I've previously written about the great Australian illustrator and war artist, Ivor Hele.
A veteran of many bloody battles, Hele's figure studies frequently turned out to be "death" drawings rather than life drawings.
However, when he returned home to his wife Jean, Hele drew her in all sorts of domestic situations (some are NSFW):
Putting on her stockings in the morning:
Reading a book:
Reading a book wearing nothing but shoes and socks:
Sleeping:
Hele was unambiguous about his interests:
But those interests never eroded his high standards or stopped him from excellent figure drawiung.
22 comments:
Now you're talking!
JSL
Every morning , before starting to work I read and enjoy your articles. Thanks.
"My wife is a hunk of sleeping meat. I love her so much." - Ivor Hele
Just on the comment of 'death drawings', all Freud's work managed to do that with living things. They become corpses under his brush (also the only artist I know whose work looks better as tiny reproductions than 'in the flesh').
I don't think these have as deadly a touch to their subject, but I think they presage the morbid.
Very bitter after Sheppard. Don't like in any way the tendecy to read works as autobiographies, but drawings certainly speak what is felt about a present experience atop memory.
Bill
Another illustrator that after a war experience went somewhere very far away (but a different far away) was Ronald Searle.
JSL-- Well, different from the previous artists, but certainly another main artery of figure drawing.
Ignacio Noé-- I'm flattered. I enjoy your work, thanks.
Kev Ferrara-- Really? That's what you've got?
Anonymous/Bill wrote: "Very bitter after Sheppard." I understand what you're saying, and I thought twice about putting an artist like Hele right after Sheppard but I figured that a week had gone by. I'd say it's not so much that Hele is bitter, it's that Sheppard is sweet. Both were doing realistic figure drawing but their different circumstances had to affect their different approaches to the human form. Sheppard, a devoted family man with a fatal illness, lived every day in close quarters with his family in a civilized English home. Hele on the other hand spent months away from home, living in the trenches surrounded by fighting men in desperate circumstances. Or who knows, it could just be that the two artists were born with hormonal differences.
From my perspective, both artists were talented, observant draftsmen dedicated to their craft. I featured them here because I think both drew beautiful figure studies. The contrast between them reminds us that life drawing can be a vehicle for sexual expression (nothing wrong with that) or it can be a vehicle for reminding us of deep emotional relationships. Welcome to the rich variety of human experience!
xopxe-- Right! I've written about Searle's war experiences here before. Note that Searle too was hardened by the horrors of war-- he knew that when the time came to kill and eat baby kittens to survive, you do what you have to do. ( https://illustrationart.blogspot.com/2010/06/bamboo.html ) Did that affect his becoming an astonishing talent, perhaps the most influential pen and ink illustrator of the second half of the 20th century?
David -
I meant 'bitter' in the sense of the feeling the pictures make. There is a tenderness to them in parts, but the exaggerated emphasis with the tenderness (in the face, - it's also evident in how the body is drawn like a caress, though) relegated by the foreshortening upturns the body, that's when eros flies out the window and the sexual becomes something like a memento mori. All sleeping figures have something of this, but here the death figure eclipses the hidden dream.
'Bitter' not meant as we might use it in speech to disparage a person, it's a reality of experience.
'Sweet' is fine for Sheppard in the sense of 'delight', he's certainly not saccharine. I think 'hale' is better for him.
Yes, the contrast was fine. Cheers.
Bill
"Kev Ferrara-- Really? That's what you've got?"
How much more do you need?
The idea that the narrative fallacy is a fallacy is a crock. Expert work is full of self-revelation - only some of it intentional - to those who grok the underlanguage.
The spirit of a work both animates and transcends its forms. No animating spirit, the rendering becomes medical illustration; the artist as mortician. There is a kinship here with Lucian Freud and Jenny Saville. They share the same leaden spiritlessness coupled to a hyper-analytic sculptural ability.
I can barely see Hele's rendering for all the evidence indicating dissociation. I don't want to live in that perspective. If there's no singing of ideas, then what is being sung? And why am I listening?
