I have been frequenting our National Museum for years now, always wondering how to spend time with my favorite paintings. It might seem odd, but I struggle to find a way to look at any painting for very long. Even Munchs monumental works at the Munch Museum, which are truely large, fail to captivate me for long. I would rather visit the paintings every day and see different things, than sit there for very long. Only a few minutes go by before i am out of there.
Yesterday I did a new and for me, courageous thing. I drew at the museum. I have heard so many fellow artists say how they love the experience, but never saw myself doing it. I have been so scared of looking pretentious, or weird. But enough was enough, as I know this is only in my head, and that people really don’t care that much. They might glance over asking themselves if that person is any good, try and sneak a peek, find out I am average, like everyone else, and forget all about it.
It was a spontatneous visit. My husband had to go into the city for a couple of hours, so I caught a ride down. It’s only 15 min away. As I was walking up to the building of our National Museum, a feeling fell into my chest. I have to draw today, that is my mission. That was the one thing I felt like I had to get out of the visit today. It was the natural next step for my visits.
Having no sketchbook with me, I headed to the museum shop and splurged (as you have to do there, so expensive) on a small sketchbook and a funny pencil. It was terribly designed with a painting of munch around all the sides of it, but the lead was made of many different colors thrown toghether in irregular patterns. And it was the most fun I have ever had sketching.
I entered the museum thinking they might stop me from bringing it in. Luckily they didn’t. I kept it all in the small paper bag from the shop, to up my chances of taking it in too. Silly really.
So I was in, and headed up to the Munch room, where the lights are a bit dimmed. I love the mood there. Everyone walks slowly around whispering, and the guards sneak up on you with their rubber shoes, like friendly ghost. They scare me a bit, since I have always been terrible at getting too close to paintnigs to study the strokes, without realizing I have crossed that sacred line. And getting a light scolding.
The book.
Lucky for me, the guards didn’t seem to mind med drawing. The little sketchbook also fit perfectly into the pocket of my jacket, the pencil too. It was all meant to happen now. So I sat down, folded the soft sketchbook page completely around the back to make it as small as possible, took out the pencil, and started drawing munch in his wicker chair. I had found a bench fairly close to it. Then I drew a horse from another painting. Only one person glanced over while walking by, and there were maybe 20 people in the room. It felt great, the nerves were slowly letting go of the hold on me.
The pencil.
It felt magical to draw with. The colors were changing very fast, and created a wonderful life and vibrancy. Getting lights and darks right were a challenge, so after a while I let that go completely, only focusing on the shapes, and fluidity of my drawing. Then I started going over lines that were too light to bee seen several times until I had achieved the right contrast.
The breakthrough.
So the greatest surprise for me, from this hour at the museum yesterday was actually not that I managed to draw, but how I saw the paintings. I ended up spending most time with a painting by Munch called “Dagen derpå”, the day after, meaning after an evening out. As my nerves were gone, I started looking at the paintings differently, observing closely as I drew it. It was quite fast though, as the museum was closing soon. I only had one hour to spend there. But I saw the painting in a new light. I noticed details in how he drew her body laying down. The sharp diagonal line from one shoulder to the other. How her chin almost disappeared into her neck. Things I just don’t notice just standing there looking. The curves were my favorite part though. They felt like a beautiful melody.
The drawing was not much to call home about, but the experience was the value. I am already looking forward to next time. To spending time with different paintings, seeing more closely how they were resolved.
I have thought long and hard about why this is the best way for me to best grasp the artistry and way of working, and so far this is what I have come up with. There is something about taking it in one piece at a time. How is the face tilted. Where does the torso end. How is it all connected, with swooping lines, or sharp edges. One after the other, until I have gone over the whole thing. Then the contrast, the shadows, and the facial features.
Drawing it forces me to split it all up. Just looking at it is very overwhelming to me. The only thing I can think about then really is how it ALL makes me feel. And with a great painting, to me that is like a water kettle, it comes to a boil and turns off, and I move on to the next painting.
Thank you for listening!
Love,
Elisabeth
