Tag Archives: charcoal drawing

Drawing Performance

Drawing is a performance –
It is one time then and there
Of the moment
As an act of creation is.

Beatrice Darwin*

anton lewis drums framed

     charcoal gesture drawing

Charcoal is a medium I’ve used for years, but never with such abandon until recently. I draw with willow and vine as well as compressed charcoals in stick and pencil form. Last year I picked up compressed chunky charcoal measuring 3” by 5/8”.  That’s when the fun started.

from left, 4 chunky charcoals, willow charcoal, vine charcoal

      from left, 4 chunky charcoals, willow charcoal, vine charcoal

All of the charcoals have varied tonal ranges, allow for a variety of line, and feel like an extension of my arm. This is especially true of the chunky charcoal which, because of its size, insists on grand sweeping gesture. I find myself drawing with my whole body. It feels like a dance when I draw this way.

Using various sides of the chunky charcoal, I make marks that express the movement or gesture of the subject I am drawing. Gesture drawings are done quickly without attention to detail. Precision is not the nature of gesture drawing. Capturing movement is.

Many finished drawings start as gesture drawings. The two charcoal drawings in my last blog ( Aimless Love, The Wideness and Wonder of The World) each began as a gesture drawing.

gesture drawing using ochre and black chunky charcoal

 gesture drawings with restatements

 

 

gesture drawing with chunky charcoal

Leaving a track of the act of drawing is a story in itself; the stops, starts, and restatements (draw overs) add energy to a drawing. Whether musical or otherwise, performance is one time, then and there, of the moment*. So begin your performance: find a subject, some chunky charcoal, and make your mark.

gesture drawing

Check out the performances of the musicians that I drew here at: www.stringmetal.com.

The epiphany of the everyday: chunky charcoal.

All drawings: © Constance Anderson

 

Aimless Love, The Wideness and Wonder of the World

The title of my blog, Epiphany of the Everyday, refers to some wonder I see and fall in love with daily. The poet Billy Collins talks about this in his poem Aimless Love, which starts:

This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later in the day with a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.

In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailor’s window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.

Collins writes about his loves. I draw mine. These charcoal drawings show the  tulip I fell for,

 

 

the last one left in the vase that over a series of days stretched and moved until its petals fell away,

 

and for the small pine cone that our resident squirrel had eaten down to its core.

Billy Collins continues:

But my heart is always propped up
in a field on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.

After I carried the mouse by the tail
to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink
gazing down affectionately at the soap,

so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again
as I felt its turning in my wet hands
and caught the scent of lavender and stone.

Today, “my heart propped up in a field on its tripod”, I fell for another pine cone, much larger, half eaten. It’s on the shelf in my studio. I have charcoal in hand waiting to draw it, to say something about “the wideness and wonder of the world as I live in it”.*

* Georgia O’Keefe, Viking Press http://www.okeeffemuseum.org/

For the entire poem, Aimless Love, visit http://www.panhala.net/Archive/Aimless_Love.html

For information on poet Billy Collins, visit http://www.billy-collins.com/

All drawings: © Constance Anderson