Citizen Sketcher

Every year at the USK Symposium I get a chance to sketch with UK artist and illustrator Lynne Chapman. (That’s her on the far right in this lunch time doodle).

So I know Lynne as an urban sketcher and as the author of Sketching People: An Urban Sketcher’s Manual to Drawing Figures and Faces.

Imagine my surprise to find out that in addition to our shared hobby of urban sketching, Lynne is also an accomplished book illustrator with over 30 picture books to her credit.

I am also pleased to see she’s recently become a fellow Craftsy.com instructor, releasing her first course Expressive Picture Book Characters.

Lynne has produced an in-depth how-to on her subject: how to invent light-hearted stylized figures for children’s books – with an emphasis on capturing personality and conveying the emotion of the story.

It’s an excellent primer for anyone interested in making picture books for their own friends and family, or for those building their portfolio as a professional illustrator. If this sounds interesting. have a look at the trailer:

Here on Citizen Sketcher, I’m somewhat focused on the art of location sketching – but I’m also fascinated with the other kinds of artwork a sketch artist can get up to.

To that end I’ve asked Lynne three short questions about the crossover between her professional illustration and her personal sketching practice.

Three Questions with Lynne Chapman:

MTH: So Lynne – you’re a dedicated Urban Sketcher, organizing drawing events with USK Yorkshire among other interesting location sketching projects.

Let’s talk about this split between sketching from the real world and your more imagination based work as an illustrator. What sort of skills or attitudes carry back and forth? Are there any ways one practice improves or influences the other?

LC: Years and years of drawing from life have definitely made my life as an illustrator much easier. The link is not direct – I don’t take images from my sketchbooks and work them up into book illustrations – but the constant observation and interpretation I practice as an urban sketcher, means I can have a pretty good stab at drawing most things I need to, from my head.

I usually need reference for the detail though: ask me how all the bits of a bike join together and I’ll have no idea, but I could still do a passable sketch of somebody riding one!

MTH: Can you tell us a bit of what that it’s like when you’re doing a book project – maybe let’s talk about the ones you write and draw entirely yourself. How do you start making the ideas real – is it a slow burn or a creative sprint? About how long does it take from beginning to end?

LC: It’s a far more drawn-out process than most people realize. When I get an idea for a story, I progress it by brainstorming-sketching on a big sheet of paper, creating possible narrative directions and quickly capturing funny pictures which pop into my head (this is where the drawing practice is so vital).

I leave it and come back to it, several times over a period of anything from a couple of weeks to a few months (so I have fresh eyes), changing things, ironing out problems, adding more images and fine-tuning the dialogue. That’s just the beginning though.

I next have to tweak the story line, to make it split into 14 double-page spreads (to fit the standard picture book format), then design all the spreads and draw it all out in pencil, ready to take to a publisher.

That bit takes around a month. If I sell the idea, I will probably need to rework it yet again (which could be anything from minor tinkering to almost an entire rewrite. The end usually takes a lot of getting right).

Eventually, I begin the pastel artwork, which generally takes me another couple of months. So, I am usually drawing a book for 3-4 months, but working on it, on and off, for more like 6. It takes another full year before it hits the shops.

MTH: On a personal note – you’re currently doing a location drawing themed artist-in-residence program at Manchester University’s Morgan Center for Research into Everyday Lives (which sounds a bit like a cover for government surveillance!). Can you tell us a bit about that project?

LC: Ha ha – so it does! It’s actually the center for sociological research and their work is really interesting. As artist-in-residence, I am sketching a portrait of a-year-in-the-life of the department.

I have been sitting among students on the grass or in the refectory, sketching them and their conversations; I’ve been a fly-on-the-wall in corridors and at meetings; I have sat in on lectures and PHD tutorials; I even created a portrait of the centre’s director, as seen through the contents of her desk drawer!

Probably the best bit is that I am shadowing various researchers. I have been sketching a project about how we interface with the weather (very pertinent with all the floods we’ve been having) and am just getting started on another one called Dormant Things – all about the objects we all no longer need, but can’t quite bring ourselves to throw away.

One afternoon we went into a woman’s house and I drew the hoarded contents of her hall cupboard! I’m using concertina-format sketchbooks, (ed note: we say accordion books over here) so I get a sense of a continuous narrative, an ongoing journey. I’ve filled loads already.

MTH: Following up with that – when you go into the world to do an extended sketching project – how does your background in writing books and storytelling with characters come into play?

LC:  It’s interesting that, though the two kinds of work look very different, there is this strong link, through my interest in storytelling. I didn’t realize that myself until quite recently.

This sketching project is perfect for me as I am far more interested in capturing the flavor of what is happening throughout an entire day than creating drawings which are unrelated snapshots. I love how the concertina book allows images to flow into one another and how the linear format adds a sense of time moving through the work.

The other interesting link between my children’s book work and my reportage is humor.

The ideas and images I pull from my imagination, when I am telling stories for children, are almost always founded in some kind of humor. Now, I am noticing that, when I am recording what is happening in the Morgan Center, I tend to see the funny side, which means I project some of myself back into the images, both through what I pick up on to draw and by the comments I often flow around the image.

