take my own photos. The customer often provides snapshots or emails digital photos to me. Occasionally I have been known to say that I need to visit the place and see it with my own eyes. No one has actually offered air fare to Cape Cod, Montana or even South Africa, but it hasn’t been for lack of effort on my part!
After taking the photos, I narrow the selection down to two or three choices. If the customer has asked for a collage, I provide several sketches. Occasionally the customer will say the magic words, “You’re the professional” which means I get to choose the design I like best.
Some customers enjoy seeing the piece in progress; others prefer to just see the finished work. This is another area that should be discussed and decided at the beginning of the project.
Deadlines are also very important to establish. I’ve been asked to do things on impossibly short notice and also on possibly short notice. Either way, I am honest and don’t promise things that I can’t deliver. Unfortunately there is a terrible reputation for flakiness in my profession, so I make it a point to finish on time or earlier.
Accepting commissions is a way to establish collectors and credibility. The artist has been selected for the job because of a consistent style and a reputation for reliability. Best of all, commissions are rewarding because there is an eager customer waiting at the end of the project.
Just in case there might be any doubt, I thought I’d continue to prove my case that I am indeed a California artist. I am an artist, I live in California, and this is my regular subject matter:
We grow oranges in California, particularly in Tulare County. I paint oranges, oh yes!
And, I’ve been drawing oranges for years and years!
The Sierra Nevada mountain range is in California. I paint this, hence, I am a California artist. Much of it happens to be in Tulare County, and that also makes me a Tulare County artist.
See? The Sierra Nevada has been the subject matter of this California artist for years! Why did I think I could only use that title if I drew Yosemite??
The California Poppy is one of my favorite subjects – doesn’t this qualify me as a California artist? They grow in my own yard, for Pete’s sake! (Who is this Pete, anyway? Is he a Californian?)
A poppy in pencil isn’t any less a poppy, is it? It is still the California state flower, and I drew it. Therefore, I am a California artist!
Do I believe it yet? Maybe. Maybe I have to do one more entry to convince myself (and Google!)
After I got over the thrill of drawing what was really in front of my eyes, I began to want to make better pictures. Real life is messy; artists get to clean it up. It takes practice to draw what isn’t really there, to make up a tree that you didn’t see, to show the edge of the porch that was previously hidden, to work from multiple photos taken from slightly different angles. It is almost impossible to work from photos taken at different times of day from different distances and at different angles. This often requires the skill of a mind reader, and I have learned to say no to some of these requests. But to a certain degree, I can create what we prefer was there.
When someone asks me to draw a house and provides a perfect photo, I have been known to ask why they want a drawing when the photo says it all. The answer is usually that pencil is so beautiful. This is a thrill to my little pencil-loving heart!
Here is the main photo of Farewell Gap again:
Here is a painting in which I scooted things ever so slightly to suit myself.
If you are standing on the bridge at the end of the road in Mineral King, you are probably just in awe of the view. Your brain knows there is a stream underfoot, a cabin sort of close, and Farewell Gap in the distance. Not very many people outside of careful photographers ever realize that there is no place to stand where all three line up for a complete photo! So, when I draw or paint this scene now, I make the necessary adjustments. Until this blog posting, I have never admitted such treachery and deception in recordable form!
And here it is in pencil from 2005 when I really started becoming bold about deceiving the world! (yes, I exaggerate to make a point – try not to get all worked up here!)
As we learn to put on paper what we really see instead of our symbols, it is shocking to learn how much is really there and how it is really shaped or sized. Drawing upside down is one tool; tracing the basic elements and only looking at the tracing instead of the photo is another tool. Another way to simplify what is in front of our eyes is to squint, and the detail fades.
You saw an example of Farewell Gap as it was interpreted by someone who didn’t see or chose to ignore reality. Here is a drawing I did of Farewell Gap a long time ago when I was still bound to photos. It was such a thrill to put on paper exactly what I saw that I didn’t have any interest in editing or creating. I was lost in the joy of “I CAN DO THIS!”
This is not the actual photo from which I worked – 1994 is too long ago for me to be able to put my hands on that exact piece of paper! However, here is the photo of Farewell Gap for comparison purposes:
