Why Do Pirates Love Parrots? (14 page)
Read Why Do Pirates Love Parrots? Online
Authors: David Feldman
T
he cliché: Tortured artist, clad in black, paces the room and finally stands in contemplation of his lovely muse. His unruly hair tamed by a beret, with palette in left hand, he surveys his subject with his right arm outstretched, gazing intently at his subject with his right thumb directly in front of him. The gesture seems simultaneously useless and pretentious.
But the experts we consulted gave a thumbs-up to using the thumb, or a reasonable facsimile (most often a pencil tip or a paintbrush) in exactly this fashion. In her essay, “Proportions in Figure Drawing,” (found at http://drawsketch.about.com/cs/drawinglessons/a/drawingintro.htm), About.com’s guide to drawing and sketching, Australian artist and teacher Helen South, explains that the outstretched arm trick is all about determining the proper proportions. For example, an artist will measure the height of a subject by lining it up with a pencil point. The average person is approximately seven and one-half heads tall (including the head). Here’s how South instructs the artist to use this technique:
Remember that the basic unit in figure drawing is the model’s head, from top to chin. Holding your pencil in a fist with the thumb upwards, and arm stretched out fully, close your non-master eye and align the top of your pencil with the top of the model’s head, and slide your thumb down the pencil until it aligns with the model’s chin. There you have the basic unit of measurement on the pencil. Repeat this step whenever necessary.
Now, to find how out how many heads tall your model is, drop your hand slightly so that the top of the pencil is at the chin. Observe carefully the point on the figure that aligns with your thumb—this should be roughly below the breastbone (two heads—you count the head itself ). Drop the top of the pencil to that point, and so on, down to the feet.
Using this rough measurement, artists can draw horizontal lines on the canvas or sketchpad and have a rough blueprint of the appropriate proportions, especially if the artist is careful to always measure from the same point, with the arm totally outstretched, using the same instrument each time.
The artists we consulted confirmed that this technique provides a useful reality check, not only in accurately depicting the size of a subject, but the angles and proportions of different elements in a composition as well. New York artist and graphic designer Joe Giordano wrote us about his approach:
You close one eye to reduce everything to two dimensions and then use the thumb, brush, or pencil to line things up. For example, when drawing from a model in some exotic pose, you can see that an ear is in a direct line with the big toe and the knee lines up with the bent elbow, etc. Working from these points insures that your finished figure will be more or less in proportion since you are sometimes focusing in on details and are in danger of losing sight of the big picture.
Speaking of big pictures, we received a fascinating response from Sean Murtha, a muralist at the American Museum of Natural History. He draws gigantic dioramas for the museum (http://www.amnh.org/exhibitions/permanent/ocean/00_utilities/04b_murtha.php) and though he doesn’t don a beret, he uses the classic technique, but innovates—Sean’s a two-hander!
What a question! I’m actually not a thumb user, but actually prefer my pencil or brush for the task, which I use primarily for establishing verticals and horizontals, rather than proportions. Since a rectangle usually defines a sketching surface, but no such geometry is present in the field, the pencil or brush held at arm’s length introduces that line into one’s field of view, making it easier to gauge the inclination of various edges and lines before you.
Similarly, when establishing a composition, I use both my hands with thumbs extended at right angles to frame my view, blocking out everything but what will appear on the page or canvas. As for how I came to this technique, I have difficulty answering. All I know is that I’ve been doing it for a long time.
Detroit, Michigan artist Karen Anne Klein works on a much smaller scale. Many of her works are still lifes, often created with watercolor and pencil, which is awfully convenient—she has her two “measuring sticks” right at hand. Klein read Murtha’s response and admits that for her, the technique is far from scientific:
I don’t use my thumb. I use my pencil or brush. Unlike Sean, I don’t need to frame an image with my hands, as I am usually drawing only one object at a time and the creation of the composition comes from my head and not from the world. Since I am usually working on a single object, the use of the pencil is for determining either proportion or the degree of diagonal lines. Sometimes when I am combining objects that are in cases at the museum, I will use the pencil to compare sizes, but I rather doubt that it actually works since I am moving around. Who knows if I am really at the same distance from the second object?
