There’s not much more uplifting than to watch dozens of talented middle-schoolers play in the Baltimore Symphony Youth Orchestra.
Illustration: “Baltimore Symphony Youth Orchestra,” watercolor, gouache, pen and ink by Black Elephant Blog author (2017)
It is hard to imagine how their performance could have been any more professional!!
This concert was held in the Meyerhoff Symphony Hall in downtown Baltimore, Maryland on Mother’s Day 2017.
While preparing for a presentation (and a little book stemming from it), and doing some color studies for sketches to accompany them, the news has continued to be very distracting as it is presumably for everyone. In the last 24 hours alone, from a journalist sent crashing to the floor allegedly “body slammed” by a person aspiring to elected office (or is he already in office?)–to confirmation from the CBO (Congressional Budget Office) that the health of our nation is going to take a huge body blow if the latest health care plan is passed–to disconcerting news about NATO (also “body slammed?”), it is tough to keep one’s eyes on the task at hand. But perhaps the combination of these colliding impressions is good for something after all…
In sorting through older material, I came across the famous “boiling frog”–a metaphor, of course, for not noticing when there are gradual changes in your surroundings, until it is too late. According to the metaphor, a frog in a pot of slowly heating water will not react quickly enough to save himself and will eventually die. (This is literally not true; the frog will jump out if he can, apparently. I myself have not tested it, but I respect scientists and experts and they have).
Image: Watercolor, gouache, and ink by Black Elephant Blog author (2014)
This is a week too in which we have heard the word “suborn” used in open testimony. It’s a useful word. It seems related to another one rarely heard: “inure”, which the dictionary defines as “becoming accustomed to something, especially something unpleasant.” (Perhaps this is a good time to recommend a currently best-selling new little book, available on Amazon for less than $6: On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons From the Twentieth Century,” by Timothy Snyder, a professor of history at Yale.)
With so much coming at us almost hourly, it sometimes seems like the fate of the world is being decided right now.
Illustration: Color study, Watercolor, acrylic and gouache, “Where Do We Go From Here?” by Black Elephant Blog author (2017)
People are tired of being distracted by it but the most conscientious know that too much is at stake to turn away. Much as we might like to, we can’t tune out what is going on because it’s unfortunately true– the fate of the world is being decided right now. And if we tune out, we will surely not be as fortunate as the sensitive frog who manages to escape the dangers of his warming world.
So, we must not become inured to the bruising pace of the news cycle. It seems to me essential to find ways collectively to both deal with every incoming distraction and yet look beyond it to make sense in time of where we are going and might wish to go instead.
Momentous times indeed, but I have faith we will prove to be at least as smart as frogs. So back to the drawing board…
While taking a break from work this week (as well as from the always overwhelming news especially with the tragic reports this week from the already unimaginably devastated Syria), I came across four colored bottles perched side-by-side at the back of a shelf in a store. As they were priced to sell, I bought them with the thought that they’d be great for watercolor projects. Painting glass objects is something I see watercolor artists do all the time–at least online– and many of them exhibit a great deal of talent in their work. This seemed like a good exercise for me at this point. So I propped them up on my angled drafting table, where they picked up the daylight, and considered what would be involved.
Illustration: Photo of colored bottles in a window
Today I decided that I’d use the new-on-the-market L’Aquarelle Canson Heritage 140 lb. hot press paper. I’d noticed in the past month that it takes watercolor very well without being too absorbent so I hoped to achieve a more transparent look with the bottle project. As with any paper, it takes some testing to figure out how much paint to apply for different results.
First, though, I did a draft on a smaller piece of Canson cold press watercolor paper in a sketchbook I’ve come to like for carrying around outdoors; the paper quality is great and the spiral notebook opens flat and is light. As I did this, I considered how to match the colors of the actual bottles.
The amber-yellow glass bottle in my small collection suddenly reminded me of the largish tube I have of the so-called “brown pink” watercolor paint by Sennelier. I know that this paint, despite its storied history as a favorite of the likes of John Singer Sargent, is controversial due to its suspected or proven problems with lightfastness. I have not tested it but I did want to use it for this watercolor as I suspected that the “brown pink” shade would come close to matching the yellow-green tint of the glass bottle, and I was right.
As you can see, I do have a lot of the brown pink paint (which says right on the tube “N.R.”, meaning “not rated” (for lightfastness) and, fortunately, I discovered that I like its effects on paper very much.
Brown pink watercolor paint
Today’s experts on watercolor paints would probably advise against using it at all, but certainly for art you are not selling–and art you are doing in the privacy of your own home!–it must be ok. (The reason experts advise against using such “fugitive” paints is that they have a reputation for not holding their color under prolonged exposure to light. Introducing paintings into the art market using fugitive paints tends to compromise the ability of other watercolor artists, who don’t use fugitive paints, to get the best prices for their art work, according to these arguments.)
Following some sketching to get a bit more confident drawing the bottles, I turned to the larger sheet of watercolor paper, taped to a strong board. I used a bit of masking fluid to hold some small spaces white on the bottles, and also used some drafting tape to cover up the surface of the drafting table depicted in the drawing.