I don’t wish to ignite another ‘tracing’ debate, but 4 - 7 look as if they’re drawn over projected photos to me. That, plus the voyeuristic angle, and slightly fetishised clothing, all contribute to the emotionally cool and sexualised rather than loving feel.
Kev Ferrara-- well, this provides a good test for the famous Ferrara mystical planchette. We've now seen life drawings by two artists of their wives, who they both loved, sleeping and reading books. Both sets of drawings were realistically drawn by capable draftsmen in the mid-20th century. Yet, only one set triggers your response,"My wife is a hunk of sleeping meat. I love her so much."
You distinguish the two by explaining your planchette detects an "animating spirit" in one set of drawings but not the other. This would make more sense to me if the sexualized drawings were done by "leaden" artists, such as Vargas or Olivia. It would make more sense to me if one set was sterile academic drawings (coming up next, from George Bridgman's life drawing class). But I see the Hele drawings as quite the opposite. He has selected well designed, unconventional poses for strong compositions, he has used a wide variety of line (thick and thin, rapid and slow, harsh and delicate) as well as deft use of half tone to make statements about his subject matter. He uses soft focus (such as the receding face in drawing 6) as well as sharp contrast (the raised skirt in drawing 4). He has exaggerated some parts of the form to convey his narrative, while leaving out some less important limbs altogether. (Obviously he thinks the shoes are very important-- I love the way he constructs those shoes in drawing 3, which those with experience drawing will recognize as a very difficult angle). It seems to me there is plenty of narrative in these drawings, just not a narrative you like. Perhaps you're not a butt man?
If all you're sharing with us is that a drawing of a middle aged mother reading by the hearth warms the cockles of your heart more than a drawing of a childless woman with her skirt hitched up, I congratulate you on your family values but surely there's more to the great diversity of art than that.
Laurence John-- I can't say for sure, but there are photographs of Hele drawing war pictures on the front lines ( https://digital.collections.slsa.sa.gov.au/nodes/view/4025#idx38735 ) in a similar style to the life drawings I've shown here, and he clearly was not using projected photos then, nor have I seen any reference photos in my books on Hele. Most of his drawings of June were from Australia in the 1940s and 50s; Hele retired after the wars to a small cottage near the water, and I don't know how much access he had to projectors and photo developers.
David,
I for one think I understand Kev's angle on this. It comes down to a question of as to what depth of meaning and purpose is the skilfulness being employed.
For me these very able drawings are essentially about how the body seen as a clothes horse for 'the garments of skin' both artificial and, in how it is perceived, flesh itself and in this sense they are superficial in their content.
Think we've had enough perversion, DA. I'll take family values any day of the week. Hele is way far up his wife's ass and you're right there with him.
~ FV
chris bennett-- If you're kind enough to step in help fill some of the gaps and inconsistencies in Kev's theory, perhaps you'll be willing to go a little further.
If "depth of meaning" is more important than skill, I assume that means the mediocre drawing in "Fun Home" or "Maus" (works with unquestionable depth of meaning and purpose) is superior to the polished pictures of Walter Everett, who mostly illustrated simple minded fiction with very little depth. It also means we should now prefer Cy Twombly, whose deeply intellectual and profound pictures are layered with meaning (but no apparent skill) to Harvey Dunn who had no such pretensions (or brain). Kev's welcome conversion also comes to the rescue of Dubuffet, who wrote deeply profound essays and lived a life committed to his credo. The list of examples that elude Kev's straightjacket could go on and on: are depressed and brooding artists who struggle with the big issues (such as Rothko) always superior to artists such as Leyendecker or Rockwell who are "superficial in their content"?
Equally important, if someone wants to judge pictures by their content rather than their form, it would seem such a critic should invest a little more effort in understanding the content-- especially if such a critic trumpets the narrative fallacy. Many artists who have suffered through the horrors of war (George Grosz, Otto Dix, Ivan Albright, Kathe Kollwitz come readily to mind) have emerged with some pretty strong views. Grosz's view of eros from thanatos make Hele's drawings look tame by comparison. Many of the scolds of the art world downgraded Kollwitz because they think her pain resulted in superficial propaganda content, rather than high art. Maybe. But for me, art is far too wild and rambunctious to try to contain it with a formula in which "belief in a constructed illusion after it has been rendered" is only entitled to 37% credit, while "believing an imagined reality in the mind's eye before it has been rendered" gets 51% credit. For me, these are like soufflés, and whether they rise (or not) depends on an often unpredictable combination of ingredients.
