Skip to main content

Paris Rooftops

Another rooftop scene washed with black tea, though coffee might been more apt for Paris. I want to celebrate Paris's commitment to corrugated, slate-blue metal roofs, as explored by the titular cat in A Cat in Paris. 
I enjoyed painting in darker and lighter tones over the middle tea tint. In past projects I have used Micron fineliners under my wash work because their ink doesn't blur, but I often find their lines too even, which makes the drawing feel contrived, mindlessly consistent in the weight of the line rather than heedful of the weight of the objects. For this project I returned to a college technique of drawing with a sharpened dowel and black ink to create some of the beefier, sketchy lines around the outside of the buildings because I can vary the weight more with pressure.
Some details aren't explored with ink to give greater emphasis to others: a tree in the courtyard, smaller buildings in the background. 
As I drew, I kept recalling advice about how to define which lines should be drawn heavily and which should be drawn lightly in a complex drawing to give objects appropriate weight. According to the "ant line" rule, if an ant could crawl over a line in the subject and completely disappear from sight, then that line should be drawn more heavily than the others. The number of ants I imagined roving the many angles is somewhat unfair to the residents of these apartments



And just for fun, here are some photos of me in Paris a very, very long time ago.





Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Artifact Studies and Random Notes

In junior high school I collaborated on a project with a small, mostly-female group of students. We were to design a unique, fictional culture and build illustrative cultural artifacts. We would bury said artifacts in a cardboard box filled with soil. Another team would then excavate our artifacts and guess about our culture. After several days of creative deliberation, we designed a pyramid-based matriarchy wherein men were kept underground as slaves, brought out occasionally to build more pyramids. Elvis was God. According to the artifact of my memory, middle school was a confused and hostile culture. I began this week's illustrations, again, with visual research. I still don't know everything about these artifacts, but my Stebbins Dance Festival book has some interesting statements about them. Part of what I do know I impart below. According to their cultural artifacts, the Yup'ik people practice artful dancing to drums while waving furred objects. They also spend time ...
7 comments
Read more

Ad Hominem and the Carney Lexicon

Ad hominem is one of the better-known fallacies, perhaps because it is so common. In Latin, it means: "to the man." In American, it translates fuzzily to: "Oh yeah? Well, you're ugly." Broken down, the ad hominem argument looks like this: Person 1 makes claim X There is something objectionable about Person 1 (maybe ugliness) Therefore claim X is false Ad hominem is one of the many red-herring arguments, fallacious when it diverts attention from the core argument to focus on some flaw about the arguer. In creating my illustration, I needed a distracting character, and what character is more distracting than one of those bellowing circus-game people with the rings, bottles, and inflatable dolphin prizes? I quickly realized my vocabulary lacked a word for a purveyor of state-fair gamery, other than the generic "carney." Perhaps this is because I have never played a circus game, due to my lack of coordination and my dominant interest in spending my tick...
1 comment
Read more

Work from Home

  The reference for this piece is a known work of fine art: a photograph by Peter Mitchell, a lorry driver who traversed West Yorkshire and occasionally snapped photos. The piece is titled Eric Massheder, Leeds, (1975) . Eric is the man in the doorway, a drippings refinery worker who posed in his home, adjacent (really, attached) to the refinery where he worked for 12 years. Eric woke up in his home in the morning, walked one room (or so) over, and began his shift. I have changed and omitted a few details for the sake of composition as usual. I've now been working from home for about four years, and I make a similar commute without stepping outdoors. My house even resembles Eric's a bit, though there's no factory nearby. I enter my workplace by transferring a USB cable, which joins all of my input and output devices from my personal computer to my work laptop. I stoop under my desk to make the transfer, so possibly a similar amount of exercise is involved—the digital equiva...
Post a Comment
Read more