Toward the end of the day, my painting looked like this (photo below). The project held my attention as I am not accustomed to trying to achieve the transparency of glass in watercolor. The bottles also have some decorative effects which I tried partially to capture. I will keep the bottles handy to practice more transparent watercolor painting–perhaps even fugitively, with my one or two of my favorite fugitive watercolors.
Illustration: Watercolor, gouache, and pen and ink, “Brown Pink Bottle Et.Al.”, by Black Elephant Blog author on 9.1″x12.2″ L’Aquarelle Canson Heritage hot press paper (April 2017)
Illustration: Watercolor, pencil and charcoal copy (approximately 9 x 12 on the new Canson Heritage Aquarelle hot press paper) by Black Elephant Blog author of Paul Signac’s watercolor (circa 1926?) of the town of Bourg-Saint-Andeol
In times of uncertainty, there’s no question that a hobby can be helpful! So amid the swirl of information which responsible citizens must keep on top of somehow (greatly taxing the “left brain”), it’s important to make time for that hobby.
It can be relaxing–I imagine sort of like those “zen-tangles”–to take on the task of trying to copy a painting by a master. The beauty of this approach is that you don’t need the perfect day weather-wise–you can try this almost anywhere.
Illustration: Watercolor copy (on a quarter sheet of Arches cold press) by Black Elephant Blog author after John Singer Sargent’s “Simplon Pass” (1911, oil on canvas) at the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.
To serve as my model will either be a photo I’ve taken of the original, as in the case of John Singer Sargent’s (1856-1925) “Simplon Pass” painting in oil, or simply a painting selected from an art book, as in the case of the Paul Signac watercolors I’ve found in a beautiful book, Paul Signac: A Collection of Watercolors and Drawings (Harry N. Abrams, Inc., Publishers in association with the Arkansas Arts Center, 2000).
Signac (1863-1935), like Sargent his contemporary, is best known for his oil paintings, but I came across a couple of watercolors of his during a recent visit to the Barnes Collection in Philadelphia.Signac’s style, known as neo-impressionism, intrigued me as did his compositions, mostly of port scenes with lots of ships and masts. It seems he was an inveterate ‘urban
Illustration: Watercolor with charcoal copy (approximately 9×12 Canson Heritage Aquarelle hot press) by Black Elephant Blog author of Paul Signac’s “Still Life” (c. 1924 or 1918)
sketcher’ as so many of these watercolors clearly were done ‘live’, as it were, at the site.
One learns almost by osmosis about composition, color, and light effects when trying to copy the masters. It is an elaborate and structured form of doodling as you don’t have to do as much planning but you can still relax and have fun. There is more pressure when you are doing your own work, from start to finish. Copying from anyone else, even the masters, is still just copying…–and not something I want to do as a matter of anything other than as a learning exercise. As all good teachers will tell you, it’s important to do your own original work, which means using your own photos, if you are using photos, or take the step to obtain permission from the owner of the photo you’d like
Illustration: Photo of book cover
to use. But in the case of learning from the Masters, there’s nothing like copying to try to re-trace their thought processes and choices (really strategic decision-making!) in composing their works of art. In the end result, usually: The destination remains elusive for all but the rarest of artists but the journey’s worth taking, familiarizing me a bit more with individual works of art by the masters.
Illustration: Watercolor by Black Elephant Blog author (December 2016)
As 2016 winds down, it’s fitting in the quiet week before a New Year to consider the meaning of Black Elephants, Black Swans and the other metaphorical creatures of surprise, such as the boiling frog, who opened up this blog two years ago this month. There’s been a lot more attention given to them since then in other venues. It’s surprising but true. It’s equally surprising but true that the journey of many artists has, it seems to me, much to offer the rapidly changing world in which we find ourselves today–if we were to want to face up to these creatures of surprise. This is because artists often try to see beyond the surface impressions to get at the truth of things–that’s what gives art its special meaning to many of us.
One could even say that we live in Black Elephant times if, by that, what we mean is what Thomas Friedman referred to in his op-ed of two years ago, called “Stampeding Black Elephants.” In that article, he defined the metaphor “Black Elephant” as follows:
“a cross between “a black swan” (an unlikely, unexpected event with enormous ramifications) and the “elephant in the room” (a problem that is visible to everyone, yet no one still wants to address it) even though we know that one day it will have vast, black-swan-like consequences.”
As I understand it, the phrase (which Friedman picked up from an environmentalist he’d recently met) “Black Elephants” refers to the concept of the uncomfortable, unthinkably unpalatable “elephant in the room” that we would rather not discuss or acknowledge, and therefore–too often–fail to address in time. (This is also known as the “boiling frog syndrome,” or the “ostrich with its head in the sand,” or the “deer in the headlights” syndrome, etc.)
