Surreptitiously Sketched Tudor

5/30/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

In addition to teaching me about the architectural styles in my neighborhood, my current series on Maple Leaf houses is teaching me about some of my neighbors. They can be funny about what I’m doing (and I don’t mean “funny” in a ha-ha kind of way).

A few weeks ago on a sunny Saturday morning, I passed this lovely Tudor that I’ve admired many times for its round porch and faceted conical roof. I had made a mental note to sketch it for my series someday – on a weekday (keep reading and you’ll understand why). On this Saturday, however, I spotted a large planter that was placed in such a way as to block cars from pulling into the driveway. Sharply cast shadows defined the planter in an interesting way, so I pulled out my little red Field Notes to sketch it from the sidewalk.

5/12/18 In front of the driveway of the house above.

I hadn’t been at it for more than a few minutes when I noticed that the owner had peeked through the drawn curtains. She came to the front door, stood in the doorway and said, with an unfriendly, suspicious expression, “Can I help you?”

Smiling, I responded: “Oh, no – I’m fine! I like the interesting shadows on your planter here and felt like sketching it,” and immediately turned my sketchbook around to show her. She eyed it suspiciously from the porch, gave me the stink eye, and closed the door.

When I had first started sketching houses in my ‘hood, I went out without regard to the day of week. I noticed, though, that on weekends when people are gardening, washing their cars, and doing other tasks outdoors, I am more likely to attract attention. Although no one had confronted me, I decided that I would avoid potential suspicion by sketching houses only on weekdays when everyone is at work.

My intuition was right. I’ve talked to others about it, and the ones who have sketched residences concur that some owners don’t like having their “property” sketched without permission, even if the sketcher is standing on the sidewalk (public property). Not wanting to get the stink eye again, I waited for a weekday before I returned to this Tudor and stood safely across the street to sketch it. (I think only her cat was home, sitting on the windowsill.)

Another Storybook Tudor (Plus Grisaille Demo)

5/7/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

Whenever I’m out walking in the ‘hood, this brick Tudor catches my eye. Although it was too small to show the details, the tiny window in front stands out from the wall in a pyramid shape and has its own little roof. In addition, the brick façade in front of the porch has an interesting stair-stepped shape sloping down from the roof. This house is straight out of a storybook.

Grisaille demo

Recently during lunch with a few other sketchers, I was asked about the shading method I’ve been using on my series of house sketches. As I explained it, I realized it might make an informative demo. While sketching this Tudor, I finally remembered to take a few process photos.

Step 1: I use water-soluble colored pencils to lightly draw the contour of the house. If you look closely, you’ll see that I’ve restated a few lines, but I always leave the wrong ones in, just like I do when I’m sketching with ink. Colored pencil is difficult to erase without damaging the paper’s surface, and it’s easy to cover up any bad lines later. (Look at the finished sketch at the top of the page – the restated lines have disappeared, right?)

 

Step 1: Draw contour lines lightly with colored pencil.

Step 2: Here’s where the grisaille comes in. I learned this method of developing tone several years ago from Steve Reddy in his workshop on illustrative drawing. He uses diluted India ink, which he paints onto his drawing in one or more layers, building darker and darker values with each layer. While I certainly appreciated learning this eye-opening method (which is apparently a technique used by painters, especially working in oil), I could never get over the mess and fuss of trying to juggle small bottles of liquid ink (a permanently staining one, mind you), which is impossible to do without sitting, so I never used his ink method.

Instead, I started using various gray toned markers for the same effect. Markers do not flow as nicely as liquid ink, so I admit that the result isn’t quite as polished as Steve’s grisaille, but the tradeoff of ease and convenience is worth it to me. In the past, I’ve used Tombow Dual Brush Markers, Kuretake Zig Clean Color Real Brush Markers and many other brush pens and markers for this technique, but my favorite is Faber-Castell Pitt Artist Brush Pens because they’re waterproof after they’ve dried. And just like diluted India ink, Pitt marker ink can be layered to create increasingly darker tones. I’ve used Pitt pens on and off as a primary drawing tool, too (influenced by Pitt master Don Colley), but I get better use of them as a grisaille. I used to prefer the Pitt standard brush pens for portability, but lately I’ve been using the chunky Big Brush version because it’s so much easier to cover a large area. (And portability is less of an issue since I got my new sketch tool organizer with slots that accommodate them!)

