Showing posts with label drawing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drawing. Show all posts

Monday, 22 June 2015

Elephant No. 140: Inktense Blocks






I wasn't going to make an elephant today, but then I came across a tin of Inktense blocks, and realized I'd never really used them before.

I thought they deserved a large surface, so I decided to work on an 18 x 24-inch (45.7 x 61 cm) sheet of Canson 140 lb. watercolour paper. I almost cut the sheet in half, but I never work big so I made myself stick to using the whole sheet.

I'm always better, of course, drawing from a photograph, so I chose this one by Nick Brandt.


Elephant with Tattered Ears, Amboseli, 2008
Photo: Nick Brandt
Source: www.nickbrandt.com


I began by doing a faint outline in red.




I followed up by adding shading in yellow, orange, blue, green and navy, in that order.








Now comes the fun part. Because Inktense is a water-soluble medium, the pigments become much more interesting when wet. Unlike watercolour paints or pencils, Inktense turns into ink when wet. Essentially, the heavier you draw, the more saturated the colours, and the more ink you have to move around.

To me, it's a bit like those magic-dot pictures in colouring books: just add water and colours appear. I used a small flat paintbrush for most of this, with a finer brush to make a few thin lines.




I liked this quite a lot, but I also wanted slightly more definition, so I waited until this was damp-dry, then added some fine lines and shading on top with a purple Inktense pencil.




The thing I like most about Inktense blocks and pencils is that you can leave some of the sketchy lines as a contrast with the swathes of ink.





I really didn't want to make anything today, but in the end, I'm glad I did. It only took about an hour and a half, and I like it enough that I'll definitely try this again sometime.





Elephant Lore of the Day
This is one of my favourite elephant stories, adapted from the original Elephant a Day blog. A few years back, at a safari camp in Tanzania's Katavi National Park, one of the area's normally well-behaved elephants suddenly took to ripping the canvas flysheets on the camp's tents.

At first it was assumed that the elephant had accidentally stumbled into the canvas. Elephants are usually clever enough to pick their way over guy ropes and other obstacles with no trouble, but maybe this guy was a little clumsy. The safari operators called in a tailor, who carefully sewed the tears in the sheets.

A day or two later, it happened again. This was repeated several times, until the elephant was caught in the act. Resting his tusks on the flysheet at the back of a tent, he gently pushed down on the canvas, causing it to rip. At first no one could figure out why this particular elephant had become so destructive. Then in occurred to them: he simply liked the noise of ripping canvas.

Because the flysheets could only be mended so many times, the safari operators came up with a clever solution. Instead of sewing the flysheets back together, they fastened on new pieces of canvas with Velcro®. The elephant still gets to enjoy the sound of tearing fabric, but now it's easier to put back together.



African elephant near a vintage-style safari camp.
Source: vintagecamps.com


To Support Elephant Welfare

Wednesday, 17 June 2015

Elephant No. 137: Zentangle-Inspired Art





I've never tried doing anything like a Zentangle drawing before. It's always looked very complicated to me, and I was sure I wouldn't be able to do it without a lot of effort. I discovered today that it's actually quite easy—time-consuming, but easy.

According to the how-to book I bought, One Zentangle a Day by Beckhah Krahula, the practice was created by Rick Roberts and Maria Thomas. The story goes that, while watching Maria work one day, Rick realized that her state of concentration was similar to his own state while meditating. Together, they came up with a series of steps that would allow anyone to maintain a relaxed focus while creating beautiful drawings with repeating patterns.

Technically, true Zentangle art is created on a square piece of paper, or "tile", measuring 3.5 x 3.5 inches (8.9 x 8.9 cm). The square is usually white or black, and the smallish size is designed to make it quick and easy to create a design. Traditional Zentangle patterns have interesting names like "Ynix", "Squid" and "Keeko", each with its own unique look. Artists are encouraged to combine patterns to produce something they find pleasing.


Some traditional Zentangle designs on standard tiles.
Art by Deb Ammerman
Source: Deb Ammerman Art and Design

All of this was quite interesting, but far too involved for an impatient creature like me. Nor did I want to make something as small as a traditional Zentangle tile. This means I can't really call what I produced "Zentangle" but rather "Zentangle-inspired art". Okey dokey, then.