Image: Watercolor, gouache, and ink by Black Elephant Blog author (2014)
This concept covers the increasingly (but extraordinarily dangerous) popular tendency to avoid what the accumulated history of knowledge and scientific progress tells us to be true. And so, perhaps it is another “Black Elephant” to observe that these “elephants” may be multiplying right now (paradoxically and quite sadly as their real-life versions dwindle in number due to poaching and encroachment on their natural habitat.) Facing up to these “elephants” is something that calls for well-honed critical and creative thinking skills–whereby people of all backgrounds including, of course, artists–join forces in shedding new light and creating new possibilities for dealing with the challenges of today in a fact-based way. This is in fact how mankind has conquered so many diseases that previously killed so many in childhood. Understanding how innovative breakthroughs occur,and accelerating our society’s capacities for innovation in so many sectors, are right now key to survival on a collective level.
Fortunately there is more awareness of these challenges, as well as our own inherently human desire to ignore them–aided by the fact of more frequent “black elephant” and “black swan” events in the last two years alone. It turns out this awareness extends well into the suites of CEOS around the world. I refer in particular to a recent paper, Thinking the Unthinkable: A New Imperative for Leadership in a Digital Age, which I’ll turn to soon. Last month I had an opportunity to hear the authors brief an audience on their research findings, and found their conclusions compelling enough to include in a revised syllabus for the coming semester of classes. Interestingly, they too distinguish in their report between “Black Swans” and “Black Elephants”; the creatures of surprise are everywhere!
Illustration: Watercolor, gouache, ink, pencil, gesso, and coffee grounds by Black Elephant Blog author (2014)
But for now with another spring-like day of temperatures in the 60s Fahrenheit, it’s time to be out enjoying the warm December weather, and re-charging our own personal energy reserves for what promises to be a challenging 2017! Best wishes to all for a joyous New Year!
Painting in the outdoors, or “plein air,” is a popular past-time for artists and great practice for everyone who wants to learn to appreciate their surroundings with new eyes. I am most likely to be found doing this on weekends when I have painting pals who want to be outdoors. But a few (most, actually) of the people with whom I correspond do not have much time to paint whether in or out of doors, so I thought I’d write a post about what art is teaching me about readiness for the unexpected.
The other day, I found myself in a setting devoted to sustainable gardening and wild meadows where my subject turned out to be a small garden statue of the ancient Greek god of the wilds, fields, and flocks, Pan, with his man-like body and a goat’s hind legs. The word “panic” is derived, I’ve since learned, from Pan’s name.
Illustration: Photo of garden statue of Pan at the River Farm, Alexandria, Virginia
This subject promised to be challenging, especially given changing circumstances. Sunlight vied with overcast skies, changing the shadows on the figure every few minutes. In addition, a wedding was scheduled for these very grounds in a short time, so planning ahead was of the essence. First off was a quick sketch to familiarize myself with this scene, and gain some idea of lights and darks.
Illustration: Quick sketch in terracotta watercolor pencil by Black Elephant Blog author
Such a sketch can boost confidence for the next step, though it is true that you never know how a sketch is going to turn out and many sketchbooks, like diaries, are private partly for this reason. Nor, increasingly, do we know what we will face, so sketching (or a rehearsal or a “scenario”of any kind) is a way to increase our readiness for the unexpected, a subject that received more attention in the early days of this blog.
Seeing Things Differently and Avoiding Panic Learning how to see in different ways, sometimes very quickly–including connecting with others who see things differently–is fundamental to survival, not only for the artist. It has been called various things including cognitive agility, mindfulness, and “rapid reflection.” But I’ve observed that it often doesn’t get the attention you’d expect for something so critical. In fact, in too many places, people are incentivized to ignore the unfamiliar and to treat it as irrelevant until an altogether too-obvious change in the status quo forces (some of) them to reconsider…and sometimes that is too late. (Even in the absence of crisis, such a disinterest in the world can harden into a lack of curiosity which calcifies one’s situational awareness at a dangerously low level. This has proven in the past to be particularly bad for living species of all kinds–not to mention modern-age businesses–and is especially risky in today’s world where we–and all our things, such as watches, cars, and phones–are more interconnected than ever before.)
Illustration: Watercolor on Arches Hot Press by Black Elephant Blog author
Topping off this day of plein air painting was the opportunity to see the movie, “Sully,” on the inspirational pilot and the first responders on that incredible day when a fully-loaded passenger plan had to land on the Hudson River. From painting Pan in the wilds, I was confronted with wild scenes that would leave most of us panic-stricken if we were in the midst of them.
Illustration: Photo from indiewire: http://www.indiewire.com/
But this is a film of human strength and prowess, strong team work, and genuine leadership. From the pilot and his co-pilot, to the crew, the ferryboat operators, air traffic control, and many other responders, the rapid response to this unprecedented event demonstrated the value of consciously preparing (across disciplines, stovepipes, and other boundaries) for the unexpected. In this case, one imagines that such pre-crisis teamwork contributed to enhancing preparedness for an unprecedented situation. Remembering the importance of the “human factor”, as per Sully when he explains himself to the NTSB (National Transportation Safety Board), is the critical difference. His performance seems to be an example of “rapid reflection” crisis management in action; this film carefully adheres to the facts of the crisis as it actually unfolded and, therefore, truly is a “must-see” for all those in top management, whatever the field.