So, once I’ve made the contour drawing, I use a relatively dark value (I like cool gray IV in the winter and warm gray IV the rest of the year) to put in all the shadows at the same time before the light shifts (that’s something I learned from Shari Blaukopf).

Step 2: Use Pitt Artist Big Brush Pen to put in shadows that serve as the grisaille.

Step 3: I start putting in color using water-soluble colored pencils (mostly Caran d’Ache Museum Aquarelles), including right over the Pitt marker shading.

Step 3: Start putting in color with water-soluble colored pencils.

Step 4: If I activate the colored pencil with water, I can do it without worrying about inadvertently washing the grisaille because the Pitt ink is waterproof. (I’ve made some muddy messes attempting this with markers containing water-soluble inks.) I usually add another pass of colored pencil for deeper color and details.

Step 4: Activate pencil pigments

Step 5 (finished sketch at top of page): I finish by spritzing the trees and foliage and painting the sky (see how-to on both techniques). The very last thing is something I’ve only started doing with this house series: When I’ve done an entire sketch in nothing but colored pencil, sometimes the main subject seems to get lost in the background. To bring it forward again, I crisp up a few key lines (like the roofline and corners) with a fountain pen.

It’s kind of the reverse of what I’ve done for most of my time as a sketcher, which is to draw the contour lines in ink and then color them in afterwards (what I call the “coloring book” method). That’s a tried-and-true method used by many sketchers, and I still use it most of the time. But when I’m less confident about the linework (as I always am with architecture), it’s a lot easier to hide mistakes (like the ones I pointed out in Step 1) with pale colored pencils than with ink.

Who did I learn that technique from? Kumi Matsukawa, who follows this same principle when sketching with watercolor. She does her initial drawing with a brush and a pale wash of watercolor. She then adds successive passes of paint, and her final touch is to put in selective linework with ink. I had observed her doing this through process steps she had shown on social media, so I asked her why she did the linework last (which seemed “backward” to me). She explained that when she’s unsure of the line, it’s much easier to fudge it with a pale wash of watercolor. By the end of the sketch, she knows clearly where the line should be, so she can confidently put it in with black ink.

Her idea makes so much sense that I had to smack myself upside the head!

Sketching in the 'hood.

Tudor Shadow Play

5/12/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

This classic Tudor is another house across the street (it’s just west of the house I showed a couple of days ago). In the early morning and late afternoon, I like watching the interesting shadow play on its rooftop – so much so that a few years ago, I sketched studies of it at both times of day. This time I sketched it around 9:30 a.m., so I missed the illumination on part of the front.

In addition to learning about Maple Leaf’s architectural styles as I sketch this series, I find I’m also becoming familiar with which side of the street to focus on to take advantage of light and shadow patterns.

Brick Tudor

8/12/12 Copic Multiliner SP pen, watercolor, Stillman & Birn sketchbook

OK, I’ve stopped procrastinating: I said I was going to sketch more architecture, and I am.

To be honest, I went to Green Lake to look for the heron I’ve spotted several times recently, but always while I was walking for exercise and therefore without my sketch kit. Today I went with the sole purpose of sketching the majestic bird, but unfortunately, I couldn’t find it.

I was tempted to sit on a shady bench to sketch a few walkers, some trees, etc. – no point in hurting my brain on such a beautiful morning. But I turned around and saw one of my favorite brick Tudor houses in the neighborhood. This one is right on Aurora Avenue North on the other side of the concrete divide.

I gave myself a break and chose a head-on elevation view, avoiding most of the perspective issues. Baby steps, right?

Conical Tudor

4/20/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

Last week when I started to criticize a new house under construction for not fitting in with our neighborhood’s architectural style, I realized I should let you judge for yourself by showing you some of that style. This is the first of what I intend to be a series of sketches of typical home styles in the Maple Leaf neighborhood.

This is one of my favorite houses on our street. I walk by whenever I catch the bus, and I always admire that lovely conical-shaped roof over the porch which gives it a storybook cottage look. Thirty years ago when we were house hunting in the neighborhood, we hoped to find a Tudor-style house like this, but there weren’t any available in our price range. It looks serene, doesn’t it? However. . .

Just behind me as I sketched next to a huge dumpster, a house was being totally gutted by several men who were shouting to each other as well as into their phones (set on speaker) while music blared from a radio. Every now and then that cacophony was further punctuated by a pneumatic hammer. Someday I’ll sketch what’s going on over there, too.

