ANOTHER GREAT HORSE'S ASS (part 3)

(continuing a series) 

I love this drawing of a horseman by Rodin:

When Rodin was 16, he drew tight academic drawings:

Over the years he evolved from meticulous drawings (usually drawn from plaster casts or classical prints) to loose, fluid drawings where expressiveness was more important than anatomical proportion.  He decided that many of the details he originally labored over were trivial.  He became more interested in "large, rhythmical contours," which were often little more than wispy sketches.  As his drawings became simpler and more abstract they sometimes gained in power.

Rodin took his drawings as seriously as his famous sculptures.  He insisted, "Drawing is the key to knowledge.... Without drawing, no truth." 

For Rodin, the truth about the horseman seemed to lie in the haunches of that horse, which takes up the bulk of the drawing and which forms the base from which the movement (as well as the composition) is driven.  The gesture of the rider is more like a feather in a chapeau.  From his early labors, Rodin understood muscles and skeletal structure and weight; the drawing would not be possible without that knowledge.  But the information is buried so deeply that you'd never single it out.  

Rodin drew as simply and naturally as he was able.  Interestingly, as Rodin became more famous and his drawings became simpler, numerous counterfeiters and fakers tried to imitate his work.  There have been museum exhibitions dedicated to distinguishing Rodin's "authentic" loose, airy drawings from the numerous counterfeit loose, airy drawings-- a challenging task.

NEW BOOK FROM JOHN CUNEO (nsfw)

I just received my copy of the new book by John Cuneo, Good Intentions.

Cuneo has a unique voice in American illustration.  When you think about his work, you need a whole different vocabulary: Penetrating.  Scary.  Brave.  Upsetting.  Frank.  Epic.  Scorchingly honest.  How long has it been since such adjectives applied to illustration, or to any drawing for that matter?  

And funny, lord is he funny.

For decades, scientists have searched for a deep salt mine in a remote location where they might safely store weapons-grade plutonium.  Cuneo packages it in tiny spider web lines.

Despite his mostly dark and trenchant observations, there's even a "yes" to be found in this book.  

 Like Cuneo's other books, we get the feeling that he paid a higher price to create it than we pay to receive it.