I’ve been reminded regularly that true artists respect unintended consequences whereas experts of other stripes too often don’t. Artists regularly experiment with techniques and materials, and absorb others’ approaches like sponges; many experts of other stripes too often don’t. There is seemingly an important paradox in this.
In an age when many clearly believe it is more acceptable to bash experts than to emulate them, the aspiring artist knows that study of others’ solidly perfected techniques–and, beyond this, historical appreciation as to what has been humanly possible and achieved over time–leads to greater consciousness of our individual shortcomings and more rapid recognition of the truly exceptional (as the film, Sully, also reminds us). Recognizing these gaps can inspire us to be more curious and to learn more. At the same time, experts themselves must prepare for circumstances never before seen (and, thus, for which there is no sketch, textbook or field of expertise). Indeed, a certain cognitive and doctrinal flexibility seems necessary, at a minimum, lest very deep expertise lead us to think that everything can be scripted, measured, and predicted ahead of time–as the differences between the NTSB and Sully demonstrated in the film.
The artist with skill in applying paint (or ink or any other medium) to paper or canvas–and expertise such as pilot Sully’s extraordinary tacit knowledge of the limits of his airplane, his ability to derive quickly from different inputs the most sensible course of action, as well as his abiding awareness of the value of human life–demonstrate human capacities that total reliance on computers, for instance, or checklists can never achieve.
So, while it is true that you generally don’t want the pilot of your commercial jet to be creative in getting you from point A to B, the movie, Sully, does show us that adaptation in the face of the unexpected requires a degree of mindfulness (and openness to ongoing learning) that cannot be assumed. At their best, therefore, artists and experts of all types, whether commercially successful or not, seem to combine deep knowledge with a degree of cognitive flexibility that is hard to sustain from deep within “stovepipes” of all types, from academia to industry. Dealing effectively with this conundrum seems to me to one of the most important things we could do these days.
Illustration: Painting of Hubert Robert (22 May 1733 – 15 April 1808) Source: Wikipedia
Inspired by the outstanding exhibition now on at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. featuring the ink sketches, watercolors, and oil paintings of French 18th century painter, Hubert Robert (22 May 1733 – 15 April 1808), I’ve gone back to experimenting with waterproof inks and watercolor more intensively than ever (as per examples included at the very bottom of this post.)
Illustration: Watercolor by Hubert Robert, 18th century painter (Source: Wikiart)
Hubert Robert’s fantastically detailed watercolors (including use of gouache) are astounding. Accompanying placards in this exhibition note that such watercolors tended in those days to be sketches done for more finished oil paintings. In Robert’s case, however, the watercolors often were at least as detailed as the oil paintings he later produced based upon them. (Modern urban sketchers will appreciate the fact that Robert filled dozens of sketchbooks (I’ve forgotten the exact number) and one of them is on display in this exhibition; every page, front and back, is filled with wonderful ink sketches done in a deft but loose style.)
In another innovative departure from the times, Robert inserted human figures in many of his paintings–to help give a sense of scale to the structures–and adapted the fantastical “capriccio” style (or painted architectural fantasy) for his technique of juxtaposing paintings of ruins with other statues or bridges not actually co-located with the ruins in real life. In addition, he included more modern scenes, including those of contemporary laborers, artists and sketchers, and occasionally probably even himself, at work in the ruins.
Robert grew up in the midst of formal world-class art instruction from an early age, and it certainly shows. During the French Revolution, when he was thrown in prison due to his professional associations with his aristocratic clients, he managed to keep painting (and also managed to survive the ordeal); one of his dinner plates from prison is in this exhibition, with the surface painted with an ornate landscape. In addition, his paintings provide a visual record of life in the prisons during the Reign of Terror; the exhibition includes his paintings of a prison warden, a member of the aristocracy in his cell, and families entering the prison to bring their relatives food. Seeing paintings from this horrific time cannot help but remind one of the power of art, and wonder how much power still remains untapped in our modern times.
In addition, seeing such sublime art might make one want to throw in the towel, or the paintbrush, as it were. But it’s just as likely to make you want to learn more…and more…
Illustrations: Ink and watercolor sketches, “Guanajuato with El Pipila Statue on Hilltop”, and “Washington, D.C.” by Black Elephant Blog author
Illustration: Watercolor and pen and ink, “Woman Adjusting Potted Plant on Her Deck” by Black Elephant Blog author
Even if most of us can never achieve a tiny fraction of such mastery, it is still wonderful to experiment with the elements of such imaginative painting as Robert’s, and envision the possibilities down the road.
