Chair drawing #3

Well, it's a lot cheaper an obsession to have than, say buying too many high grade artisanal pipes or multiple vintage Saabs, right?

11 9/16 x 8 1/4, watercolor pencils

Nora and the chair

As many times as I’ve done drawings of this chair, well over thirty by now I’m sure, I never drew it while anyone was sitting in it. A few winters ago when I half filled a sketchbook with drawings of it done while I was working my way through various unruly moods, I began to think of the chair as a metaphoric representation of myself. I even considered doing a series of large pieces in soft pastel, and for months carried a picture around in my head of the empty chair with the featureless shadow of a man standing behind it, but decided that the idea was just too hokey, not to mention a sure way to set off a holocaust of unconstructive self criticism triggered by what would certainly have been disappointing results. But still, every time I look at it I think of it as having a personality that goes beyond its chair-ness. And I’m feeling compelled to draw it almost to obsession once again. I have not thought I’d draw it with people in it. Not, at least, until this evening.

Tonight after supper, I came upstairs to the studio to get a book to read, but my eyes fell on my closed black sketchbook sitting on the far end of the worktable. I picked it up along with a couple boxes of pencils, thinking that I’d settle down to a longer than usual drawing session down in the living room, keeping my daughter Nora company. When I got down there though, Nora had tucked herself comfortably into the lap of the chair, and without a tick of hesitation, I sat down on the sofa, pulled out a 9B graphite pencil, and told her to try to sit still for long enough to let me include her in the drawing. Of course, she moved constantly, both unconsciously (rubbing her nose, shifting her legs, shoulders, and head), and on purpose – making faces and laughing. If you haven’t ever done it, I can tell you that trying to capture a likeness freehand with pencil on paper of one of your children is intimidating, but I’ve learned over the past several months to block out the voices in my head predicting failure. Like horrid mermaids swimming through my brain, they paralyze me if I listen to their whispering for even an instant, so I have to stay ahead of them by drawing fast. And hell, for all her squirming around and "Can I move yet, Dad?", this actually kind of looks like Nora in that chair. Maybe I should just not spoil it for myself by showing it to her.

Revisiting an old friend

Our house is furnished with a ragtag collection of mismatched furniture, from curbside refugees like the walnut veneered sliding door credenza in the living room that our stereo equipment rests on, to the 9 foot long nubbly wool covered sofa from 1955 that came out of a nostalia shop in Lancaster, to the antique fumed oak Stickley library table sitting across the room. Some of it I acquired new and paid for in installments that stretched over years. My very low production Hans Wegner dining table with the set of Arne Jacobsen "7" series chairs falls into that category, purchased when I was relatively poor and in my twenties, and special ordered from a shop in Denmark. A few pieces were gifts, notably my Arts & Crafts smoking cabinet, and a gorgeous patterned deep pile wool carpet that defines the living room space, both from my wife. I could ramble on about these cherished objects all afternoon but I digress from the main topic here.

Four years ago, partly to pull myself out of a nasty little bout with my old friend Depression, I did a series of two dozen drawings of a favorite chair in our living room. It's an old chenille clad fireside chair that Tina bought at an estate sale in Philadelphia, when she was breaking up with her first husband ten years before we met. A large, heavy piece that even then needed to be re-upholstered, she paid $175 for it and carried it home herself, proud of the first piece of furniture she had acquired for herself that she really liked. She was never able to find vintage fabric that she felt would be suitable, and so it has continued to become more ragged. I've re-tied the springs and done an amateur job of stuffing the disintegrating cotton batting back into the seat two or three times. And as tempting as it would be to have it professionally redone, I have always loved it for its deep, worn out comfort and fraying, faded fabric. If we made it like new, I suspect that much of its appeal, at least for me, would be lost. And it wouldn't be nearly as much fun or as interesting to draw.

 

I have my own private reasons for choosing to do so many drawings with pipes as subjects, and they have less to do with my admitted fascinated obsession with pipes than with something more difficult to articulate. So with this chair. And yes, to the very sharp eyed and imaginative pipe connoisseur, that is a Jack Howell 283 shape "A Passion for Pipes" 2011 Pipe of the Year, sitting on the arm, and no, I am not allowed to smoke while sitting in it.

Adam and Colleen

Since we are, after a fashion, talking about pairings today, here are Adam and Colleen. A breathtakingly simple and beautifully made Adam Davidson bamboo shank Rhodesian resting on the rim of a Waterford crystal claret glass from the Colleen series, each just emptied of its respective contents at the end of the evening up in the studio loft. Both difficult objects to represent convincingly without giving in to the compulsion to over render them.

9B graphite with a hint of Derwent Inktense colored pencil

Marilyn and Scarlett

Years ago, about twenty five years, I bought several Karisma Graphite Aquarelle pencils in the Very Soft grade. They have a thick lead, leave a rich black mark, and produce a wonderful smear with a little moisture and a swipe of the thumb or fingertip across the paper. At some point, they went out of production and artists who had enjoyed using them have yet to discover an adequate substitute. And there isn't one. There are other water soluble pencils on the market, and some of them are really pretty good, but they are no more the same than Scarlett Johansson is the same as Marilyn Monroe. Beautiful, soft, smoky, sensuous and desirable, yes, but not the same.

Anyway, I've hoarded my last few stubs of this lovely drawing media and used them sparingly. Mostly I've just looked at them when I pick a soft pencil out of one of my pencil tins, wishing there were more. But they're no good if they don't get used. And it's very satisfying to use them roughly. Here is a morning toss, using a Karisma Aquarelle with Derwent watercolor pencils. A quickie before work with Marilyn and Scarlett together. I think I need a smoke.