Drawing from Memory, and Photos

Unicorn Clubtail. Ballpoint Pen and Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

When I first started using birds as my primary subject, about eight years ago, I realized quickly that my wife Jerene, who doesn't consider herself an artist, was far better at drawing from memory. This was most evident in her drawing of our cats but also in her small sketches of birds. This wasn't  a great surprise to me. But it did remind me that I've always been more skilled at drawing what's in front of me, rather than drawing something from memory. I don't tend to internalize shape and structure.

But I have gotten better. I think that's mainly due to doing so many sketches from life, where you really have to pay attention to structure, but also to working from photos, especially when I use them to help understand structure that has not been clear in the field.

The sketches below are all from memory. The Carolina Chickadee was drawn five hours after seeing it at Morris Arboretum as it brought a caterpillar to a youngster. The Eastern Towhee and Common Yellowthroat on the right side of page are based on birds seen at Houston Meadows yesterday, before the rain arrived. The towhee was started a few minutes after seeing it, then amended from other views over the next five minutes. As I recall I didn't do the Common Yellowthroat until I got home. But I was struck by the shape of the bird as it moved around and that's what stuck in my memory.

Common Yellowthroat, Eastern Towhee, et al. Pen sketch from memory by Ken Januski.

All well and good you might say, but So What!? I'm writing about this just because I continue to find the subject of drawing fascinating. And also because I think field sketching and memory sketching is a healthy antidote to the deadly work that is so often based on photos, and nothing else. So often there is no sense of a living thing underneath.

Working from memory I think helps to internalize the bird, or any other subject. The drawings above look a bit clunky. The proportions are off on the two Carolina Chickadee sketches. But next time I see one I'll look a bit more closely. Eventually I'll have an encyclopedia of birds in my memory. I can draw from that encyclopedia any time I wish to do a more developed drawing or painting.

The drawing at top, by contrast, is from a photo. It's based on a dragonfly I'd never seen before a few days ago. We saw very many of them at the Manayunk Canal a few days ago. This was the only one that ever sat still. So I was able to look at it and take some photos. At the moment for almost all dragonflies I need to take photos in order to ID them, though experts will tell you that even this is enough. For most you actually need to catch them and examine some details under magnification.

I'm not sure that we'll ever get that far. But they are fascinating creatures in appearance, history and biology. I won't go into all that here. My main concern is being able to use them as artistic subject.

But they seem to be even more susceptible to the constraints of photography than birds. How can you possibly see the detail without photos? Once you do how do you avoid putting down every single vein of the complex venation in their wings? As with birds I think the answer is to understand them well enough that you can internalize them in your memory, then use that to create a shorthand for rendering them.

I still haven't drawn one from either memory or from life. But I plan to change that this summer. In the meantime I've tried to keep a looser style in the ballpoint pen and watercolor sketch above.

As I was out yesterday I noticed many oak and sassafras leaves, particularly on young saplings. Especially with the sassafras I was tempted to sit right down and draw the leaf. They have a magnificent shape. That is another aspect of drawing that I can only touch on here but one that I think is very important, at least to me. Shape! It often seems to me that more than anything else drawing is connected to shape. And yet that is really not true for all art. Look at the more or less shapeless sketches of Seurat. So for some tone and mass are just as important. I value them. But I have to confess that for me drawing is primarily about shape.

I'll stop now but I do think I could write forever about drawing. And also, though so much of my work is abstract or quasi-abstract I do think that shape is at the heart of most of it.

Three Very, Young Green Herons, Downy Head and All

Three downy-headed Green Herons. Pen and Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

...made a well hidden appearance along the Manayunk Canal today. Later we saw their parents, nearby but not all that near. Perhaps they were finding food for the young. I believe these are the youngest Green Herons we've ever seen.

Other highlights included a new dragonfly for us: the Unicorn Clubtail. We saw quite a lot along the canal. Perhaps I'll eventually include one of them in some artwork.