Anonymous / FV-- Thanks for the chuckle. If you have a moment, I'd love to hear your definition of perversion.
>>>Anonymous / FV-- Thanks for the chuckle. If you have a moment, I'd love to hear your definition of perversion.
That's a fool's errand, to try to put it into words. Websters says, "an aberrant sexual practice or interest especially when habitual." Does that begin to get at it? Not really. If you've ever met a sex creep, you intuitively know it. They're disgusting. You can sense their sexual sociopathy and depravity because they are unable to hide it. Fetishism has a lot to do with obsessive compulsive disorders; fixating on body parts, digging into the anatomy.
I guess to some people there's no such thing as a pervert. That's when you know you've got one.
Keep chuckling. And wipe the charcoal off your nose.
~ FV
David,
If "depth of meaning" is more important than skill, I assume that means the mediocre drawing in "Fun Home" or "Maus" (works with unquestionable depth of meaning and purpose) is superior to the polished pictures of Walter Everett, who mostly illustrated simple minded fiction with very little depth.
When I wrote; "It comes down to a question of 'to what depth of meaning and purpose is the skilfulness being employed'" I was talking about how skill alone is not sufficient, which is not the same as saying depth of meaning is more important than skill. Excellent carpentry on its own will not conceive a stool or a chair or a throne, but all three can be well made to fulfil the purpose for which they were conceived.
Which means one aspect of your statement;
"I assume that means the mediocre drawing in "Fun Home" or "Maus" (works with unquestionable depth of meaning and purpose) is superior to the polished pictures of Walter Everett, who mostly illustrated simple minded fiction with very little depth.
...makes no sense.
But it also assumes, as far as I can tell, that the literary narrative depicted in a picture is its actual meaning. In the case of Maus, the basic, schematic rendering of the panels depicting the activities of the animal protagonists are frame-steps windowing the political allegory being portrayed, which means it is unnecessary for the panels themselves to induce sensations any deeper than basic situational indicators.
So to push back on your point here, it will make things clearer to take the example of something like Waterhouse's 'The Lady of Shalott'. The meaning embodied by this picture is not the subject of Lord Tennyson's lyrical ballad. And neither is that of the 'subject' of any other picture. So where, you might ask, does their meaning come from? In the plastic arts meaning is divined from the optical relationships forming the picture itself and the aesthetic sensations induced thereof. Which is why the term 'depth' crops up. The meaning of a chair is given to you when you sit on it.
I'll stop there and cover the rest of your points when I have a moment later on. Kev, of course, knows what he means, and my comments here are only to unpack what my understanding is of what he said in answer to you.
PS: I noticed a typo in my previous comment. For clarity it should read: For me these very able drawings are essentially about how the body is seen as a clothes horse for 'the garments of skin' both artificial and - in how it is perceived - flesh itself, and in this sense they are superficial in their content.
https://www.iwm.org.uk/collections/item/object/20784
(Bill)
"...Walter Everett, who mostly illustrated simple minded fiction with very little depth..."
But the chord/s struck are themselves meaning and depth, this is still the case beyond the story-miniscus that is trite or slight.
The narrative and expression can be united, or the weight can lie upon one.
But if the 'depth' is just sewn on, the work can be junk and the 'meaning' only alleged, or associative.
Bill
mEniscus :(
Bill
When I saw the Hele drawings I thought they might have fared better in David’s “Artists in Love” series.
I don’t know about the other stories Everett illustrated, but “My Mortal Enemy” by Will Cather wasn’t one of the superficial ones.
After discussing the image here some time back I placed an order at my local library and there was but one copy in the state. The edition that came from over 100 miles away included a fantastic introduction almost as good as the book itself. The book was so curious and well written I read it a second time. The protagonist, a spirited and complex Myra Henshawe forgoes a large inheritance from her uncle to marry a man who entered business and shared little of her interests in the arts. He disappoints her and years later her flame of discontent has drawn her back to her childhood faith seeking a truth beyond the limits of form, the world. We learn this as she is facing her own mortality.
