Many
years ago, before photographic equipment became small enough and cheap
enough for anyone to take pictures, learning to sketch was something
most educated people learned to do. Tourists frequently included a
sketchbook and perhaps a paintbox of watercolors among their luggage
to make visual records of their travels.
While I'll be the first
to acknowledge that the ability to point and shoot a highly detailed
visual record is a great thing, there is also something to be said
for doing it the old fashioned way. It is a truism of learning that
if you want to understand something, force yourself to write about
it. By the same token, if you want to really see something, draw a
picture of it. Just as writing is nature's way of demonstrating how
slopping your thinking is, drawing is a marvelous exercise in observation.
Even simple diagrams or line drawings can concisely summarize what
you see in a way prose can never match.
The problem, of course,
is that since drawing is not a necessity for most of us. In our schools,
drawing is now part of the arts which (unjustifiably, in my view)
are considered secondary to a good education. The practical upshot
is that most of us suck at drawing what we see.
I have seen a large number
of books designed to help the beginning artist draw from nature. Cathy
Johnson's book is by far the best I have encountered both because
of her approach to teaching sketching and painting, and because she
approaches sketching as a tool for collecting data about the natural
world.
The book begins with an
excellent overview of the tools of the artist; pens, pencils, brushes,
paper, erasers, etc. Johnson discusses all of them with a view towards
their effects on the page, ease of use, and even how well they travel
in a backpack.
She then moves on to basic
techniques. Johnson demonstrates an understanding that the reader
might find the business of learning to draw intimidating. I noticed
that the drawings she uses to illustrate her book are good, but not
so stunningly brilliant that the beginner will look at them, decide
that they will never be able to draw like that and give up. However,
I also noted that as one proceeds through the book, Johnson's drawings
do seem to get better and better.
Johnson's instruction is
pragmatic and easy to understand. She is not so much interested in
helping you create great art, as she wants the reader to make a useful
visual record with minimal effort. The emphasis is on simple shading,
shadowing and line techniques that will create pleasing results without
months of practice. Johnson also goes into not just drawing, but using
watercolor and ink washes as part of a field sketching program. While
this sounds cumbersome from a practical and logistical standpoint,
it still seems to be a very useful tool for any naturalist to acquire.
That said, Johnson makes
it clear that spending time with pencil, pen, or brush is essential
to long term success. Clearly
learning to draw and paint well takes time. Johnson's contribution
is that she shows how todraw well enough to create satisfying field
sketches. Obviously if your goal is a show at the Guggenheim, it will
take a bit longer.
After some basic techniques
are explained, we then move on to applying those techniques in different
contexts; drawing trees, animals, landscapes, atmospheric phenomena,
and so forth. Finally, she finishes with advice on how to care for
and use your sketches as part of a larger program of nature observation,
along with some reflections on how her artistic approach to observation
has helped her learn about the natural world.
I highly recommend this
book. I plan on personally attempting to internalize some of the skills
taught here. Perhaps in a later article I hope to describe the results
of that experiment. 