Ruminations on Verisimilitude

Most of the time, well...all of the time, really, I write a blog with a clear goal in mind- I have a point that I'm trying to get across. Not so with this one. I'm thinking in the open here. I spent this past weekend chaperoning a retreat for Jr. and Sr. high schoolers from Columbia Christian schools at Camp Yamhill. As usually happens, a couple of artistic things occurred. One I'm making a video of, so you'll get to see that later, the other was a quick sketch I did of one of the students.

Lydia, by yours truly

 In my admittedly casual pursuit of better draughtsmanship, this effort frustrated, then fascinated, me.  It is generally believed that verisimilitude is the goal of a good drawing- the more it looks like what you're drawing the better it is.  In my mind I know that isn't necessarily the case but it's still what I strive for.  Or so I'm wondering...

Truthfully, when I look at Master drawings that inspire me, I look primarily at the marks the artist uses- how did he/she do that?  I've been striving for a mastery that reveals itself in efficiency- a sure, quick line that captures the subject without a lot of fuss.

Not only does the line capture efficiently, but also expressively.  I've been looking a lot at portrait drawings by John Singer Sargent and have been jealously mesmerized.  They have all the qualities I've tried to instill in my drawing, including what appears, at least, to be a high degree of verisimilitude.  What I'm beginning to discover, though, is that may not always be the case.

I'm always struck when 'non-artists' look at one of my drawings of someone and exclaim, "Wow! It looks exactly like him/her!" when I look at it and see how much it doesn't look like the person I was trying to draw.  Which is exactly what I felt upon completing this drawing.  For the first couple of days after I drew it I would look at it and almost get depressed- it was way off the mark of what I was attempting to do.

Mrs. Swinton by John Singer Sargent

 I would pull out my book of Sargent drawings and compare them to this- trying to discern how I could have done it better.  And while I have come up with a few ideas, the opposite has also occurred- I see some things that are pretty good and the drawing is 'growing' on me.  Which is fascinating for a couple of reasons

One, the further I get away from the actual drawing event, and thus after a fading of the memory of her actual face, the better the drawing looks.  There is a quality that I'll call 'specificity' that lends it the sense that it actually looks like a real person, though you may not know what the person looked like.  I have sensed this quality in Sargent's drawings and thus assumed that his portraits faithfully render his subjects' faces.  Thanks to our good friend Google, I've had the opportunity to compare some of his drawings with photos of the actual people.  Yeah, he's good, but there's a certain degree of variance that  I honestly think I fall within in terms of how much it actually looks like the person.  So I'm reassured,... somewhat.

But Sargent's works still display a confidence and an expressiveness that mine lack to a large degree.  And part of the verisimilitude that I was trying to achieve has more to do with a certain quality I perceived in her face, features that I would describe as 'strong,' that I don't feel I captured.  But what I find interesting is what is expressed, which is a certain timidity on my part.   So I find that regardless of the characteristics of my model, what I draw are representations of myself- my uncertainties, my limitations.  It takes an extreme amount of courage to do a drawing- especially one that is characterized by 'strong' features.

Maybe I'll have the opportunity to draw her again.  But certainly there will be other faces, other characterizations, other chances to make some marks on a piece of paper, and other chances to learn- about drawing and about myself.

Meditations on (the) Resurrection

Easter.  Resurrection Sunday.  Most of the family is sick so the one Sunday when many people actually go to church, we elected to stay home and rest.  But G-d intervened in a powerful way for me.  While 'worshipping' in my studio, aided by a brief look at Facebook (the best spiritual insights come from the most unspiritual of means/places) I came across this:



 I don't follow dance so I had no idea who Trisha Brown was/is.  Sometimes it is helpful to know the artist and their intentions to get into a work, and much of my time is spent reading, watching videos, etc. to find out about an artist and what they're all about.  Other times, though, a work is so powerful, so affecting that an immediate connection is made, and the meaning of the work has less to do with the artist's intentions and more about the viewer's reception, the consequences of the work.

Watching these 'dancers' writhe and struggle their way through endless combinations of 'dressing' and 'undressing' I was struck by this powerful visual metaphor that embodied several things I have been thinking about lately and brought them together into a deeper understanding of the idea of Resurrection.

1.  Talking and Listening.  My wife and I recently went through a marriage coaching training where we were (re)introduced to patterns of communication, in this case, between married couples.  I had come across similar concepts in a phenomenal book called Solving Tough Problems by Adam Kahane.  Both describe specific ways of talking and listening that emphasized the necessity of empathy.  The speaker is to frame statements in a form that invites empathy.  The listener's role is not to answer or offer a rebuttal, but to understand, to empathize, to gain a perspective that is the other's perspective.  To stand in their shoes... or, in the case of this video, to put on their clothes.  In a Resurrection sense, it breathes new meaning into Romans 13:14: "Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the flesh."

2.  Identity.  Who are we?  I think often the trouble we have with listening as described above is the danger of losing ourselves.  If we are the listeners then we have no voice of our own.  We want to be the ones speaking and being validated.  We want to wear our own clothes.  But are those clothes really ours?  Watching the two 'dancers' struggle to fit into different clothes in the improbable space of suspension from ropes, I saw (or rather felt- a sign of good art is that seeing and feeling are inextricably intertwined) the struggle, the tight-wire act that we all perform in society.  We fight for our belonging in this society, twisted and turned every which way among the ropes of peer pressure, job demands, religious convictions, and physical desires to name just a few.  And those of us belonging to a religious tradition struggle with the concept of 'clothing ourselves with Christ.'  Of taking on the identity of Christ.  Of being like Christ in this world.

3.  Responsibility.  My wife and I have lately been watching the series 'Sons of Anarchy.'  It's a show about a motorcycle club/gang that runs an illegal gun trade and pretty much runs the small town where they live.  (Again- an unlikely setting in which to have spiritual insights, but here we go.)  We are fascinated by the sense of loyalty and responsibility that pervades the members of the club.  You don't have to be a member of the club.  Many of the members' childhood friends are still that, friends, even though one is in the club and the other is not.  However, if you choose to be in the club, you have a responsibility to the club and to its business.  You don't have a choice.  If you choose to join, you are choosing to put yourself in a position where you don't get to choose what to participate in and what you don't.  I was reminded of that while watching the 'dancers' in the performance.  At times they were just sitting on top of the ropes, trying to figure out where to go next.  Putting myself in their position, the temptation would be to stay up there- the activity otherwise would be too difficult.  But that wasn't their job.  There job was to get into it, to be involved, and to perform regardless of its physical difficulty and uncomfortableness.  When they chose to do the performance/dance, they chose to not have the option of sitting back and doing nothing.
        We recently started worshipping with the Vancouver Church of Christ.  They are encouraging the members to become more responsible in being members.  They are establishing some expectations that membership requires.  I see this as a good thing.  It's not about coercion or judgement if you don't participate.  But it is about this notion that if you choose to be a part of something, you are choosing to not have the option of doing nothing.  It's time to dance.  It's time to perform.

Resurrection.  New life.  A new life that is represented as being clothed with Christ.  It's a new identity.  It's a responsibility to each other to understand and empathize- to put on their identity for the sake of unity, harmony, for the sake of... Resurrection.