It’s strange and mysterious and truly wonderful how some important things repeatedly pop into one’s mind. It’s as if their importance needs to mull around in the subconscious until their meanings can reach all the places where they might reveal their special significance. Like last year Bill Berg said, “I love to draw.” That thought has haunted me ever since. Not that I wished I loved to draw, because I already do, but possibly because I desired to some day use the statement to inspire others to unabashedly embrace the same thought.
Last week one of the young artists in the intern program asked me: “What artists are best to study for ones preparation for animation?” My immediate reply was “All accomplished draftsmen would be good to study. Each one may have something different to offer.” One thing to consider in ones study is the fact that future Disney productions will require a very broad area of expertise. They will require, on the one hand, drawing extremely cartoony characters like Roger Rabbit, and on the other hand, somewhat realistic (even classical) figures as in Beauty and the Beast. So perhaps right next to your volumes of ancient and modern “masters,” you should have a selection of MAD magazines, some Disney classics, a set of Rien Poortvliet’s masterfully illustrated books on men and animals, etc. If you weren’t born a genius you’re going to have to work hard to become one. Studying to become a genius can be a lot of fun, but becoming one is something I’ll never be able to comment on.
Another statement that reverberates in my memory happened recently when I explained how to accomplish a certain gesture. The artist said “I wish I could think like that.” It would be an oversimplification to say, “It’s just a matter of being logical.” Behind the logic of directing and acting, which is what you do when you make a drawing, goes a great deal of observation, study, sensitivity, and awareness.
I think being logical about telling a story in drawing is a lot like reading a road map. First one must have a destination, and then one must pick the streets that lead to that destination. When making a drawing, the goal (destination) for making the drawing must first be established (the story). Certainly making a drawing of a petite lady drinking a cup of tea would differ greatly in all ways from drawing a husky boxer preparing to knock out his opponent. The requirements for depicting either of these are quite obvious. Those requirements will hopefully be found in one’s background and training, and must be activated as the drawing is being made.
Last week I analyzed some drawings in class wherein the model was looking at something. All looks, of course, are not the same, but one thing is for sure, the eyes if they are looking at something must be pointing toward the object being looked at. Not the zigzag course one would have to take following a street map, but an “as the crow flies” course. That is basic. To strengthen that look, the rest of the body must be drawn (no matter what the pose) in a way that helps to augment that look, and also to explain the meaning of the look.
I will spend more time on that subject in future handouts, but for now, I would like to end with a quote from a book called My Eye is in Love by Frederick Franck. It is a very inspiring bit of writing and it contains some thoughts that are apropos to the plights of all of us. Also it carries Bill’s thought about loving to draw a bit further, perhaps a bit too dramatically, but so what! I rather enjoy people getting dramatic about the things they love.
My eye is in love with this world. My eye is in love with its own perception of life. It affirms and rejoices. It is alive.
Through my eye I relate to the world around me. The images on its retina are so poignant that I have to draw. For where the eye in love perceives, the hand involuntarily follows the forms as if to encompass them. Here is the beginning of drawing.
To me then, drawing is a way of living a way toward life’s fullness. It is not just a technique and certainly not mere skill. It is a total response. When I see a thing my first desire is not to possess what I see, or to eat it, to buy it, to name, to classify, or to change it. My first desire is to draw it.
Political man, economic man, historical man, may well have contempt for this apparently senseless response to life. To me drawing, like singing or dancing, is an activity that temporarily delivers me from history. Maybe it transcends it.
Drawing, while born from awareness, leads to an even greater awareness which involves me totally, yet impartially with all that passes before my eye: with mountains and human faces, city streets and humblest weeds, nude bodies, and the pebbles and shells of the seashore.
What started as a book about drawing became a book about seeing and hence about being humanly aware and alive.