I started by making an outline of an African elephant's head.




I subdivided the outline next, and started laying in some patterning. So far, so good.




After this, I tried to use some of the traditional Zentangle patterns from the book. I didn't really have time to practice the designs properly, so I eventually decided simply to make repeating patterns I liked.




Once I finished the ears—which literally took hours—I considered adding patterning to the areas that were still relatively blank. However, I liked this so much as it was, that I was afraid I'd wreck it if I went any further. Maybe I'll be more bold once I get a bit more comfortable with Zentangle drawing.




To read more about Zentangle, please click here.






Elephant Lore of the Day
A few days ago, my friend Saša sent me this image from @People's Daily, China. What does one even say about a large elephant-shaped public toilet? I've seen images of many bizarre elephant structures over the years, but this is the oddest to date.

Recently opened in a park in Zhengzhou, Henan Province, the building is nine metres (29.5 feet) in height, and took more than a year to build. According to the GB Times, nearby residents had no idea what the purpose of the structure might be, but told reporters that they liked the creative design anyway.


Public toilet, Zhengzhou City, Henan Province, China.
Source: @PDChina

To Support Elephant Welfare

Sunday, 14 June 2015

Elephant No. 134: Big Fat Markers





I don't know why I felt I had to buy these big fat markers, but they were only $2.50 for four, so it wasn't much of an investment. I'm sure I thought I needed them for something specific at the time, but for the life of me, I can't remember what that was.




I'm not terribly comfortable with fat markers and bold lines. In fact, I don't think I've ever even tried drawing with something this big, so I wasn't entirely sure how to use them. I also didn't want to work on something large, as I thought it would be more challenging to work with fat markers on a small page. I used 9 x 12" (22.8 x 30.5 cm) cheap sketchpad paper for all of these

This was my first attempt to play with the markers, just to see how they worked. I didn't like this drawing enough to do more with it.




Then I decided that fat markers might lend themselves best to a graffiti sort of style. Rather than draw an elephant, however, I decided to create an elephant by scrawling the word "elephant" over and over again.

The first graffiti-word elephant was done without an outline. I was distinctly underwhelmed. I can draw elephants in my sleep at this point, but somehow adding a new medium made it awkward.




For my final attempt, I made a light pencil outline of an elephant, then filled it in with the word "elephant", layered in six of the eight available colours. For the eye, I began with the "e", then continued the rest of the word out to the edge of the forehead. In other places, I crammed the letters tightly, overlapping a lot. I found it surprisingly difficult not to end up with big lines where I didn't want them, but I was happy enough with the final result.

It's certainly not the most polished thing I've ever produced, but I rather like the concept, and will probably try it again as something a little larger.






Elephant Lore of the Day
When a 7.9-magnitude earthquake hit Nepal in April of this year, it destroyed villages, towns and cities. One of the most heartbreaking scenes of destruction was the Kathmandu Valley, where World Heritage Sites like Lalitpur's Patan Durbar Square were flattened in an instant.

Amid the destruction, however, this elephant survived. Taken by my friend Saša, who was covering the earthquake for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, it sat at the base of one of the square's four temples.


Elephant in Patan Durbar Square, Lalitpur, Nepal, April 2015.
Photo: © Saša Petricic

The temple, as you can see below, was utterly destroyed by the quake. It is astounding that the elephant survived—and survived intact, no less.


The destroyed temple.
Photo: © Omar Havana/Getty Images
Source: theguardian.com


The same elephant in happier days.
Photo: © Robert Preston
Source: fineartamerica.com



My sincere thanks to Saša for taking an elephant photo for me amidst scenes of unthinkable devastation. To see more of Saša's work, check him out on Instagram and Vimeo.



On June 11, the Nepalese government announced that it was reopening Patan Durbar Square to visitors. UNESCO immediately raised concerns regarding the safety of both monuments and people. The Nepalese countered that all the requisite protective measures were in place, and that they were going ahead. Not only will tourism bring in some welcome funding, but it is also important to the Nepalese that some semblance of normality be restored as quickly as possible.

