AN ACCOMPLISHED ARTIST is extraordinarily skilled in visualizing forms in terms of very simple mass. The masses he uses are the simple geometric forms we have been discussing: the block; the cylinder; the sphere; occasionally the cone; as well as simple combinations and modifications of these forms, principally the egg. He does this not for the fun of it, but because he knows through experience that by thinking in simple geometric forms, he will easily solve all sorts of problems that seem insurmountable to the beginner.
When we wish to create the illusion of reality on the surface of a piece of paper or canvas, nothing is more helpful than the ability to visualize in terms of simple mass. Troublesome problems connected with general shape, proportion, direction, planes, detail, light and shade, and line can all be solved by thinking in simple geometrical masses.
If you draw objects with your mind on one detail after another, the results will be poor; the large shape of the object, in which resides much of the object’s impact and personality, will be lost. Artists therefore think of the mass first of all. Many of them actually sketch it on the paper, even after many years of drawing experience. Certainly, beginners should always do this. Later on, they may not have to do this unless they wish. By then, they will have the habit of visualizing the mass whether they sketch it in or not.
A good example of how general shape is preserved through the use of mass occurs in the drawing of the profile of a skull. Beginners, enraptured with detail, will create a most distorted illusion. But if you first think of the skull as an egg in front and a ball behind, the details will become subordinate to the general shape and the drawing will be much stronger.
A side view of the body is most easily massed by using the egg and ball idea for the head; a cylinder for the neck; and various egg shapes for the rib cage, the abdomen and buttocks, the thighs and lower legs. The detail may then be very readily sketched in and should fall into place very naturally.
It is well to know that as different problems arise, the artist may use different masses for their solution. On a side view of the body, for purposes of general shape and proportion, he may well use two eggs: one for the rib cage; one for the hips. But if, on the side view, the top of the rib cage is directed towards the artist, and the hips have an opposite direction, he may visualize cylinders to accentuate these directions.
Beginners always feel that somehow, somewhere, someone has laid down for all time the proportions of the human body. They are convinced that all they have to do is to memorize these mythical statistics and everything will be all right. Beginners unconsciously feel that the anthropologists have measured all the people of all the races in the world, past and present, and have come up with something called the “normal” or “ideal man,” whose proportions the artist should draw.
Proper proportions lie, however, not in pages of statistics, nor in the dogma of scientists, but in the mind of the individual artist. Proportions are entirely his responsibility, his decision.
In the beginning, however, the student is confused by the problems of proportion as a whole; he is unable to decide on the proportions he prefers, nor has he the skill to draw them even if he could decide. So perhaps it is wise for the instructor to offer the student a few simple observations on the mythical “average figure.” If they do nothing else, these observations will make the student feel happier and more secure. Later on, when he learns to draw, he can observe when the model adheres to these proportions or departs from them. He can accept these proportions or reject them as he sees fit.
In the beginning, all students have a tendency to make one of two errors: when they draw the figure, it gets progressively larger as they work down the paper, or the figure gets progressively smaller and more squat. These students can be helped if they are told that the symphysis pubis (the place where the pelvis comes together in front, between the thighs) can be taken as a point halfway between the top of the head and the soles of the feet. Then, at least, the student who makes his figures progressively larger as he works down will be able to get the feet in before he reaches the bottom of the paper.
It is helpful, too, to say that the nipples are about one head below the chin; the navel another head below the nipples; and the symphysis pubis about three fourths of a head below the navel. The knees may then be said to come halfway between the symphysis pubis and the floor.
Of course, the trouble with this good advice is that these remarks work well when the model is standing straight, but the whole system collapses when the model poses in any other position.
It is better, therefore, to realize that proportions are largely a matter of relating masses in a manner suitable to the artist himself. In drawing the figure, you should constantly practice breaking the body down into simple masses: the head as an egg and a ball or perhaps a block, for instance; the neck as a cylinder; the rib cage as an egg; right down to the fingers, which may be thought of as cylinders or long blocks.
Practice will promote your ability to visualize the figure in terms of mass. At the same time, practice will greatly refine your feeling for proportion.
Start right away on a front figure. Mass up the head and the neck. Then visualize the egg of the rib cage in a proportion that pleases you when you relate this egg to the masses of the head and neck. Throw in the ball of the abdomen underneath. How big do you want to make it? This depends entirely on your expressive intent.
You are an artist now, you must make your own decisions. Do you prefer the proportions of Rubens or Michelangelo? Or would you like to leave the ball of the abdomen out altogether, like Henry Moore?