Seaside Sparrow and Marsh Wren at Jake's Landing

Seaside Sparrow and Marsh Wren. Ballpoint Pen and Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

We've stuck around Philadelphia for all our birding this year but finally made a day trip to the Cape May area recently. Unfortunately most of the migrating shorebirds have moved on, though there are always some around. Probably the high point of our day though was very good looks at the very dark, and often well-hidden, Seaside Sparrow as well as the Marsh Wren.

Both were active at Jake's Landing, singing and remaining in sight for a fair period. Above is a quick ballpoint pen sketch, touched up with water from a waterbrush to create some dark tones and then  touched up again with the waterbrush and watercolor.

I never saw the birds together like this though they were within 10 yards of one another. Obviously this is a quick sketch but I never tire of them.

Green Heron and Eastern Pondhawk. Hand-colored Linocut by Ken Januski.

After our return I put the finishing touches on the hand-colored linocut of a Marsh Wren and Eastern Pondhawk seen at Morris Arboretum last year. It is not a style I normally work in. But every once in awhile it's refreshing to try something different, and refreshingly simple. The entire print is 7x9 inches printed on Rives Heavyweight paper.

Winding Up the Hand-colored Linocut

Green Heron and Eastern Pondhawk. Working State of Hand-colored Linocut by Ken Januski.

Green Heron and Eastern Pondhawk. Working State of Hand-colored Linocut by Ken Januski.

I'm winding up, or perhaps down, the hand-colored (with watercolor) linocut of a Green Heron and an Eastern Pondhawk. It's possible I'll make a few small changes, for instance adding color to the leaves in upper left, but I'm nearly done. I have firmly decided not to put any color I the large section of water.

I only noticed when I put these online that the cropped photo on the bottom is completely wrong in terms of paper color. The background color of the water is cream, not white. The full print at top shows the true colors.

I'm not really sure what prompted me to go in this direction. But the more I print the more I realize that there are many directions that one can go. I'll most likely go back to my more abstract style but this is a refreshing break in what is really much more like an illustration than my normal work.

Most likely this will be an edition of 10, or perhaps 11.

Return to Lino, Video and Field Sketch

Green Heron and Eastern Pondhawk. Linocut Proof by Ken Januski

I've finally returned to lino after a fairly lengthy absence. If I wasn't running short of woodclocks I might have started work on a woodblock rather than a linoleum block. But before I forget about the differences between the two it seemed like a good idea to try linocut once again.

This is about the fourth proof of a 4x6 inch print. Right now it's printed on copier paper. It's also based on a photo I took last year of a Green Heron with an Eastern Pondhawk perched a few feet away. Apparently it was far enough away, or just too small, to catch the heron's interest. If I recall correctly I saw it at the Manayunk Canal.

My original intent here was to cut one block more or less realistically printing primarily black outlines. Underneath that I would print abstract blocks of color, mainly for the heron and dragonfly.  But as I worked on it I was reminded of my old Osprey linocut with watercolor. It was a very simple, very small print where I painted each print in watercolor after I'd printed the black outline. It's something that I might experiment with here.

That print, along with my print of nine robins, is one of my most popular in terms of sales. My more ambitious prints artistically often seem to do little in the ways of sales. It seems people like their nature art simple. Or perhaps not. In any case I'm tempted to stop work on this soon, print it, and then add watercolor.

Spotted Sandpiper, Killdeer, Great Blue Heron, Canada Gosling. Field Sketches by Ken Januski.

Yesterday I was also at the Manayunk Canal hoping to see a Spotted Sandpiper. I was shocked to read today that no one knew where Spotted Sandpipers built their nests until the early 1900s when someone hunting eggs for a collector noticed an odd looking bird going high into a robin's nest. Of course it wasn't a robin's nest.

In northwest Philadelphia, not a popular shorebird destination, the shorebirds I see most frequently are Solitary Sandpipers, Spotted Sandpipers and of course Killdeer. At first, particularly in fall, Jerene and I had a hard time separating out the two tail-bobbing shorebirds, the Spotted and the Solitary. But over time I've realized that the Solitary is far more elegant, and the Spotted, at times looks almost comical.