Landscaped Tudor

5/22/19 Maple Leaf neighborhood

I admire the landscaping on this corner house every time I drive by. At the intersection of two noisy, busy streets, it was unpleasant to sketch because of the traffic, but all that lush greenery was soothing. The house itself is a cute, well-kept Tudor, but I think it takes a backseat to all those plantings.

Brick Tudor

12/5/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

After the series of sketches I made last spring and summer of houses in my neighborhood, I thought I wouldn’t get back to it until next spring when it was warm enough to sketch outdoors again. But driving around last week when it was brilliantly sunny and startlingly cold, I spotted this cute Tudor that I could easily see from the comfort of my mobile studio (parked legally, even!). I love the bay window that looks like a small tower.

Cars Are the New Architecture

12/21/12 Diamine Chocolate Brown ink, Zig and Pitt Big Brush markers

My big sketching bugaboo used to be architecture. Freaked out by the challenge of perspective, I used to avoid sketching buildings whenever possible. Last summer, with many sunny days and no more excuses, I sketched the Green Lake Seattle Public Library, a brick Tudor home I’ve admired, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and several other buildings, and somewhere along the way, I realized I had stopped fearing architecture. Mind you, it’s definitely still a challenge, and probably always will be, but now I actually welcome that challenge.

 

So now I have a new sketching nemesis: cars. What is it about cars that is so friggin’ difficult? They are neither curved and organic like people and animals, nor are they made of straight parallel or perpendicular lines that follow perspective rules the way buildings do. Plus all those shiny, reflective surfaces and curved trim pieces that look so good in glossy magazine ads are a sketcher’s nightmare. Out in the urban landscape, I find myself composing sketches in ways that allow me to avoid including cars, which are, of course, everywhere. The more I reluctantly include a car or two in my sketches, the more I loathe them. I have ruined many otherwise decent sketches when I put a car in the background.

 

But I’m running out of excuses, and I’ve concluded that the long winter ahead would be a good time to sit in my parked car sketching other parked cars. So let’s just call this BMW sketched at a Green Lake parking lot my baseline. Bring ‘em on.

Book Review: Now Where Was I?

 “A sketchbook memoir” is exactly the right subtitle for Now Where Was I?, a brand-new book by Seattle artist and urban sketcher Steven Reddy that was published through a successful Kickstarter campaign. Including paintings, comics and sketches spanning 35 years, the colorful, beautifully published collection reads and views very much like an illustrated autobiography – selective, retrospective, revealing and at the same time concealing.

Urban sketches include everything from portraits of gorgeous Seattle Tudor homes to plumbing pipes in Sidney, Iowa, and a house doomed for demolition in Jingdezhen, China. Older oil paintings have more abstract compositions than the on-location sketches, but their central images remain in the slightly quirky illustrative style that has become Steve’s signature. In fact, it’s easy to see that his urban sketches of thrift shop interiors, a favorite subject, had their roots in paintings from decades earlier that depict collections of seemingly unrelated objects: Piles of random stuff come together in a way that somehow makes sense.

Influenced by well-known comic-book artists like Robert Crumb and Chris Ware, Steve’s autobiographical comics are both hilarious and heartbreaking. He reveals just enough about his daily life, former and current relationships and personal angst to leave plenty of room for speculation – but they are not so confessional that they make you squirm. My favorites among the comics are his narratives of dreams. All dreams are so strange and disjointed that the panels of comics are an ideal way to narrate them. (One about George Clooney reluctantly sharing his sketchbook with Steve is so funny and bizarre that I wish I could view it as a film short!)

The overall tone of the works is of intense curiosity about the details of his visual world – no stone left unsketched. At the same time, the focal point of each sketch is crystal-clear, so you have to assume that it’s the result of careful editing. Occasional, brief text provides some context without overly explaining. I found myself literally laughing out loud at his descriptions of questionable foods encountered in China, yet the only sketch of a food-like substance is a chicken’s beak discovered in a meal. ‘Nuff shown.

The book is not meant to be a collection of only polished current works; Steve bravely includes some sketches and comics he made as a teenager and young adult that other artists might have chosen to keep hidden. In true autobiographical form, his story includes “where I came from” as much as “where I am now.”

If you want a copy of this inspiring, engaging, entertaining book, you’d better hurry to his Etsy site – only a limited number has been published.