Beginners have more trouble with light and shade than with anything else in drawing. The reason is that the accomplished artist depends much more upon his mind than upon his eyes. He seldom draws exactly what he sees. He draws what he knows will promote the illusion of reality. The professional artist largely determines his tones of light and shade not by copying from the model, but by visualizing his model in terms of simple masses, and by lighting these masses in his mind. The tones he sees in his mind’s eye greatly influence the tones in his drawing.
This seemingly involved process naturally stupefies the beginner, who almost always starts to draw with the conviction that he must copy exactly what he sees. Even though he may understand the process intellectually, the effort of visualizing mass, and creating light, quickly exhausts the poor beginner. After a short time, he invariably returns to his old method of exact copying, as a tired traveler returns to his fireside.
Every instructor knows that drawing can be taught in the classroom only by constant repetition of a small number of basic principles. So let us repeat. When the accomplished artist shades a form, his drawing will be strongly influenced by the tones he conceives to be on the controlling mass or masses. I might even say that he frequently transfers these tones to his drawing, blinding himself to the tones he sees upon the model.
For instance, if he wishes to draw the model’s lower arm and hand, he may visualize the lower arm as a long, narrow egg; the wrist as a block; and the hand as the wedge-shaped mass. He has now visualized the general shape, proportion, and direction. Now for his light. Thinking of the wrist as a box, he may reason that a light from the left (slightly above and to the front) and a reflected light from below (but to the right) will reveal this form at its best. He will then light the other masses with the same lights, knowing that jumping the light is destructive. He also knows that it is constructive to have the highlight run the full length of a complex form like the arm and hand, without interruption. And he knows that the same is true of the intense darks.
In figure drawing, all lines should travel over preconceived form. But if the form is complex, this seems a difficult rule to obey. However, if the form is thought of in terms of simple mass, drawing lines is not so difficult for the beginner after all.
If you think first of the simple mass, you can easily draw lines that give the illusion of traveling in three dimensional space. For instance, it is very difficult for the beginner to draw the ribs of a skeleton from the front view. To him, each rib poses an individual problem each seems an independent object; each presents its own extremely subtle curve as it moves downhill towards the front of the body. But when the student is told that the rib cage may be thought of as an egg — that the ribs are but lines to be drawn over this imaginary egg — the problem is solved. If he then thinks of the tones that might be on the egg under decent lighting conditions, he can shade his egg first, draw the ribs, then rub out everything between the ribs, and the ribs will be beautifully shaded.
Similarly, if he wishes to draw an eye, he will simply run lines over a sphere, and eyelids will appear. The shade on the sphere, of course, will influence the shade on the lids.
Many lines that are extremely valuable in figure drawing may be attacked in this way and their full spatial significance easily understood. The center lines of the torso, front and back, must always be present in the student’s mind. They may be constructed in this manner. The front line may go over the egg of the rib cage and then over the ball of the abdomen. The back line may again travel over the egg, and then perhaps over a cylinder representing the buttocks.
Beginners always feel that all details are created equal and that it is thoroughly undemocratic to put details in their proper place. But this liberal belief leads to disaster. Of course a drawing must have details. But the student must realize that their impact must be subordinated or intensified at times. And sometimes they are selected, invented, or even eliminated altogether. These procedures require the deepest resources of the artist.
It is in the realms of mass and tone that students most frequently mishandle details. This mishandling may be easily corrected and explained. Remember that details must never be allowed to attract the attention that rightfully belongs to the mass itself.
Let us consider a line around a shaded cylinder. The cylinder is the mass and the line is the detail. If the line is allowed to circle the cylinder in full strength, the line will draw too much attention to itself as it crosses the highlight and the delicate grays. The solution to this problem is to vary the strength of the line so that the line is very light (or even absent) in the highlight, dark in the darks, and hardly seen in the grays. Naturally, segments of any other line, on any other part of the cylinder, must be so treated. From this, we draw the conclusion that the tones of lines on any mass must vary according to the tones on the mass. A crease in the skin or a line indicating a satin ribbon around the neck will naturally vary in strength, according to the tones on the controlling mass.
Mass conceptions, as I have pointed out, are used to solve figure drawing problems. Students of the figure soon become familiar with those masses that help them solve problems of light and shade. Naturally, there are certain mass conceptions that are so apparent and so useful that they are used by almost everyone: the head is again and again thought of as a block or an egg, or an egg and a ball, the neck as a cylinder, etc.
An artist necessarily borrows these conceptions, but he also invents many others spontaneously as problems confront him. In fact, some of the most personal qualities of an artist’s style stem from his preference for certain mass conceptions. As you study the master drawings in this book, notice how different masters choose different mass conceptions for the same form. Perhaps you can now make up some mass conceptions of your own. If you are to become an artist, the things I tell you are not half so important as the things you create for yourself or discover through your own investigations of the human form.