Thursday, April 08, 2010

Copper Palanquin 04.07.10



Man, this drawing gets tedious some time. Pure uncut tedium.

4 comments:

Chris Rywalt said...

You know, a few days ago I was going to ask, at what point did you start thinking, "I don't need this many of these guys. Why did I put in so many of them? There's just too much fucking detail."

I used to get that all the time. I'd start in on something and partway through wonder what the hell I was thinking.

beebe said...

Well, I always want to make drawings that are big, grand, drawings that are everything and exclude nothing. Which of course never happens. So I always aim way too high for my capacity to make work. The downside of this is that the drawings--even the biggest and most ambitious--are always disappointing on some leve. But the upside of doing this is that I always have something to work on in the studio. Short of ideas? Render another figure. I always feel the most psychologically balanced when the studio is active. There is a something satisfying in know when I leave--after having worked steadily for 3-4-5 hours--I know where I'll pick up the next day. I'd rather face tedium in the studio than not have anything to do there. Very things are as rattling to me as an inactive studio.

Chris Rywalt said...

My studio has a layer of dust covering it at this point. It's very sad.

When I'm actually painting these days, though, I no longer have the problem of wondering what I was thinking. My style and approach have changed so much from how I used to paint and draw. "Blues One Two Three" is probably the best example of one of my old paintings like that. Partway through working on all the little flings and flangs on the saxophone I was thinking, man, I had no idea saxophones had this much crap on them! The dumb thing is, too, the flip side of a sax has much less going on and would've been fine for my painting, too -- just face the chimp the other way! -- but I didn't think of that.

I do remember the feeling of satisfaction when something that detailed was done. It felt good. Sometimes I stop and really look at "Blues One Two Three" (it's on my living room wall) and I'm amazed I did all that.

Even though I don't really do it myself any more I still love it when someone goes to town on crosshatching and shading. Have you seen Frank Magnotta's drawings? He does more shading than hatching but he has that crazy thing going, too.

beebe said...

Yeah, I remember seeing Blues One Two Three when touring your site in the past. That IS a shitload of work. I've gotten to the point where I'm willing to use some kind of visual shorthand when it comes to rendering things of a saxophone-like complexity. I'd have probably substituted a recorder or wooden flute and moved on. But I respect your undertaking.

I have seen Frank Magnotta's work. I remember he was one of the first shows I saw after moving here in 2004. It's pretty amazing stuff. And heartening (is that a word) to see draughtsmanship still on display.