University classes are just about done but, just across the river, students in my pastel class are still in high-gear, clearly in no hurry to have this series of classes end. Here is a practice pastel worked up in the studio class after some sketches made not long ago. In the ever-expanding armory of art supplies, NuPastels have been joined now by Sennelier half-stick pastels in 120 colors. This is a messier medium than watercolor, for sure, and a whole lot more “forgiving.” It is just about as different as it could be, in fact. But, how do people go “urban sketching” –especially if traveling abroad–with such an array of tools–hard and soft pastels, paper of all kinds, etc? More “problems” to solve! 🙂
Illustration: Pastel sketch, “Japanese Garden at the Hillwood Estates, Washington, D.C.” by Black Elephant author
There’s nothing like being reminded for the umpteenth time to do a “thumbnail.” For those who don’t know, this is a (usually small) simple sketch or two before attempting to dive right into drawing or painting the work you have in mind. Often it takes a teacher to get through to you on this; for those more accustomed to “multi-tasking” and thinking it is doing some good, it requires a bit of discipline to keep slowing down.
Illustration: Value study sketch (Hillwood Mansion grounds) by Black Elephant Blog author
In my experience, this business of reinforcing what we’ve already supposedly learned is one of the main benefits of keeping anchored in a class or two–so that your habits do not become too sloppy. And of course you keep learning new stuff even as you are reminded about the “old stuff.”
So, in the current class in pastel painting, the teacher handed out this handy little value chart (which I’ve protected in a little plastic sheath–see photo below).
Illustration: Photo of value scale
When we do thumbnails or sketches, one purpose (besides mapping out a composition) is to do a value study–a study of the “values” or the tones or shades of contrast. While it is tempting (and normal) to jump right to the details, I have learned that the details often blind us to the really important things in art (and elsewhere?…) –like values, shapes and shadows. This requires re-training the brain for many of us. Doing value studies is the most direct form of problem-solving I’ve encountered so far in my art education. (And it seems quite transferable to other fields requiring problem-solving.)
While can be more fun to jump straight into colors (and sometimes, depending on what you are seeking to achieve, it is a good idea!), learning to see the values, shapes and shadows has its own delights. Doing this in different media, including water-soluble graphite…
Illustration: Value study in water-soluble graphite by Black Elephant Blog author
and conte crayon
Illustration: Conte crayon value study of Richard Serra metalwork sculpture (East Wing, National Gallery of Art) by Black Elephant Bog author
also provides valuable learning opportunities.
So during a recent visit to the majestic, privately-run Hillwood Museum and Gardens estate in the heart of Washington, D.C., the grounds were so beautiful underneath a
Illustration: Garden sculpture at the Hillwood Mansion and Gardens, Washington, D.C. –Photo by Black Elephant Blog author
clear blue sky that it was nearly impossible to go inside. Instead the sights of flowering trees and bushes, the gentle slope of the “Lunar Lawn”, and ornate garden sculptures were captivating. Frankly, it was a challenge to detect the “values” in different shades in such a riot of bright color. In addition, the diversity of people, from all over the world, and particularly Russian families, made it an even more memorable afternoon. (The Hillwood Estate of Marjorie Meriweather Post features the most comprehensive collection of Russian imperial art outside of Russia, according to its website.)
Such a glorious visit to the Hillwood mansion gardens has provided much fodder for future practice in value studies and beyond…
Illustration: Sketch of Toddler sitting in tall grass at Hillwood Mansion, Washington, D.C. by Black Elephant Blog author
Beautiful weather ensures motivated sketching and even follow-through to completed watercolors–especially if it all can be done ‘al fresco’. Keeping a pencil handy can help the hand and eyes stay limber, and make the most of even the unlikeliest compositions. This is a quick sketch for a potential watercolor done during a pause while passing by this restaurant earlier today. (It is fairly easy to sketch diners who are deeply engaged–as all these people were–in their conversations on a gorgeous afternoon.)
In the little oasis where this scene adjoins other restaurants around a fountain and near a lake, the calm is reenergizing and the colors extraordinary–if you have time to look. Here, in real-life, there were a lot of colors, including bright red tulips standing tall in a circle of yellow flowers in the big cement pots in the foreground, and bright tropical blue pillows on low-slung couches in the rear. Can this scene of colors and calm be captured in a watercolor or a pastel? There’s only one way to find out! And a bit later, with the help of some (Daniel Smith) Venetian Red, Cobalt Teal Blue, and Raw Sienna watercolors (as well as a few of the magical watercolors from the Sakura Koi pocket set):
Illustration: Watercolor and pen-and-ink on Arches Cold Press 140# paper by Black Elephant Blog author
Illustration: Photo of entrance to Sketching Room at the National Gallery of Art (April 2016)
As the university semester comes to an end, the focus in our class is on tying strands of inquiry together in an in-class simulation exercise. This week the students received a one-page scenario “sketch.” Scenario practice typically involves multiple (completely contrasting and credulity-stretching) stories or sketches for the purposes of ‘rehearsing the future,” increasing agility of thinking and planning today, and enhancing readiness for the unexpected. We do this because our course focuses on unconventional problems which in turn require unconventional approaches to problem-solving, examined earlier on this blog as in here, here, and here. (The current relevance attached in some circles to the importance of becoming more aware of our decision-making processes, and impediments to solving the complex problems of today, can be seen in projects and events such as this upcoming presentation, “Missing the Slow Train: How Gradual Change Undermines Public Policy and Collective Action” at the Wilson Center in Washington, D.C.)
