98 Drawing on the Artist Within
It’s sometimes beneficial to assume the role of investigator, explorer, or researcher. That prompts you to ask questions such as “how does this affect me?,” “where has it gotten me?,” or “have I been given enough information to benefit from it or to draw any kind of personal conclusion?” There’s nothing wrong with this kind of attitude — it isn’t negative in any sense of the word. Especially in a pursuit like yours where drawing is your business, and you have to ferret out all the usable information you can from all possible sources.
One case in question was the lecture on the book Drawing on the Artist Within written by Betty Edwards. The necessarily limited time given it forced me to go back to the book to renew the impression I had gotten from it. I think the idea of having lectures, films, and a research library are a praiseworthy contribution the studio has offered the employees for their growth and progress. But I also feel that it is up to each person to glean from the material what they feel is needed for their personal improvement. I thought you might benefit from my reaction to the lecture. Much of the lecture had to do with using a kind of “automatic” drawing for problem solving. Since I’m not pre-occupied with solving my problems, I reread the book for what I am interested in, seeing and thinking more clearly in regard to drawing. The book is a “gold mine” for such things.
Inspiration loomed up on the title page that made me want to read on and to open doors of awareness: “An inspirational and practical guide to increase your creative powers.” Then, the very first sentence of the preface is a mood and attitude setter: “Writing this book has been a process of discovery.” I haven’t really gotten into the book yet and my mind is spinning with anticipation. It’s not that I am so interested in Betty Edwards having experienced a process of discovery; I want to experience the process of discovery myself. She goes on to say that, “direct perception,” a different kind of “seeing,” is an integral part of thinking and hence the creative process. The purpose of the book, she says, is: “The role the visual language plays in the creative process.” Also, learning to draw is not the end. “For in learning to draw, I believe you will learn how to see differently. And that, in turn, will enhance your powers of creative thought.”
Pretty heavy stuff!
One of the many visual conceptions of creativity that Betty Edwards found was this one by a French mathematician Henri Poincare.
It’s a graphic depiction of a very nebulous mental process called creativity. This creative process does not belong to artists alone. It applies to people in all walks of life — business people, mechanics, inventors, writers, musicians — you name it. For the purpose of drawing, there is an attempt to pin it down to make it more available. In the drawing class I try to get the students to look at the model for a few seconds of intense “seeing” to form a first impression of the essence of the pose, then strive to put that first impression down on paper. If the drawing starts to slip away (and this is important) go back to the first impression. Better still, hang on tenaciously to that first impression as you draw. Graphically it might look like this (after Poincare).
Here is a more flowing version of it, wherein the left section shows a search for, and forming of a first impression (saturation and incubation), the middle section is the formed impression (illumination), and the final section shows the illumination stage sustained throughout the drawing process (verification).
The research and discovery of the two major modes of the human brain by Roger Spery in the 1950s, which earned him a Nobel Prize for medicine, has led to a better understanding of the creative process. Betty Edwards bases most of her teaching on the activities of the right and left sides of the brain.
I was once tested on a feedback machine (electroencephalograph) to measure my alpha wave capabilities. When the alpha wave was attained the machine’s normal squawking sound (beta wave indication) soared into a high and pleasant bird-like tweet. I reached that desired state in seconds. The tester engaged me in conversation to see if that would cut the connection, but the tweet continued. He then had me count from 100 downward by 2s, but the tweet continued. He said that was quite amazing, and what did I think or feel was the reason or process that allowed me to think on an intellectual plane and still retain the relaxed state of alpha. I said it was as if I had two sides to the brain (this was before we had heard of Betty Edwards) with one side of the brain I could think and talk while with the other side I could remain in a meditative state.
Since then I have experimented with a sort of dialing in and out of the left and right modes to different degrees of intensity. In knowing for instance, a certain amount of L mode activity, that is, intellectual maneuvering and use of detail is needed in drawing, along side an interpretive, storytelling, and emotional R mode involvement, it is up to me to generate a compatible blend of the two. It’s not magic. It’s just that once you have summed up all the information into a first impression (R mode); you have to enlist the help of the L mode to manipulate the pencil in the physical process of drawing (making communicable marks on a piece of paper). If the L mode starts to isolate parts or details and tries to take over to verify its knowledge of “things,” you simply have to dial it down a bit and dial up the R mode, which is patiently holding on to that first impression and is eager to communicate it through the drawing process. If, on the other hand, the drawing becomes a mess of scribbled lines, though expressive (R mode loves this), then the L mode has to be dialed up to reestablish a touch of realism.
“Mode dialing” can also work for you when you are tired and need a pick up. Turn up the R mode to full capacity for just a few seconds and the alpha state will have the effect of a battery charge. I don’t think Betty Edwards gets into this use of the brain waves, but a little additional research may prove interesting and/or helpful for you.
Well, all that, and I haven’t gotten beyond the first chapter of Drawing on the Artist Within. Maybe I’ll get on to the next chapter some time in the future — if you’re interested.
I’d like to close with a little anecdote. When someone in the class is making a very expressive drawing, I like to grab it from them at its peak stage (before it gets bogged down with detail) and show it to the rest of the class. It opens up possibilities, stirs up the “juices,” and charges the air with a sense of creativity — a “something is happening here” thing.
A couple of weeks ago I grabbed a drawing from James Fujii and a visiting artist next to him said, “He doesn’t even let the guy finish his drawing.” I said to him, “The point is not to finish the drawing, the point is to get the idea.” And James had gotten the idea.
