Anyone who has seen my drawings knows I love doing expansive, wide angle views. Here are a few recent sketches from parks in Seattle this summer. The sketchbook is a Hahnemühle Watercolor Book in landscape format.
Enjoy the summer!
Back in Seattle
Tag: stephanieabower
A Buffet of Workshops this Weekend, April 23-24
This coming weekend, French Escapade is hosting a collection of amazing virtual workshops taught by artists around the world! Short and sweet, and taught LIVE, you can take them all back-to-back or just pick your favorites.
I’m honored to be teaching a class on sketching arches in lovely Venice…why arches? Because arches are not horseshoes, of course! They are in fact architecturally structural elements and have a few features that are important to capture…for example, do you know what the Spring Line is? Arches are focal points in so many buildings, so many sketches…I’ll share my tips and shortcuts for getting them right!
It’s been a long time since I’ve taught a class (had to stop to work on the book!), and I’m so excited to get back at it. I hope that you can join us! More info and registration here. GRAZIE!
Born to do this…
Yes, I think I was probably born to teach. As I prepare for the next round of online workshops, I realize that teaching these classes is getting me through the isolation of this pandemic. I’m so grateful to the many folks from around the world who have joined me to learn about perspective and watercolor from the comfort (and safety) of our own homes. I hope that these classes are helping you too.
I also think back to how I started teaching. You may be surprised to learn that for most of my 5 years of architecture school, I was not particularly good at drawing. Before entering our 4th year in the program, our portfolios were reviewed by 3 professors, and you had to pass this review in order to move on. In my review, two professors literally wrote “weak graphic skills”. I was so discouraged, especially after already investing 3 years in college, but I turned it around and took it as a challenge to do better. And wow, look what happened! I clearly remember struggling with learning how to draw, and it’s that struggle that helps me be a better teacher today.
But this isn’t how I actually started teaching…after graduating with my 5 year architecture degree from UT Austin (as Valedictorian, no less–HA, that will teach the architect who discouraged me from going saying women shouldn’t be in architecture!!!!), I moved to NYC to attend graduate school in Interior Design at Pratt in Brooklyn. I arrived without ever seeing the place and knowing no one. Coming from an architecture degree, I placed out of the required drawing courses, which helped me to find time to work (I had an entry level job at HOK in Rockefeller Center–every time I see the Christmas tree on TV, I remember seeing it out the window from work!)
My fellow classmates, however, had to take the drawing classes which were unfortunately taught by a teacher who didn’t actually teach. He would take them outside and simply let them loose and say, “Draw.” Now this method could work if you have a lot of time, but the trial and error involved is too quickly discouraging. So… they came to me and asked me if I could teach them!!!! I went to the department chair, who said that due to union rules, I couldn’t “teach”, so we started a “Sketching Club”. Twice a week, they would meet me for lunch and I’d project slides and teach them to draw the way that I was taught in architecture school. I loved it.
The year after finishing grad school, I started teaching at Parsons in the Environmental Design/Architecture program, then I was asked by Tim Gunn (yes, that Tim Gunn) to be the first hire for the new Interior Design program they were putting together. I ended up teaching at Parsons for 10 years. We moved to Seattle, where I taught briefly with Frank Ching at the University of Washington, then a number of years at Cornish College of the Arts, the Parsons of the Northwest. Once my dad got sick, I left teaching university and started the travel workshop life, thanks in large part to Urban Sketchers (I just sent in my annual donation, nudge nudge.) I’ve been so incredibly fortunate to have parallel careers in teaching and architecture/illustration my entire adult life.
As this terrible year comes to a close, I find myself grateful for so many things in life, including the ability to teach during a global pandemic. Who knew? Teaching fills some inner need to share and pass on what I have learned, to see the light bulb of understanding illuminate in someone’s eyes. It’s why I always ask, “What was your ah-ha moment?” Mine is that teaching teaches the teacher so much. Thank you to every single student over the many years for what you’ve taught me.
I get quite emotional looking at these photos. I love teaching so much, and I love the friends I see in these photos, friends made along the way. I miss you all. Let’s hope for some in-person 3-D learning and travel in a better 2021!
Drawing or painting or both?
