Before I start, I should point out that this isn’t going to be a ‘how-to’ post on working sight size.
For that, seethe step-by-step walk-through of a Bargue copy done sight size and also have a read ofsight-size.com.
This is more a discussion of the advantages and disadvantages of sight size as I see them, replete with my usual meandering and wandering off the point. This is also a rather long post since I’ve used it as an opportunity to think a few things through for my own benefit.
Hopefully it will be interesting and/or relevant to you too.
For some time now I’ve been planning and roughing out this post. Part of the reason for the delay in me posting it is that I couldn’t reach a tidy conclusion on whether I think the advantages outweigh the disadvantages, or vice-versa. So in the end, my conclusion has had to remain somewhat open-ended.
It’s more fitting like this in any case. After all, one of the things that makes painting so interesting is that it’s a life-long learning process. There is no real conclusion, we just run out of time eventually to do any more.
What follows below represents my current thoughts on the subject. In an evolving process, nothing should be taken as absoluteI think, everything should be subject to ongoing questioning and assessment. But the time and effort needs to be spent to investigate something fairly thoroughly before any opinions, even the most tentative ones, can be reached.
Learning to paint is hard work. It requires a complex set of skills just to be able to produce a convincing translation of what we see onto a two-dimensional surface, and that’s just first base. We’re much more than a just a pair of eyes and I’m sure most people would agree that our hearts and minds play just as important a role in producing meaningful work as the mechanics of our visual receiving equipment do.
I sometimes think of learning to paint as being like blindly fumbling our way forward in a darkened room. We might decide that our goal is to get to the other side of the room, but we don’t know what we’re going to encounter on the way, what obstacles we’re going to meet and we can’t see the way forward clearly. So we just bravely set out with a vague idea of the direction we want to go in, putting one foot in front of the other and hoping for the best. I think we naturally find the known comfortable and reassuring, and the unknown unsettling.
Having spent a fair bit of time chatting to other painters on art forums, I’ve noticed that artists often tend towards a kind of brand loyalty for their chosen methods and styles. Personally, I think that it’s a natural reaction to the insecurity that’s intrinsic to the nature of our pursuit.
We don’t always know where we’re headed, and that’s scary.
When someone comes along with a plan, a sure fire way to get to the other side of the room without stumbling into things, it tends to provoke reactions that fall broadly into two types: Willing acceptance, sometimes to the point of unquestioning belief, or suspicious resistance, sometimes to the point of trenchant opposition.
I think neither are entirely healthy, but both are understandable. I’m sure I’ve been guilty of both myself. I’ve personally been witness to some quite violent disagreements on art forums, and if the history books are to be believed, it’s nothing new among painters.
But what I rarely see, to be honest, is people spending sufficient time and effort to understand something that’s new to them in enough depth to make any kind of a reasoned decision on whether or not it’s right for them, whether there are some elements that might help them or some that might hinder.
When I first started working with the sight size method as it’s taught in the modern ateliers, I found it pretty hard. Not having a teacher to show me how to do it, and learning from books and resources on the web, I was convinced that I was doing it wrong somehow. I kept thinking that it shouldn’t be this hard. But because I’d seen examples of work done this way, cast drawings and Bargue copies, that impressed the living hell out of me, I kept at it.
Now I know a little more about it and have had some practice with it I know that like many things in painting land, the basic concept is fairly simple, and I was obsessing and worrying unnecessarily over details.
I sometimes get emails from people asking me about the same details that I used to obsess over. What I want to say to the people that ask me for advice is, “Don’t worry about it, don’t worry about what kind of paper to use, or whether you have to use charcoal or pencil, whether it has to be a Bargue drawing you copy. Just make a start and you’ll figure it out for yourself.”
I don’t usually though, I try to answer their questions as far as I’m able.
But the details really don’t matter. Primarily, I see sight size as away to train observational skills. Whenever I’ve had a question of my own that I couldn’t find the answer to, I’ve tried to keep this in mind, and to ask myself whether doing it this way or that is likely to be more or less helpful in terms of training my observation, or whether it really doesn’t matter at all.
Usually, it doesn’t matter at all. You can do it with a magic marker if you like. If your observation gets better, then it was worth doing.
It seems we naturally want a plan to follow. We want to make sure that we do things the “right way.” I’ve also had emails from people that tell me I’m doing it wrong, that they were taught the “right way.” These people rarely tell me why their way is the right way, or ask me what I think might be good about the way I do it. I think they want to convince me in order to satisfy themselves that the way they were taught was the right one.
I’m not criticising them and I can’t blame them for it, but I think that taking any entrenched position like that is potentially harmful.
I think that we have to accept a certain amount of uncertainty, because it’s in the nature of what we do. Entrenched or blindly accepted ideas lead to stagnation, and possibly to missing out on something which could be useful to us. Of course, it’s easier said than done and I’m certainly no paragon of virtue in that regard. But I sometimes wish that people could be a little more open minded, a little more willing to question even their most fondly held beliefs.
The only effective method I know for finding out whether something will be useful to me or not is to try it out, to give it a lot of time and to reserve judgement until I have. That’s what I’ve tried to do with working sight size. It was tough at first, and although I find it considerably easier now I have to say it still doesn’t come naturally.
As I spend hour after hour with my arms stretched out holding the thread, trying to ignore how much they ache and keep them from wobbling, striving for accuracy in the placement of the marks I make, I find myself obliged to question the reasons for putting myself through this ordeal.
What follows is my personal take on the technique at this (I suppose still fairly early) stage of my employment of it.
How I Use Sight Size
See the link at the beginning of this post for a more in depth description, but I’ll give a quick run-down of it here, as I apply it in practice. The Bargue book has been my primary source for this.
Firstly, I spend a long time carefully positioning the easel next to the subject. If it’s a drawing that I’m copying, this part is much simpler of course, just tape them up side by side and make sure the easel is flat on to you, not at an angle since that will distort themeasurements.
Then I mark a central, vertical construction line down the middle of the paper, and hang a corresponding plumb-line in front of thesubject. With this in place, I take the thread used for measuring, stand (or occasionally sit) about sixfeet back from the easel and mark the main points – highest, lowest, furthest left, furthest right. I work entirely with one eye closed whenmeasuring. I do my best to make sure that these initial points are as accurate as possible, triangulating between them, checking andre-checking. Mostly I use vertical and horizontal measurements – theHarold Speedscaffolding approach.