 

To Support Elephant Welfare

Saturday, 13 June 2015

Elephant No. 133: From the Archives: Playing Card




It's the weekend, and I'm taking it easy, so here is one of the early postings from the original Elephant a Day blog. Enjoy!

Today I felt like doing something quiet and sedentary, so I decided to make a traditional playing card.

Playing cards were invented in Ancient China around the ninth century A.D. By the eleventh century, they could be found throughout Asia, likely transported along the Silk Road. Ancient Chinese "money cards" had four suits: coins, strings of coins, myriads (10,000) of coins, and tens of myriads. Some scholars believe that the first playing cards in China might have been a form of actual currency.

Playing cards came to Europe in the late fourteenth century, probably from Mameluke Egypt. The Egyptian deck had 52 cards, with four suits: polo sticks, coins, swords and cups. Each suit had ten number cards, featuring "pips" or suit symbols. There were also three "court" cards: King, Deputy King and Under-Deputy.

The Egyptian deck may have influenced the design of East Indian cards, although some suggest that it might have been the other way around. Early Indian cards are quite distinctive: they are circular, intricately hand-painted, and have anywhere from eight to thirty-two suits.


Ganjifa cards, with ten suits showing the ten avatars of Vishnu
Nineteenth century
Los Angeles County Museum of Art
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Ganjifa1.jpg



By the late fourteenth century, the use of playing cards had spread across Europe. The earliest cards were individually handmade and expensive; however, by the fifteenth century, decks printed from woodcuts had begun to appear. Most early woodcuts were coloured after printing, either by hand or using a stencil. A deck usually had four suits, although five suits were also common. In Germany, the suits were hearts, bells, leaves and acorns. Italian and Spanish cards used swords, wands, cups and coins.

The four suits most commonly used today—hearts, spades, diamonds and clubs—originated in France around 1480. The club (trèfle, or clover, in French) was likely derived from the acorn on German cards; the spade, from the German leaf. Europeans also changed the court cards to represent European royalty: originally with King, Knight and Knave, and later with King, Queen and Jack.

At first, the King was always the highest card. As time went on, the Ace took on greater significance, eventually becoming the card with the greatest value. Some have suggested that this concept was given a boost during the French Revolution, when the peasantry wrested power from the monarchy. 

Court cards with mirror images were invented in the late eighteenth century. This was so that players would not be tempted to turn the court cards right side up, which might hint at the cards they held. The use of the manufacturer's logo on the ace of spades began during the reign of James I of England (1556–1625), who passed a law requiring an insignia to show that duty had been paid on the cards. Duty was paid on playing cards in the United Kingdom until 1960.

The most common size for playing cards is 2-1/2 x 3-1/2 inches (poker size) or 2-1/4 x 3-1/2 inches (bridge size). Traditionally, the Jack of Spades, Jack of Hearts, and King of Diamonds are drawn in profile—these are the "one-eyed" cards. The rest of the court cards are depicted full-face. The King of Hearts is the only King with no mustache, and is also typically shown with a sword his head, making him look as though he's stabbing himself.

For today's elephant, I decided to make a standard poker-sized card, based on the King of Hearts from the Bicycle Playing Card deck.




To start, I traced around one of the Bicycle cards. Expecting that I would screw up at least once, I made four blanks, all from inexpensive bristol board.




In order to create a mirror image of the Elephant King of Hearts, I drew a line across the middle of the card, then sketched in the elephant. Although I used the general idea of the King of Hearts from the Bicycle deck, I decided not to have the elephant stabbing himself in the head with a sword. Although the King of Hearts may traditionally be nicknamed the "suicide king", I didn't want a suicide elephant.




Drawing a mirror image freehand is actually more difficult than you'd think. Short of making a grid (which I knew I would greatly dislike), there's no easy way of doing this. What worked best for me was to draw a bit of the design on one half, then flip it around and draw as close to the same thing as possible on the other half. I guess I was hoping my fingers would have some sort of memory of what they'd just done. It wasn't always as precise as I would have liked, but it came out close enough.

I wanted something on the back as well, but the Bicycle Poker Card design is beyond what I can do on such a small surface with a limited amount of time. I did another mirror design with a few nods to the idea behind the Bicycle design, but it's nowhere near as detailed as the card that inspired it.