Sorry for the lapse in posts, but I’ve been focusing on creating an online course I hope to offer LIVE via Zoom in a few weeks! It will be a masterclass on perspective sketching made easy (any suggestions for a title??) that is based on an interactive lecture I gave 5 years ago at the USk symposium in Singapore. As I buy more and more equipment to pull this off, my little home office is slowly being converted to a TV studio!
Today I sat in front of my house to sketch, as I don’t feel compelled to go too far from home these days. I also haven’t sketched in a while, and I’m feeling the rusty joints. The drawing part I pretty much have down, it’s the painting where you can often see that I’m out of practice–when I’m not warmed up, I tend to overpaint.
This is the front of our 1911 Craftsman house in Seattle. I realized about 3/4 the way through that I’m currently stuck somewhere between making it a drawing or a painting. I typically like the architectural feel of the drawings with minimal color, so I’m going to blame my attempts to be more painterly on none other than Shari Blaukopf. I look at her beautiful work and I think I need to use more color. Ha! Don’t we all wish we could paint like Shari?
Here is a bit of the process for today. One advantage of sketching at home is that I can run into the house and scan the progress images! Below is the finished line, the underpainting of warms and cools, the addition of the sky dropped into wet paper, and the final sketch.
I actually love the image with the sky, as I’m always a little sad once I cover up my line work! It has a balance that I rather like. I also like how the fence came out. The house itself, well I’m still working on getting those darn values right…
Happy Birthday, little book.
Saying this is a dream come true is an understatement. Four years ago yesterday, June 15, 2016, this little book was officially released.
This particular adventure started in 2015 when I saw Gabi Campanario at one of our Seattle Urban Sketchers meet ups. He was standing near me, and I thought to thank him for including my work in his books, the first two in the Handbook series. What an honor it was, I couldn’t believe it!!! Surprisingly, he looked at me and said, “What about you? You should write a book. Do you want me to put you in touch with my editor?” Literally picking my jaw off the floor, I mumbled, “Sure,” but the voice in my head was screaming, “WHAT did he just say????” Of course, the humble and generous Gabi was true to his word, and very shortly after, he connected me with his editor, Mary Ann Hall at Quarry Books/Quarto publishers.
Mary Ann said I should write up a short proposal with a description, stating how this book would be different from others on the market. Having bought every drawing book on perspective known to mankind, I knew that all the books were focused on studio perspective, that is, something like boxes on a table top — useless if you want to sit on a street and sketch. That was what my book would talk about, bridging the conceptual world of studio perspective with the “what the heck do I do when I want to sketch on location” world. I had been teaching perspective sketching in college for decades, but had just started teaching workshops in Seattle. I knew perspective in and out from my work as an architectural illustrator and my background as an architect. The proposal poured out of me in only a few minutes, and I sent it off. BOOM. It was approved, and before I could catch my breath, I was writing a book!
I knew what I wanted the book to say. I had come up with my own original concepts for teaching, things like “starting with the shape of the face or space”, or ignoring the term “horizon line” and instead using your “eye-level line” (it’s much more relevant to sketching on location.) I had never seen anyone else use these and other terms in the way I talked about them. The hard part was finding the sketches that would illustrate the teaching points. I combed the internet, looking at the work of my hero sketchers, friends, but also finding new folks I hadn’t seen in other books. It was a herculean task to coordinate it all. I’m so incredibly grateful that so many talented artists and architects from around the world were willing to share their work, for nothing but a copy from the publisher and an opportunity.
As I wrote the text, I laid everything out in InDesign for my own understanding, as I had to see how the parts would all go together…the right text with the right sketch, the diagrams in the right order, the right adjacencies and notes. We went through lots of rounds of edits, and I probably was too ambitious in trying to pack so much information into one small book. There was just too much I wanted to say!
Months later, it’s June 15, 2016 and I’m signing copies of the book at the Seattle-based Daniel Smith store. Such a surreal moment, I cannot tell you. I’ve since been sent photos of this book on sale at the Art Museum in Sydney Australia, the Tate Modern in London, the Uffizi in Florence (I went and found them there as well, snuck the copies into a corner, signed them, and put them back on the shelf), and even the Louvre bookstore in Paris, in French. Crazy. Blew my mind to see to see it on Amazon ranked next to the books by my hero authors that I had used in architecture school.
The title, Understanding Perspective, came from Mary Ann Hall, and it was perfect.
