David Hockney Shines a Light on the True Methods of Master Painters

 

Secret Knowledge: Rediscovering the Lost Techniques of the Old Masters – David Hockney (2001)

 

            Sometimes it takes an artist to understand another artist.  Oftentimes, it takes an artist with an inquisitive mind to penetrate another artist’s methods and techniques.  As an artist myself, I know how other artists view art.  We look at the work itself but we are also deeply concerned with how the work was created.  This is similar to how normal people can appreciate a beautiful car, but it takes a trained mechanic to understand the beauty inherent in the interior workings of the vehicle, something not evident to the casual fan.  David Hockney, a world-famous artist, and one of the few modern creators still obsessed with drawing, used his artist’s eye to penetrate the obscurities and purposeful deflections of master painters, realizing, after careful study, that the revered classic painters, figures such as Ingres, Vermeer, and Caravaggio, among many others, were not drawing their subjects free-hand.  Instead, it was plain to Hockney’s modern eye that these magnificent draughtsmen utilized mechanical aids such as lenses, mirrors, and the camera obscura, to perfect their paintings and drawings. Once this idea entered Hockney’s mind it would not leave, sending him on a years-long course of research, practice, and study.  The fruition of the idea is this amazing book.

            Hockney understands that an artist lives within the means allowed during the times they happen to live in.  For Hockney, this means that he has color reproductions, printers, and material readily available.  It is this availability that allowed him to compile his amazing “wall,” a collection of images sorted chronologically on a long studio wall, which allowed him to first “see” the enormous influence exerted by the technologies of the looking glass, the mirror, and the camera obscura on the great master painters.  This is critical to understanding how Hockney arrived at his idea, and it leads into the first section of the book, showcasing the visual evidence he gathered over a decade, helping to illuminate his thesis.

            Seemingly overnight, sometime in the 15^th century, the images change.  Gone are the flat, carefully observed, painterly images of the old masters such as Poussin or Reubens. Instead, we have Van Eyck’s incredibly rich and detailed Arnolfini Wedding, or Caravaggio’s Judith and Holofernes, works so detailed and seemingly exact, as to feel ultra-realistic, as close to an exact reproduction as art could get until the advent of chemical photography.  The only way this could be achieved would be through the use of a camera obscura, originally just a darkened room with a pinhole on one wall, allowing the bright sunlight from outside to enter the room and shine on the opposing wall, showing a reversed and upside-down image of whatever was outside the room. This was as close to magic as humans ever got!  They were able to see the full range of color and light, as well as seeing the motion of the scene in question.  Imagine it, in a world where images were few and far between, where a master artist worked for years to learn to capture likeness, shape and form, to have a simple contraption display a magical light show must have seemed pure fantasy. 

            Hockney’s suggestion that the old master painters utilized such mechanical aids shook the art and art history worlds.  The art dogma proclaimed loudly that the true genius of artists such as Vermeer lay in their uncanny ability to capture likeness without anything as pedantic and common as a lens, mirror, or other such device.  To imagine their use of a camera obscura would only detract from their esteem.  This is a deeply rooted fallacy, which Hockney points out exists solely because most art historians are not creators of art.  In the intervening quarter-century since David Hockney released this book, his observations have gained much traction, especially among his fellow artists.

As Hockney states several times, the paint does not apply itself.  The marks created by a painter using a camera obscura serve as points of departure, allowing an artist to achieve very close likenesses of a human sitter, for example.  Free-hand drawing, what artists call “eyeballing,” is a process whereby the hand of the artist seeks the proper contours and spatial relations of the scene he is painting.  X-ray photography of such works can show how an artist moved an element of the painting, adjusted a position, or completely removed an aspect of the image.  These markings and underdrawings are not found in the highly detailed images from Vermeer, Ingres, Caravaggio, or any of the other artists using a camera obscura device.  Instead, there are basic scrapings or markings, detailing the main points of a figure, or the relation of the nose to the face in a portrait.  This makes the finished work seem as if it was created whole out of thin air, with little to no preparation!  This was only possible with the use of a mechanical aid.