I had originally planned to use drafting pens for this. I had blue, red and black drafting ink on hand, and planned to fill the yellow in with coloured pencil afterwards. Unfortunately, the blue ink was old and not very cooperative, so after a few attempts with ink, I went with coloured pencil instead.

I wanted to stick more or less with the same colours as are on the Bicycle cards, so that's the colour palette I used.




I didn't get quite the crisp result I expected, but I certainly learned a lot about drawing mirror images. And old ink. And the propensity of coloured pencil to smudge. And how you can't erase lead pencil after you've put coloured pencil in the same vicinity.

It was definitely an interesting exercise. Just don't expect a pack of Elephant Poker Cards anytime soon.





Elephant Lore of the Day
In the French playing cards on which most modern decks are based, the King of Hearts is said to depict Charlemagne, Emperor of the Franks.

In A.D. 802, Charlemagne received an Asian elephant named Abul-Abbas from the Caliph of Baghdad. Abul-Abbas was brought from Baghdad by a man called Isaac, who had been sent to the Caliph on Charlemagne's orders. Following the deaths of the two other emissaries sent to Baghdad with him, Isaac returned alone with the elephant. The journey took many months: first by land along the Egyptian coast and across modern Algeria and Tunisia, then by sea from Tunisia to Europe.

Abul-Abbas was a big hit in his new home, and was exhibited many times at court. He was eventually housed in Augsburg, in today's southern Bavaria. Sadly, Abul-Abbas died of pneumonia when he was in his forties, likely from swimming in the Rhine. His bones were preserved at Lippenham, Denmark until the eighteenth century.

Some say that Abul-Abbas was an albino elephant. Legend also suggests that he was used as a war elephant in A.D. 804, when the Franks were attacked by the Danes. Mobilizing his troops, Charlemagne is said to have asked that Abul-Abbas be sent to him, so that the elephant could take part in the battle.




To Support Elephant Welfare

Thursday, 11 June 2015

Elephant No. 131: From the Archives—Altoids Tin Diorama




Over the past several years, people have been using Altoids tins to make lots of interesting things, from tiny amplifiers to little shrines to homes for itty-bitty animals. So today, I thought I'd try making something using an Altoids tin.

Altoids are strong breath mints that were first produced in England in the 1780s. Billed as the "Original Celebrated Curiously Strong Mints", Altoids are characterized by a high proportion of peppermint oil.

Interestingly, Altoids are harder to find in Britain than in the other countries to which they are exported. They have never been heavily marketed in Britain; however, in the United States they are so popular that the brand's owner moved Altoids production to Chattanooga, Tennesee, to be nearer the primary market.

In addition to the traditional mints—currently available in seven breath-freshening flavours—Altoids makes sour hard candies in round tins. Other items such as chewing gum, chocolate-dipped mints, and breath strips have also been marketed over the years, but have since been discontinued.


A selection of Altoid tins.
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Altoidstins1b.jpg


In addition to the mints, many people buy Altoids simply to get the handy little tins. Some people use them as simple containers for household items such as paper clips, little sewing kits and coins. Others use them as ashtrays, miniature survival kits and first aid kits.


Typical Altoids survival kit.
Source: http://www.fieldandstream.com/photos/gallery/survival/food/
2006/08/make-survival-kit-out-altoids-tin-and-two-more-life-saving-diy-


And then there are the people who think up wild and woolly ways of using Altoids tins. Even the most rudimentary online search for "Altoids tin" turns up inventive uses such as working amplifiers, flashlights, speakers, a thumb piano, a crystal radio, a barbecue grill, and even a projector.


Altoids tin projector, made by Leonidas Tolias.
Source: http://www.leonidastolias.com/Site/Pocket_Projector.html


Altoids tins are also a favourite plaything for artists. Shrines, dioramas, shadowboxes, zen gardens, coin purses, mouse houses and picture frames are just a few of the uses I've seen.


Elaborate altered Altoids tin by Laura Carson, 2011.
Source: http://artfullymusing.blogspot.ca/search/label/Altoids%20Tins


Although I'm a sucker for any kind of tin container, I only have two actual Altoid tins: one really small tin, and a regular-sized one. I had no idea what I was going to make for today's elephant, but I thought the larger tin might be more practical.