Joining these first few points with straight lines gives a simplified envelope of the shape. The next stage is to mark in more points,refining the envelope down into it’s constituent smaller shapes. This process continues until an accurate line drawing of the subject isestablished, finding points, relating them to the first four points, and triangulating. At a given stage, the distances between points becometoo small to accurately measure with the thread. My margin for error is perhaps about an 8th of an inch, so once I get down to distancesof two inches or less I start to judge increasingly by eye.
Why Sight Size?
As I’ve said, sight size to me is primarily a method of honing my observation skills. The one-to-one relationship between the drawing andthe subject allows for instant comparisons to be made visually, much more easily than with other drawing approaches. Flicking your eye from oneto the other makes mistakes immediately obvious, it isn’t necessary to go through the memorising stage that a more free approach to drawingrequires, at least not whilst checking the accuracy of the drawing.
In his excellent discussion of the history of the sight size approach, Nicholas Beer ofthe Sarum Studio in Salisbury relates how the technique may have been used by previous generations of representational painters.As far as I can gather, these days the primary focus on the technique as it’s taught in ateliers is an almost obsessive concern with accuracy.The term ‘absolute accuracy’ is one I’ve seen bandied about, although I find it slightly ridiculous since a drawing will never be, cannever be, absolutely accurate.
However, I tend to follow that approach. I’ve found that striving for accuracy in at least some exercises has trained myobservational skills like nothing else. I would highly recommend it, particularly in the early stages of learning to draw. I’ve found amarked improvement in the accuracy of other drawings after sight sizing, it’s like a musician practicing scales. But I don’t believe thatthe pursuit of accuracy is the only reason to use it, or the only way it can be used. It also makes it considerably easier to concentrateon the ‘big picture’ and to keep from getting caught up in details to the detriment of the overall impact of the drawing or painting. Ithink this is a common problem, certainly one I’ve fallen foul of many times myself.
I was recently discussing sight size over email with a staunch advocate, Darren Rousar, a painter who comes from thetradition of R. H. Ives Gammell,Richard Lack and theBoston School and incidentally runs the sight-size.com website. He talked about how the technique helps to avoid what Gammell called ‘piecemeal seeing,’ and helps to create a unity of impression.Certainly, my own limited experience bears this out too.
These are the two most notable traits of work done with this technique: Accuracy of shape and unity of the optical or visual effect. Sightsize work is often fairly broadly done and concentrates on the large forms in preference to small detail. Think Sargent, Raeburn andVelazquez, not Van Eyck.
The following – probably incomplete – list is, I think, a fair assessment of the strengths and possible pitfalls of sight size.
Advantages
Observation training:
I would say that this is the strongest argument for practicing drawing using the sight size approach. When I used to do a lot of drawingof the peopleat my local cafe, I used to notice a marked improvement in the drawings if I’d been doing some sight size practice the night before. Justlike when I’m playing the fiddle, I play better if I spend some time warming up doing scales first. It’s not just a motor reflex thingI don’t think. And like learning to play an instrument, the skill of observation is cumulative and responds to regular and repeated practice.
It’s tempting to think that because we can see something clearly enough, we should be able to judge its shape with a fairdegree of accuracy. But if that were true, we’d all be able to draw accurately without any problems, and that plainly isn’t the case.There’s obviously something much more complex than just seeing involved in drawing. I have a feeling it may be something to do with thestrong propensity we have to see things symbolically in our mind’s eye, to draw like a child draws.Ted Seth Jacobs talks about this at somelength in his book,Drawing With an Open Mind.If we’re drawing an eye, we tend to think “eye, almond shape with a round bit in themiddle,” and then draw that. It will often bear little or no resemblance to what we’re seeing, especially if we’re looking at it from anyangle other than straight on. Even if we’re trying hard to draw the eye as we see it, that mental image seems somehow to intrude and force thedrawing out of shape.
So perhaps the word ‘observation’ is an insufficiently descriptive word for the complex process of translating something from the realworld onto a two dimensional surface. Still, it’s the one we all use. If we do a drawing that hasn’t turned outwell, that doesn’t accurately represent the shapes we see, we can tell immediately. I wonder if what we call observation, or what’s oftenreferred to as the process of ‘learning to see’ isn’t much more a process of learning not to draw an internalised mental symbolof something, and to draw what it really looks like instead, a process of unlearning as much as learning. Whatever it is, however itworks, sight size can help us get it.
Accuracy:
How necessary is it to be accurate? To some people it’s not necessary at all, and I wouldn’t argue the point with them if that’s not whatthey want. But I would argue that whatever your style, beingcapable of producing a decent level of accuracy can only be a good thing, since you’ll know then when you’ve deviated from what you see andwill be more likely to be thinking about why. Is it for a particular affect, for expression, or just a mistake? Does it help the pieceand make it better or is it just laziness? Also, see comments above regarding observation training. It’s this pursuit of accuracy that’sprimarily responsible for building the mental muscles required for close observation. Developing those muscles can only be helpful I think,whether we choose to use them to their fullest extent or not.
Lately, as my accuracy has improved, I’ve noticed an odd effect. Something happens to the believability of the form when the accuracy isclose, even in a simple line drawing with no modelling of light and shade. An accurate drawing of form seems to take on more life, a moreconvincing three dimensionality. It’s a hard thing to explain, but a drawing can seem to go from being just an average drawing one minute tohaving life and depth the next, just through virtue of greater accuracy. It’s something deeper than it just looking ‘right,’ but I can’tsay much more about it at this stage because I don’t pretend to understand it. But it’s a noticeable effect.
Training of Visual Memory
Sight size separates looking and doing. I haven’t seen this talked about in relation to sight size, but I do believe that it canhelp visual memory training if approached with this in mind. Judging accuracy is instantaneous when working sight size. But the processof actually making the marks is more delayed with this approach, simply because you have to physically walk over to the easel to makethe mark. In order to do that, you need to fix you’re eye on the paper and hold it there until you get close enough to draw it.That I find quite difficult. If it’s a line or a part of a shape I’m about to put down and not simply a point, I’ve got into the habitof mentally rehearsing the mark, visualising it on the paper before I walk over to put it down. Quite often I catch myself waving my hand around infront of me as if I was actually drawing from six feet back. Just as well no-one’s watching me work, it must look very odd. But it reallyhelps. It helps to fix the shape, line, whatever it is, in my mind long enough for me to get over to the easel and draw it for real. I keepthinking I should try and come up with some form of exercise to stretch this ability of visualisation more. I’m sure it would be ofenormous help in other kinds of less strictly controlled drawing.
