No one would dream of starting out to create a car by assembling piles of nuts, bolts, and miscellaneous parts. Nor should you dream of starting a drawing by assembling a bunch of bones, muscles, and miscellaneous parts. My observations in the Tuesday and Wednesday classes (and as animator/key cleanup for many years) has led me to believe this is the most self-evident roadblock standing in your way — starting with the parts. Somehow you will have to look beyond that beguiling surface appearance with its hypnotizing bulges of clothing and lines that so often misrepresent what goes on underneath. The model in class or the model sheet at the animation desks are merely there to identify the character used to perform the story you are telling.
There is an overwhelming tendency to draw the outline of the figure rather than the energy and thought within the body that is behind the move or the pose. A varying degree of mental and physical effort is put forth in executing an action. That effort involves muscular tensions, weight distribution, balance and counterbalance. Those are the things you must concentrate on — the outline of the body doesn’t always reveal them. The outline is only the edge of the figure from where you are observing it. Move around the figure and the edge changes. The tension, weight distribution, balance, and counterbalance doesn’t change. They are, you might say, the guts of the pose. If you make one line that doesn’t further reveal those things then it is like chaff and should be blown away by the wind. For all parts and lines of the body synchronize to form the pose. There are many parts with but one thing to say.
Picture a wave breaking on the beach. There is an energy behind its move — the wind and the moon’s pull. And the shape it takes on the shore is the shape of the beach. There are subtle hills and valleys of sand, and the water creeps as far as it can up into the valleys. All along the wave’s path are foamy patterns that are stretched out, visually defining the path and direction of the move. The circular forms of foam elongate in the direction of the flow. All the parts of the wave help to define the move. That is what happens when a figure makes a move. Or if the figure strikes a pose — that is like the wave at some chosen point in its journey. The forces are still at work whether at its extreme or somewhere approaching it. And for a good illustration of animation picture the wave as it is sucked back to the sea. There is overlap as the main body of water (primary action) rushes back down the slope, while the shallow foam-studded tip remains a moment longer (secondary action). Some of the foam will even go beyond the water’s extreme, for a little follow through. The elastic-like action causes the circular or oblong foam patterns to stretch into long linear shapes that are stretched to the breaking point, all the while defining the shape of the beach.
Meanwhile, back at the studio, I confiscated a few drawings from the last drawing session to illustrate some points. In all cases there is the first consideration — story. Then the use of balance and counterbalance, weight distribution, and muscular tensions. And because of these things you automatically get an outline — you get silhouette, negative space, squash and stretch, etc. In the first drawing I interrupted the artist because I felt he was preoccupied with parts such as clothing bulges, folds, and an arm with a hand on it. And I could not tell what was taking place. What should have been taking place was that this person is aghast at something that was said to her on the telephone. She draws away from it in disgust and holds the phone at an “I don’t believe what I just heard” distance. In my sketch, however crude, can you see the balance and counterbalance, the weight distribution, the tensions?
The next drawing, too, was begun minus a story. A very fine artist did this. She would have made a nice drawing of it, but I interrupted to plead for concentrating on the story first. The model was in a listening attitude, requiring that she lean forward with interest (weight distribution). The extended arm on the left counterbalances the extended elbow on the right. Muscular tension is used to stretch the upper body from the buttocks to the shoulder. Dropping the head down accents that stretch. Like the wave forming itself to the shore (its story), the figure forms itself to the “mold” of that gesture (its story). Any surface details on the figure would work like the patterns of foam on the wave.
The next pose offers an excellent opportunity to use counterbalance. This is a large doll the model is holding (our own Carole Holliday — she was great). And whether it is heavy or just bulky, the natural thing to do is thrust out your hip or belly to form a resting “shelf” for it. This requires that you bend back at the waist, and counterbalance that by getting the feet back far enough so you won’t fall over backwards. This, plus the shoulders held high to support the outstretched arms, shows that the doll is at least slightly cumbersome.
The last one is the same pose — different angle — same problem. I extended the right arm to show more bulk and thrust the left shoulder up to counterbalance. Also, since the weight is on the right leg, tilting the pelvis up on that side, the left buttocks will have dropped down. That forms a nice tension between that buttocks and the upraised shoulder.
BONUS SECTION: The following are some of Ollie Johnston’s drawings from The Rescuers that show Penny grappling with a similar problem (cleaned up incidentally by Walt Stanchfield). They read from right to left.
Again, I apologize for being so wordy but if you want to get the most out of your drawing, you’re going to have to think like that. Once it becomes part of your “second” nature, it will happen unconsciously, but it’s going to take some work to cut the groove first. It will not only make drawing more pleasurable, but will make it easier and faster to solve your problems by easing the pressure of those inevitable deadlines. As Ollie Johnston used to say, “It ain’t easy.”