Ryan-dog is not happy.
He’s a patient guy. However, lately I’ve been poking at his mouth and nose, minutely inspecting them, and there’s only so much of that one can take. He isn’t a snappish or grouchy fellow, but the baleful look is there, the very clear “Why must you do this to me?” message. Such is the life of an unwilling artist’s model.
This saga began about a year ago, when I observed the hound looking quite enviously at my son’s hot dog. While my son was distracted, he began sneaking up. Could he perhaps nibble the other end without anyone noticing? After all, it wasn’t as though it was being used. What a crime it would be to let an entire chunk of hot dog go to waste!
That, I thought, was a story worth telling.
This is the initial sketch for the picture, tentatively titled The Thief (or perhaps The Weiner Thief).
It is rough. I try to do a bunch of initial sketches quickly, and it’s fine if they’re untidy. Usually I set a timer for 20-30 minutes and try to knock out fifty sketches as quickly as possible. I’m after pose, gesture, composition. I’m thinking about what may go on in the picture, what I want to accomplish. What is the story? Where’s the emotion? Are the dog and the boy companionably sharing the hot dog and a few germs, or is there a bit of covert theft going on? How will that best be conveyed?
Here I’m beginning to think about how the pose may fit into a space. I’m thinking about the aspect ratio of the picture (the relationship of width and height) and maybe arranging the action and visual elements along golden sections. It’s still very rough. I’ll knock out a bunch of these in short order, trying different viewpoints (what if we see the scene from up high rather than eye level?) and crops (what if we just see the heads and the hot dog?).
I jot down notes as I do this, such as “Where is the sun?” That’s kind of important: we want the action well lit, with neither of the models blinded or with their faces in shadow.
In my mind, the scene is beginning to come into sharper focus. A boy and his dog are on a cookout, perhaps, with some greenery in the background. In the margins I’ve scrawled notes for supporting details: Band Aid on foot, turned up cuffs, bare dirty feet, slingshot in back pocket, worn jeans, pebbly dirt surrounded by bushes.
Starting to think about the anatomy of a weiner-basset. I do a few sketches like this, refining the dog’s pose, then I’m ready for the next step: reference photos.
Drawing from life is wonderful. One can make some incredibly energetic, gestural drawings when working very quickly from a live model. It can also be challenging, at least from the standpoint of gleaning details, when one is working with kids or animals. Thus, I took my kid and the dog outside – I have to pay my kid a modeling fee to get him to do this – and tried to set up something approximating the scene I had in mind. Reference photos.
This photo is a good start. It has some good material. The boy and the dog are making good eye contact and the dog has a nice stretched-out pose.
The photo also has some flaws. The boy’s hand is covering his face, and he’s kind of hunched over. The dog’s interest level is good, but the scene would be stronger if his mouth was open, about to bite. We can’t see the dog’s feet or the end of his tail, but those details can be cleared up later.
This is usually the way it goes. That’s why I say “reference photos” plural. It takes some work to realize the vision in one’s head.
Note that there isn’t a log for the boy. Despite the astonishing collection of flotsam in the yard, I don’t have a log, so I substituted a stool of about the right height. The log will have to get drawn in later.
And … the dog stole the hot dog, so that’s the end of that modeling session. He’d happily pose all day, chugging down hot dogs about as quickly as he could grab them. However, that would be kind of bad for his health.
I shot some more photos of my son holding the empty bun after this, trying to deal with the issue of his hunching over with his hand covering his face.
Another day, another modeling session. I really wanted a reference shot of the hound with his mouth open. However, extreme cunning would be required to get the photo without the entire hot dog disappearing. I only knew one person brave and wily enough for this job: my husband. He and the dog danced back and forth for quite some time, with that tantalizing hot dog just out of reach.
With that, I had about enough reference material to come up with a composite sketch, which I finalized in Adobe Illustrator. Sections of this image got printed out onto about 35 sheets of paper, which I then taped together to form a scale cartoon for transfer onto fabric. I could simply order a large print from the local Kinko’s, but picking it up would require combing my hair and leaving the house.
Some of the details on the printout are pretty vague. After the large print is made, I refine them with pencil and then a Sharpie.
Here’s the heart of the action, the boy and the dog making eye contact over the hot dog and the dog about to make a grab at it. The line of action flows all the way down the dog’s back, forming a diagonal in the picture.
Here’s a section of the underpainting in progress, after the cartoon has been traced onto white cotton. I’m working in ink this time, although I’m beginning to wish I’d gone for soy sizing and watercolor. The soy sizing really helps combat the bleeding which can occur with diluted pigment.
C’est la vie. The journey begins.