Unity of effect
I’ve talked about this already in relation to Darren Rousar’s comments and the Gammell approach. The majority of my own practicewith sight size has been copying other people’s drawings, so I can’t add much here. But the iron painting and the studies for it have beendone entirely this way, and it’s been enough to convince me that there’s something in this. Any further thoughts on this willhave to wait until I’ve done more of it.
Slowing Down
This one I can talk about. Sight size and the pursuit of accuracy taught me not to rush. It taught me to spend much more timelooking than drawing, and to spend that time looking more closely and more patiently. It also taught me that it doesn’t matter how manytimes you have to correct something as long as it’s getting better and not worse, and that just about every mark I make with a pencil,charcoal stick or a brush needs correcting and can be made better in one way or another.
I wonder if there’s something about our modern lives that makes it difficult for us to slow down and work patiently. Most of the problemsI see in beginners’ work (although I still consider myself one) is due to rushing I think. I live near London, and it always strikes mewhen I go into town what a desperate rush everyone seems to be in. Painting, at least thekind of painting I do, is partly about taking the time to experience things which we otherwise might not think worthy of spending much time on.The way light falls on some small object, the pattern that the shadows make, how beautiful a flower is or even some piece of old tatlike this iron. I try to evoke a sense of peace and stillness in my work not because of some intellectualised,rationalised decision that that’s what my work will be about, but simply because I feel the need of it in my daily life.
I think that even loose, brushy work should be the result of careful deliberation, perhaps even more so than precise detail because itcan so easily go wrong. A lot of peopleare very taken with painters like Sargent and Zorn, me included, but when they try to emulate them I get the feeling that they’ve attacked thecanvas in some kind of desperate frenzy, since they think that this is how work like that is created. The modern myth of the inspired artist at thewhim of his or her genius tempts us to believe that we should all be painting like Kirk Douglas playing Van Gogh, dashing at the canvas as ifwe were possessed.
The truth is much more prosaic I think. Personally, I do have the odd fevered moment of intense activity, but I get my best results from slow,steady application. It needn’t make the work stilted and unemotional, in fact I think the opposite is the case. Sight size taught me toconsider every mark I put down, and I think my work has improved in direct proportion to the amount of care I take over it. Obvious, really.But it’s a lesson that took to me some time to learn.
Disadvantages
Restricted viewpoint:
Perhaps the most obvious drawback of the sight size technique is that it can only be used in very controlled situations. It limits theviewpoint taken on the subject since the easel must be flat on, not angled, and also limits the size of the subject to some degree. It’suseless for landscape, for example, unless you only want to paint a very small portion of what you see.
I’ve never done work from a model sight size, but I do wonder how it works out in practice. I have seen examples of it, where workis done over many sessions with a model. The likelihood of the model getting back into exactly the same position every time is slim tononexistent. I wonder how that problem is dealt with. I suspect that surely, some degree of accuracy must be sacrificed.
Possible Loss of expression:
Which brings me to another point. Good painting and drawing is not just about accuracy I don’t think. In figurative work from a model, for example,people often talk about the ‘gesture’ of the pose, and there’s a tradition of trying to capture this gesture in order to givethe drawing life. It seems to me that the practice of sight size would tend to work against that.
I also wonder if an over reliance on exactness could eventually kill off the capability for expressive work in the artist. I’m sure manypeople would argue this point, particularly perhaps the new breed of classicists, but I do think that given our natural propensity forcomfortable, known approaches and methods, an over reliance on sight size and accuracy could close the doors on the possibility of admittingsome expression into the work.
Too Much Reliance on the Process:
It’s worth noting I think that even proponents of the sight size technique recognise that it has it’s limitations, and even dangers ifit’s relied upon too much. Peter Bougie and Gerald Ackerman talk about this in an appendix of the Bargue book, and I think what they haveto say is worth quoting here since they have much more experience than me with it, and have also taught it:
Gerald Ackerman:
“Using sight size as the only way of drawing might make practitioners model-bound and interfere with their depiction of objectsfrom memory. Since models are incapable of holding dynamic poses for more than a few minutes, it may delay learning the elements that givemotion to a drawing. In addition to increasing a student’s dependence upon the model, it also creates a dependence upon ideal conditions -typically those encountered in a studio – such as a controlled light source, an uncluttered and neutral background, and a model trained tohold long poses on a raised platform.”
Peter Bougie:
“Sight size is very useful in many ways but it has it’s limitations. It’s a good teaching tool and we insist that everyone useit because it sharpens the beginner’s eye for proportion relatively quickly and provides an objective context in which to work…I’ve alsonoticed that for some students who are naïve (in their drawing experience) or of a strong logical mindset, sight size gets in the way of seeingwhen they reach a certain point in their development. They will use the plumb line too much and their eye not enough.”
There you have it. My own feeling is that being able to replicate fairly closely what you see is almost intoxicating. Perhaps thatintoxication could actually become an impediment to relating a more personal relationship with the object, forgetting that painting can alsobe more than accuracy and can be an appeal to the emotions of the viewer.
The Antidote
The most obvious antidote must be, of course, not to do too much of it, and certainly not to use sight size exclusively. Here’s a few morequotes that are relevant here:
Gerald Ackerman (I particularly like this one – emphasis is mine):
“I am not against other methods nor a partisan of any (although I do naturally prefer and understand best what I was taught,but must protect myself from being dogmatic about it); I think that different methods of drawing from life should just be calledmethods, none the ‘one way,’ and that the principles should be recognised as part of the method that organises work and observation, notabsolutes. The payoff will always be the results.”
Peter Bougie:
“I’m going to try having students do more work from flat copy of expressive figures, figures in motion, and so on, to tryto bridge the gap between the study of nature and its application to making pictures. In doing that, I’m going to compare the two and tryto show people how they differ. The trick will be to keep them on track with both the observation and the learning about conventionwithout having the limitations of each method pollute the other, that is, become short cuts, excuses, or mannerisms in the hands of theinexperienced.”
