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Showing posts with label Perspective. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Perspective. Show all posts

Friday, January 20, 2012

Ditching Perspective Rules


How much do you think about the rules of linear perspective when you draw or paint?
One-point, two-point, three-point—just establishing a horizon line and finding vanishing points can be such a chore that many artists find it too stifling to deal with. But there’s a way to find the correct angles of perspective for any object without having to memorize a single rule, and it’s something that artists have been using for centuries: the angle finder.
A brush handle, pencil, finger or even a stick can be turned into an angle finder. All it takes is holding your angle finder at arm’s length, closing one eye, and aligning it with the edge of the object you’re planning on drawing.
Locating the angle of the an oak tree trunk by using an brush handle as an angle finder.
Finding the angle is simple enough, but sometimes there’s a disconnect that occurs somewhere between reading the angle and translating it to a drawing or painting.  Years ago I recognized this problem among a number of my college students.  I discovered that when students were unsure about the tilt of an angle they were looking at, they could see it better if they could label it.  (An odd thing, labeling: something we humans seem to need.)  To enable an accurate labeling system, I came up with a method to teach angle finding by equating each angle to a number on a clock face.  
It works like this:  stand in front of a clock face holding your angle finder at arm’s length. Position it so that it becomes like another hand on the clock as if connected to the center. Looking with one eye closed,  align the angle finder toward a number on the clock by rotating it either clockwise or counter clockwise to find 7 o’clock, then 9,  12 and 2.  You have just read four perspective angles.


Now try this:  Lay a book on a table, pick up a pencil to use as an angle finder,  stand back three or four feet, hold the pencil on the eraser end, straighten your arm so your elbow won't bend, close one eye, then rotate your pencil until it aligns with the edge of the book's cover.  Look at where the pencil is pointing, then name the angle according to its clock number.  Try this again along the front edge of the book cover.
Keep your attention on the pencil so that it doesn't flop forward or  point backwards.  It  must move only clockwise  or counter clockwise, else it will mislead you.

The photo on the left shows the pencil pointing to a 10 o'clock angle while the one on the right points between 2 and 3.   Labeling these angles according to where we find them on a clock can enable us to draw these angles, by-passing perspective rules .


Try doing a simple line drawing of the book, labeling the angle of each line like I've done in the drawing below.

Practicing the exercise several times can give you a idea of how the system works.  After feeling secure, try the same exercise using a building as your image.

Just like any skill, the more you practice this the more adroit you’ll become at using it. Eventually you will have the clock positions firmly engraved in your memory and you’ll no longer need the clock diagram to help you out.
You will also discover that you’re recognizing angles in many more places, and that it’s much easier to draw them accurately—without ever being concerned about the actual rules of perspective again.
(Disclosure:  this tutorial is an adaptation of a tutorial I wrote for Empty Easel in October, 2008.)
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Friday, September 23, 2011

Getting To the Point

An adroit artist can focus our attention without our being aware of what's happening. One easy method to make this happen is a visual device called  one-point perspective, an approach artists have been using for centuries.

Photographer unknown
Notice in this photo how all lines converge to  a single point.  That's how one-point perspective works.

Take a look at how artist Joe Paquet uses this device.

"Classic Saint Paul"      8" x 12"     Oil on Canvas

Pretty elementary, right.  One-point perspective works when the artist arranges major shapes or points of emphasis so that our eyes are guided toward a single area called a vanishing point.   It's a natural consequence of how the eye sees parallel lines in real life.  It comes with our natural ability to see depth as when we're looking down a hallway.

Photo by MarvinOS

Just like they do with all of nature's organizing systems, artists find intriguing ways to employ one-point perspective.  Look at how Paquet found it and made it work here.

"Santa Rosa Creek Road"     12' x 16"   Oil on Canvas



 He's a  bit more subtle in this next piece.

Eagles' Nest Stage Stop    8" x 10"   Oil on Canvas

And he does a similar thing here.


"Queen Anne's Lace"       8" x 10"    Oil on Canvas



One-point perspective is not so much a composition principle as a structural device that can guarantee an artist both an eye path and correct visual perspective.  Sometimes a scene will contain exactly what you need; at other times the artist will make a few adjustments to enable the images to fall within the structural intention.

Probably one of the most ingenious one-point perspective painting ever was done more than 600 years ago:   Leonardo da Vinci's "Last Supper."




Have a fun weekend.
Dianne

Friday, September 16, 2011

Take This Path

A path for a painter is like a melody line or chord progression for a composer.  It's our way of getting the viewers' attention then guiding their eyes to the areas where we want them to travel.   We use a variety of methods to achieve this.  Look at this painting by Jennifer McChristain.  Where do your eyes first go?

Jennifer McChristian         "Rue Saint-Antoine"
Oil on Canvas 
The first thing I see is two people walking toward us.  After that I notice the other two people,  cars, and then the overall scene. Then, as an afterthought, my eye goes to the red sign in the upper left of the painting then to the rear of a truck exiting the scene.  The sign and truck bring my eyes back to the figures.  That's the path.



Experiencing this work is like feeling a chord progression pulling us from one area to another before we come back to the major key.  To keep the chord moving, the artist uses temperature contrast (the warm colors used in the building, figures and truck within the cooler colors of the buildings, street and sky), isolation (the dark figures within a light space), and one-point perspective (angles of the street and buildings vanishing to a single point).

That's better than a bagel with butter and jam.

Note:  After a long hiatus, I hope I'm back to doing regular weekend posts on this blog.  Thanks for hanging in there with me.