Most of the time, when I’m working on a project that requires something of me physically, but allows my mind to wander – gardening, painting, cleaning, drawing, walking – I put on music or listen to a podcast or audiobook. But sometimes, I give my mind quiet to see what thoughts bubble to the surface. One day, as I was painting in a quiet studio, I thought about Vincent Van Gogh and his struggle with draftsmanship. He was on my mind a lot lately since I had been listening to a marathon audiobook biography on his life. (I finally finished it a couple of weeks ago, by the way!)
He received a lot of criticism for his out-of-proportion figures, clunky faces, and wonky buildings. He knew it was a struggle, and he practiced fanatically to improve. He started using the grid method, but since he painted from life, he used a large wooden “perspective frame” with a grid made from taut string. He hauled it around with him, set it in front of his subject, and used it to render more accurate proportions. It improved his proportions, but even in some of his later work, created long after he adopted the perspective frame, they still look off. They certainly don’t look true to life, not only due to his vibrant color choices but also because a face doesn’t look like a realistic face. A tree bends in an unnatural way. Clouds swirl, and furniture looks like it shouldn’t be able to stand upright.
I was thinking about this as I was stressing over the dog portrait I painted. Were all the light and shadow shapes correct? Was the likeness good enough? Did it look like that specific dog, not just a similar dog?
And then I thought about the distinct wonkiness of Van Gogh’s work. It’s what makes his work his. We can see in hindsight that the imperfections in his work that were brutally criticized and that he was so distraught over were a strength, a hallmark, and what makes his work stand apart.
I can relate to Van Gogh in that I stress about my draftsmanship. It’s the weakest part of my art process, and I often don’t trust myself with it. I practice. I use tools to check for accuracy, to double-check my drawings, to speed up the part of the process that makes me antsy. But I still feel self-conscious about it.
As I was dwelling on these things, one question rose to the top. Am I missing out on the personality and character that would be unique to my work by being too concerned about the accuracy of a drawing?
I tend to elongate things when I draw freehand and don’t measure. I make cups and vases taller and skinnier than they actually are. I know this because I always have to correct it. Make things a little wider and a little shorter. In landscapes, I always bring the background too far forward, losing the illusion of depth. I’m aware of it, and I still do it. I fight it, try to fix it, but I still do it.
A larger part of me, the part of me that always wins out, sees all of those tendencies as things I need to correct. They are flaws, errors, and shortcomings. Signs that I’m still far from being a great artist. But there is a small part of me that wonders if I’m fighting against the very things that make my work mine. What if I leave the cup too tall and too skinny? What if I lean into flattening landscapes?
As another example, Picasso was an excellent draftsman. He was a prodigy. It’s his faces that are drawn entirely wrong, though, that made his name in the art world.
I also realize this line of thinking doesn’t just apply to art. On a daily basis, AI-powered grammar software “fixes” my writing tendencies. I can see those tendencies more clearly than I ever could before because they are constantly underlined in blue. It’s not a grammatical error, but something that could be said in a cleaner, more concise, and precise way. I realize my fountain pen never interrupts my creative flow to tell me I could write I know it instead of I’m aware of it in the sentence above. Is that software stripping away what makes my writing mine?
It extends well beyond art in the way social media algorithms push us into sameness, real estate specialists tell us to paint our walls white or beige, and clothing companies dictate what is stylish. It’s easy and natural to strive for conventional perfection, but I do think we are collectively stripping away some of the personality that makes things unique, quirky, distinct, and even genuine.
So, I’m left with this… Yes, I want to continue to grow as a draftsman. I do want places to look like real places and portraits to have a strong likeness. But I also want to give myself more room to allow my natural tendencies to make their appearance and explore them a bit more. I also want to allow that in the creativity of others, giving space for their personality and imperfections.
I hope you’ll do the same.
20 Responses
thank you for this post….art with heart. By the way…I have only finished Chapter 1 of your new book and I just love it, leaves me hanging on the last word and anxious for the next. I see myself re-reading again and again.
I agree – the many tools available to us may subtract the individuality that elevates our work to art. The AI grammar corrections can turn our written dialogue bland and robotic. A photographically accurate correction of our draftsmanship, may alter the unique expression of the way our eyes and intellect view the world – the sharing of which is precious.
Your thoughtful posts, books, art and blog have enhanced my life in many ways. Thank you Marian!