I’ll wrap up with a couple of quotes from Harold Speed, from ‘The Practice and Science of Drawing‘. The language is datedbecause the book was written in the early 1900s, but Speed is, to me, a great sourceof both knowledge and common sense, a man who understood that art can be much more than a collection of techniques and methods. Some of hiscomments on academic exercises are not dissimilar from those of Gerald Ackerman and Peter Bougie above, but he also has time for the importanceof expression and inspiration.
“The best things in an artist’s work are so much a matter of intuition, that there is much to be said for the point of viewthat would altogether discourage intellectual enquiry into artistic phenomena on the part of the artist. Intuitions are shy things that areapt to disappear if looked into too closely. And there is undoubtedly a danger that too much knowledge and training may supplant thenatural intuitive feeling of a student, leaving only a cold knowledge of the means of expression in it’s place.”
Although I agree with old Harold here, I can’t help wondering if he might feel the need to clarify that statement somewhat if he werewitness to some of the more recent developments in the visual arts. But I think he was reacting to a problem he saw in the recent past of the artinstruction of his own day.
I have a suspicion that something might be being missed by the modern ateliers that advocate a wholesale return to 19th century academism withtheir constant drilling in accuracy and technique; That individuality and expression might possibly be stunted if they’re not allowed todevelop naturally alongside the more careful and stringent academic study, and that some of the new breed of classicists, the ratherannoyingly dubbed ‘Classical Realists,’ might just be missing an integral part of what made their idols so great. Not all of them Ihasten to add, just the toga brigade that would like to turn the clock back and pretend that modernism never happened and that it isutterly without merit, and can’t see that it was a natural reaction to the restrictions, hierarchies and exclusivity of 19thcentury academism.
However, Harold certainly doesn’t dismiss the value of careful academic study himself:
“Provided the student realises…that art training can only deal with the perfecting of a means of expression and that thereal matter of art lies above this and beyond the scope of teaching, he can not have too much of it. For although he must ever be a child beforethe influences that move him, if it is not with the knowledge of the grown man that he takes off his coat and approaches the craft of paintingor drawing, he will be poorly equipped to make them a means of conveying to others in adequate form the things he may wish to express.”
I’m inclined to agree. It seems to me that the possible pitfalls of the sight size technique can be fairly well summed up by saying that it’sa means to end, not an end in itself, and shouldn’t be taken as one. I’m convinced that it has many benefits, but that the best way to makethe most of them is to ensure that different, less structured forms of practice are pursued at the same time.
I need to getout of the studio now and back to the cafe to draw!
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Given it’s length, I’ve just skim read it to get a sense of content and will be coming back to read it in detail when I have a bit more time.
However one comment I would make is that sight size is not a technique which is only used in the studio. People who draw or paint plein air use it all the time – one just has to adapt to make it work.
Which then made me wonder whether what you’re actually talking about is the subset called cast drawing rather than sight size per se. Reading some of the references it seems the approach started with nature and then progressed into the studio.
I’d love to see how you progress with your drawing if you go outside and sight size and draw landscapes plein air.
Hey Paul,
I really think you put forth a great discussion about the pros and cons of sight size. A lot of people get so caught up with the process of sight size that they lose perspective on what they’re really trying to do: to express their vision on a 2 dimensional surface.
If you just think of sight size as a training tool to teach you greater accuracy and finess in seeing, then you are less apt to become a slave to the methodology. However, some people get overly dependent on sight size and end up unwilling to try other methods of producing work.
We actually only train in sight size extensively in our first year at school. After that we usually use comparative methods. This is because in reality, how often will you get the chance to draw in sight size? Who has the time to set up a plumb line for everthing?
So yes, I think you are very wise in viewing sight size as a means to an end, not the grand solution to all art making.
BTW your latest works have been wonderful. Keep up the good work 😀
Hi Katherine,
I’ve a feeling that we must be using the term to describe different procedures. Using sight size as I understand it in the landscape would, I think, result in a picture of only a very small section of the view – a section as wide and as high as the support being painted on, viewed from a position a few feet back from the easel.
I’d be very interested to hear more about how you use it outdoors, if you have the time, I’d be happy to be proved wrong and to learn something new in the process.
Regarding the history of the technique, reading Nicholas Beer’s discussion of the technique on sight-size.com, linked in the post above, might clarify what’s different about our respective understanding of the definition of the term too. I’d also be very interested to see any historical references that talk about sight size being used for painting en plein air first – or at all in fact. Are they on the web and do have links for them? Please feel free to post them here if they are, normal html format links work in the comments here.
Yes, sight size is used in cast drawing at the modern ateliers, but it’s not the only way to do them by any means, so I wouldn’t describe cast drawing as a sub-set of sight size. Harold Speed has a great description of a method for cast drawing (with paint) but doesn’t mention sight size. Although I think that at least here, we’ll be talking about the same method. As far as I’m aware, it was first used in portraiture. Sargent and Raeburn were known practitioners, the references are quoted in Nicholas Beer’s essay. Personally, I use it for cast drawings but also for copying drawings and still life.
Landscape isn’t on my agenda at the moment I’m afraid. I do get the odd yen to return to it though so you never know 🙂
Thanks Jen. That’s interesting that you only do sight size for the first year. Maybe I’ve been a little unfair to the ateliers and will have to revise my opinions – it wouldn’t be the first time, that’s for sure 🙂 But the unwillingness to try other methods is exactly what I’m talking about above. I guess we all do it to an extent, but becoming dependent on a particular method, especially one as restrictive as sight size, is a worrying thought.
Where are you studying? You might have told me before and I’ve forgotten, apologies if that’s the case.
Phew – Paul, this must be a great post because I read it right to the end, despite being one of those painfully impatient, scurrying Londoners that you mention 🙂
You say “I wonder if there’s something about our modern lives that makes it difficult for us to slow down and work patiently.” and I say lord, yes! I seem to find it unbearably difficult to slow down and work patiently these days, yet I know that this calm attention to detail is something I would benefit from enormously. The way you describe sight size, I think it sounds a little like the art equivalent of going to the gym (shudder!). Difficult to get going with and highly disciplined, but with obvious rewards once you have put the effort in.
You, more than any other writer on the subject, have inspired me to try out sight size, even though I know it will kill me! Generally, I find that you make a very well balanced case for the use of time-honoured techniques… to learn them and use them as part of your overall bag of tricks, rather than letting one technique or school of thought become the be all and end all of your work.
