I few days ago, the image of a man riding atop a piano across the ocean flashed in my mind. I had been thinking about solo piano music I enjoy, and about the possibility of visually expressing the music’s sentiment.

So, I got to work:

Howard Pyle, the great Golden Age children’s book illustrator, would reportedly create 50 thumbnail sketches before starting on a piece. Even if he liked the first one, he had 49 others on hand just to be sure.

The above thumbnails – along with several more not included above – were done in-between other work over the course of several days. Each day I stopped working on them, I’d say to myself, “That’s it! That’s the composition I’ll go with!” Then I’d return to the idea and completely switch things around. Using thumbnails helps me toy with an idea before striking out on the final sketch, making sure everything’s in its place and the idea is being executed as best as possible.

Also, as you can see in the last thumbnail, creating a smaller version of the piece lets me toy with the tonal relationships in the illustration, making sure the lights and darks are exactly where I want them. The clouds lighten around the dog, allowing his darker form to stand out. Similarly, the clouds darken around the face of the man, making his lighter profile more easy to discern.

I still have a bit of work to do on this before I can begin a final version, but I’m liking how it’s shaping up so far.

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Remember, you can always find me on Twitter and Etsy!

After the ink and paint dries, the tape is removed, the piece is scanned into the computer and is adjusted in Photoshop to match vividness of the original, there is still one secret and oft forgotten step in the illustration-creation process: the ruthless criticism. I step back from the piece, take a good long look at it, bury my head in my hands and run to my bed like a teenage girl overreacting to her parent’s discipline (“I HATE IT IT’S HORRIBLE I WISH I WERE DEAD! I’M GOING TO MARRY SCOTT AND RUNAWAY AND NEVER SEE IT AGAIN!”)(Okay, maybe not that last bit about Scott. He is WAY out of my league).

In the morning, though, a more sober analysis is possible and I am able to clearly and objectively appraise it in all its monstrous glory. It’s not my favorite piece or anything, and it does have its charm, but I wish it was a little brighter. I suppose that is what I get for setting a massive, ancient gray slab of wood in the dead center of the illustration. And considering each of the natural aspects of the piece have a similar pallor to them, the bloody redness of the artificial elements (hardhat, truck, chainsaw, sign) are that much more prominent (as was intended). Still though, I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. But that’s just me.

What say you all? Any comments, critiques, thoughts for next time, etc? Anyone spot Waldo in the piece?

]]> http://www.zackrock.com/blog/2009/09/21/intellignet-plant/feed/ 4 http://www.zackrock.com/blog/2009/09/15/intelligent-plant-part-3-color-me-bad-ly/ http://www.zackrock.com/blog/2009/09/15/intelligent-plant-part-3-color-me-bad-ly/#comments Tue, 15 Sep 2009 05:37:53 +0000 Zack http://www.zackrock.com/blog/?p=241

With the inking complete, I move on to the final stage in the operation: the heavy drinking. NO! Drinking and drawing don’t mix, and is evidenced by the “Progress Report” banner image. No, the third and final stage is watercoloring.

In the discounted watercoloring books I procured from my local art store, I learned that soaking your paper in water prior to painting preps the paper to take in the watercolor. Since I have no dedicated soaking bucket, I usually just run the paper under the faucet for a few seconds. This probably does nothing, but what’s art without superstitious rituals? Quickly, before the paper dries, I snap off four lengths of masking tape and strap the paper down to my art desk like its an asylum patient going in for a lobotomy. As the paper dries and contracts, the masking tape keeps the it from becoming a wrinkled mess while simultaneously creating a sharp border around the edges. Tape. What CAN’T it do?

Next, we glaze.

Since the action takes place outside, I want to give the piece a warm feeling. Watercolor being translucent, any color I prime my piece with will to some degree show through any color applied atop it, therefore I coated the paper with three layers of a light, yellow brown color. Have trouble noticing a difference in the colors above? Yeah, well, welcome to watercoloring. It’s all about the build up. That’s why Edward Hopper called it the AC/DC of paints. Well, that, and because every tube of Winsor & Newton Burnt Sienna comes with a smoke machine and passed out groupie. After each application, I blowdry the paper, speeding up the process considerably while at the same time boring me to tears.

After that, we get into the details.