More Lights, 6:34 a.m.

12/2/20 across the street in Maple Leaf

The family next door to the house with white lights put their lights up a few days later. At 6:34 a.m., the sky in the east was turning pink, but above this house, it was still mostly dark. Other than the colored lights, all I could see was the traditional Tudor trim and windows. I made them and the sky a bit darker than they looked because I wanted the festive lights to be the brightest.

Technical note: I’ve been using my square-format Stillman & Birn Nova Trio for these nocturnal sketches, and I am thoroughly enjoying the flexibility and additional real estate of a 7 ½-inch square. With my usual 5 ½-by 8 ½-inch rectangle, I must commit to a composition before I begin, and sometimes I regret whichever way I decided to turn the book. With this square shape and size, I can just start sketching and grow the composition in either direction. But as I discovered when I used my square Zeta book outdoors last spring, the same extra space and format that I am enjoying now make the book unwieldy to use while standing on location. It’s too bad – I think I would like using this format all the time. At least while I’m sketching through the livingroom window, I can perch on the arm of our couch to make holding this book easier.

It’s Complicated

6/4/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

I’m not sure what architectural style this house is – perhaps a variation of Craftsman – but it turned out to be way more complicated than I had first realized. Attracted to the blue trim and distinctive roofline, I didn’t notice until I started drawing the two cut-out corner windows (it’s OK if you can’t see them . . . I didn’t show them very well). And the trees and other plants looked neater and less jungle-like than I made them.

While sketching, I had an interesting conversation with the man who lives in a small Tudor that I happened to be standing in front of across the street. I told him about my series of sketches on Maple Leaf houses, and he volunteered his opinion about some new homes that have been going up lately “without any regard to fitting in with the existing styles.” (Someday I’ll show you some of those too, but the ones that are “the existing styles” are keeping me happily busy.)

I Couldn’t Resist Another Brick Tudor

4/24/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

My plan on this morning was to sketch one of the frame Tudors on 83^rd, where there’s a whole row of lovely ones on one block. But I must have been distracted, because I found myself walking on 82^nd instead, where there’s a whole row of even more charming brick Tudors. This is the plainer type without a conical roof over the porch, but it still has some nice details in the brickwork around the arch (which, unfortunately, I couldn’t capture on the shady side). I might have to go back and sketch the house next door to this one from the side, which has a very cool chimney detail. I’m going to have to get out there at least an hour earlier, though, so the light will be just right.

I know I promised to show the many traditional architectural styles in Maple Leaf. . . but I sure love these Tudors!

Landscaping

7/3/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

A nearby house is one that I admire as much for it’s beautiful landscaping as for the house itself. A classic Tudor, it’s partially obscured by lots of trees and bushes on two sides – a dense, well-tended forest.

I got a bit over-zealous with my spray bottle on the foliage, and some of the color started floating away. At the same time, some of my details got blurry from the spray, and I had to go back in to crisp up the lines. As is always the case with water media, there’s a fine line between just enough water and too much or too little.

High Noon

5/2/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

I could go on and on sketching Tudor and Craftsman houses since they make up the vast majority of the architectural styles in my ‘hood. But I also see homes of other types that I'm not sure how to identify. When I posted this on Facebook, I was told that this single-story with the large window in front is probably a mid-century. I sketched it at high noon, which accounts for the shadows under the eaves but nowhere else. And yes – our sunshine was back! (At least for a couple of days.)  

Take Two Aspirin and a Secondary Triad

4/9/22 Green Lake neighborhood

Every now and then I get into a secondary triad mood. As much as I love orange, purple and green together visually (as you can see from my home décor), it’s not always an easy triad to use. After I haven’t sketched with it for while, though, I eventually get the urge to go back to it.

Feeling achy and feverish from the Pfizer jab I had gotten the day before (a strong reaction has knocked me down after all but my first jab, so now I anticipate it and plan to lay low for a day or two afterwards), I popped an ibuprofen on Saturday morning and looked out my studio window. I didn’t have much energy, but I knew a secondary triad would perk me right up. I also knew that using materials I hadn’t used in a long time would give me a boost, so I pulled out my box of Derwent Coloursoft pencils. I picked out a saturated trio of green, orange and violet for the familiar scene below, and I instantly felt better (at least creatively, if not physically).