Different websites presented endless comments about the story, most feeling Myra’s mortal enemy was herself for not forgiving her husband, a fair enough interpretation. But one comment I paraphrase, included a line from a note by the author who said to a friend, I’m afraid people are getting the story wrong. Such implied that Myra’s mortal enemy was indeed her husband who hadn’t the imagination to go beyond the world of money and pleasantries to embrace the arts and humanities, and later her seeking a source to truth in her faith.
That Everett managed in one illustration to capture both Myra’s fiery personality and discontent which drove her to seek a higher truth beyond form in her childhood faith, was more amazing than I initially interpreted the illustration.
"He has selected well designed, unconventional poses for strong compositions,"
Every life drawing session I've ever been to says different. The models are generally amateurs, and amateurs get tired even in the quick poses. And they quickly figure out they can take a nap for the long poses. So they do. And so you get these kinds of poses all the time. Bog standard.
Although, if some assman-cum-draftsman in the class got up with every new pose and seated themselves for a strategic view of the model's bare bottom, that would be different.
"Cy Twombly, whose deeply intellectual and profound pictures are layered with meaning"
Haha. Now you're just trolling.
"Dubuffet, who wrote deeply profound essays "
Imagine if "profound" essays made the art profound. That would be a kind of osmotic magic. And all the untalented intellectuals would rejoice.
Enough people in this thread know what I'm talking about. For others, I've resigned that I'm no more able to convince them of the accuracy of the 1905 position on these things than I could convince a Panamanian Night Monkey that there was such a thing as blue.
...are depressed and brooding artists who struggle with the big issues (such as Rothko) always superior to artists such as Leyendecker or Rockwell who are "superficial in their content"?
I refer my learned friend to the comment I made a few moments ago.
...if someone wants to judge pictures by their content rather than their form, it would seem such a critic should invest a little more effort in understanding the content... Many of the scolds of the art world downgraded Kollwitz because they think her pain resulted in superficial propaganda content, rather than high art. Maybe. But for me, art is far too wild and rambunctious to try to contain it with a formula in which "belief in a constructed illusion after it has been rendered" is only entitled to 37% credit, while "believing an imagined reality in the mind's eye before it has been rendered" gets 51% credit. For me, these are like soufflés, and whether they rise (or not) depends on an often unpredictable combination of ingredients.
In as far as I think I understand you, I can see the problem you are alluding to. But I believe form and content are a unity, such that each holds within itself the other - an example of a 'both/and' situation rather than an 'either/or' where it is believed one can isolate, disassociate and assign quantities, or even qualities, to each part. Which is precisely why so-called 'purely abstract' work is as empty as the purely literal.
"But for me, art is far too wild and rambunctious to try to contain it with a formula in which "belief in a constructed illusion after it has been rendered" is only entitled to 37% credit, while "believing an imagined reality in the mind's eye before it has been rendered" gets 51% credit. For me, these are like soufflés, and whether they rise (or not) depends on an often unpredictable combination of ingredients."
You miss the underlying point. You can't fix a soufflé halfway through cooking it.
Art becomes the embodiment of thought right from the start of its creation. Which is why the greats always spent more time on imagining their pictures - letting them gestate in the mind - than anybody would expect or any normal person would tolerate. The great artists sit in their dreams until they crystallize, through hell and high water. The way a picture comes together - how and why it forms a unity - depends on how it is conceived and how it is believed.
That which is put together intellectually, as model, construction, stylization, and convention, must be put together as the intellect puts things together. Which is linearly and asensually. All sorts of relations are elided in that process, if one is sensitive to notice their absence. The intellect can be controlled as a tool because it is simple in structure.
The imagination is much fuller and deeper - much wilder and more rambunctious - in its meaningful sensual relations (thus compositioning).
(As far as I can tell, the new Blogger format does not allow the testing of comments before posting. This makes errors more likely and hyperlinking errors much more likely.)
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