He does look a bit comical I confess in my field sketch above but that's because I made the head far too large for the body. In real life he seems comical both for his quick movements and for the way he moves his legs. The closest analogy I can think of is Groucho Marx when he crouches down low and takes long strides. Recently I saw such a Spotted Sandpiper combining these two movements - long low strides with very quick movements - along some rocks on a tributary of the Wissahickon at Morris Arboretum. It was almost unbelievable and I wished that I had my camera with me so that I could capture it on video.

Since Spotteds seem to frequent the canal I was hoping to find one yesterday. As I looked at and sketched a Killdeer  I noticed other movement, closer to me. When I put down my binoculars I realized that it was a Spotted Sandpiper. So I've included a short video below. Oddly enough my relatively inexpensive point and shoot camera is good at taking videos, at least in my estimation. When we saw the Scissor-tailed Flycatcher in Philadelphia last year and I was taking a video another birder with a much more expensive camera said he thought mine was actually easier to use when taking videos. Who knows? In any case I've found it handy on those rare occasions when I wanted to take a video.

I think it's interesting to compare the visual technologies at work in this post. The most primitive of course, is drawing from life. Though the proportions are off in the Spotted Sandiper I love the sense of life in the drawings. I couldn't resist trying to capture the Canada Goose gosling as it tried to walk, all the while of course trying to avoid the accompanying goose poop, a reason that Canada Geese are not all that popular. The linocut, at least in the rough way I do it, is almost equally primitive. And then of course there is the much more modern video. They all have their place. But as you know it's the first two that are my favorites.

Speaking of Pennants

Halloween Pennant. Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski

There was a time in recent memory when you could say pennant in Philadelphia and people would think about the Phillies. But I'm afraid, barring a miracle, that those days are past. Today when I hear pennant, well at least after today, I think of dragonflies.

Anyone who has looked through field guides, bird, dragonfly or anything else has probably experienced the desire to see one or two particular species in the guide. That's been the case with me and the Halloween Pennant. Today I finally saw one at Morris Arboretum. It's the first pennant I've ever seen and my list of species has now gotten up to about 25 I'd guess. Nothing to brag about but at least enough for me to begin to feel like I know my way around a bit. I'm not totally flummoxed by every one I see.

Though I took numerous photos of dragonflies over the last few days I always hate to rely on them. I prefer always to show a sketch or painting. Above is a smallish 9x12 pencil and watercolor sketch on Stillman and Birn Zeta paper. It's the first time I've tried the Zeta paper for watercolor and it's worked very well.

I always avoid painting every feather when I paint birds. In fact I'd probably have a nervous breakdown if I even tried. It seems better to me to know enough about birds and their feathers to be able to use a shorthand to indicate them. But what do you do with the complex venation of dragonflies? Well I haven't found the answer yet. But the watercolor above includes one attempt. I added white gouache to also indicate many of the highlights in the veins.

Halloween Pennant at Morris Arboretum. Photo  by Ken Januski.

Though I'm fairly happy with the watercolor sketch you can see from the photo above just how much I've failed to capture. Since it is such a beautiful dragonfly I decided I just had to show one photo. The one I saw constantly landed on the top of some 2 foot high vegetation. When I got home and read about pennants I found that's typical, and in fact may be the origin of its name.

Slaty Skimmer at Manayunk Canal. Photo by Ken Januski.

Another truly beautiful dragonfly I saw for the first time in the last few days is the Slaty Skimmer above. There is a purple cast to its abdomen that makes it a very striking dragonfly. Though the body is completely black the abdomen is affected by what is called pruinosity , a type of bloom that lightens the color of many dragonflies. I think its soberly elegant slaty black/purple is the perfect complement to the colorful oranges of the Halloween Pennant.

Eastern Amberwing at Manayunk Canal. Photo by Ken Januski.

The second smallest dragonfly in the Eastern US, at least from what I've read, is the Eastern Amberwing. Above is one of the best photos I've ever gotten of it. About a year ago Jerene and I tried to see it as it landed in the water in front of us. But we just couldn't get a good view. And the photos were too small to be much help. The one thing I noticed is that it reminded me of the small planes you tend to see in early movies, biplanes I think. And there was an occasional glint of amber. Now that I have a better photo I see why it reminded me of a biplane. It has both short wings and torso, unlike most dragonflies.