I picked the cover image for two reasons: one, everyone loves Paris! Two, it was done during the first few days of my time in Paris with the Gabriel Prize fellowship, so it means a lot to me personally. I hoped it would bring good luck!
The image on the back cover is by Gabi and is a view of the Seattle waterfront (our common home town) and the viaduct, that I knew would be gone a few years later. It’s my nod to thank him.
Let me also say that there is very little money in writing a book, even one that sells well. It’s much more about sharing knowledge and experience, sharing my perspective on perspective (yes, I did just write that), and creating something that will likely outlive me. Hopefully my children and grandchildren can look to it one day and feel proud. My dad had always told me I should write a book (I think he imagined a NYT bestseller 😉 and the opportunity to write this book came just after he passed away. I hope he is somewhere, smiling… as for me, I’m still living the dream and am grateful every day.
4. Wide Angles in the Chiesa
I have drawn the interior of Civita’s Chiesa San Donato a few times times, as for the past 7 years, each workshop group comes here on the last day for the most challenging sketch of all. It’s a space I find both simple and ornate at the same time, and it’s a wonderful, cool and quiet place to sketch on a hot day.
This first image below was done in 2013. It was the first year I taught in Civita–a workshop of one person– so the two of us basically just sketched together. My son, Nicholas came with me too. His plan was to help me haul groceries up the bridge, then hightail it back to Rome to do the youth hostel thing. But he, too, walked through that Porta Santa Maria and entered a different world…he climbed the steps to our apartment, entered, turned and looked out the window, saw the breathtaking view, pulled up a chair, found a book, and stayed in that spot reading and drinking wine (age doesn’t matter in Italia) for at least a week. So much for Rome! Then, he went back to his sophomore year at UW and started studying, you guessed it… ITALIAN! He ended up graduating with a minor in Italian, and he is more or less fluent. Thus is the power of Civita!!
So 2013 was my first year in Civita, my first workshop here, and my first wide angle view sketch!!! This image is loaded with emotion for me.
In 2014, I was in Civita with a 2-month fellowship through The Civita Institute, a non-profit based in Seattle that used to have associations with the University of Washington architecture program. My project was to research the town’s history and draw an illustrated walking guide. What resulted was a sketch of the interior was WAY over the top… I tried to show every little detail that I wanted to call out in the guide. Overworked, it’s like a cake that is too sweet…
Next is 2017. Cleaner, with more control over the drawing (I was probably remembering my overworked 2014 image). Here are some photos taken during the process too. You can see in the “good bones” how I lay out the big shapes and use full ellipses to get the arches.
Those are my favorites…until next year!
3. North South East West
A few steps further into town, and I mean maybe 15 steps, is the Piazza San Donato. It’s the town’s primary gathering space for nearly 3000 years! Once an Etruscan and then a Roman forum, it is located at the auspicious intersection of Etruscan roads, what the Romans would call the Decamanus (east-west) and Cardo (north-south). There probably would have been a Roman temple here, and the pieces of what were columns still stand along the front of the church–they are granite and likely came from Egypt!
The Campanile or bell tower rings every quarter hour, and when you live in Civita, it chimes the rhythm of your life. At longer 7am and 7pm chimes once signaled the start and end of the workday to the farmers in the valley below.
As part of my 2014 fellowship, I documented all four directions…it’s like you are there! I had an exhibit of work at Washington State University a few years back…we printed huge copies of these sketches and hung them at eye level to make a box. You could stand in the middle and imagine you were in Civita!
In terms of technique, if you look closely, you can see the subtle evolution of my drawing and painting. The earlier ones have flatter color, and as time and practice went on, the colors got more varied and refined. I was figuring things out! My favorite is the last one shown here, as this is where I finally got the feel for representing this place. Not overpainted, just enough. While I was doing this, I remember there was a wedding taking place. All the guests were from either the US or Lebanon, and my gosh, I’ve never seen more amazing clothing in my life!
So many stories, so many memories, such an incredible opportunity. I am so eternally grateful for having received the Civita Institute’s Astra Zarina 2-month fellowship here in 2014. It was during these two solid months of work that I really found my sketching self and developed a way of drawing and painting that I still use to this day.
Much more to come…
2. Through the gate…
Huff and puff up the steep bridge, through the Porta Santa Maria, turn and look back at this view as you emerge into the Piazza San Pietro. The workshop group often sketches here in the morning while we sit in shade and the facades are bathed in crisp morning light, plus the bar (what we call a cafe) on the piazza opens early and serves yummy lattes. Appropriate, as apparently there was a market here long ago.