MTH: Now you’re bringing your picture book experience to Craftsy fans – what was your primary “teaching goal” for this new class? – what do you want  people to take away?

LC: I chose to help people with characterization, because it is the most important aspect of telling a children’s story, or any story for that matter.

Your reader must totally believe in your characters, in order to be drawn into the dramatic tension: you need to make them care.

People so often struggle with this and yet a few simple pointers can make a massive difference. I have been sharing tips in schools for years, helping kids (and teachers) to create their own characters, and I’ve seen people’s delight at what they can do with a bit of guidance.

So, I crammed everything together into these 7 lessons: all my hot tips and everything I know about drawing personality, conveying emotions, communicating movement and vitality… it was quite a squeeze I can tell you!

But, by the time you have worked through the class, you should be able to draw any character you like: any animal or person; and make them funny, cute or mean, old or young.

Most importantly, through facial expressions and simple body-language, you will know how to convey what is going on inside their head.  Best of all, it’ll be fun!

MTH: You can find our more about Lynne Chapman and all her various projects on her blog and her website. Or pick up her book on Urban Sketching from all the usual bookshops.

I waited many years to get to the Mütter Museum in Philadelphia. it’s the sort of place where I can lose myself for hours. I love sketching a museum full of fascinating artifacts.

I actually managed a quick trip last year, but have debated a while before posting the drawings. You may want to skip this post if it’s not your kind of subject matter. That would be perfectly understandable.

In this case, the sketches aren’t just history. Mayan culture  or Samurai armor. But rather, a look at the fascinating machine that is a human body – and the things that might go terribly wrong with it.

The Mütter is a museum of medical oddities. Antique anatomical wet-specimens, plaster casts, wax models, osteological (bone) collections, and rare medical instruments.

There’s a bit of a Dr. Frankenstein feeling about the place. The collection was originally assembled by a Dr. Thomas Dent Mütter (1811-1859). Initially begin as a means of teaching his private students, Mütter later donated his specimens to the College of Physicians – backed up by a sizable monetary endowment to launch the museum, and a demand for an on-going commitment to public access and education.

Dr. Mütter must have been an interesting man. He is described as an “exceptionally gifted ambidextrous surgeon”. Which is strangely specific praise. How did he demonstrate this ambidexterity? Removing a burst appendix with one hand while stitching a perforated bowel with the other?

He is known to have been a very successful surgeon, training in Europe before establishing a practice assisting Dr. Thomas Harris in Philadelphia. (No relation to Hannibal Lector-Thomas Harris. I don’t think?)Mütter is said to have been a handsome man, with a confident bedside manner. He was also a pioneer in reconstructive surgery. One of the first nip and tuck artists. I can see him played by Robert Downey Jr or Daniel Day Lewis depending on the kind of bio pic you might want to make.

But I don’t mean to  make light. His work was apparently ground-breaking. He was restoring club feet and cleft palates – not injecting botox. These were surgeries that could give a patient a productive life, or just allow them to walk down the street without drawing stares and mockery.This was a time before anesthetic – something he introduced to America. It was also before doctors had a real understanding of anatomy or awareness about the spread of disease. He’s credited as an early advocate of Aseptic Technique – which we take for granted in this age of hand sanitizer at the Walmart.

I can see his passion for teaching. Working as he was, with all manner of medical quackery going on around him, he must have felt a great drive to show the world the science behind the surgery. This was knowledge that could truly improve people’s lives, if it only could be better known.Only a small percentage of the collection is on display at any one time. To be honest, what began as a teaching collection is now a kind of educational haunted house with annual attendance exceeding 130 thousand visitors.

I don’t suppose there’s anything too wrong with that. But the display is biased towards the grotesque over the simply factual. (As are my sketches, I admit).

Besides the mesmerizing examples of non-viable fetuses in jars, and a variety of conjoined twins, there are skeletons of the smallest dwarf and largest man on record. Amazing to see how the body tries to adapt our basic pattern. The dwarf and the giant have the same bones, just squeezed together or stretched apart.You might also see the skeleton of a man whose bones never stopped growing – all fused together in a jumble. Or an exhibit of Anthropological CSI – skulls of pre-humans demonstrating various kinds of historic murder.

The most disturbing for me was the example of a perfectly normal child’s skeleton labeled ‘Healthy Youth”. Apparently not that healthy. It seems unfair that a lad would beat the odds of all these birth defects, abnormalities and murders, yet still end up as bones in a cabinet.

It’s certainly an informative collection. And if it sparks a youthful interest in medicine or just sends you away with an appreciation for your own good health – or how recently we’ve invented modern medicine – well that’s probably enough learning for a day.
If you’re in the Philadelphia area the museum is open daily 10-5pm (barring a few holidays). Photography is not allowed, but if you’re a sketcher they’re ok with that. In fact, the museum has run drawing classes in the past, so you might inquire about upcoming opportunities for art in the collection.

If you’re not passing through town any time soon, you might be interested in the late curator Gretchen Worden’s excellent book: The Mutter Museum: Of the College of Physicians of Philadelphia.