The first section of this book details the visual evidence discovered by Hockney.  From spatial distortions, only producible by the use of a lens, to issues of relative size between the heads of sitters and their bodies, to the flatness created by such projections, which became a stylized flatness in the works of the major artists, Hockney points out countless examples of each, in vivid color, and invites us to make our own observations.  As an artist myself, once seen, these examples cannot be unseen. 

Hockney describes the progress of the mechanical aids and how, using a lens and mirror, the camera obscura allowed for more complex paintings.  For example, in Hans Holbein’s masterpieces, Hockney shows how each section, exquisitely detailed, was composed individually, using the tolls mentioned above.  This gives the paintings a cohesive, focused nature very pleasing to the eye, but close reading by a trained eye can see the perspective shifts, and the diverted angles which come from such technique.  Another “sign” of the camera obscura is the rise of chiaroscuro, or the treatment of bright light and deep shadow within paintings.  Before the use of the devices, paintings did not use shadow to mold the shape of the subjects, instead using color and line.  In fact, most pre-1400’s European painting matched what we see in Indian or Chinese paintings, a focus on form and color, with no shadows portrayed whatsoever.  It is these shadows that Hockney intuited arose from the bright light (essentially full sunlight) needed for the proper functioning of a camera obscura.  Painters were now obsessed with light and shadow, and capturing near-perfect likenesses of people and nature.  It was not until hundreds of years later, when the chemical photograph managed to capture light and form for posterity, that the painting world retreated from pure representation, moving into wild new fields such as Fauvism, Cubism, and Abstract Expressionism, attempting to do with paint what could not be done with the camera.

The second part of this book deals with the textual evidence gathered by David Hockney to support his claims.  The older examples can be a bit vague, for each artist and craftsman was deeply suspicious of others and would never share the secrets of their trade with anyone for fear it would be stolen or used erroneously.  Roger Bacon, artist and scientist extraordinaire, wrote in Of Art and Nature that,

“The cause of…concealment among all wise men is the contempt and neglect of the secrets of wisdom [sic] by the vulgar sort that knoweth not how to use these things which are most excellent.” 

This is as true now as it was in the 13^th century when Bacon wrote it.

The third part prints out much of the correspondence between David Hockney and fellow artists, historians, etc., all discussing the ideas found in this book, from conception to publication.  It gives a great timeline, and allows the reader to travel along with Hockney as he gains certainty and wisdom concerning his idea.  It is a great coda to this amazing book.  Hockney also shares an extensive bibliography, perfect for people like me, seeking more reading material.

This may be the single greatest art history book I have ever read.  It reads like a mystery and the images are perfectly chosen to elucidate Hockney’s writing.  Perhaps we need to return to a time when art history was written by actual artists, instead of historians.  The insights found by David Hockney may only be the tip of the proverbial iceberg.  Once our preconceived ideas about how “artistic genius” functions are discarded, we can better see how these magnificently creative artists captured our world in their art.  To demean an artist for using a tool says more about the person laying judgment than it does about the creative individual.  No mechanical aid can teach how to lay down paint, or how to draw, or how to create mood and feeling in an artwork.  Those things come directly from the artist themselves, their hard work, and their imagination.  David Hockney has done all artists a great service.  This book should be required reading for anyone studying art or art history. 

(This book can be purchased here: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/secret-knowledge-david-hockney/1112571044 )

Don S. Lemons Describes the Importance of Drawing in the Discovery of New Scientific Concepts

 

Drawing Physics: 2,600 Years of Discovery from Thales to Higgs – Don S. Lemons (2017)

 

            Small books are joyful books!  While I adore an imposingly thick reference work, dense and packed with information, I find great joy in the relatively small, concise, and engrossing books such as Drawing Physics, by Don S. Lemons.  The trick to these books is that they must be hyper-specific, or else the thread is lost and the writer loses focus.  Don S. Lemons cleverly designed this book to move forward, not only chronologically, but in the levels of scientific complexity.  The overarching idea explores the invaluable use of drawn imagery by scientists to either describe a previously unknown property of our universe, or to create a visual symbol of the scientific experiment or idea being described.  It is very clever, and builds upon itself, helping guide the reader through topics and ideas in the world of physics as they were developed and theorized, from antiquity to the modern day.