Look carefully at this wide-angle view and you’ll see blue sky in some of the windows of the Renaissance era Palazzo Colesanti…yes, the building collapsed into the valley below and all that is left is the facade! The outdoor stair is called a proferlo and is typical of this area of Italy. The gray stone around the windows is a very dense balsatina, which is mined locally. It’s also used for some amazing fireplace throughout town.
In terms of technique, this is where we learn to leave a swath of the paper as white untouched by paint in order to get a sense for the sun hitting the face of the building and ground. This is also where we learn to do varied washes of color so the color isn’t flat and also talks about the materials and stone texture. Just look at all the colors that are dropped into any one facade! That was done with one layer of watercolor wash. And my favorite part, just look at the arch on the far right under the stairs…that glow of red is a drop of Daniel Smith Quinacridone Burnt Orange into wet paint. I love that color!
I am looking back as a way to dream about next year…gosh I miss this place!
1. Civita weaves its spell…
Yesterday, the workshop folks would have huffed and puffed their way up the long and steep bridge to the amazing tiny town of Civita di Bagnoregio.
Instead of the island in the sky it is now, Civita was at one time surrounded by fairly level fields with entry roads coming into town from various directions. But the rivers to the north and south, aided by earthquakes, cut into the soft volcanic and undersea soils and left it standing alone and cut off. There used to be a skinny land bridge that connected Bagnoregio with Civita, and the main mode of transport until only a few decades ago was by donkey! These days, in the mornings you’ll find shop and restaurant owners on their scooters, loaded down with bags of supplies.
Walking up the bridge is something of a ritual ceremony. And for those of us who are afraid of heights, it takes some getting used to. But with each step and gaze out to the vast landscape, you leave the real world behind and get closer to the timeless, auto-free, ancient world of stone that is beyond the gate.
Just inside the Porta Santa Maria, you can see the Etruscan era original arches which are held in place with no mortar, only gravity. The current facade was actually added in the Renaissance by the local cardinal who made it look like a sort of medieval gate. There used to be a chapel here, a hospital, roads down to the chestnut fields below town, and much more, but it’s all fallen into the valley by now, joining the wild boar or cinghiale that roam the hillsides (yes, you can eat pasta with cinghiale, and it’s delicious!) But pass through this gate, as pilgrims have been doing for thousands of years (you can see the crosses carved into the stone walls), and a spell comes over you. This place really is magic.
A Guide to Our Living Room, and the steps it took to get there…
As primarily a travel sketcher who is now stuck at home on Day 47, I’m finally turning my sights to drawing our house. What started as a simple sketch of our small living room turned into creating a way to identify beloved objects, a road may for our kids who some day may want to know what all this stuff is and where it came from. (I’ve instructed them not to sell the watercolor paintings and my brushes at a yard sale!)
And since I was sketching at home, I had the luxury of being able to stop and start, and to scan various phases of the sketch. I LOVED the line drawing and hesitated to add any color at all, but then took the plunge and added a little underpainting to establish the voids or recessed spaces. Finally, more color, although I tried to restrain myself and leave a lot of white to give a sense of the sunlight.
In the end, my favorite is the underpainted version, and the kind folks who responded to my Instagram post helped me figure out why (most liked the full color version, by the way.) I like the unfinished quality of the sketch at that point, the areas that are left white feel fresh. It’s a painting of potential, one that doesn’t overpower the line drawing I really liked and didn’t want to lose with too much paint (which happens all too often!)
How about you, which version do you like best?
And the steps:
1–Initial rough sketch blocking out the big shapes. You can see my vanishing point right in front of me, and my eye level line drawn all the way across the page. I didn’t erase any of these lines, other than moving the Eames chair, I drew right over them.
2– Completed line drawing. I love being able to se all the little details! I added the text.
3– Underpainting, it’s my way of easing into the painting by dipping my toe in first. Cool colors show the recesses, the warm colors advance.
4–Full color, but a muted palette so I don’t cover up too much of the lines I love. I tried to restrain from painting too much, by leaving areas of the paper white to show sunlight.
This post also appears on the Urban Sketchers blog at http://www.urbansketchers.org.
Drawing Perspectives 