Widow Skimmer at Morris Arboretum. Photo by Ken Januski.

And speaking of elegance above is the Widow Skimmer. Who would have thought that black and white could be so striking?

I don't like to show photos as most readers know. But I've seen such a wealth of handsome dragonflies recently that I decided to succumb to the temptation. Back in the studio I'm still trying to figure out what the next linocut will be.

Dragonfly Distractions

Dragonfly Swarm at Dusk. Charcoal by Ken Januski.

We went to a meeting of the Delaware Valley Ornithological Club last week to hear a talk on Is There Life After Birding? We knew the answer since we spend a lot of our time outside looking at things other than birds. Nonetheless it was interesting to see the speaker as well as a number of the audience indicate similar interests.

A few days later we were birding Houston Meadows and I had to recall the talk. We were seeing not only interesting birds and dragonflies, but also butterflies and wasps. I believe it was that same night, almost at dark, when Jerene saw huge dragonflies swarming about our backyard. That's what is illustrated at top. Between the dark and the mosquitoes we didn't stay out long. I'd just told someone how rare dragonflies were in our backyard then this to disprove what I'd just said!

I still haven't identified these large dragonflies. Based strictly on shape I might guess Common Green Darner. But there is the oddity of the night flight. I don't think they're known as a night flyer. Is it a crepuscular species, one that flies mainly at dusk? We saw a couple more last night but couldn't stay out. Tonight or tomorrow we'll try to be better prepared and see if we can identify them, assuming that they're still here. 

Female Blue Dasher. Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski

The day after the night flight we were of  course keeping our eyes open for large dragonflies. We saw none but we did see this small beauty. I was able to get within a few inches to photograph it ( I've learned with dragonflies to shoot a picture first then try to sketch because they rarely sit still). Of course this one sat there for at least 15 minutes, then returned that same evening. What a beauty it was and obviously one we'd never seen before. Or so I thought. As I neared the end of Dragonflies and Damselflies of the East I finally found it, a female Blue Dasher. The shape of the abdomen should have given me a clue. It's a distinctive shape as far as I can tell. But the colors were all wrong. As with birds the males and females of the same species sometimes differ greatly in appearance.

As I read about it I read that it is called a Dasher because of its quick movements. So what explains the fact that it sat in one place for at least 15 minutes? Does the dashing refer to quickness of movement not frequency of movment? Only more study will tell.

In any case this seems to have been the week of dragonflies. Every day it seems we've seen new ones or seen old ones anew. It's amazing to me how exciting this can be. And then of course there is the thrill of trying to portray them in art. The watercolor above is just a quick study in the wonderful Stillman and Birn Gamma sketchbook. As usual I'm amazed at how well I can draw, and erase, in these books. The paper is a bit thin for a finished watercolor, at least if you keep working on it as I do, but it's perfect for studies. As I've said before I think they are a great addition to the artist's toolkit. With my recent printmaking I've not used them. But it was nice to pull them out for all the sketches on this page. I'm sure you'll eventually seem some prints featuring dragonflies.

Piping Plover. Watercolor Sketch by Ken Januski.

I'm very happy with my recent Sapsucker print and I think that a large reason for that is the underlying sketch. I think it does really capture some of the poses of Sapsuckers. With that in mind I've looked through all of my photos recently, trying to find one where I might do a charcoal or pencil sketch that really captures the sense of a bird and its movements. That was my attempt here with the Piping Plover. I don't think it's successful enough to form the basis for a new print. But I thought it worth showing just as an indication of where my prints might be going............

And finally a belated birthday to one of the greatest draftsmen ever, Rembrandt van Rijn. Thanks to Google for pointing out that yesterday was his 407th birthday. I recently read a book on Ukiyo-e prints that suggested that Rembrandt and Hokusai were probably the two best draftsmen in all history. I suspect that the author is correct.

