plaza di repulicana
Caio! My first few days in Italy have been amazing—Italy really is everything it is made out to be. The beauty is overwhelming at first, and architecture breathtaking, especially in the basilicas. There is an eye for detail here in everything—in every structure, it seems that the Italians thought it important to put in beautiful details. Thus far I have seen Michelangelo’s tomb, Galileo’s tomb, the Basilica di Santa Croce (incredible—built in the 1200s), climbed the 370 steps up to the top of the tower in the Duomo Plaza, seen Michelangelo’s David, and been incredibly challenged by the course that I am taking.
The course I am taking at the Florence Academy of Art is teaching me a method I have never learned before—the sight-size method of drawing and painting, one used by Velasquez and Durer. I have learned so much already and only hope I can keep up. I’ll try to give you an overview thus far:
When painting with a live model, the biggest challenge is just capturing that one pose, not overlapping different poses your eye can trick you into seeing. Watch the model’s height, tilt (you can tell this by measuring the space between the ear in comparison to the lips), the turn of the head, and the inclination (the way which the top of the head points). A combination of all these together is called the gesture of the model. A portrait is basically the gesture of the model with the correct features inside—and the important thing is to capture the overall mood and shape of the model, the gesture and attitude of the sitter. The goal is to get proficient enough at the technicalities that you can capture what lies beneath into the model’s soul and way of looking at life.
First, we made an egg-shaped sketch of the model with the correct proportions, a small piece for reference. Then, we relaxed and drew the model simply to get used to his or her features and gesture.
sketch of one of the models, Julia
When ready, we then took a large sheet of paper (the size of the eventual canvas) and set up our easels perfectly vertical and perpendicular to the model. Then came the challenge. I have never drawn this way before, but the focus it takes is incredible. The time flies when concentrating this hard.
A diagram of the sight size method
Your cone of vision should be between the model and the painting—and you should be at least three meters back from the model and your easel. Mark the place where you stand, and using a plumb line (or chopstick) begin measuring the position of the model on your paper verses the model in real life. Basically, the goal at this stage is to get the shape of the model onto your paper in exactly the way she looks before you. We didn’t worry about making the drawings beautiful, in fact they were pretty ugly at this point, used rather as tools to get the angles and basic feature shapes in the right places. One helpful tip is to measure a vertical line down your paper first—then hold your plumb line down the center of the model. This helps with comparisons. Also, measure the top of the head straight across to your paper, and the bottom of the chin and nose. Start with the high points of the right or left side—that is, the angles most far left or right on the model’s face. As you draw, constantly check angles, and start with a drawing that is all straight angles. Look for the big shape, the overall gesture, with the mindset that the correct scaffolding makes a beautiful painting.
One of the very excellent teachers demonstrating
The most difficult thing I found about using the sight-size method is the challenge of standing back and holding the image you see from that point in your mind until you make the mark on the paper, after walking up to your easel. There is no cheating here—when at your easel, you can’t just look over at the model, because from that close all the angles are totally different. You must go back to your three-meters-back position, measure with your plumb line, look carefully, burn that image into your mind, and walk back up to the easel to recreate what you see. I’m told it develops excellent visual memory.
We used vine charcoal at this stage, and a fan brush to dull lines you’re not sure about so that you can put a fresh line on when you are more sure.
So as for the class, it’s very difficult but beyond what I was hoping for. And as for Italy itself—incredible! Some snapshots taken by my sister and I over the last three days…
the first evening...near the Uffizi Gallery, listening to the street singers (they have lovley voices)
One of the breathtakingly beautiful sculptures in Santa Croce
Street vendor with 1 Corinthians 13 tatooed on his arm. Love is patient, love is kind...
At Zecchis, the place we were told to get our paint. Magical jars of color.
View of the Arno River at sunset. Its the place of fairy tales.