But, our classroom process differs from standard scenario practice, though the goals remain similar. Having just considered case studies in the importance of “reframing the question” in order to design more effective problem-solving approaches to complex challenges, the students (who come from all over the world) have been given an intentionally unbounded rapidly-unfolding crisis situation in the form of a very sketchy sketch. This scenario is ambiguous in terms of ‘ownership’ or national or jurisdictional boundaries or even the exact facts on the ground (simulating reality). The students must even decide “who” they are in this simulation, in devising their plans by next week. Time is short, the situation completely unfamiliar, and two subgroups are working, respectively, in pre-crisis and post-crisis modes. Within these groups people must work together outside of their usual lanes and routines. There is no one in charge, at least initially. Usually the results are pretty impressive, surprising, and it’s a fun, albeit serious, way to end the semester. We all learn something in the process.
Sketching something imaginary?
We naturally start with sketches whether we are contemplating building a new deck on the house, designing a new organizational initiative, imagining something which we don’t see, or drawing a cartoon. Sketching has a role in seeing, as emphasized quite dramatically this very week (!) by a whole room devoted to sketching (complete with free sketchbooks and pencils) at the entrance to the National Gallery of the Art in Washington, D.C. So sketches can be something we draw, or practice (as on a stage,) or simulate in a classroom or a video game.
Photo: U.S. Capitol, Washington, D.C. taken by Black Elephant Blog author
Meanwhile a gorgeous Spring has provided the perfect palette to practice sketching in different media.
Illustration: Photo by Black Elephant Blog author
Toggling between so many sketch-able things has produced many “works-in-progress” and aspirations to finish them!
Illustration: Work -in-progress pastel sketch by Black Elephant Blog author
But each one is a step in a path towards hopefully something more polished. Sketching is also good for incubating ideas, sometimes over a period of many years, in notes, notebooks, doodles, and …sketches… awaiting a moment perhaps involving serendipity when well-honed ideas can finally be implemented. (Most of us know of people in history who, for various reasons (like survival) kept their own ideas and sketches hidden, like “The Origin of Species” written in the early 19th century, for a quarter of a century or more.)
Illustration: Work-in-progress watercolor by Black Elephant Blog author
It turns out, as many teachers have said over the past year, process matters if we are to make progress on tough challenges (whether in art, education, public health, or security matters) and create better outcomes. Complacency and routines can be deadly in this regard.
How curiously different is the world of artists from the world of those in many other professions. Artists must be original in order to have a chance at being successful, much as Georgia O’Keeffe was in adopting her various styles. But so many other professions discourage originality in part because it’s impossible to manage traditionally. As more and more challenges at the level of cities, regions, nations, and the world at large demand originality and creativity, traditional organizations are stumbling, although some are trying to adapt. It’s a tall order for most of them, but necessary. Would we better off if creativity and originality were emphasized, rather than stifled, beginning in primary school? One wonders. Meanwhile, it’s no wonder sketching is catching on like wildfire: sketch away!
Spring is finally here. This sketch made just yesterday in a bright and glorious sun is of a bridge with its destination obscured.
Illustration: Watercolor by Black Elephant Blog author
In other developments, experimenting now with Strathmore Aquarius II paper, converted into an accordian sketchbook, per instructions generously provided by urban sketcher Marc Taro Holmes on his blog, Citizen Sketcher; the sketchbook is for an upcoming trip out West later this week and will be featured here in the future.
There’s one more week left before the inspiring “Power and Pathos: Bronze Sculptures of the Hellenistic World” closes at the National Gallery in Washington, D.C. Seeing these exquisitely detailed figures from two millennia ago, and knowing that quite a few of them were discovered only recently, in some cases at the bottom of the Mediterranean, leaves one simply amazed. As a whole, the exhibit is stunning; the alcove with the bronze statue of Artemis and the stag is so beautifully designed that it almost demanded to be seen, again and again, on multiple visits.
Illustration: Pencil sketch of bronze medallion with the bust of Athena (c. 150 B.C)–the ancient Greek goddess of wisdom–by Black Elephant Blog author
According to the exhibit catalogue, between the late seventh and second centuries B.C., Greek sculpture of the time was most distinctive for “its obsession with ever greater naturalism.” Thirty-four museums in thirteen countries on four continents contributed the sculptures that made this exhibit possible, an example of extraordinary international cooperation involving priceless treasures.
According to the organizers, this exhibition is unprecedented in its scope and ambition. Although marble sculpture was more common in Hellenistic times, bronze sculptures, such as those in this exhibition, were more “highly prized in antiquity.” Unfortunately, since bronze was “easily melted down for recycling,” many of the sculptures were melted down and repurposed over the years. Thus, “thousands of spectacular [bronze] sculptures produced throughout the Hellenistic world have disappeared from the archaeological record” and the finest of those that have survived are in this exhibition, say the organizers. It’s an unforgettable experience for those who have a chance to see it.
