I’m just going to ramble on about my sketchbook.
Perhaps the first thing I think about is a long-time acquaintance, David, who has apparently, a mountain of sketchbooks, because he draws in his sketchbook everyday. Imaginary work of great design and inventiveness, containing figures and flowers and all kinds of decorative lines and shapes. I haven’t seen David for years, but I am guaranteed in my mind that he is still drawing in his sketchbook. Every day. Remarkable but true, and I don’t know any other artist who does this with such great consistency. I can imagine that pile of sketchbooks in the future as “The David Collection”, an archival phenomenon of wonder. He does them for himself as far as I can tell.
Sketchbooks are sold by the dozens, and I do wonder about the nature of their use. Are they purchased for an ongoing sketching routine or are they bought because the buyer needed a piece of good quality art paper for some kind of permanent drawing. Ask yourself, in your lifetime, how many people have whipped out their sketchbook, big or small, to show you their sketches? After all they are just sketches, ideas, probably not quite finished, or considered incomplete, or not quite right’ or have a squiggly line which was unintended, and spoiling of the whole thing. They were sketches that seemed important at the time but didn’t actually work out. But that particular page is still in there like a sore thumb amongst all the other ‘nice’ sketches. Or maybe it is very obvious there was failure, not to be admitted to by the page that is now obviously missing. Or horror of horrors, one sketch has places that were erased so many times that you can still see all the ‘mistakes’.
In high school or college all your art teachers or professors insisted on the importance of keeping a sketchbook with you at all times, and actively making regular contributions. But truth has it that one usually gets interesting and original ideas in drousy sleep, or riding on a bus, or in monotonous lengths of a pool. Then, later, when you approach your sketchbook, you have forgotten what they are and a blank page is left wanting.
In fairness it is true that many artists have kept sketchbooks. Leonardo is likely the most famous, but artists like Delacroix, Van Gogh, Gaugin, Turner, Christo, Hopper, and Cezanne did also. But you say they are all men! Yes, well, there were lots of women artists who followed the same tradition, but they are not so readily apparent, nor are their names as familiar, but their sketches are equally astounding in their creative quality and ingenuity. Try out the sketches by Rosa Bonheur for an excellent example, also Betye Saar, and Marie Cassat. There are also sketchbooks with lovely drawings by Beatrix Potter. An article in The Blue Review by Trek Lexington in 2017 entitled “Artist’s Sketchbooks That Will Change Your Life…” will vault you into the present with samples from various sketchbooks. The drawings are incredible. I digress.
Personally, I do keep a sketchbook, but the sketches contained there are not ideas recorded to be used at a later date. The sketches are the end result, the sole reason for being, perhaps a record of time and place, and in the long run a pleasant reminder of time spent in an artistic manner. For the most part my sketches are done at the beach where there are always many people to use as subject matter. Perhaps it is my own history of life drawing that lends me to the beach scenes because the people there assume all kinds of poses and their clothing is skimpy like that of a partially clothed model. Drawing the human figure is the penultimate in a drawing challenge so it is never a boring artistic exercise. And, of course, it is rare that a beach body stays in a position for longer than five minutes. So, my sketchbooks are full of drawings that are done in a relative hurry, not neat, capturing position and meaning from a fleeting moment. Excellent composition is often a matter of luck rather than judgement. There is no turning back, and I can’t remember ripping out a page! Indeed, my reputation depends on it because my sketchbook is me in plain view. Nobody ever asks to see my sketchbook, perhaps because for them it is too personal a question. And on that point, I don’t show it around much either. Maybe you keep a sketchbook?
Peter Marsh, April 21, 2024