At first, I wasn't sure what kind of thing to produce. I'm by no means an electronic genius, or I would have tried to figure out how to make something that trumpeted like an elephant when the tin was opened. Or that lit up. Or that featured a little dancing elephant. I thought about making a little stuffed elephant tucked up in bed, but I didn't feel like sewing today. I felt like drawing and cutting things out, so I decided I would do some kind of elephant diorama, since I'm quite taken with mixed-media art created inside Altoid tins.

I determined at the outset that I didn't want to paint or otherwise alter the exterior of the tin. This wasn't laziness on my part, as much as a desire to preserve the original look of the tin. So I turned my attention to the insides.

A couple of days ago, a friend suggested that when I finish this yearlong adventure I should go bond with some elephants in Tanzania's Ngorongoro Crater. Just in case I can't afford it right away, I thought I'd try and make a mini-diorama of a similar scene to tide me over.

I traced out two shapes from artist-quality bristol board to fit into the upper and lower lids of the tin. Because I needed a backdrop for my scene, I then looked online for photographs of the landscape in the Ngorongoro Crater. This is what I came up with, although I won't put in quite so many trees.


Elephant in Ngorongoro Crater, Tanzania.
Photo: © Blake Harrington III
Source: http://blaineharrington.photoshelter.com/image/I0000uCj6rW1hJ4s


I drew everything first. For the upper lid, I drew a sort of postcard scene, with Mount Kilimanjaro in the background. Having never been to Tanzania, I'm not sure you can actually see Kilimanjaro from inside the crater, so I may be taking a bit of artistic license here. There are photos online that suggest that Kilimanjaro is visible from Ngorongoro, but you can't believe every caption you read.

For the lower section, I didn't draw anything, since I planned to paint the background freehand, along with a framing strip to go around the inside of the wall of the tin.




Next, I tried to figure out how many little figures I should insert into the scene. I wanted to stagger their placement in foreground and background, but it's a very shallow space, so I didn't go overboard. I drew the figures onto the same bristol board.




I heat-set all the drawings with a hairdryer, then painted everything. In the process, I added narrow tabs at the bottom of the little figures, so that they would stand up when affixed to the tin.








When everything was dry, I started by glueing the Kilimanjaro scene into the upper lid with double-sided tape. I did the same with the backdrop in the lower section, and added the framing strip all the way around. I had goofed a bit on one side of the framing strip, in terms of where the sky met the ground, but it wasn't horrendous.

After this, I cut out all the little bits, pre-folding the lower tabs against a metal ruler. I then glued each of the tabs with a glue stick, and placed them in what I thought was a pleasing arrangement on the lower part of the framing strip. I laid them flat to apply them, then folded each piece forward and creased it sharply.




It took me a while to make all of this, but it wasn't particularly difficult. And I didn't really mind, because it was the kind of thing I felt like doing today.





Although I wasn't sure when I started how well this would turn out, I'm happy with the final piece. In fact, I may just have to go out and buy some more Altoids, just to get the tins.





Elephant Lore of the Day
When she arrived at the Bristol Zoological Gardens in 1868, Zebi was the largest Asian elephant in captivity. Standing three metres (ten feet) in height, Zebi had been sent as a gift to the Zoo by the Maharaja of Mysore.

Zebi was a highly popular attraction at the time, particularly for her antics. She was no respecter of persons or their possessions, and appeared to take great delight in removing and eating whatever took her fancy. She had a particular taste for the straw hats popular among both men and women at the time. If she discovered a straw hat within reach of her trunk, Zebi would blithely pluck it from the wearer's head and eat it.

She also had an interest in wooden objects. Her most famous acquisition was a cricket bat carried by a young boy. Snatching the bat from the child, Zebi quickly reduced it to splinters, then ate it.

Although later elephants acquired by the Bristol Zoo gave rides to children, it doesn't appear as though Zebi ever allowed riders on her back. Sadly, following six months of ill health, Zebi was euthanized in 1910.


Zebi and her keeper Jim Rawlings, ca. 1901.
Photo: © PA
Source: http://www.metro.co.uk/news/pictures/photos-10722/pictures-
bristol-zoos-175th-birthday/2