            If any book could claim to embody the old dictum, “a picture is worth a thousand words,” it is this one.  The simple drawings lead to very complex ideas.  Lemons succinctly describes each individual scientist’s life, and their educational and cultural backgrounds, providing a foundation for the amazing discoveries discussed in each chapter.  It is still eye-opening to understand how much our human ancestors managed to deduce and intuit, using just the observed details of the world around them.  We humans are a magnificent thinking creature.  Our ability to think is only rivaled by our ability to share our thoughts and conclusions.

            Whereas previously, humans only shared their knowledge orally, forcing students to memorize whole epic poems and philosophical treatises on nature, the advent of writing allowed humanity to pass on knowledge across time and distance.  The combination of drawn images and the written word?  It is likely the single greatest synthesis in human existence.  Much like the “thought experiments” used by scientists to imagine situations which are difficult to describe in words alone, the drawings in this book allow the reader to create a mental image, helping one understand the deeper meaning behind the formulas and theories described within.  Sometimes an image can provide an example of an inalienable truth of our universe, even though there are not yet words to describe the actual internal workings. 

            That is the beauty in art.  It provides communication between minds in an instant manner.  Even a simple doodle can express ideas so vast and complex that people could not understand them without the imagery.  Art also communicates across language barriers.  A beautiful painting or sculpture can be appreciated without language.  A diagram of a triangle, its angles, and the relationship between them, conveys knowledge across the centuries, much like Pythagoras and the theorem named after him.  Don S. Lemons has put together an amazing little book, valuable to anyone interested in the progress of scientific thought, and in the creative ways which scientists portray their discoveries.  I felt inspired and uplifted, in awe of the creativity and intellect of my fellow human beings.  Highly recommended.

(This book can be purchased here: https://mitpress.mit.edu/9780262535199/drawing-physics/ )

The Great Ralph Steadman Shares His Love for Leonardo da Vinci

 

I, Leonardo - Ralph Steadman (1983)

(Readers of RXTT’s Book Journey may have noticed a lack of new reviews on the blog.  The end of 2023 was a brutal time for the RXTT household.  What should have been a time of joy, just after celebrating our wedding anniversary, became one of the lowest points of my life.  Soon after my dogs and I fought back against a vicious pit bull attack, an extremely traumatic event in and of itself, my employment situation became untenable, after five-plus years of exemplary work.

As you may imagine, these events brought me to a low place, and reading, absorbing and writing about books became somewhat of an afterthought.  Apart from the love and support of my wife, which is always treasured, what pulled me out of the melancholia was my novel, IN CRED.  I had completed the bulk of it in 2023, but the first part of 2024 was spent finalizing it and getting the book published.  It is available here.  The joy of creation is infectious, and by July my novel was in the hands of many readers.  At the same time, after months of looking, I secured a new position.  As a book lover, I always fantasized about working in a library.  The very idea of it fills me with bookish glee.  The fact that the library is an exceedingly beautiful one is just overkill.  As one of my gurus, Robert Anton Wilson once said, the journey to enlightenment must always pass through “castle perilous” first, meaning nothing worthwhile, whether in life, spirituality, or psychedelia, comes without experiencing the bottom edge of fear and despair.  If it wasn’t for the brutal slap-down life gave me in late 2023, I would not be where I am now, in late 2024.  I hope to renew my regular book review postings, and share with you some of the amazing books I now have access to.

Thanks for your continued support. – RXTT)

 

Sometimes serendipity brings one access to a previously desired item.  I have spent the past decades in deep admiration of one Ralph Steadman, an English gentleman whose artwork is crazed and transgressive, and whose collaborations with my favorite journalist, Hunter S. Thompson, blew my mind apart as a young man.  Steadman’s illustrations combine high draughtsmanship with visceral experimentation, often exposing the inner horrors normally disguised by people’s outward appearances.  When people ask me who my favorite visual artist is, my answer is Ralph Steadman.

After my initial exposure to Ralph Steadman’s art, I saw him as a kindred spirit and a personal muse.  I looked to find as many of his books as I could.  The one book I wanted but was never able to collect was his first one, I, Leonardo.  My new employment has afforded me the greatest of gifts, the ability to check out and absorb I, Leonardo, directly from the library shelves!

