Working from sketches as opposed to photos.
 

I recently took a 19th Century French Art and Culture class and was rather impressed with the fact artists worked from sketches and drawings for their paintings. Naive me, I assumed they had set everything up in front of them to paint from life. I never realized most paintings were compilations of different pieces of architecture and bodies saved over time in sketch books, or drawn specifically for a particular painting. Jacques Louis David painted many a Napoleon from sketches. Napoleon couldn't, and wouldn't, sit long enough for a portrait. Apparently, there were enough sketches floating around of Napoleon's head to do an infinitesimal number of paintings and sculptures of the Emperor.

Here is an example where Degas used a drawing to create a painting. I'm wondering, does anyone here work like this? Would you mind posting your sketch and painting? I'm trying it for the first time. I'll post later, if the results aren't overly disastrous.

Hi Kimber,

Pietro Annigoni used to work from sketches and studies all the time. His best portraits, such as the famous "Fishmongers'" portrait of Queen Elizabeth, were done this way. In Annigoni's autobiography, he talks about doing a portrait of the Shah of Iran and his wife, the Shah-ette (joke). He mentions how he only could snatch an hour here and an hour there, sometimes drawing, sometimes painting. Eventually, the Shah complained that that blasted Annigoni was hanging around the palace already for a whole month and hadn't even started painting the portrait yet. When Annigoni felt he had enough material to work from, he went home to his studio in Florence and completed two superb portraits that both the Shah and the Queen were very pleased with, and a little surprised by, as well.

Frankly, I haven't tried working exclusively from sketches, but I have worked paintings to a finish all from life rather than photos. I much prefer working that way; I find it faster, actually. So, based on my experiences working from life, I don't see why sketches wouldn't be just as useful as, or better than, photographs. Of course, you'd have to have a goodly number of them and the opportunity to do colour studies of some sort would be helpful. As I mentioned above, Annigoni had a whole month's worth of them. That's probably not pracdtical for most people, so we are left with photographs.

I wonder if that Degas sketch was from a photograph itself? He worked from photos a lot.

Anyway, thanks for the interesting topic.

Best.

Juan

Oh, one more thing (I hadn't properly read the first part of your post). I imagine the types of paintings referred to in your class were not all portraits, right? The 19th century French academy was renowned for its rigorous training regimen, which David helped to establish. Among other things, its intent was to teach students how to work up elaborate "history" paintings from sketches and studies and models. This was an especially useful craft when you had to depict events from long ago, or mythical/religious themes.

Sadly, it's a bit of a lost art today.

Best.

Juan

Juan, the Degas sketch of the Baroness Bellelli was done from life. She was his aunt. He stayed with the family for nearly eight months and completed studies of all the family members in the painting during this time.

The David paintings of Napoleon I was thinking of when I started this post were portraits, but you are right about the French Academy. Their training was amazing. History painting was considered the highest form of the art (portraiture of the social elite a respectable second - both of these distinctions would change) and yes, they were done from compilations of sketches and models and props. You will notice the figures in the paintings seem to have similar poses throughout decades of different artist's work. This was due to the fact heroic figures were painted from sketches of ancient Greek and Roman statuary. Professional models were even trained to assume the poses found in the ancient sculptures. Academy painters became so adept at painting these figures, their "final exams" consisted of executing a history painting from memory. Graduates-to-be were lined up facing a canvas. Each students canvas was partitioned off from the next student's by a curtain, or drapery, and here they were to execute a painting. Artists who could not compete in this genre were relegated to painting landscape, still life, or "genre" paintings, (peasants enjoying pastoral life and such.)

I have sworn off painting from photographs for now. The experience has been nothing short of frustrating as I don't have the know-how to make the painting look as if it were done from life and not a photo. Honestly, few people do. I don't know that the painting from studies will prove any more successful, but I do know more time in front of a live person will do me good. So, when I have a model I am drawing and painting from her. This coming semester I'm very excited about the fact I will be in front of a model 12 hours a week and I'm expecting a lot of progress from myself. (As long as I can beat back the "Oh it doesn't matter if the head is the right size... express yourself!" teachers.) :(

Kimber, good luck in the life class. The more we work from the life, the easier it becomes to understand what to do with those accursed but tempting photographs.

Juan

Thanks Juan for explaining about Annigoni, who is one of my favourites. Do you have any examples of these sketches?

Kimber what an interesting training course you are getting studying interesting subjects about real classical training methods and how excited you must be about getting 12 hours of model time each week, wow.

Ngaire,

Nope, I don't have any examples of these sketches and studies. I've seen them here and there in the various Annigoni books I've looked at over the years, but there aren't any in my two meagre volumes.

Juan

Consider this thread - it should strike us all as odd that it's so buried on this great forum.

I plan to beef it up, but it will take some time...

It's a great topic, Kimber.

Finished portrait on top, Elizabeth II, followed by two drawings/sketches, studies from nature, by Pietro Annigoni used to work out issues for his portrait of Elizabeth II.

Sometimes when you work from life the "concept" in your mind does not work on the paper and many, many drawings die as you're working out your subject.

And then some sketches catch it--that divine connection between your mind, your subject, your maker--and the painting has the potential to be immortal.

That is so true. I am glad you brought it up. I have dozens and dozens of sketches that just did not ring quite true and are in the waste pile. It is difficult get the right balance of design and content.

The painting I did "The Age of Mallory " went through many evolutions, distance from figure, eye levels, details of costume, subtleties of pose before I knew I had what I need in a drawing.

My latest model, is now in school, so she can come only once a week. I took a photo of her. How dead it seems in comparison.

