I Walked by a Sora, and Thought of 'The Natural Eye'

Three of my framed mokuhanga prints, about ready to be shipped to 'The Natural Eye' at The Mall Galleries in London.

 

I was walking through our kitchen this morning and saw a photo of a Sora on a calendar on a wall. I had to stop and look. How often do I get a good look at a Sora? What more could I learn about if from what I saw? Wouldn't it be great to be able to draw it from life again? All of those thoughts reminded me of something else I've been thinking about recently, all the various reasons to draw, and also this year's annual exhibition of the Society of Wildlife Artists' called 'The Natural Eye 2026.'

I have been showing at this juried exhibition since 2011, with a couple of off years early on where VAT requirements were just too complicated for me. It is always a thrill to have some of my work accepted for the show, and it is equally thrilling to actually see the show, just once in person in 2018 though that included 5-10 visits, but most of the time through online view by Mall Galleries and other online coverage. You walk out with a spring in your step.

I've often tried to explain why this is really the only exhibition I really care about getting into. I'm not sure about how successful I've been. But seeing the Sora on the wall got me thinking about it. If you've never actually seen a Sora I think, at least if you're interested in birds, you woiuld like to see one. But if you're an artist you'd like to see it well, and you'd like to see it well enough and long enough to see all the things that you find necessary in order to portray it. For me it always comes down to structure. How does the entire bird fit together. How does the bill relate to forehead and chin? Where is the eye in relation to bill? How does the head curve in the back? What is the conglomeration at the back of ther bird? Are the primary feathers and tail feathers in there somewhere? For me if you don't understand the structure on any bird, both generally and specifically, then you will have a hard time being accurate. 

 For me I'm also concerned with color. So as an artist you ask yourself what colors are there? What type of yellow would use for that bill. Where does the black near eye come in and how extensive is it? How does it relate to the other colors, including the grayish violet, and all the rich browns? I could go on and on. And then there is the marking on plumage. What color are they, where do they begin and end, are they too small even to paint without looking labored? For many artists this plumage detail seems to be the main thing. It is definitely not for me. But I understand how mesmerizing it can be.

But if you've seen many sora, or any bird actually, you, or at least I, have to think about movement? I almost physically empathize with the weight distribution of bird, almost feeling the stretch as it reaches out for possible food. Maybe that sense of movement is more important than plumage. It is for me.

And of course there is the environment that holds the bird. Reeds and mud, often for soras, with dark water often extending back into the reeds. A million other environments for a million, more or less, other birds. What do you do about them? It is a challenge you want to avoid or maybe something equally as interesting, at least to the artist, as the bird itself?

And all of this more or less supposes you want some sort of 'realistic' portrayal. Maybe you don't.

Brushpen and waterbrush sketches of Megachile bees, based on my photos. Copyright 2026 by Ken Januski

Most of the edition of 'Warbling Vireo, Common Yellowthroat and Wilson's Warbler at Roxborough Reservior' mokuhanga. Copyright 2026 by Ken Januski

Brushpen, waterbrush and watercolor sketch of Sachem Skipper. Copyright 2026 by Ken Januski.

Brushpen and waterbrush sketch from life of Carolina Wren on  our feeder. Copyright 2026 by Ken Januski.

What I"m trying to get at, even with a photo of a bird on a wall, let alone a live bird, is that there are an incredible number of decisions an artist can make about how to portray the bird. I've just listed some. In the tiny sketch of the Carolina Wren above I think it is done. What more could I possibly add to it without stripping the life from it? The same is true to some extent of the watercolor from a photo of the Sachem Skipper above it. What more could I do without making it a bit lifeless? But some people would like more detail, possibly enough detail that it might help them identify it, as in a field guide. This is a real goal of some artists, but it is not mine. But it's still a legitimate goal of many artists. And many artists desire some sort of accurate portrayal, one that satisfies their own artistic desires, but isn't really something to use as an aid to identification.

My point is that there are just so many different methods and goals an artist can have when portraying wildlife.  I don't know of any other exhibition that even comes close to showing that variety, ands showing it at a high level, as 'The Natural Eye.' There is a feeling of great accomplishment in accuracy of realistic portrayal with more traditional means, and there is great accomplishment of equal accuracy with completely nontraditional means. There is art that covers an incredible variety of 'wildlife' subjects, subjects that I'm sure some of the audience at the show has never even seen portrayed in art before.

And as the prospectus says more or less, it would like art that captures the spirit of the natural world. That is more than just plumage detail though that can be part of it. But people who spend time outside, who see the natural world and appreciate it, can also sense it in art in front of them. There is art that is only based on a photo and there is an art that indicates a real understanding and appreciation of nature, even if it sometimes has the 'accuracy' of a photo. I think that is why you, or at least, I left the show I saw in person with a spring in my step. It is a joyous show, celebrating nature in all its forms.

Brushpen and waterbrush field sketch of local Peregrines. Copyright 2026 by Ken Januski.

Brushpen and waterbrush field sketch of local Peregrines. Copyright 2026 by Ken Januski.

Brushpen, waterbrush and watercolor sketch of Wilson's Warbler from my photo. Copyright 2026 by Ken Januski.

Partial edition of 'Cedar Waxwings in Junipers' mokuhanga. Copyright 2026 by Ken Januski.

Brushpen and waterbrush sketch from life of Northern Cardinal outside studio window in rain. Copyright 2026 by Ken Januski.

In showing so much of my own work I'm just trying to show the various ways that I approach art, in very quick sketches done in about a minute, to an edition of mokuhanga which often takes 60-80 hours,  and everywhere in between. There are just so many ways to make art based on birds and wildlife.

Once the online gallery of this year's 'The Natural Eye' is available I will post a link here so that readers can see for themselves what I am talking about.

Of course I've forgotten something: the tremendous amount of imagination and creativity in the way that the artists in 'The Natural Eye' decide to portray their subject. Hopefully that will be quite obvious when I put up the link to the show. In many ways it is this imagination and creativity that is the most exciting part of the exhibition!

I should add that I wrote this on a Mac but the Mac and Blogger are at constant odds with one another. So if you see more typos than normal......