By afternoon, I was feeling a bit better physically, too, and decided to go out before the expected rain arrived. To extend my secondary triad mood, I picked out a less saturated trio from my Derwent Lightfast set. In the Green Lake neighborhood, I spotted a lovely Tudor on a corner surrounded by many different types of foliage (above). It was cloudy when I started, but about halfway in, the sun suddenly broke through. Cast shadows appeared in all the right places to give this sketch the dark bits it needed.

Both of these sketches were done with traditional (non-soluble) colored pencils, which I rarely use in the field. I used to think it was because they take longer, but I’m not convinced of that anymore – neither of these took longer than my typical watercolor pencil sketches. Because I can’t use the shortcut of water to intensify the hues and bring out the darkest value, I have to lay the pencils on with a bit more elbow grease, but not much. Maybe having to wait for water to dry between phases makes up for any shortcuts I take with watercolor pencils. In any case, the afternoon sketch at Green Lake not only kept me in the mood for secondary triads; it also put me in the mood to use non-soluble pencils in the field more often!

An interesting aspect of looking at these two sketches together is the difference in paper texture. The one at the top is my current daily-carry Hahnemühle Watercolor Sketchbook, which has a relatively strong tooth. For the sketch below, I used a much smoother Stillman & Birn Zeta sketchbook. Although I like both for different reasons, I’m slightly partial to the Hahnemühle’s texture with colored pencils. It gives sketches a rough, grainy effect, like an old photo.

4/9/22 Maple Leaf neighborhood

The House on the Corner

7/24/20 Maple Leaf neighborhood

More attitude in the 'hood.

I admire this pretty little Tudor house each time I walk by – the turret-shaped roof detail (I’m sure architects have a proper name for it); the weathervane at its peak; the lush, multi-layered landscaping that all but obscures the entryway. Two details I didn’t notice until I started sketching: That the turret is asymmetrical because of the complicated roofline (most of which I conveniently omitted); and that the flag is upside-down.

If I had a flag to put up, I would be flying it upside-down, too.

Craftsman

4/23/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

The American Craftsman style of architecture is common in the Maple Leaf ‘hood. Before we added an upstairs, our frame house looked very much like this one – simple details and a small porch flanked by plain, round columns. Greg calls this type “the poor man’s Craftsman home,” as we’ve certainly seen much larger ones with exposed rafters and big porches. If I’d had my choice back when we were house hunting eons ago, I would have picked a brick Tudor over a Craftsman, but I do like the clean, classic look of this house (and ours).

I think Reckless Video, which I sketched several years ago, is also in the Craftsman style.

More Shadow Play

6/12/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

About a month ago I showed you the brick Tudor across the street. Last week from our upstairs bedroom window, I noticed that it was casting an interesting shadow on the house just to its west. I've been meaning to sketch this Craftsman-style house in an unusual color combination, and the shadow gave me an ideal opportunity.

Embracing Fall

9/7/18 Maple Leaf neighborhood

I’ve let summer go, and I’m ready to embrace fall. Here’s my first sketch of the season’s trees: a Japanese maple that’s just beginning to turn. As a bonus, the tree stands in front of a lovely brick Tudor on the next block, so the sketch is also part of my Maple Leaf architecture series. (Many of the grass and plantings were as brown and yellow as the ones in my parched yard. We really need that rain.)

Paper note: I am very unhappy with the way water-soluble colored pencils behave on this Strathmore Bristol vellum. My complaints are piling up for my paper comparison post. Stay tuned.

Yellow Door

 

2/18/22 Maple Leaf neighborhood

A couple of days after I discovered the charming houses on a street we rarely walk, I went back for another sketch. The mid-40s is still too cold for me to stand around for much longer than a few minutes, so I knew it would be another quick one. I found a cute Tudor, an architectural style that I have a penchant for (and have many to choose from in Maple Leaf). Although the siding was dark grayish-blue, its bright yellow door surprised me.

Here’s an addendum to the insight I had when I wrote about the first house: The reason I used to need the better part of an hour to draw a house like this was that I had to measure everything carefully to get it “right.” In addition to the realization that there’s nothing special about houses as subject matter, something else happened during my 10-year drawing life. It’s not that my experience has enabled me to get it “right” in only seven minutes; I don’t know if it did. But the difference now is that I don’t care.

Caring that it’s “right”: For many, it’s the biggest barrier to drawing. Not caring: I wish I knew how to give it out to others. I could make a million bucks as an instructor if I did. Unfortunately, I don’t know how.