My wife persuaded me to do a bit of demonstrating at a local sustainability event. I decided to do something with a reuse vibe. Printing on some card from tea-bag boxes and other packaging. I’d also got some small off-cuts of lino that were the right sort of size (about 3”x 4.5”).
And I reused the drawing, too. - revisiting the seated woman I’d used in this postcard and the Song of Solomon print with the fig.
When I’m doing these things, I get transported to all kinds of places. This time I couldn’t help but think about something Tal R said about drawing people. The problems presented by eyes, nose, hands,,, and feets. Don’t talk about feets.
I’ve noticed this in many of the great works of art I love. Look at Velásquez’ “Rokeby Venus” – see how he cleverly avoids having to do feet. Look at Manet’s Olympia – see how one foot is out of sight and the other is obscured by a handily dangling slipper. Titian in the Venus of Urbino has a go, but gets more tentative as he gets down the leg. I was surprised by a rather lovely lithograph by Lovis Corinth. His “Curtains of Solomon” illustration for the Song of Solomon has an expertly rendered woman finished off with a hastily scribbled pair of shoes. Even Schiele would prefer his models’ feet stockinged or in boots. Otherwise he hardly drew the feet at all.
There are of course plenty of artists who can manage feet. Bronzino could do lovely feet. And Goya. His Naked Maja has beautiful, dainty feet. Though her breasts are strangely pneumatic – it’s as if the model had small breasts and Goya expanded them without reference to gravity. And Matisse. Matisse isn’t afraid of feet. Even an Odalisque who could be wearing silk slippers. Bare feet. Sometimes quite big feet. Farm girls' feet. He’s right, though. You just have to do it.
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