After almost 9 years of teaching illustration at the college level, I decided to leave it. I scheduled a sabbatical this fall because my busy freelance schedule was going to keep me hopping and thus, I didn't feel comfortable straddling both jobs. When spring looked to be equally busy, I decided that it was time to hang it up. Since I never considered myself at heart to be a career teacher, but a practicing studio artist, the choice was made even if it wasn't an easy one. I still love teaching and may consider returning to it at some future date, but I am at a point in my illustration career in which my practice is rejuvenated and that I feel my best and most exciting work is still ahead of me. Compound that with an interest in writing music and a keen interest in sculpting, and well, my choice got clearer.
That said, I still get email and in-person requests from nascent artists to teach them about technique, paint mixing, colors, anatomy, etc. "How do you do that thing, specifically?" "What is your secret to such-and-such a look to your paint, style, etc.", as they show me their portfolios full of their finished or WIP stuff. Of course I try to help as best as I can and give them the best critique to help guide them along the way. And then there are the virtual tons of tutorials online demonstrating digital or traditional media techniques.
Students in the classroom are in a similar mindset when they ask for a demonstration. Media and use are simple things to master and show. However, what I think they're really asking is "How do you know how that light/ shadow works? How do you know that that's the right color for that object? How did you arrive at that correct angle and foreshortening/ perspective of that anatomically correct figure?" All valid questions. All which can be answered with one thing: observation. James Gurney's books, Light and Shadow, and Imaginative Realism: How to Paint What Doesn't Exist, are excellent books on the topic of understanding how light and shadow works to define an object in space and how color works within this framework, how perspective works, etc. He also teaches the reader a bit about how to use reference properly and how to "paint out" that reference so that it looks like the artist gleaned information from reference rather than photocopied it.
How does Gurney know all of what he knows? He has been observing the real world around him for decades. He's a paleo-archaeologist, academic, and a scholar whose expertise goes beyond the world of illustration and encompasses several other disciplines. He's done a whole lot of thinking, and a whole lot of drawing and painting to process and codify that information in order to teach it.
Any other artist as ancient as Gurney (like me) began an art career pre-internet (or at least before we had access to it) where anybody who wanted to become an artist had to research his or her subject in reality-- ie. painting and drawing from actual live, real objects. Books were good in a pinch but photographs are not adequate substitute for reality. If you wanted to draw pollen burrs, you walked through a un-mowed field and any burrs that stuck to your clothing, you observed and drew under a stereo-microscope. Or if you found a dead bird, you might place it in a cornfield and come back to it a week or so later to retrieve the skull to draw and paint it. If you wanted great color reference for a scorpion, you bought one at a "pet" store. I personally collect actual objects like these and have made drawings from live objects which allows me to light them as I wish so I can study it. I can turn it around in my hands (in the case of the scorpion, it was with forceps) and really look at it. Today's young artists are skipping that critical step of drawing from life because they can go to the internet and just download a photo.
This is why they are still asking how light/shadow works or how basic anatomy works.
Tutorials and demos, books and lectures, copying styles and techniques are not a bad thing to start with at the very beginning of one's journey. But what point does the young artist stop looking at tutorials, and just get down to the nitty gritty of just doing the work, of observing the real world firsthand, and then putting in the requisite "ass in the seat time" hours in order to develop those observational skills. There is no shortcut here, folks. At some point, you've got to stop looking at tutorials and demos and just get to work. This time spent *practicing* builds your skill sets in observation, drawing, painting techniques. It also gives you the time to think about what you want to say and how you want to say it. Additionally, it builds your self-confidence in your work that is critical to growing a sustainable practice.
That said, I still get email and in-person requests from nascent artists to teach them about technique, paint mixing, colors, anatomy, etc. "How do you do that thing, specifically?" "What is your secret to such-and-such a look to your paint, style, etc.", as they show me their portfolios full of their finished or WIP stuff. Of course I try to help as best as I can and give them the best critique to help guide them along the way. And then there are the virtual tons of tutorials online demonstrating digital or traditional media techniques.
Students in the classroom are in a similar mindset when they ask for a demonstration. Media and use are simple things to master and show. However, what I think they're really asking is "How do you know how that light/ shadow works? How do you know that that's the right color for that object? How did you arrive at that correct angle and foreshortening/ perspective of that anatomically correct figure?" All valid questions. All which can be answered with one thing: observation. James Gurney's books, Light and Shadow, and Imaginative Realism: How to Paint What Doesn't Exist, are excellent books on the topic of understanding how light and shadow works to define an object in space and how color works within this framework, how perspective works, etc. He also teaches the reader a bit about how to use reference properly and how to "paint out" that reference so that it looks like the artist gleaned information from reference rather than photocopied it.
How does Gurney know all of what he knows? He has been observing the real world around him for decades. He's a paleo-archaeologist, academic, and a scholar whose expertise goes beyond the world of illustration and encompasses several other disciplines. He's done a whole lot of thinking, and a whole lot of drawing and painting to process and codify that information in order to teach it.
Any other artist as ancient as Gurney (like me) began an art career pre-internet (or at least before we had access to it) where anybody who wanted to become an artist had to research his or her subject in reality-- ie. painting and drawing from actual live, real objects. Books were good in a pinch but photographs are not adequate substitute for reality. If you wanted to draw pollen burrs, you walked through a un-mowed field and any burrs that stuck to your clothing, you observed and drew under a stereo-microscope. Or if you found a dead bird, you might place it in a cornfield and come back to it a week or so later to retrieve the skull to draw and paint it. If you wanted great color reference for a scorpion, you bought one at a "pet" store. I personally collect actual objects like these and have made drawings from live objects which allows me to light them as I wish so I can study it. I can turn it around in my hands (in the case of the scorpion, it was with forceps) and really look at it. Today's young artists are skipping that critical step of drawing from life because they can go to the internet and just download a photo.
This is why they are still asking how light/shadow works or how basic anatomy works.
Tutorials and demos, books and lectures, copying styles and techniques are not a bad thing to start with at the very beginning of one's journey. But what point does the young artist stop looking at tutorials, and just get down to the nitty gritty of just doing the work, of observing the real world firsthand, and then putting in the requisite "ass in the seat time" hours in order to develop those observational skills. There is no shortcut here, folks. At some point, you've got to stop looking at tutorials and demos and just get to work. This time spent *practicing* builds your skill sets in observation, drawing, painting techniques. It also gives you the time to think about what you want to say and how you want to say it. Additionally, it builds your self-confidence in your work that is critical to growing a sustainable practice.
