The first is by Art Lozzi, a background painter for Hanna-Barbera back in the day. He has a beautiful style that made the H-B cartoons in their heyday warm and inviting to look at.
Also, his how-to commentary is a must for any artist, working in any visual medium. Well, maybe not photography, but maybe you ace photographers out there can find some applications for it somehow.
It's clear, concise and practical. Nothing ephemeral or mystical about it. Just smart plain-talk you can understand and put to use. It's stuff you can read and then immediately run and practice, hands on.
I may not be a painter, but I'll probably keep doing some color work and I know I'm gonna be stealin' from this modern day master.
Another one is by John K. himself, where an artist he's worked with copied a painting from a Flintstones Golden Book. She's already so good (I think her drawing rocks) and yet she's still pushing herself to get better. Which is how it should be, because once you become complacent in what you know you are finished, Jack. Finished!
As good as dead.
John gives her a critique that like Lozzi's explanations is specific and immediately useful... very reasoned. It's strong and based on valid, concrete principles.
Clarity. That's what I like about it. Clarity and specifics. John first gives her the good news, then tells her exactly what she did wrong. And she takes it like a pro. You just know her next effort is going to be lightyears ahead of the first one... like I wrote, she's that good!
"This is wrong, this is why, try this instead."
I wish more teachers were into that kind of thing. I had maybe two in my art school days. One was a former army helicopter pilot/Vietnam vet. Maybe being in an actual war eliminated a lot of the touchy-feely indirectness. He could detect bullshit in art. And I know because several times I turned in bullshit and he called me on it, telling everyone in class what I'd done and how. It wasn't telepathy; it was knowledge.
After that I loved his class. I felt I was finally really learning something. Almost everyone else hated it, including his teaching assistant. Art was only felt to them, not something with order or rules.
What people should understand is, this kind of criticism isn't saying you're bad at drawing. It's a learning tool to become better!
Another way to learn is by... guess what... copying. That's right, copying the work others have done as closely as possible. That was part of the point of John K's exercise with this young artist- she'd taken it upon herself to copy a certain piece of artwork exactly, to learn it and master its lessons.
I copied Alex Toth here... and botched it. But
I learned from it. My next effort will be all the
better for having tried.
The resistance to copying as a learning tool? This idea you can't learn anything by imitating what you see, that you must start by being original? That's mere foolishness.
For one thing, there's nothing you're going to do EVER that's completely original. Unless you are some kind of superhuman genius which more than likely you aren't. Sorry to be the one to break the news to you.
And I know I DEFINITELY am not.
For another, every art technique has a precedent that's identifiable. You have to learn them in order to use them properly and that requires copying in some way, shape or fashion. When you're learning shading, more than likely you're trying to shade in some way you saw in a picture you admired, no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise.
It's unavoidable. If you're an artist, you must've at some point seen art of some kind. It's in you. You don't come up with this stuff in a vacuum. There's a saying about not trying to reinvent the wheel, an old cliche. But it's a true one. You don't have to invent it if it's already there.
People forget that in all the "art is subjective" talk, the tools and methodology of art are objective. They exist in history as a body of knowledge to use and learn from. No one goes out to build a house without having first learned how to hammer nails and saw wood and take measurements. And they learn these things by copying what other builders have done. They learn this stuff as a science in a class filled with practicalities.
No one questions it. So should it be with art. Learn what works from people who do things that work. Use what works to then do your own thing. But first principles, baby.
Writing too. If you've read something and it inspired you to become a writer, chances are you're going to imitate it somehow. Rod Serling said all writers start off copying someone. He said he himself started off as a third-rate Hemingway imitator. "Everything I wrote began with 'It was hot,'" Serling said.
Copy in order to learn. It's not that you have to plagiarize or reject what you think are new ideas. It's just that first you must master the basics, the rules. Doctors, athletes, lawyers, cops, pilots, architects, acountants all do this. They learn it until it's internalized and then they do their own thing with it. And people bow to their expertise.
Only the most assinine self-satisfied of idiots would try to perform brain surgery without having gone to medical school and learned the science of it, the nuts and bolts of the profession and how the human body works. We'd slap his ass in jail if he tried it on us or our loved ones.
But every joker with a word processor or pencil in his or her hand thinks they're a genius, inventing new worlds. In effect performing that brain surgery without text, a pilot flying blind, a lawyer with a fool for a client.
They're making their jobs that much harder than they're fooling themselves. Use what the experts have created for you. Don't be afraid to stand on their shoulders.
Copy in order to learn. Put in the time and effort to learn and improve. You can do it. I know you and I'm pretty certain of this. Dammit!
But don't plagiarize. That's a different animal altogether.
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