“We are led to believe a Lie/When we see not through the Eye,” wrote William Blake. But what does it mean to see “through” the eye? Sketching would seem to be a way to approximate the eye’s rapid movements on paper and paradoxically to capture the natural perception in a more permanent form. The sketch is lodged at the intersection of two elements of the visible: the immediate and the permanent. The sketch convinces audiences that less finish, less labor, and less fastidiousness is more aesthetic, and more truthful than a polished work of art. In other words, sketching embodies a conflict between authenticity and rhetoric. On the one hand, the sketch possesses a naturalness, a genuineness, and an immediacy that a polished work of art can never have. The sketch persuades the viewer that less is more. Less finish, polish, labor, formality, and false learning make the sketch more artful. Therefore, by imposing an aesthetic code of its own, the sketch participates in the very art(ifice) it denies. Finally, the labor is displaced onto the viewer, who must make a coherent image from the sketch.
Sketches are experimental processes and explorations into the possibilities that the final work might contain. In this sense, sketching is a free and relaxed search for new expressive possibilities. The sketch is extremely important as a study for the next stage of the development of the artwork. This is particularly true in the case of sculpture, and even more for realistic sculpture. A local sculptor we know spent more than a month lying in a field studying the movements of cattle before even attempting a sculpture of a cow. He would sketch for hours, repeatedly drawing the same elements, over and over. What is the purpose of this seemingly boring activity? By sketching, he was studying the form of the cow. We tend to accept that a cow is a common object that does not need study, but this artist would disagree, saying that every shape and form is unique and mysterious. Part of the reason for sketching these forms is to become aware of this mystery and, eventually, to translate it to the canvas or into steel, wood, or marble. THE magazine asked nine local sculptors to show us their sketchbooks and tell us why they make sketches.
My drawings are about finding edges and finding form. The drawings are tactile and are about touching—similar to the way a sculptor touches a form. Michelle Cooke
The sketch is the spark—the foundation of a bigger idea that needs building up to. Lots of times, I see something in a sketch that would or would not work. I can see a finished piece in my mind’s eye, but the sketch is the first bit of reality that allows me to go forward with an idea. Greg Robertson
Initially I make sketches to help me visualize the work. Ted Fleming
Sketching and drawing is like brushing your teeth—it’s a practice for the good health of my art. Stacey Neff
For me, sketching is another way of thinking—it’s a way to develop ideas. Tom Waldron
Though most of my drawings are preparatory sketches for sculpture, I also enjoy the simple practice of sketching objects in museums while wandering through their collections... very careful observations without touch, yet a way to hold an object in my mind to feel the hand of the maker. Tom Joyce
For me, sketching and drawing is a way of thinking and organizing ideas. Take away the sketch and the language is compromised. Dana Chodzko
Having a concept in one’s mind doesn’t prepare one to make a sculpture. You have to work it out on paper first. Once I make a sketch, it’s no longer a fleeting vision. A sketch of a sculpture not yet made is just one view of the thousand views of that sculpture to be. Milton Hebald
I lived with a painter for some years and she could just go in and start painting, sometimes with a sketch but mostly with just an idea. I always envied that. Sometimes I’m allowed to go in the shop and sketch with bits and pieces of metal if I’m very careful not to burn myself or tear my clothes. John Massee
