Thursday, March 8, 2007

Lessons from Drawing Class

A drawing is just lines on a page. That's what my art teacher tells me. And when I sit down to do the homework, I must remind myself of it often, because I can be lost and discouraged by the effort to see and represent those lines. She also says:
1. Drawing is a process of seeing and re-seeing.
2. No line is a mistake, it just represents your thought process. If you change your mind, put down a new line. Don't bother to erase your old lines unless they are getting in your way.
3. As humans, we can't resist the urge to make marks.
4. A line is the most abstract concept in art. Every line is a whole plane. The lines on your page represent where planes change direction.
5. Start with the broadest strokes and work into the details.
6. The beautiful thing about a drawing is the intimacy you feel with the artist. You can see the quality and character of the line they create. You can see their thought process.

I love this about my beginning drawing class. I love listening to my teacher talk about drawing. I enjoy the drawing, the way I enjoy doing anything that's difficult and takes a lot of effort. I like the reward of beginning to see something recognizable in my lines. I like setting aside time to look carefully at a subject and touch it with my eyes and the lead of my pencils against a blank page. But mostly, I love thinking about the truth in the lessons my teacher shares with us.
I want to write, but I fear it. And then I think about drawing, and how it takes the same kind of patience and dedication to seeing and re-seeing. How for a long time, it just feels like random lines on a page, and then all of a sudden, I look again, and I recognize something true in what I've put down. And when I fear that I can never tackle the subject before me, I like to remind myself that all I'm aiming for is one view, one representation. I can't capture it all. Just like when I draw, I sit in one particular position, and do the best I can to capture all of those planes changing direction.
Last week in class the teacher handed out a good article from the New Yorker, "Last of the Metrozoids" by Adam Gopnik. It's about the art historian Kirk Varnedoe and how he taught football to eight year olds and art to adults. His philosophy was "The hardest play you learn is just steps put together." He broke the difficult down so that he could put it back together in a way those before him could see and appreciate. I admire that dedication.
At another point in the article, Adam talks about how Kirk taught a boy to catch the football. "When he caught it, Kirk wasn't too encouraging; when he dropped one he wasn't too hard. He did not make him think it was easy. He did not make him think that he had done it when he hadn't. He made him think that he could do it if he chose."
And that's always the hard part--the choosing. But it's such a hopeful perspective on life. Difficult, exacting, but hopeful.

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