As a young man, Ralph Steadman was fascinated by Leonardo da Vinci, as I am and I am sure many other fellow artists are.  He is a fascinating individual, especially once you read about the world he lived in and the insane life he led.  Ralph Steadman’s first contact with Leonardo da Vinci was a fortuitous occasion, where he found a paperback copy of Leonardo’s notebooks, a near-perfect amalgam of art, science, and genius, loved and cherished by Steadman to this day.  In I, Leonardo, Steadman created a magical work, using his own unique art to portray the events of Leonardo’s life, while the text functions as if the artist himself relates his life story. It is a clever conceit, and one that works well.  I soon found myself lost in the ever-troubled world of Renaissance Italy.

As Leonardo ages and tells his story, his inventiveness and mechanical ingenuity come to the fore.  From an early age, he devised contraptions to aid in the manual labors of the home, to better understand the natural world around him, and sometimes to create frivolous fun in a world severely lacking in such.  He describes making extra money because he could easily achieve great likenesses with his drawing skills.  After a lengthy apprenticeship, he began to look for commissions, slowly building up his network of friends, patrons, and cohorts.

Many of Leonardo da Vinci’s commissions were never completed, or at least he never thought them good enough for his personal taste.  This was largely due to the volatile times in which he found himself.  Artists always lived and died by their patronage, and in the Italian states of the 15^th century, those in power rarely retained their position for long.  For example, Leonardo would move to Milan, find a patron, usually a Duke or Bishop of some sort, and be commissioned to create some sort of magnificent fresco, painting, or engineering design.  He would dive in, work hard, and often, just as he was to complete a work, would lose his patron to political upheaval, or a change in the religious leadership.  Due to the recurrence of such situations, Leonardo began to take his sweet time preparing and finishing work.  He was concerned with experimentation, with new techniques and materials, and due to this he could not work as fast as his contemporaries such as Michelangelo or Raphael.  Even a work he finished, such as the Last Supper masterpiece, was damaged by floods within a few months of completion.

Whether due to his constant experimentation with materials, or the varied whims of his patrons, Ralph Steadman surmises that Leonardo willfully slowed down his work so as to serve the art and not the master.  Speaking through Leonardo, Steadman describes how infatuated Leonardo became with the sitter for the world-famous Mona Lisa, or as Leonardo would call her, his Madonna Lisa, having her come for extra sessions, and noting that her specific beauty was best captured in the soft light of the waning day.  Leonardo never delivered this painting to the husband who commissioned it, instead choosing to keep it for himself. 

Much like Leonardo’s own notebooks, many of the large artworks in this book are accompanied by Ralph Steadman’s preliminary sketches.  This allows an artist like myself to see the process by which Ralph Steadman conjures up his visions.  Awesome.  This was a labor of love, and Steadman’s admiration of Leonardo da Vinci shines through in every page.  Not only is it a great primer on the life of one of the world’s foremost artists and engineers, but it is a great introduction to anyone looking to learn more about Steadman’s work.  The reverence he holds for Leonardo shows in the relatively restrained artwork, showing a greater feeling for form, perspective, and narrative than Steadman’s normal, and notoriously chaotic, images do.  As is the norm with Ralph Steadman, the portraits of aristocrats and powerful religious figures are scathing grotesqueries, showing the reader the true ugliness hidden beneath the trappings and finery of the supposed “elite.”

I thoroughly enjoyed this book.  Much like Rudy Rucker’s As Above, So Below: A Novel of Peter Bruegel, I was captivated by the immersion into the artist’s world, times, and life.  The true originals, such as Leonardo da Vinci, or Ralph Steadman himself, use their skills and acumen to show us something new, something which no one before or since can capture in quite the same manner.  In doing so they transcend the limits of time, language, culture, etc.  The created work exists, and that is what matters.  We are all the luckier for it.  I highly recommend this book to anyone seeking an overview of Leonardo’s life, or an introduction to the amazing artwork of Ralph Steadman.

(Signed copies of I, Leonardo can be purchased here: https://www.ralphsteadman.com/collection/i-leonardo/ )