How curves and lines can tell different stories
Published 9:00 am Sunday, March 20, 2016
Art Is… by Bev Jackson Cotter
I have long been intrigued by the story told by a curved line. The line, used in simple or complicated form, is the basis of a drawing and the beginning of our learning.
You can show happiness or sadness or anger or fear by the shape of an eyebrow or a wrinkle or the curve of the lips. Aggression or peace or speed or laziness can all be explained by only a simple reshaping of a line. Cartoonists are experts at this, and today’s political cartoons are perfect examples. A swooping hairline identifies Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton’s hips define her, which is crazy, because there is so much more to the personalities and capabilities of both of them. Yet no matter what the other characteristics in the drawing, we know who the cartoonist is referring to.
In newspaper comics, I love the way Hagar’s assistant often explains life to him when they are caught in the heat of battle or on the edge of a cliff. The expression on their faces explains it all. And when Nelson asks his grandpa a question about common sense, his innocence and sincerity are so obvious. It’s all done through simple line.
In Preston Blair’s book “Animation,” he suggests that you stand in front of a mirror and study the lines on your own face as you smile, frown, grimace, show surprise, wink or show fear. Then, for fun or study, try to duplicate those lines on a piece of paper. With practice you will find that you, too, can draw characters, humans or animal, who will portray real life.
Betty Edwards’ book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain emphasizes seeing, really seeing the object you are trying to draw. She discusses the peaceful place our mind goes when we are concentrating on the subject of our drawing. An interesting quote in her book comes from one of her students, “I don’t think I ever actually looked at anyone’s face before I started drawing. Now the oddest thing is that everyone looks beautiful to me.”
At the current Student Art Show at the Northbridge Mall, I studied the line drawings of some junior high students as they created a complicated pattern around their names and then repeated that pattern four times within a circle. It was all done by simple lines, yet was so complicated. These drawings reminded me of the new adult coloring books that are so popular now. While promoted as a soothing and peaceful pastime, the drawings in the books are often very complicated. By the way, the art in this year’s student show is delightful — self-portraits by high school students, snowmen by kindergartners, lions, flowers, trees, hundreds of art creations by our talented students, inspired by our talented art teachers.
Back to my fascination with line. A magazine called Minnesota Women’s Press recently showed up in our home. Written by women and for women, it contains a variety of articles with a different theme each month covering many perspectives, local and global. In it, I noticed an ad for a plumbing business run by a woman. The logo is a sketch of a slightly chubby lady in a blue shirt and black slacks, carrying a pipe wrench in one hand and a plunger in the other. She is enthusiastically running towards her next job. It is a simple sketch with a little color, yet her excitement about being a master plumber is so obvious. Her ad includes the statement, “Thank you MWP readers for your votes for favorite women-friendly plumber.” Her simple line drawing logo has won customers, apparently satisfied customers.
A recent TIME magazine contained an article about crying, why we cry and why we don’t. The article included sketches of twelve different expressions used while crying, tightening the lips, wiping the eyes, hiding our face and more. Each of these sketches is a simple line drawing, yet it is so descriptive of the different motions we go through when we cry.
So often people say, “I am not an artist. I could never be. I can’t even draw a straight line.” For heaven’s sake! You can use a ruler to help you draw a straight line. Instead, sit down with your pencil and paper — and an eraser if you think it is necessary — draw a smile, then a frown, then a tear, then a flower petal. Then practice.
I was told by a college art instructor that most people stop drawing around sixth grade, and when they are looking for a hobby in later years, they start where they left off. If that’s the case, so be it. You must start somewhere.
Bev Jackson Cotter is a member of the Albert Lea Art Center, 226 W. Clark St. in Albert Lea.