As to working from sketches, not many of us have the training to do it today. I know I don't.

Mari, thanks for posting that Annigoni painting, to remind us just how beautiful and grand portraiture can be. The drawing of the hands is so utterly beautiful.

Sharon, given the level of your work, I fiind that statement intriguing. What sort of training do you envision as being necessary?

I would say that I very rarely work directly from the life, "painting what I see". Almost everything I do is "frankensteined" together from sketches, memory, imagination, photo references, and the great difficulty I have is to make it "flow". The usual flaw is a sense of being contrived, or a "wooden" aspect, even if glaring errors of scale and perspective have been avoided.

(What a great topic!)

Richard,

I rarely make enough of a detailed study of the figure before I paint.

Howewer I do some rather comprehensive charcoals to estimate the size of my canvas, and complete the design. Then I do quick color studies.

I find that they are not informative enough to paint from, and are useless references for color.

I quess I am simply unequipped enough to make things up in my head except some flora, perhaps clouds but never figures. I have to have someone in front of me.

Richard wrote: That's hard to do, isn't it! That's why a lot of people think it's easier to work from life (aside from being a lot more fun, too). You never have to "make something up". It's all there right in front of you.

Sharon wrote: I do color studies for every portrait and find them very helpful for working out the composition. If I took the model or other reference away there's no way I could complete the painting from the color study, though. I use the study mostly to "test out" compositional ideas. I'll even do this halfway through the painting. If I want to change something I'll change it on the study and see if it works. Tom Nash told me he uses his color studies for the same purpose.

I should have been a bit clearer. The drawings are not very useful to paint from. The color studies are merely a quide when you are faced with the horror of the blank canvas. They are simply a map, a pointer, that is about it.

I can't disagree with that, Michele, but with all due respect for the value of working from the life in all cases, it wouldn't be amiss to note practically none of the great master paintings we study and revere were painted that way. Not the Sistine ceiling, not Rubens' epics, not Tiepolo's monuments, nor Titian's grand works . . . it would be far easier to point to the few instances in which the masters worked directly from the life. Not even Vermeer's small jewels were painted directly from the life situations they portray.

Even John F. Carlson cautioned against painting "true to life" landscapes, as "life" so rarely presents ideal situations of composition, scale and color to a single view. Higher art is born of judicious "editing" on the part of the artist.

Ah, Richard, you've opened the door to the great balancing act of all realism, whether you work from life or exclusively from your imagination.

In the greatest works that have survived to our time (the "old masters") there is always a symphonic balance between "what you see," the realism in front of you that Michele is referring to, and "what you know," meaning, what you know of anatomy, modelling form, schemas the masters used to construct the head, how light falls across the form conception of a sphere or column or cube. In this second category is the most profound concept: invenzione. The charm of the Dutch pub scene will never top the blinding invenzione of Michelangelo.

Has anyone claimed it's easier to work from life? More fun? I had a session today where I would have been happy to have cut my wrists afterwards. But as with any other work, there are good days and there are terrible days.

It is also easier to buy a jar of mayonnaise at the grocer than it is to make a weekly batch of aioli. But the difference is extreme and well worth the good focused work it takes to learn the mechanics of the emulsion, even taking into account all the broken sauces, wasted eggs and wasted olive oil.

However, I do not intend to deteriorate this thread into another argument of the virtues of working from life vs. working from photographs. This thread can remain a positive resource of examples of those greats who do use "alternative" ;) sources, like drawings, color sketches, compositional studies, clay models, drapery studies.

Wonderful metaphor, Mari, and hardly a deterioration of the thread, IMO. On the contrary, it seems very much to the point. -- John C.

Great topic here. There's something to be said for both methods - working from life or from photos, or working from your imagination. I would think it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to paint a figure without some sort of reference since you have to think about light and color and not just form. I suppose with enough years of experience under your belt, it becomes second nature.

Sometimes I think that working from life is easier - just sculpt what you see. Funny thing is, it is often more difficult to make a person sitting in front of you than it is to make a made up person, because it has to look like the person.

On the other hand, I currently have about 9 unfinished pieces sitting in my studio that went incredibly fast in the beginning, but then I got stuck and never finished them. My knowledge of anatomy only goes so far, and then I need to find a model with a similar body type to work out the problem areas convincingly.

Every idea for a sculpture that I've had that was not a portrait started out as a scribble on a sticky note. I have tons of those scribbles though that never made it to the clay stage.

As a side note, I would say for the most part that pieces made strictly from a person's imagination tend to be more interesting than those that are mainly based on a photo.

[QUOTE=Mari DeRuntz Has anyone claimed it's easier to work from life? More fun? I had a session today where I would have been happy to have cut my wrists afterwards. But as with any other work, there are good days and there are terrible days.

It is also easier to buy a jar of mayonnaise at the grocer than it is to make a weekly batch of aioli. But the difference is extreme and well worth the good focused work it takes to learn the mechanics of the emulsion, even taking into account all the broken sauces, wasted eggs and wasted olive oil.QUOTE]

Working from life has ruined many days for me. I have sat in a blue funk for the rest of the day wondering if my days were better and more profitably spent as a bagger in a supermarket. However I like the randomness of the result of good and bad days on a piece.

Somehow, pieces from my imagination have led me down all the stale old paths, making a vanilla vision of all the faces I knew in the past. I like the challenge of a slightly askew nose, the actual asymmetry of faces, the subtle play of light that changes like quicksilver at the slightest change of an angle.

Yes, homemade aioli is a gift of the Gods.

Very interesting thread.
I personally don