In addition, I think that your recent work has certainly hit the wow factor, and if accuracy training has helped with this, then good on you, you deserve to reap the rewards.
I received a copy of Harold Speed’s Science & Practice of Drawing for my birthday this year, and am now feeling inspired to read it. Every time I hear a quote from Speed, I feel like he has hit the nail on the head.
Thanks for such an interesting post!
Hi Paul,
I read the all thing start to finish, and obviously found that you have an innate talent for explaining inner tougts. Learned a lot in the process of why we draw the way we do, and why everyone caracter is expressed in his drawing. I think that is what makes art Beautiful and wortwhile. I am mainly a lanscape painter, in plain air and I use an 8×10 carboard with appropiate size hole with un horizontal and one vertical line to sight my landscape. In each quadrant i try to have the right proportion of things. Easily said than done.(advantage very quick) Drawing seems to have helped this process, and the capacity for observation, and i found that when I am pleased with my burnt sienna imprimatura on a transparent red ground, i generally get a good oil. I always now use a limited palette, and i am still learning to mix colors. I will send you an email with the oils done on last month painting vacation to give you an idea where i am at. Mainly in the middle of a dark room like you so eloquently said.
Paul, I do engoy your paintings very much and i appreciate the time you take to share your toughts on arts and tribulations thereof…..Best wishes
Mariano
Hi Sue, I’m glad at least someone made it to the end. I just broke all the rules of web copy with that post 🙂
Trying out site size needn’t be a great undertaking I don’t think. I messed with it a few times before I started going for accuracy of drawing, and it can be as much about the overall effect as about accuracy I think. maybe you could try it out with something simple, a small object, and do it fairly roughly. It would be enough to give you an insight into how it works, what it can give you, and whether you want to go any further with it.
I think this was the first time I tried it out on a ‘live’ object, back in May 2006 when I’d only been going for a few months. The set up was a bit rough and ready, but it worked alright. I think that was when I first started getting intrigued by the approach.
As for slowing down, I find it difficult too. But I think you can get into a kind of meditative state after a while, and it becomes more natural with time. Lately, I must admit I find it harder to work quickly.
BTW, I think you’ll love that Speed book. The painting one is great too, I’m forever re-reading sections of them.
Hi Mariano, nice to hear from you.
Wow, TWO people read it all!. That’s it then, I’m writing a whole book for the next one. From what you’ve said here I think you might find the Ted Seth Jacobs book interesting. It’s not really a how-to-book, more of a book of the philosophy of drawing. I didn’t get on with it all that well at first because it wasn’t what I expected, but I’m appreciating it a lot more now.
A viewfinder is a very useful tool I think, particularly for planning compositions. Loomis recommends it too, I still use one often, even for little still lifes.
Hey Paul, Your post reminded me of when I was teaching a couple of volunteer classes at our local elementary school. The children that had a little instruction would refuse to do the exercises I would assign them, saying I was wrong because that wasn’t the way their mother or another teacher showed them. I finally had to tell them that they could draw any way they wanted at home, but in my class they had to do it my way. Then all I asked was for them to choose for themselves what was best for them. That is what I get from your writings, great suggestions on how to discipline our minds to do what we crave, in our own way. A beloved cousin of mine died a couple of weeks ago and was home alone because she didn’t want family coming to see her that didn’t have the same religion as she. It was as though just the thought of something different would change her mind and somehow pollute her faith. I thought then, wouldn’t it be the great cosmic joke on all of us if, when we die, we are only in heaven with people that believe exactly like us? What a lonely place that would be! What if, when we get to heaven, we only get to have art the way we think it should be painted? What a very boring place that would be! Thank You, Paul for enriching my life with your art and writings at a time when I had almost forgotten what I am….an ARTIST!
Hi Paul-
Great post, count me in as another who read from beginning to end!
What an amazing time to be alive as an artist, I feel so fortunate to have so many resources to better my craft be it more classical approaches such as the Bargue course, Carder method, Graydon’s Munsell breakthroughs or more imaginative / gestural such as the Structure of Man, Loomis, Vilppu, Schmid etc I don’t discriminate when it comes to diverse means of rounding out and expanding my thinking and skill set.
Another great post Paul, I too read it all the way. I wonder if you realise how many of us hold our breath when you don’t post for a few days, thinking, where’s he gone? Will he be back? !! Something that has been exercising me greatly is the difference between what I see with my glasses and what I see without them. At the canvas I look through them to place a mark or brush stroke but from six feet away I look over them. I wonder how many other artists have this problem and how they deal with it. Thanks again and please keep the posts coming – the longer the better for me.
Hi Helen,
I’m sorry to hear about your cousin. The comment you made about the children you taught is interesting, I wonder of these mental habits get ingrained in us quite young. If that’s the case, then part of our job must be to try to replace them with better ones.
Robert Genn at Painters Keys often talks about the necessity of forming effective habits, and personally I’ve found it an good way to approach things too. I think that goes for mental habits as much as for things like regular practice.
Hi Jeff,
Thanks, I’m glad you liked the post (and even more glad that you read it all :))
I agree, this is a very interesting time to be painting. Now that representational painting is returning, we’re in a position where we can learn from both the long history of the craft and the experiments of modernism, if we care to.
I also think that we should count ourselves very lucky that we have the web now. Of course, you can’t believe everything you read, but there’s a wealth of information out there that previous generations of painters never had access to. It’s unprecedented, really. The sheer volume of information available does make it even more important that we develop effective methods of sifting what’s useful to us from what isn’t though I think. For myself, I doubt I could have got this far teaching myself without it.
I think you have a very healthy attitude, and I try to approach things the same way. Of course, I have my own prejudices too, one example being against working from photos. But if I’m to take my own advice, I must accept that there may be some benefits to it as well as what I personally see as the very real dangers, and try to keep an open mind on it. And I have to admit that I’ve seen some very beautiful work done from photos. We all have our pet prejudices I think, but recognising them for what they are isn’t easy.
Thanks Nick, that makes four 🙂
I’m sorry I don’t post more regularly but these posts take me a while to write and I have to find time to paint! But rest assured, I’m not planning to disappear again any time soon.
I’ve seen that problem with glasses mentioned before on forums. As far as I can remember, I think most people do what you do. Bifocals were mentioned as well. If anyone has a comment that might Nick here, please chime in. I take it you’re long-sighted Nick?
