Here's the thing with this 'blog' portion of the site: I struggle to put my work out to public view (and ridicule) before I feel it's ready. Call me an obsessive perfectionist, but it's something I will forever struggle with. This 'blog' is meant to serve as therapy for that issue. It's going to be loose, nonsensical, and full of typos; but at least it will be out there. With that initial disclaimer, let's dive into something else I struggle with: sketching.
I've been drawing all my life. My mother still has notebooks full of sketches of the characters from Lord of the Rings that I did when I was 12. But I really didn't know the purpose and technique of sketching until architecture school. The professor at the University of Texas School of Architecture who taught me more than anyone about drawing was John Blood. It sounds cliche, but he introduced me to the idea that sketching is a lot like life: it's about the journey rather than the destination. That is to say, drawing is an exploration, a search for understanding, rather than a finished product in and of itself. Under his influence, I was I was focused on studying the inherent geometry and form of objects like this:
Later, I began to study the value of negative space on the paper. Focusing on the perspectives of Frank Lloyd Wright, I could clearly see that what is left blank is as important if not more important that what is filled in. It really doesn't get any better than his drawing of the Thomas P. Hardy House (Ignore my reflection in the glass. I'm trying to be less of a perfectionist remember):
This got me to consider how to capture the essence of spaces or objects as a whole composition, rather than independently. Consider this sketches I did in Italy:
This is by no means fully accurate in terms of scale, form, or lighting; but it is successful in capturing what I was trying to see on that particular day at that particular time. The negative space was used to imply spatial continuation. The textured paving was meant to convey a heaviness to the ground plane to contrast the lightness of the surrounding buildings. The people in the scene are absent of definition. They are simply there as part of the landscape, which is precisely how I felt on that morning.
Sometimes, the focus isn't on the space at all. It actually is on that object. Consider this sketch I did, also in Italy, which was studying the variety of textures on the gate of the Teatro Olimpico. The challenge, of course, was that I did this sketch with a new brush pen that I was (and still am) learning how to use.
All this is to say, I do not consider myself a "great sketcher," and I am certainly not an artist. I am, most of all, curious to continue exploring different ideas and sketching is often a great way to do that. Most of all, note that the vast majority of my sketches are BAD! The are things like this:
While they might not be pretty, I believe sketches like these are the most important! What are these showing? At this point, I'm not entirely sure (although I think I see some Swans Island Cottage and West River in there). What they show isn't the point. It's what they allowed me to discover through the process. In that way, these rough plan and section studies show what drawing is meant for: Exploring and Thinking.
Cheers,
-Taylor Massey