Back in the scribing groove
Nov. 24th, 2010 11:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
abendgulesAfter a break of a couple of months since the first P&P left these shores, I'm returning to my scribing. (It's taken me several tries to find a way to put that politely.)
This return is driven in part by delivery deadlines, but also in part by new artistic challenges.
The drawing class has reminded me that there's room for doing art, just because it's cool to do art, and it's fun to learn new stuff - learning to look and see what's really there, not just what you think ought to be there.
The most recent class was about lines; the exercise was to draw an object or setting in a room, with only one, continuous line. Look for the edges of the object, following the sequence of edges that you really see - so while you might be drawing the outline of the shelf, you also include the line of the edges of all the objects on the shelf. It's a bit awkward to describe, but easy to show.
The instructor James called it 'taking your line for a walk' and just seeing where it takes you.
I found this exercise harder than the one about shading; I kept choosing safe geometric shapes to outline rather than fluid non-line-based shapes. I found it hard to keep the proportions right - I'd take up far too much room detailing one object and be left with no room to fill in the remainder of items on the shelf.
OTOH, I'm not beating myself up over it. I find it really tedious when other students diss their own work ('oh, this is terrible, I want to start over'). They seem rediculously hard on themselves, considering that they are novices like me, and have no experience. It's as if they're embarrassed at not being able to draw, and want to ward off criticism before someone else can get in with a jab.
It irritates me when I encounter it in scribing too; I'm showing someone a piece and they say, 'oh I couldn't possibly do that'.
How do they know? have they tried? with instruction? and practice? It seems to crop up in a lot of crafts: observers admire your work, but immediately distance themselves from any suggestion that they could possibly pick up any skills themselves.
Why are they not honest and say, this is lovely, but I don't want to do it? Sometimes the social fictions in society are more hassle than they're worth.
So this week I've used a deadline to push me to do really tiny calligraphy on a scroll (well, that, and screwing up the first two lines so I cut them off and started again on a now-smaller page helped! had to give up and use a metal nib, but it's the smallest round nib I own), and to push me to try some decoration I hadn't considered before.
I found a 16th c book of hours page with small elements that I thought I could emulate, and it would be brilliant to have at least one attractive 16th c. 'model' in my repetoire, to use for future commissions.
It's very modest illumination, but it's different from my previous efforts, and I'm hoping to get some feedback (after the event).
With this addition, I now have at least one 'model' for the 12th through the 16th centuries. They're not all equally polished or ambitious, but I can tailor my scrolls to the recipient at least that much.
I've also done another scroll text this week with a quill, this time with a walnut based ink - very definitely brown, rather than the gray-brown-black of the ox gall or iron gall ink. The exemplar is clearly in brown, so I thought I'd try it. This one is also quite small. I've always loved small jewel-like scrolls; my own AoA is small and perfectly formed.
For some reason, I'm having better luck working with quills held upside down. It pushes the tines of the nib together, rather than allowing them to splay, and I get a stiffer nib this way. Go figure!
More scribing for Friday, Saturday and possibly Sunday too.
This return is driven in part by delivery deadlines, but also in part by new artistic challenges.
The drawing class has reminded me that there's room for doing art, just because it's cool to do art, and it's fun to learn new stuff - learning to look and see what's really there, not just what you think ought to be there.
The most recent class was about lines; the exercise was to draw an object or setting in a room, with only one, continuous line. Look for the edges of the object, following the sequence of edges that you really see - so while you might be drawing the outline of the shelf, you also include the line of the edges of all the objects on the shelf. It's a bit awkward to describe, but easy to show.
The instructor James called it 'taking your line for a walk' and just seeing where it takes you.
I found this exercise harder than the one about shading; I kept choosing safe geometric shapes to outline rather than fluid non-line-based shapes. I found it hard to keep the proportions right - I'd take up far too much room detailing one object and be left with no room to fill in the remainder of items on the shelf.
OTOH, I'm not beating myself up over it. I find it really tedious when other students diss their own work ('oh, this is terrible, I want to start over'). They seem rediculously hard on themselves, considering that they are novices like me, and have no experience. It's as if they're embarrassed at not being able to draw, and want to ward off criticism before someone else can get in with a jab.
It irritates me when I encounter it in scribing too; I'm showing someone a piece and they say, 'oh I couldn't possibly do that'.
How do they know? have they tried? with instruction? and practice? It seems to crop up in a lot of crafts: observers admire your work, but immediately distance themselves from any suggestion that they could possibly pick up any skills themselves.
Why are they not honest and say, this is lovely, but I don't want to do it? Sometimes the social fictions in society are more hassle than they're worth.
So this week I've used a deadline to push me to do really tiny calligraphy on a scroll (well, that, and screwing up the first two lines so I cut them off and started again on a now-smaller page helped! had to give up and use a metal nib, but it's the smallest round nib I own), and to push me to try some decoration I hadn't considered before.
I found a 16th c book of hours page with small elements that I thought I could emulate, and it would be brilliant to have at least one attractive 16th c. 'model' in my repetoire, to use for future commissions.
It's very modest illumination, but it's different from my previous efforts, and I'm hoping to get some feedback (after the event).
With this addition, I now have at least one 'model' for the 12th through the 16th centuries. They're not all equally polished or ambitious, but I can tailor my scrolls to the recipient at least that much.
I've also done another scroll text this week with a quill, this time with a walnut based ink - very definitely brown, rather than the gray-brown-black of the ox gall or iron gall ink. The exemplar is clearly in brown, so I thought I'd try it. This one is also quite small. I've always loved small jewel-like scrolls; my own AoA is small and perfectly formed.
For some reason, I'm having better luck working with quills held upside down. It pushes the tines of the nib together, rather than allowing them to splay, and I get a stiffer nib this way. Go figure!
More scribing for Friday, Saturday and possibly Sunday too.