I read every word as soon as I got your post! I always do cause you’re one of the few who tell it like it is, in language we can all understand!
Your work/words remind me that I’m not alone trying to figure this stuff out. Your words voice what many of us think about or question but can’t describe quite as accurately as you, Paul.
I also have the eyesite problem that Nick brought up. Right now, I have strong ‘readers’ to see the painting and weak ‘readers – 125- to see the set up. But is a pain to keep switching glasses. Bifocals would help, I suppose – but that’s more time/$ for eye doctor appt etc., etc., when these readers can be had for $10 at the drug store. I often have both pair on – one perched low on my nose,and one on my forehead – quite comical!
With that said, I must admit that problem being why my monitor/with photos of my set up has been so helpful. I agree that in a perfect world, I’d only paint from life, but when I need to see, I’d rather see, than guess. To copy a photo is not the point- I must still know the basics of how a painting works – perspective,edges, values, drawing etc. etc. and also make decisions on my intention for the painting. It’s impossible to get all that information into a photo and of course monitors are not as accurate as we’d like. (One good thing about painting from life and aging eyesight is the edges stay nice and blurry so I don’t make them too hard!
The eyesight problem is the biggest reason that site-size and standing back so far has been difficult for me to follow-through on. (That and a tiny studio.) The Bargue plates have been much easier – since they are side by side on my easel and I only have to use one pair of glasses!
Sorry for my long response, though I always read yours – cause I usually learn something else! But this time, no need to write in response to this…go paint!
I would have loved to meet Harold Speed, because he seemed like such a man of integrity. I loved both books and still re-read them in bits every so often. The quote about intuitions in drawing I like very much. I feel a lot of drawing is based on intuition. I can see the differences already in the way you work and the way I work, what you look to emphasize and what I look to emphasize. I am very much an advocate for form. And I like to look for beautiful linework in compositions. Whereas you are very much an admirer of values. And you create beautiful harmonies of tone and value. This is what I need to learn to be patient to explore (and why I visit this blog).
Perhaps this is due to the nature of what I like to draw and paint…portraits and the human nude. I think in circumstances where there are many lightsources, unlike the set-up atelier studio, the artist needs to be able to create their own dominant light source in their minds. Once you know a form and the nature of light, it is quite possible. To draw or paint the human figure one definately needs to have some background in artistic anatomy, to understand its form, what it comprises of, bones, muscles, joints… and how they affect posture and movement. Values on their own are of no avail. Great artists can create their own light in their minds, as Robert Beverly Hale once said. When they sketch the human figure, they don’t draw the edges they see, but the edges of plane breaks which they know of. But this is no argument against methodology. Only surely drawing and painting is more than eyesight? Intuition means feeling you know something you can’t see. I rely a lot on intuition in everyday life and I find I’m always better off with it. That sounds very superstitious but I can assure you I’m not!
Anyway have you read any of Ruskin’s writings, Paul? He once wrote, I think it may have been in the Elements of drawing that the artist needn’t pretend he’s in a hurry when he’s not. It’s like the whole argument about people trying to emulate a style. If its not you it won’t work. It will just look false. I have tried different paces of drawing. But I find I draw and paint very quickly. I don’t feel I rush myself…it’s just the pace I think at. Maybe I’m just neurotic! Well I suppose the discussion about the figure was entirely beside the point.
But the topic of accuracy can be a great pitfall I think. Assuming we all have an understanding of the way nature works in objects and our visual and manual skills are good enough to render things as we know them, accuracy can be a tricky thing to tackle.
Beverly Hale said: ‘Perhaps it can now be seen that in essence, the experienced artist sets his own conditions and adapts himself to them. He is by no means forced to accept conditions that are inimical to his purpose. He is in full control at all times because he himself creates the questions and in doing so he may frame them to his answer. What is the shape of the form? The shape he wishes. What are the proportions of a form? Those he thinks fitting. What is the direction of the form? The direction he decides upon. Have I made it clear that drawing is not a mere act of copying, but a highly creative act controlled by the artist’s expressive intent?’
John Ruskin said something on similar lines ‘On the contrary [‘to the common sketcher…who puts his leaves on trees as though they were moss tied to sticks; he cannot see the lines of action of growth…] it is the main delight of the great draughtsman to trace these laws of government; and his tendency to error is always in the exaggeration of their authority rather than in its denial.’
And David Bomberg said the eye was a stupid organ itself…although he wasn’t such a great painter himself!
Well I’ve just realized how much I’ve talked on and on. So I’m sorry, but it was really your fault with all those good points to pick up on in your lengthy post! I do regret this…but I’m just going to go on and press ‘post’ anyway!
All the best!
Excellent post.
I did not learn this way myself.
However accuracy was stressed and knowing how to measure was of the up most importance.
I have tried a few site sized drawings and paintings, and I do agree that this is the best method to learn how to train one’s ability to gage proportional relationships and values.
I think one should do both, practice site size and then draw or paint however you want to after a while.
If you paint landscapes as I do it’s not particle, but the ideas of measuring and understanding how to be accurate is extremely helpful.
Hello again Paul,
I’m interested in experimenting grisaille technique and in some of your earlier post you mentioned a book by Munsell.
Is there a specific book on colour by Munsell that would help with this are of colour theory.
Sean
Sorry to be so late with my replies to the last few comments.
Maria, you’re absolutely right, I’m pretty much obsessed with values, certainly in paintings and with the black and white chalk drawings too. It may well be a good idea for me to return so some line work just so I don’t forget how powerful it can be.
I wonder if there’s any mileage in the notion that value-based work is more optical based, and line drawing more conceptual. I certainly think line alone can be very expressive. Look at Egon Schiele, or Botticelli for that matter.
I’m not sure I’d agree that values alone are no use when drawing or painting the figure though. I see your point, and wouldn’t disagree for a moment that anatomy etc can be very important. But I could imagine a kind of work in which a given artist wasn’t concerned with it. I think it all depends on what your goals are. One person’s approach may be the right one for them, but we all have different concerns and interests. I don’t believe for a moment that there’s one single standard that even figure drawing can be held to. If you’re trying to do figure drawing of a certain style, then that’s the case, but surely there are as many valid ways to approach the figure as their are figurative artists.
