The Line Between Drawing and Painting

Hard edge or fuzzy, thick or thin, delicate and crisp or vigorous and splashy the drawn or brushed on marks are what we have to make art.

I love the clean lines that describe form in a Botticelli painting and the brushy strokes of Chagall, or the hard edges found in Picasso or Leger.

So, where does line art leave off and painting begin? To explore this little mystery you might enjoy making a demo for yourself.

The experiment uses a few pieces of paper, such as ordinary copy paper (you can use your sketch book,) a ballpoint pen or Sharpie; something you can smear, such as charcoal or soft pencil; and some paint (cheap) and a narrow, all purpose house painting brush (99cents?).

Use black pens and paint, but you could use any color except yellow, which just does not show up well on the white background.

On one piece of paper, using the pen of choice, draw a line. You decide how long the line is to be. The idea is to look at your work and say, “Yeah, that’s a line, not a dot or a dash, but a realio-trulio line.”

Next, you make the line thicker/wider repeatedly until you feel comfortable saying, ”My line has become a shape. It looks like it could be something, perhaps a road or a strip of clouds.” Somewhere, between these two extremes is the very arbitrary transition point between line and shape. The moment of transition is personal to you, for you to use as a vehicle for ideas about imaging and design.

Looking at Things

How we see, or perceive, is a complicated business. There is a long history of shifts in our seeing. In medieval times a painting of a phoenix was not just an image of a blue bird (possibly shaped like a chicken with a long neck), it was Christ to the viewer, possibly seen as if in a vision. The artist knew that any person who looked at the work would respond with this emotive understanding. In our century, even when we know that the bird is supposed to stand for Christ, we no longer have the ability to see with eyes, free from all intellectualism. Now, it is up to the artist to guide the viewer toward sharing what we feel.

So, your job, as an artist, is to locate your own response to what you see in the world around you and to find a language of marks and colors that take the viewer along your path. You do this by trial and error and by reverie.

Reverie is something hard to come by. Ideally, there would be no phones, no TV, no babies on your lap, and having thrown your watch into the brink. Well, maybe dropped in a pocket, at least, mentally. But, sketching will take you there with distractions all around you.

Whether you are at home, traveling, or waiting, just waiting, try selecting your sketchbook rather than a magazine or the computer or IPhone and spend a small length of time alone with what your hand does. You will find that the relationship of moving your hand, making lines, making choices, will lead you closer to losing all sense of time, leading to imaginative reverie.

OK. You might have to set a wee alarm so that the chicken in the oven does not get burned.

Jester Parade, Forward Progress, and Balltrees

Sneaking Up on Painting

You could just plunge in and start painting. Some beginners do. Often, it works. I am of the sneak-up temperment. So, let me share what, for me, is the simplest overall look at how colors work.

You know the way, the manufacturers make up names for colors, such as “Seaside Blue”, “Sunset Red” or “Buttery Yellow.” I think this is an indication that we all have trouble determining the differences between blues, blue-greens, turquoisey-blue-green or between sort of maroonish, dark red- purple, etc. The truth is, in painting, it is often not essential to put a name to the color you like. And there are no absolute rules about how colors are used, so, If you want to paint a landscape entirely in shades of red, that is your call.

To make talking about colors easier, I group them into two batches: cool colors and warm colors. The category “cool” contains all the blues and greens and most purples. “Warm” colors are all the reds, oranges and yellows.

The coolest blue is the one with little or no trace of either red or yellow. As blue begins to have a greenish cast, which means there is a yellow aspect, it is a warmer blue. The same with greens, which start very blue-green and, adding more yellow, become chartreuse as the bump into the warm tones.

Reds are coolest as a “warm color” at true red and rise in temperature as orange and blazing yellow appear, then taper off in temperature as the yellow swings toward green.

To be honest, evaluating the line between the coolest purple (most blue) and the warmest (turning into magenta) can be subtle and depends a lot on the context. As I said earlier, this is where manufacturers describe a color as “Soothing Lilac” or “Springtime Orchid”

Having this primer language of color allows you to establish areas in your painting that have nice transitions. If you are adding color to your line drawing in your sketchbook, you can play with warm colors in the foreground and cool colors to indicate distance.

Use of color is very individual. You are “allowed” to have fun with painting with color. And, yes, someone is always making guidelines, rules and charts. At some point, you may find that some structure very helpful. Initially, I hope you just explore.

Working in a Series.

Marching Box Prancing Box

Two pages of boxes

I have included three pages from the same sketch book. They are scattered through the sketchbook, done on different days. I did the "MarchingBox" first, I decided the idea needed more animation and I made a rapid sketch of a box with Prancing legs.

Not finished with the box that wasn't a box, I did the Beastie one. Here, I did the first version in pen, then, on the previous page, I did a pencil of the same critter seen from the back.

Recently, I did a colored version of this concept. Apparently, I am still playing with the busy Box.

There is an obvious randomness in the nature of sketchbooks. You tend to draw what you encounter, what strikes your fancy and what you come upon. You may also use the book to make written or drawn notes to yourself that arrive in your brain of their own volition.

I want to talk about “series” thinking and “threads”. As you go along, enjoying just the process of jotting things down, you will find yourself becoming aware of something you have done that appeals to you. You may have created a certain squiggle that you like, caught the sweep of a tree branch with telling energy, or used a title that lingers in your imagination.

What charms you may have to do with the way your pencil shaded the sunlight from shadow to light.

It is out of these almost accidental stimuli that you will begin to function as an artist. If it catches your eye, if you go back to that page, if you find yourself lingering over a page of sketches, then explore what has been emerging, that is what leads to creation. Putting a name to it sometimes helps. You might say,” I love the way the center of this flower is pressing so hard to get out.” When you have been out and about: “ The faces of people when they are watching a boat race are so intense!” With your sketches you will learn to put thoughts and feelings into what you visualize.

Take the element that has caught your attention and deliberately explore further. It is fine if you do two or three studies, exhaust your new ideas and drift off to another topic. Some art has to sit and simmer.BUT, you have recorded the moment of interest in your sketchbook,( that invaluable tool,) and can resume working on what excites you at any time.

Doing a series of studies with one technique or one idea gives you the confidence to know what is your personal “take” on the subject. This is how you grow art.