A Dragonfly a Day

Widow Skimmer. Watercolor sketch by Ken Januski

The woodcut/linocut/reduction linocut went a bit awry yesterday so I took a break and organized my collection of dragonfly photos, including some new ones from the last few weeks. As I looked at them I remembered part of what I found so fascinating about drawing insects when I did so quite a few years ago.

There is a complexity and elegance of structure that's just very desirable to put down on paper. Unlike birds or most animals there aren't any soft, furry, feathery areas that are indistinct and hide the structure. Insects have very visible structures.

It's hard to understand the appeal of this but it may just be something natural to drawing. i.e. drawing is more often about lines than anything else and insects are full of them. Of course with dragonflies there is something extra. They often have the most striking patterns in wings, body or both. Here it's the velvet blacks and blazing white of the wings of this Widow Skimmer that stand out.

I started paying attention to dragonflies and damselflies a year or two ago but it's only now that I can accurately (I think!) name more than ten of them. Naming twenty would be a great stretch. Above is a photo of the first Widow Skimmer I've ever seen. We saw it at Morris Arboretum over the past few weeks. It's a fairly common dragonfly I think and it's also a member of one of the most visible families, the Skimmers. So it's not rare. But it sure is a beauty.

About a month ago I was contorted in a somewhat odd position to take a photo of an unknown butterfly along the Wissahickon. Two runners went by and said "Weird!" as they did so. I suppose it can seem odd to some, to stop and pay attention to the beauty and complexity of nature. But then I have to ask just what is it that others find so much more interesting than nature? I'm sure there are plenty of things. At one point in my life I might have also found them quite interesting, far more so than birds, butterflies and dragonflies. But today I'd just say '"Weird!".

By the way I'm not really starting a  Dragonfly a Day project. These types of projects seem popular online, at least from what I can see. But it is something I could easily see someone more focused on dragonflies than myself taking up! They offer a lot to both viewers and artists.

Those Dragonflies

In my last post I mentioned taking some photos of dragonlfies. Recently I've been looking through my photos and just couldn't resist trying some sketches.I last did insect sketches 10-15 years ago. What a difference time makes! In those I had to draw the insects under a dissecting microscope. That was the only  way to see enough detail. I also had to kill them in a killing jar in order to study them.

Today I can take digital photos while they're still alive and active. The magnification is equal to that of the dissecting scope I used to use. Of  coures I can't move them around to see hidden parts and understand the structure better. Without my memory of structure from those old drawings these photos might be not quite as useful.

In any case I've greatly  enjoyed doing these. They are all on Moleskine A4 Sketchbook paper and all done with  a Caran d'Ache ballpoint pen. One thing I immediately remembered as I did them was why  I love drawing insects: they are a marvel of structure and shape and they allow an artist to bring to  bear many skills.

Drawing the nude is mainly an exercise in curvilinear shapes. Drawing from nature often involves amorphous, undifferentiated shapes, at least when it comes to most foliage and many landscapes. Hard edges are there but not all that often and if so broken up by  softness, for instance in tree trunks and the foliage that hides them. But with insects you  can have the sweeping elegant curve of a wing  coupled with  the hard edges of the limbs or thorax.

As I've drawn these I found that I couldn't resist trying to capture the shapes of the thorax and head, even when they were hidden by wing and bad photography. One of the appeals of naturalistic drawing, at least for me, is rendering the complexity of three dimensions into two dimensions. I love doing this and sometimes wonder if it's not almost a primitive desire, a evolutionary remnant of early days in the life of man. There is something so satisfying about getting down the structure of something. In any case, before I waft way in the ether, this is one of the things I enjoy about drawing insects.

And of course dragonflies are beautiful as well as having a fascinating life history if you care to study it. Many people will of course love dragonflies for their color, pattern, movement. I do too. But for now it's time to get their structure down. Perhaps in the future I'll be able to sketch them live and add color, trying to  get many of their striking qualities captured all at once.

The sketch at top includes, at least as best I can tell, a Blue Dasher and Eastern Pondhawk. The sketch at bottom has the ubiquitous, at least at Morris Arboretum, Twelve-spotted Skimmer and an unidentified damselfly.