I haven’t read Ruskin, no, but I keep hearing about his writing so hopefully I will at some point. As for working quickly or slowly, I very much take your point that working slowly may not be for you (see comments above). But I do think that a lot of the problems I see with peoples’ work when they’re starting out, and certainly a lot of the problems I had, can be helped by slowing down and taking more time. Accuracy I see not as an end in itself, but a means to stretch observational skills. I’d never want to try and force it on someone who didn’t want to work that way though.
I like the Hale quote you’ve added there: “…drawing is not merely an act of copying, but a highly creative act controlled by the artist’s expressive intent.” I think there’s a flip side to that coin though, in that accuracy – copying if you like – hones the skills that can help that intent to be expressed more fully and more clearly. I also think that quote could easily be used, and has been in various guises, to excuse mistakes and avoid criticism, self or otherwise. I don’t mean for a moment to apply this to you personally by the way, I’m talking in very general terms here.
Where I think that the pursuit of accuracy can become a problem is when it becomes an end in itself.
Please don’t ever hold back on the amount you write here. The database has enough room to take a lot more than you’ve written here, and I very much appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts. Thanks.
Hi Jeff, nice to hear from you. I absolutely agree, it helps to do both. In fact, that was one of the main points I was trying to make. One kind of practice I do is what I refer to as my ‘train drawings’, because I do them on the train. They’re usually copies of some old or not so old master’s work, and sitting on a train with a sketch pad means they can’t be done sight size of course. But this week I did one that I’ve copied before at home, not quite sight size but nearly, and the train version came out much better n terms of accuracy. I’ve no doubt that’s in large part to the sight size practice I’ve done in the mean time though. I must post some of those drawings actually.
Hi Sean. There are two main books concerned with Munsell. The first is usually referred to as the ‘Student Book’, which has a few colour chip in it and a lot of text. I think it’s a superb book and should be required reading. It goes into how our eyes work, how we perceive colour, and the concept behind Munsell’s colour space. It’s pretty cheap and you can get it from
amazon.
The second is usually referred to as the ‘Big Book’. This one is just a collection of colour chips (1600 of them) organised according to Munsell by value, hue and chroma. You can get it from X-rite but it’s pricey! I use it sometimes when I’m painting, and found the way Munsell organises colour to be of great help to me. I’ll post some stuff about it soon I hope.
I don’t know how much help it would be with grisaille and glazing techniques though, since there must surely be a certain amount of uncertainty in how a glaze over a grisaille will come out. More so than with opaque colour, which you can mix to exactly the colour you want before you stick in on the canvas. I’ve done very little playing about with grisaille and glazing though, so I know very little about it I’m afraid.
Marsha, thanks very much for adding your experience with the eyesight problem. I hope that helps Nick a bit.
You’re absolutely right I think, whether you paint from a photo or no you still need to know how to paint, to understand the same basic principles if you’re not going to make a dog’s breakfast out of it. working from life is certainly not a guarantee of producing better work.
One of the problems I have with photos though is that I think it can lead to a tendency to copy the photo, and not make a painting. But that needn’t be the case of course, you’re a good example of that as is Richard. You know of course that I don’t like to work from photos myself, but I’m trying to keep an open mind on it. It’s one of my pet prejudices, so I have a hard time doing that, but please feel free to pull me up on it if you ever catch me getting dogmatic about it. Just tell me to sit down and shut up, that’ll do it 🙂
Hi Paul,
Thanks for the info on Munsell.
I think you’re right about the uncertainties of glazing over a grisaille underpainting.
I am really interested in developing a better understanding of value and light, I think the Munsell book would be of great help.
Thank you again for pointing me in the right direction, your posts are a treasure trove of knowledge.
Kind Regards,
Sean
Sean, if value and light is your main interest, I don’t think you could do much better than to get the Munsell glossy neutral scale, or the student book, or both, and paint up some wooden cubes to match the chips then do paintings of them. The glossy Neutral scale can also be found at X-rite and is much cheaper than the big book.
That’s exactly what I did in my Munsell value excercises. I think that, in terms of getting a better handle on vlaue, it’s the most vaulable practice I’ve done. If you decide to do it and have any questions, email me or leave a comment here.
Hi Paul,
I checked out the X-rite site and yes, it’s quite a pricey book.
I’ll definitely be adding the Munsell student book to my library.
I really found those exercises, you posted a while back, on value using the wooden cubes, very helpful.
I’m looking forward to carrying out similar experiments.
Thanks for mentioning the Munsell glossy neutral scale, I take it, that with this device I could make my own coloured chips to proceed with the value exercises.
Many Thanks for your prompt rely.
Sean
You can use the glossy scale to make up a set of chips, sure. You don’t really need to, since that’s what the glossy neutral scale is, but it’s bloody good practice anyway. Don’t be surprised if you find it very difficult to match the chips at first. It gets easier with practice, and sharpens your eye for value too.
I did all my exercises with the student book and the chips in there. Those ones are matte finish though so they’re not so easy to use as the glossy ones. Mine are all dog eared and covered in paint now too. But you can use them if you like and then you only have to get the student book.
Hi Paul,
Thanks for the extra tips on Munsell colour system.
It’s good to know about the student book.
I’ll be buying it soon, if you don’t mind, I’d like to write you a short progress report and look forward to discussing how to navigate these learning curves.
Thank you so much Paul,
Sean
Please do Sean.
Hi Paul: Good to see you back online. I really thought something terrible happened to you, god knows what. But, luckily, I was wrong…. I’ve used the sight-size technique in the past, but have abandoned it for reasons that you post under disadvantages: lack of expression being the main one. I’d use it again if I were painting pots, vases and vessels, but maybe then again, I wouldn’t. I’m mainly a portrait artist, that’s perhaps why.
By the way, have you considered returning to the portrait artist forum?
Greetings, Antonia
I just read your article all the way through and i found it very interesting indeed. I think its great that you consider the merits of evrything so much and actually take the time to record your thoughts for others to read.
I agree completely with what you say about sightsize.
I have finished the two speed books now and intend to read them through again soon.
I also bought a bust a few weeks ago so thanks very much for your help there.
I have started doing bits and pieces and its actually more fun than i thought it would be. I find myself getting lost in the process and enjoy getting so absorbed in the task.
DIY has once again taken over my life but i hope to do more art studies soon…
Keep up the great work, i really enjoy your website a great deal.