Oh this is good, Marian! Especially spoke to me about the writing. We don’t want to all sound and look alike. I like that you say “I’m aware of it” rather than “I know it.” It’s you.
Keep the quirks!
Best of luck to you and all of your future endeavors. I have enjoyed the renovations and design on your blog. I tuned into your blog when I was very sick in 2020 and besides rekindling my interest in design it took my mind off of what I was dealing with at the time. Thank you so much. I am still decorating. I have a couple of your prints that I ordered a few years ago from Society6 and I still enjoy one of your books that I bought.
Thank you so much, and I hope you’re enjoying good health now!
I agree. The cookie cutter approach to arts, crafts, writing or any creating can stifle what makes each of us unique. Perhaps your sketchbooks capture your “uncorrected work” better than your commercial products. Since they are just for you, I hope you never give up those sketchbooks, color studies, and whatever other works you tuck away from public view. They are You in your unfiltered form I hope. ❤️
So true. There is a time and place for perfection such as illustration, when perfect measurement is important. But for the most part, if you want a perfect copy, there is a camera for that. Real art, from the artists hand shows emotion. Be original.
Yes, exactly that! While I can appreciate photorealism, I feel like it’s a bit redundant since a camera can already do that. I love seeing the artist’s interpretation of something.
Wonderful post~
My beginner watercolor class teacher reminded us often that in nature “you want to give the illusion” and that gave me freedom not to be perfect but to portray an idea of…
I can’t wait for your book arrive on my doorstep. From what I’ve read.. for me, it will be a very slow, thoughtful read.
Happy almost Fall Marian,
Cynthia
This is a great post because as a builder, I listened to a client say to the architect and decorator to explore and share other ideas beyond the AI version of solutions which has been distilled to Modern Farmhouse – which is not appropriate for this client’s home. The client had to ask to see more ideas beyond what they perceived as derivative. AI is not doing us any service in this way – We must strive to maintain our independent thoughts and ideas and not be sucked into the matrix by algorithyms.
I journaled this long ago and thought I’d share…
Art of any form is the most sacred thing to the artist. Not because of the art itself, but rather the vulnerability the artist feels at every stage of the creation. Your art is your soul…the deepest parts of yourself recorded. It’s your struggles, pains, joys, exasperations and triumphs displayed for someone other than yourself. And all of those are what make it beautiful.
Keep being courageous!
Beautiful. Thanks for sharing.
Oooh, thank you for this! As a writer and gardener, this speaks to me.
PS: Long ago I started a novel about 19th century rival painters. I think I’m going to use your/Van Gogh’s struggles for one of them, if you don’t mind! (If I ever get back to working on that novel… heh.)
Sure, go for it!
If we talk about Picasso, he started totally differently. His blue phase is exact. Picture like. His art changed as he changed. Cubist and colourful, until only lines remained. Art evolves, and we are our own worst critics. Van Gogh never gave himself that time. Just 2 years. All the while Picasso had almost 75 years. Most painters and artists go that route. Give it to yourself. Give your art time. Let it evolve.
You are amazing Marian! What a great post on creativity. I live at Smith Mountain Lake in VA and there is an artist named Greg Osterhouse. He paints a lot of cows and there is something so special about his style. One day I walked into a store and there was a painting of a farmhouse and pasture and no cows. But I knew it was an Osterhouse work. He just has that flair! It’s a pleasure to watch you grow as an artist and thank you for bringing us along …
Marian,
What a wonderful post. We all need to be “who we are” first. The little “corrections” should be applied only as we feel is necessary. Your art has always been beyond beautiful in my opinion. I believe it speaks to your artistry and perspective and as a fan I think it speaks to what I look for in a painting or drawing. Personality and warmth.
I have a dog and all of your dog prints appeal to me even if they aren’t of my dog, Bentley.
xx,
Karen B.
I think this is the very reason why more and more of us choose “analog” hobbies and ways of doing things. (I find a pencil to be a wonderful thing!) Part of the joy of pursuing and making art is learning about our own uniqueness. The way we see things, the way we look at things, and why. Those things matter, and they matter more and more as modernity presses us into a homogenous mass. If you’re a pensive person, which you appear to be, you think a lot about these kinds of things 🙂
I am absolutely captivated by the picture of your painting in this article! It feels very Van Gogh-esque but with all the Marian colors and personality I love. Is it by chance a print? I would love to have that to look at every day!
Thank you! It is a Van Gogh study done with my own flair. It is not available as a print since it is a study of another artist’s work.