It helps to look for the abstract qualities of a pose. In a real sense that is what you do when you caricature something. To abstract means to “take out”; that is, “separate or isolate.” When drawing a gesture, whatever it happens to portray, you have to, right from the beginning, decide what it is that you are going to say about it (in your drawing). When drawing from a model, for instance, you must “isolate” the important thing you need from the pose, subjugating all else to the role of support team. Ask yourself, — better yet, tell yourself — what is going on there, what is the story behind the pose? You have to separate or isolate just the vital thing that needs to be told. Isolate it so you can better portray it to your audience.
“It, it, it. What is this it you keep talking about?” you ask.
“It” is simply what you would say if you were describing the action or pose to someone in words. “He is bending over looking at something.” “He is leaning on something.” “He is sitting, leaning back on his right arm,” etc.
I sang in a light opera group for ten years, having the privilege of singing several lead tenor roles. It was an eye opener watching the director work with a group of amateurs. He had to be very precise in his direction for there wasn’t time to teach everyone how to act. His approach was much the same as an animator’s approach to a scene of animation. That is, keep it simple, put over one idea at a time, and play it so the audience can see it clearly. I wish all of you could attend some stage play rehearsals to watch the director work, see how he molds all the elements of a play to move along unencumbered by distracting trivia.
Literally you, the artist, are the director of each drawing you make. A stage director does not tell the actor how to act. He encourages the actor to use gestures and movements that carry the story forward in a sincere, convincing, clear, and properly motivated manner.
If you would adopt the role of director as you draw, you might be less inclined to settle for (copy) what the model has presented to you. You would say to yourself, speaking to your drawing, because your drawing is the actor that is going to perform for the audience, “This is what you are trying to put over, so use whatever resourcefulness you can conjure up, to do it. If you need weight, here, I will give you weight. Do you need more stretch? Here, by golly, is some stretch. Do you need some squash because of what you are doing, okay, you got it.”
Squash and stretch and weight are things that you don’t find in anatomy books, but are abstract qualities that bring drawings to life. If the artist doesn’t move in and take over the role of director, the drawings may deliver their performances in an amateur-like manner.
I saved a few of my correction drawings (again) to help put these ideas over. Sometimes the “story” as the model presents it is not too clear, and must undergo the director’s touch. This was the case in these drawings. I think Craig is a great model, nevertheless, his poses are as with all models, only the embryo of a storytelling drawing. We the director/artist have to take the stage and re-mold the pose to make sure it has all the necessary elements to put across the “story.”
I apologize for the lengthy explanations. It takes many words to explain all this, but as you who have watched me make these corrective sketches know, they take a matter of seconds (except when I keep on doodling long after I’ve illustrated the point). They will take you a matter of seconds also when you take over the directorship of your drawings.
Let’s delve right into the first drawing (story: man leaning on lance). He won’t look like he is leaning on something if he is standing straight up and down. One way to accomplish a lean is to thrust the hips back so the upper body is in a sense hanging in space with little or no body support, thus the rod suddenly takes on the function of support. Angling the legs into a triangular shape sends the eye upward, causing the hips to move backward and upward. Tilting the head to the left, away from the rod, forms a triangle like an arrow point, which helps to force the upper body downward. Lowering the shoulders causes the elbows to pull downward, which makes the hands become the support for all that weight and downward thrust.
In the second drawing, (story: man sitting, leaning on his right hand), to get more weight on that hand, he must lean back farther. A good clear angle at the fanny and a straight line at his bottom helps to put more weight on his fanny. A roundish line can be too balloon-like. Keeping the lower half of his body where it is, and stretching the top part back to the left, allows the belly to be “played up.” Angling the right leg toward us a little eliminates a feeling that everything is drawn in profile, and introduces a feeling of third dimension. Altering the angles of the legs sets up a nice tension — you can almost feel the left leg move inward.
I made a couple of extra sketches to explain the leg angle thing, and to show the difference if the angles had gone the other way. If there are two parallel lines
they are static. But if one of the lines is angled
it sets up a movement — to the left in this instance. When I angled the lower legs as I did, it set up a movement in the direction of the lean of the body, amplifying it (supporting role).
The next sketch angles this way,
which causes a move to the right. That’s what the model would do if he were going to straighten up.
Another pose was an intent look at something being held in the hands. A good director would never allow the “story” to be hidden from the audience. He would tell the actor to re-stage it so everyone would know what was taking place. So I got his right shoulder out of the way, to clear a path for his look to travel in. I bent him over, intensifying his interest in what he was looking at. I pulled his fanny back to the left allowing the left leg to stretch out, causing the spectator’s eye to sweep right up to the center of interest.
In the last drawing there is a solution to a problem a lot of you faced when turning the model into one of the fatter characters in the “Mermaid.” This pose was one of many where a look was the story. Creating a massive body covered up the look in the student’s drawing. Actually, the abstract of the pose was something like this — with look in the clear:
At any rate, one solution to the problem is to simply get the shoulder out of the way and project the head forward a little more. I attained the necessary bulk by humping up his back and featuring the belly a little more. The eye is not the farthest thing at the edge of the form, but at least it is in the clear. Note how the angle of the gun and the humped back help to project the look forward.
Different directors may find different ways of putting over a story point. There is no one “right” way — only logical, plausible and convincing ways. Any pose can be drawn a hundred ways and all of them be right. Right, that is, if it leads the viewer to the right conclusion, the story point.
One director working with several actors doing the same role would have to vary his directions and adapt them to each individual personality. But in each case his goal would be to sway the audience in the direction of the story. Likewise in drawing. Fifteen artists may be drawing the same pose, so there would likely be fifteen versions of the pose. However, each version must contain that one much needed common factor — communication — the communication of the story idea.
So as you draw, assume the role of director. Your drawings are the actors who are professionals and who are receptive, willing, responsive, adaptable, and even submissive to your expertise as a director. You are the one who reveals the true meaning of each action or pose. Without your presence and your special skill, the drawing could very easily end up just another drawing, just another, albeit well drawn, “map” of a figure.
Arouse your sense of the dramatic and resolve to weave a tale with each line you make. Let your drawings take new direction.
Here’s a drawing that needs no criticism.