Cheers,
Jake
I too have been experimenting with the sight size drawing technique. I got the Rousar book, and am hampered by space and equipment in trying to get the details right, so am doing as close as I can. So far, my drawings come out too small–I feel I’m doing something wrong. Also, I find it hard to measure with the thread–I wonder if using dividers wouldn’t work just as well?
Thanks for your incredibly helpful posts!
Hi Judy,
I haven’t used dividers by I know people who have and they say they work fine. You can also use any straight edge, a knitting needle or a ruler would work fine too.
When you say your drawings come out too small, do you mean in relation to the size of the objects you’re drawing? Are you working from life or a flat reference like a photo?
If you want your drawing to be the same size as your subject, your easel needs to be at the same distance from you as the subject, they’d be side by side.
as soon as you move the easel further towards you in relation to the subject, the drawing wil become proportionally smaller.
There’s a vey easy way to prove this to yourself. Look at some object in your room. Put your hand up to your eye, and line up your index finger with the top of the object and your thumb with the bottom, sighting between your finger and thumb as if you were ‘pinching’ the object.
Now move your hand slowly away from your eye towards the object, keeping it in line with it. You’ll find you’ll need to widen the distance between your finger and thumb in order to keep them in line with the top and bottom of the object.
If the distance between your finger and thumb was your drawing, you can see how the drawing would get larger the closer it gets to the object.
If you put your easel further away from you than the subject, the drawing would be bigger than life size.
Space is a problem with this stuff I know, I have that problem too working in a small room. Sight size portraitists used to like long studios so they could get well back. One of the myths (quite proabably true) about Sargent was that he wore a track in the carpet between his viewing position and his easel, from constantly walking back and forth.
Experiment a bit. I think you’ll find sight size to be a fantastic tool to help you to learn to see. It just takes a little patience.
Paul,
I think your opening thoughts are very wise. It’s seems that traditional artists are particularly susceptible to what I’ve come to regard as the “myth of authenticity” – the false notion that there is one true path in art technique, and all those who stray from, or never find the path in the first place are heretics. As you note, this kind of “brand loyalty” is seductive for we artists are an insecure lot. But it ultimately threatens to hold us back. It denies the value of discovery and growth and threatens to turn students into mere copies of their teachers.
A teacher of mine had a wonderful answer to this question of “correctness”. When challenged on issues of technique and authenticity, he would simply respond “If it works, it’s good.” With this simple sentence he could sweep the whole debate under the carpet and get us students concentrating on what matters: how to make our art live up to the level of our intentions.
It ultimately doesn’t matter whether this master of that master did something this way or that. What matters is achieving the results we desire. I will never forget this simple bit of wisdom. “If it works, it’s good.”
This was a very objective and well written article–thanks! I’m a little baffled that there is even any debate about sight-size versus other methods. They’re all part of a methodical continuum, in my opinion, not an either/or situation. We all make visual assessments when drawing, and if someone needs to set up a sight-size arrangement in order to do so, I guess that’s just what they have to do. For me, the ultimate proof is in the pudding, as they say. An expressive, suggestive, sensitive, uncontrived or self-conscious sketch by Degas, Lautrec or even Whistler is still as good as it gets. They produced brilliant virtuosity in spite of occasional technical ‘imperfections.’ The more I go back and repeatedly view sight-size atelier work the more lifeless and fussy it looks.
Thanks, er, Artist (wish I had a name for you…)
I certainly agree that there is no need for an either/or position to be taken regarding drawing methods. I’ve found sight size practice has taught me an awful lot, sharpened my eye and given me confidence. I didn’t do it because I needed to, however, I did it because it helped me learn. That’s all I’m ever interested in. Suggesting that the sight size approach is a crutch for those that can’t draw without it is a little disingenuous I think.
I also like expressive work, very much so. But I can’t agree with your last comment about current sight size practice producing lifeless and fussy work. fussy you might be able to argue a case for I guess, but lifeless?
Come on, now. After all, it doesn’t have to be either/or 🙂 Both expressive, calligraphic work and finely finished and highly realised work have their place, surely.
We might have our own personal leanings but that shouldn’t stop us appreciating work which comes from a slightly different perspective.
David, thanks for your comment above. I’ve just re-read it and realised I forgot to answer.
I agree with your teacher. Sight size works, and it’s good. I’d perhaps only add (quietly so as not to obscure the main point) that sometimes you can have too much of a good thing…
Personally, I’m convinced that the benefits of sight size far outweigh the possible pitfalls. I think it’s a shame that it seems to becoming synonymous with highly finished, highly realised and detailed work now, because it needn’t be.
Hi, Paul, This is the the post that led me to your website and creative triggers. I just thought you might like to know that blog posts work in odd ways – you posted this in 2008 – I read it seven years later and started following your blog and joined creative triggers. I was researching sight-sizing because I am studying in an atelier that emphasizes sight-sizing. I learned to draw in the 1950’s with John Gnagy Learn-to-Draw kits – don’t know if they ever made it to your side of the pond; then again in the 1980’s with Nicolaides “The Natural Way to Draw” and Betty Edwards’ Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain. Sight-sizing, in my mind, is a useful tool for people who have never learned to draw. Sadly, for me, it has taken all the magic out of making art. My atelier director and I have agreed to disagree on the sight-sizing. His job is much harder, but my job is much easier, and much more fun.
Wow, Deborah. Very cool that this led you to Creative Triggers – by however circuitous a route!
The John Gnagy stuff is new to me – I’ll look it up, thanks for mentioning it. I love to find new resources.
I think of sight-size as one method among many. It works well for some, not so well for others. For me, intensive sight size practice taught me to see better and more completely, and drastically increased my ability to focus. I’ll always have a special place in my heart for the method because of that 🙂
But it’s not without its limitation, like any method. I think the best approach is for people to try as many methods of developing accuracy as they can, and stick with the one that works best for them – or perhaps a blend of more than one.
the biggest danger of sight size, I think, is that it can lock you into your visual impression, and compromise your ability to deviate for the sake of the piece. Not always, but it can happen. It happened to me. I broke the tendency by concentrating on design and composition exclusively for a while, doing exercises from the book Composition by Arthur Wesley Dow. In the process, I discovered a new and wonderful world of drawing.
Perhaps, in a way, I have the shortcomings of sight size to thank for finding that world 🙂
Thanks a lot for your really practical straight-to-the-point and down to earth site so full of useful tips and guidance.
Looking forward to being in contact again very soon.
Donal