Redlands, California artist Ruth Bavetta wouldn’t put up with our guff about using a thumb or a pencil as a measuring device. We asked her, “Why not just draw a sketch and see if it coincides with your impression of the subject?” We gave her an example: What if she had to paint a picture of a girl and a ladder? Bavetta insists that no ruler is necessary:
It’s the ratio of sizes that’s important.
But not the ratio of the actual sizes.
You don’t want to know if the ladder is
actually
taller than the kid, but if it
looks
taller from the viewpoint you’re preparing to draw from.
You’re not necessarily drawing by the scale of your thumb. You’re just using it as an informal measuring stick to measure the relative sizes of what you see. Which
looks
taller: the ladder or the kid? And how much taller? Twice as tall? Three times as tall?
It is no more accurate than saying the ladder is 50 percent taller than the child. But what measurement are you talking about when you say that? The ladder may well
be
50 percent taller than the kid, but if it’s far away, and the kid is close, the kid will
look
taller.
The most important lesson in realistic drawing is learning to draw what you
see
instead of what you
know.
It’s easy to be fooled by what you know. Because you know that the ladder is really taller than the kid, unless you make some kind of informal measurement where you stand, you’re probably going to draw that ladder way too big.
Submitted by Nicholas Dollak of Fair Haven, New Jersey.
P
erhaps the majority of prepackaged breads have flat tops, but like reader David Brandt we’ve often wondered why the tops of many loaves look like two arches with a gutter in between. When we have a question about bread or pastries, our thoughts drift to the American Institute of Baking, and when we think of the AIB, we contact Tom Lehmann, the director of bakery assistance who has acquired the nickname, “The Dough Doctor” in the baking and pizza industry. The good doctor swatted this Imponderable aside with aplomb:
I think you are making reference to what the industry calls “split top” bread. This is a type of open top, or round top loaf bread that is split down the center just before it goes to the oven for baking. Small retail bakeries often split the dough using a sharp knife or razor blade, but in large automated bakeries, it is accomplished through the use of a fine pressurized water stream, which cuts into the still soft dough as it moves to the oven.
In some cases, the water will contain a butter flavoring or even butter oil. In this case, the bread might be referred to as butter crust, butter top, or butter split bread…Some production lines that produce split top bread with a name like butter crust will use a type of mechanical blade to split the top of the dough and then immediately afterward, a small amount of butter oil is applied to the split. This results in a darker color at the site of the split and a buttery flavor.
The splitting of the top is [usually] done mostly for appearance purposes. For the most part, consumers have come to associate split top breads with a higher or premium quality bread.
Lucinda Ayers, vice president of Campbell’s Kitchen, confirms Dr. Dough’s explanation. In the varieties that feature split tops, Campbell’s Pepperidge Farm bakers create the channel that runs from end to end down the top of a loaf by the process that Ayers calls “water cutting”:
After the bread dough is in the pan and has gone through the proofing (rising) stage, the dough is puffed up very soft and high. At this point—just before baking—we run the puffed up dough through a stiff stream of water to “water cut” the channel down the back and give the loaf its distinctive shape.
Why bother? Ayers says the reason for the process is “purely aesthetic—it gives the bread a more attractive, home-baked look.”
When we first broached experts with this Imponderable, our own inability to describe the bread tops inadvertently led us to learn more about other types of lumps you see on the top of bread. For example, Kirk O’Donnell, vice president of education at the American Institute of Baking, told
Imponderables
that some bread dough is twisted before it is placed into the baking pan. When the dough rises, the twisting causes lumps. The twisting, according to O’Donnell, “improves the grain and texture of the bread.” Many artisanal bakers don’t
want
a smooth looking exterior, as upscale customers appreciate the imperfections if the bread exhibits the “homeliness of homemade.”
Even more common, lumping is achieved through “docking,” which is the deliberate cutting of the dough just before baking. Like water cutting, the main purpose of docking is aesthetic. O’Donnell explains:
The reason for docking is to control the expansion of the bread in the oven. Most artisan bread is baked without a pan, so the bread tends to “burst” as it expands in the oven. By docking, the bread can expand evenly without bursting.
Pies and pizzas are usually docked, too, ordinarily by piercing the dough with the tines of a fork in several places. Without docking, bakers risk the chance of fissures developing in the finished product, which can lead to unhappy customers. It isn’t easy to alienate a pie buyer, but it can be done.
Submitted by David Brandt, somewhere in Pennsylvania, via the Internet.