An out-of-print book, called Watercolor Solutions, by Charles Reid, is proving helpful in slowing down enough to grasp some important concepts related to watercolor painting! The book can be borrowed at a local library or you can pay about $50 for a used copy. Reid is a highly respected watercolor artist and teacher who has an excellent way of explaining things; there are a couple of his lessons on YouTube.
In his book, he explains things as basic as how to hold, wet, and shake water off a brush. In addition, he explains how to mix colors on the palette and directly on the paper. There are exercises in drawing profiles, portraits, and figures. Reid recommends abandoning sketching, and to instead do contour drawings by keeping your pencil on the paper and doing one line (outline), stopping only to check on your location, but not lifting your pencil from the paper.
Here is one practice watercolor I did based on his instructions:
Illustration: Watercolor and pencil sketch on Arches 140 1b CP paper by Black Elephant Blog author
and another based on Reid’s explanation on “Adjusting Values from Photos”. This latter section inspired me to try my hand at practicing the values by trying to copy Reid’s own method of painting of John Singer Sargent at work painting. What is fascinating in this section is his description of how to “lose edges.” It means focusing exclusively on shadow shapes and not, for instance, where the edges of an umbrella or neckline or coat are; the purples below thus sort of run together, per Reid’s own painting example on p. 85 of the hardcopy of his book.
Illustration: Copy after “John Singer Sargent” by Charles Reid in watercolor and white gouache with pencil underdrawing on Arches 140 lb CP paper by Black Elephant Blog author
From this experience so far, it is clear that there are good habits to work on developing, related to how much water is on the brush and how the colors are mixed and used. Aside from all the lessons in the book, another challenge is not to ruin a library book with paint splatters. Reid’s explanations are so helpful; it’s clear that complementing class instruction with a book like this is the way to go, at least for me (and maybe for some others!)
At last, we are underway with our classes at the university, with the onset of a “Spring” semester which, delayed by some wintry weather, has so far not felt very spring-like. With inclement weather, though, it’s been easier to get some work done on projects related to what we are covering in class, and a chance to compose a blog post on some of this. Hence, this post is a bit less about sketching present every-day scenes and more about designing alternative frameworks for the future. (The eventual goal is to combine both in an accessible format for different audiences.)
Illustration: Watercolor and pen and ink study for “Waiting for Spring” by Black Elephant Blog author
We have moved rapidly through diverse science and security-related issues and zoomed across the land masses of the planet to understand different climatic zones, the extent of challenges to arable land, and how incidents or policy changes at a local or national level–even on the other side of the world– can have global impacts. Not yet a month into the semester, therefore, we are confronting the realization that past experience will no longer be a reliable guide to managing many looming challenges, including the necessary transition to no-carbon and low-cost sources of energy. Innovation thus is inescapably urgent.
None other than Bill Gates, who describes himself as an “impatient optimist,” admits that “time is not on our side” when it comes to globally applicable means of reducing carbon emissions to zero. He puts his hopes on a “miracle” in energy R& D even as it’s plain to see investment in energy research by developed nations remains far below that in other areas. (Gates says that the scale of innovation needed requires government investment as it involves risks that the private sector is poorly equipped to assume.) Conventional approaches to problem-solving in this area simply will not work.
Illustration: OECD chart
Already in our class there is focus on the social, institutional, and cross-boundary aspects, as well as cognitive and psychological facets, of the problem. (It seems that, even this early in the semester, we are beginning to hear more readily the overly specialized or “silo’ed” limitations in the thinking on offer at some conference panels around town.) What does it take to harness innovative ingenuity on a global scale? What can we learn from those who have studied processes of innovation and creativity? Where do these subjects enter most conversations and efforts about transitioning rapidly to a low-carbon, or no-carbon, energy system? While proposals on the global “table”, as it were, have merit, how to ensure that the collective “we” is not “betting the farm” on a strategy that will not pay-off? Whose responsibility is it to even consider these things? (Such are the issues we are dealing with in the classroom.)
Innovative approaches to solving complex problems, including developing the “energy miracle” Bill Gates has called for, require more than technological investment and novel financial arrangements. They require organizations to invest in developing and sustaining creativity and strategic thinking in the workplace. But who knows how to do this? And have we any idea on how to be creatively collaborative across myriad institutions? It seems that much of the material published on these topics is aimed at managers or, less often, educators. But that may be too late for most people. The concepts involved must be introduced earlier in people’s careers so they have time to evaluate and internalize them with their peers. Thus such material is worked into our course at the graduate school level where students typically already have a few years of professional work experience. Understanding the obstacles to innovation–and its “fuel,” creativity–is fundamental to making progress on the complex problems, (especially “super-wicked” problems s0-called because they require the engagement of society as a whole), of today.
