![]() |
5/14/22 Green Lake |
Although I’m enjoying exploring small studies (my generic term for scribbles in my sketchbook that aren’t “real” sketches) according to Roberts’ composition principles, my “studies” often morph into “real” sketches. I forget that I’m supposed to be learning from the study and not just having fun making a sketch. This might be partly because I know that my final outcome will not be an oil painting, so my range from rough to finished is not as wide as it would be for a painter. But maybe it’s mostly the element of intention: I start to have fun and forget the intention to study.
![]() |
5/25/22 Roosevelt neighborhood |
It happened one morning on my way home from errands. With frozen foods in the car, I didn’t have much time, but I knew I could easily make a thumbnail or two. I saw some interesting shadows next to a construction-area fence (at left). Somewhere along the way, I got interested in the details, and it was no longer a study. I had fun, so it’s not a problem, but its purpose was lost. (I was still quick – my frozen foods didn’t thaw!)
There’s also the element of expectation. A sketcher I follow was complaining that, compared to sketches she consciously plans to make, she often prefers the casual, spontaneous sketches she dashes off while waiting for something to happen. I related to her comment immediately, though in a slightly different way: I often prefer my studies to whatever “real” sketches that the studies were supposed to prepare me for. I have no expectations for the studies, and they often come off as simple, direct and fresh – which is all I want from a “real” sketch!
A good example happened at Green Lake recently (top of post). Enjoying al fresco coffee with Greg, I spotted a scene down the street that I wanted to sketch, but I didn’t want to take a half hour to make it. I promised I would take no more than five minutes (he knows I’m good for it). It was an ideal situation for a thumbnail (by Roberts’ definition): I saw an interesting composition that I could explore quickly by noting the values (I used yellow and blue, but they were more for values than color). If I wanted to, I could come back later to make a larger sketch in full color. When I finished in the promised five minutes, I liked this little study dashed off in my Field Notes as much as any “real” sketch I might have made of the same scene. It captured the moment, and it feels complete. Is it a study? Or is it a sketch?
Not that I care about the labels used, but I do care about my intention. If I intend to practice deliberately and learn from it, I don’t want to go on autopilot and just do my usual thing. In this case, it was the best of all worlds: I made a quick notation of values that ended up being a fresh, complete sketch – and I like the results.
![]() |
5/25/22 Maple Leaf neighborhood |
![]() |
Cropped to improve the composition |
I have a hard time getting enthused to do thumbnails. I'd rather just get to the sketching, but I do stop and think for a minute about how I want the composition and where the center of interest should fall. Most of the time it works!
ReplyDelete