Like the initial color, the ensuing colors must be built up from a series of glazes; highlighted areas receive one or two passes, while the shaded aspects of the image get innumerable coats. You want to know how many times I had to add a layer of color to the shaded side of the tree? Well so do I, but I stopped counting after twelve hours.

Next time you see this piece, it’ll be FINISHED.

After creating a detailed sketch of the illustration (see part 1: The Pencilning), I confound and frustrate my wife by busting out the lightbox, placing a high quality watercolor sheet over the lead-heavy sketchbook page, and tracing another version of the illustration. This serves two purposes: One, transferring the image onto better-quality paper that hasn’t had it’s fibers unfurled from endless swipes of the eraser allows for a cleaner application of ink and watercolor, and two, I’ll always have a back-up copy of the sketch in case something goes amiss and I have to start again from scratch. Also, when my future offspring divide my estate in order to sell my life’s output for what I can only assume will be many fabulous millions dollars, there will be more to go around (hence, less relational resentment/bloodshed).

Next, I tape the final sketch up on my drawing board, keeping the original nearby in case I need to double check an aspect of the piece; sometimes certain nuances of the original are lost in the transfer to the better paper, and having the original sketch nearby helps remind me of those nuances.

Now it’s time to ink!

Since I taught myself to draw by doodling in the margins of notebook paper, I’m used to working very small. Hence, my inking tools create the thinnest line possible. I go over the pencils with a Hunt 102 nib pen that must be continually dipped in an inkwell and is so sharp I’ve inadvertently stabbed myself several times, drawing blood most of those times (isn’t illustration FUN?!?! For your own health and safety, kids, aim to be firemen when you grow up). The nib actually creates a slight channel on the paper and deposits the ink therein, so the line is really dark. Unfortunately, sometimes the nib will pull up paper fibers and cause a very slight error that can only be perceived by someone who has spent hours toiling over the image but who will nonetheless be haunted by the mistake for at least the next week, causing lost confidence, sleep, and hair (firemen, kids).

To create a sense of depth and to differentiate the image elements from one another, I go over certain lines again with a #2 liner brush. The brush is also dipped in an inkwell, and must be washed off in water more often then the nib, causing it’s line to be a bit less black. On the plus side, it doesn’t pull up the paper fibers, so there’s less chance of a mental breakdown.

Next up: watercoloring!

Hey everyone, time for a progress report! Today, we’ll look at a project I’ve been working on for the past few weeks, an illustration for an art challenge held amongst the artists at my office. The theme for this month’s challenge is “Intelligent Plant.” With nothing other than that to go on, I decided to illustrate the most obvious idea: tree versus lumberjack.

As you can see, the first rendition of the illustration was heavy on the mortal combat, light on subtlety. The next attempt was better, made everything more whimsical: the lumberjack is now just confused as to where his axe is, and the tree as a sentient being (emphasis on “ent.” You’re welcome) who uses his abilities in a sneaky, rather than violent, fashion. But I thought the face of the tree could’ve been more… tree-y. Branch for a nose, moss for eyebrows, yes, now we’re getting somewheres.

Now for the composition. I had the basic idea of what I wanted the tree to look like, and the layout (vertically oriented, to get the branches into the scene), but there was still a ways to go. I decided that there’s no reason a mythical, magical tree-being shouldn’t be as comfortable in the stereotypical fairy tale past as in the modern day, so I swapped out the lumberjack’s axe for a chainsaw, updated his clothing, and dropped them in the middle of a future housing development. Around this time, I realized the top part of the image would go to waste if I only had branches up there, so I added some birds and squirrels up there on the branches, all peeved the lumberjack is trying to destroy their home to make room for new homes. Both the idea and the image were evolving, but I couldn’t help but think it could all be better still. So I took one more crack at the tree design and composition:

Nailed it! Now the tree looks way more like a tree and less like a human; a creepy and otherworldly tree, sure, but a tree nonetheless. I also moved the chainsaw up a bit so it could be circled in the branches and create a line of focus between it and the lumberjack, a line of focus that just happens to pass over the face of the tree. Now get get some reference images for the various aspects of and execute a full-sized sketch of the final illustration.

And that’s where it currently stands. What do you guys think?

Also, what do you guys think of this progress report business? Interesting? Boring? Stupid and boring and for losers and I’m a loser? Lemme know!