In many workplaces, however, the efforts of talented people are typically stifled in “myriad unseen ways,” according to Ed Catmull, President of Pixar Animation and Disney Animation in his book, Creativity, Inc., Overcoming the Unseen Forces That Stand in the Way of True Inspiration, (Random House, 2014). Despite constant emphasis (belatedly in many cases) these days on the need for innovation (and creativity, and disruptive breakthroughs), rarely is any thought given to how such creative work is nurtured, evaluated and sustained…to say the least. So it seems timely to take a few notes from the book, Creativity, Inc., to see how these issues are dealt with in an industry (producer of the films, “Toy Story,” “Up,” and “Ratatouille,” among others) that most everyone assumes exemplifies the best of creative workplaces.
Catmull credits his experience as a graduate student at the University of Utah, where he received his Ph.D in 1974, with introducing him to the importance of leaders who understand how “to create a fertile laboratory.” Much of the research in the university’s computer science department was funded by the Advanced Research Projects Agency (ARPA) of the Department of Defense (now known as DARPA). The university laboratory leaders understood “they had to assemble different kinds of thinkers and then encourage their autonomy.” Catmull writes that the most valuable thing he gained from the university “was the model my teachers provided for how to lead and inspire other creative thinkers.” One of the lessons from ARPA that stayed with Catmull was: “When faced with a challenge, get smarter.” He thus knew that, in order to “attract the sharpest minds,” he needed to put his own insecurities away. When starting out as the lab director at the New York Institute of Technology while still in his 20s, therefore, one of his first hires was someone who seemed to Catmull more qualified to lead the lab than he was.
Catmull’s book is the story of his journey in learning to sustain a creative work environment. Nearly every page contains a memorable lesson applicable in other fields, such as: “Always take a chance on better, even if it seems threatening.” The challenge for him and his colleagues in the mid-1970s was to solve technical problems involved in applying computer animation to the film industry. There were a few companies working on these problems and most, Catmull writes, “embraced a culture of strictly enforced, even CIA-like, secrecy.” By contrast, Catmull and his colleagues decided to share their work with the outside world instead; his view was that “we were all so far from achieving our goal that to hoard ideas only impeded our ability to get to the finish line. [emphasis added]” (Might this view be relevant as well to the energy challenge mentioned at the start of this post?) Catmull notes that the “benefit of this transparency was not immediately felt” but that the “relations and connections we formed, over time, proved far more valuable than we could have imagined, fueling our technical innovation and our understanding of creativity in general.”
As his project teams grew, Catmull had to move his organization from a flat team-like structure to more of a hierarchical approach. He realized that his team at the New York Institute of Technology actually functioned more “like a collection of grad students–independent thinkers with individual projects–rather than a team with a common goal.” Catmull describes the influence of “Starwars” and George Lucas on the field of computer animation, and traces the trajectory of his own career, and long partnership with Steve Jobs, through the lessons he learned along the way.
To give some sense of these lessons and their broad applicability, here are a few from the book:
Illustration: Watercolor wash and pen-and-ink sketch by Black Elephant Blog author
Dealing with “The Hidden” Catmull’s book is exceptional for its sophisticated treatment of many tough management issues that arise in virtually any field, including learning to see “hidden” issues in the corporation and, just as important, realizing that just because you don’t see them doesn’t mean they do not exist. He says that one of his core management beliefs is “If you don’t try to cover what is unseen and understand its nature, you will be ill-prepared to lead.” He also emphasizes that our ignorance about randomness affects our ability to face the unknown. Catmull writes, for instance:
“We are quite adept at working with repeatable events and at understanding bell-shaped variance…[But] how can we think clearly about unexpected events that are lurking out there that don’t fit any of our existing models? Catmull notes that there is a “human tendency to treat big events fundamentally different from smaller ones.” This sets us up for failure, he explains, because we fail to realize that some of the small problems have long-term consequences and are, therefore, “big problems in the making.”
In another excellent section, “Learning to See,” Catmull describes how he hired an art teacher to come in to the organization to teach everyone “how to heighten our powers of observation.” People who draw better than the rest of us, he says, “are setting aside their preconceptions” and everyone can learn to do that. His point is that there are ways of learning to overcome biases while considering a problem.
In Sum: It is easy to forget that the lessons in this book are derived from managing computer graphics and animation laboratories and not from the daily occurrences in organizations closer to one’s own experience. It is thus relevant for people trying to move their organizations into a mode that makes the most of the talent within, and without (!)–or outside–, them. Understanding the forces that block our inspiration and effective creative collaboration both inside and beyond our organizations today is key to moving forward on the many formidable challenges (some of them metaphorical“black elephants” ) facing the globe. (This is why, earlier on this blog–such as here and here and here— there has been a focus on the work of various experts regarding the barriers we face to even thinking effectively about these problems.) Facing as many unconventional and complex challenges as we do today, it’s safe to say there are not enough books like this one and, for many people, not enough time to read and absorb them. Some of the needed changes might not be “news-worthy” but still hugely impactful: Learning to draw, counterintuitively, may be part of the solution at the societal level, to inculcate ways, per Catmull, to overcome our ingrained biases and to sidestep cross-cultural barriers.
Things have been quiet(er) on this blog as the new school semester gets underway, and snow and icy conditions have made our class schedule slip and slide a bit. But in that class, despite a delayed start, we are putting our best foot forward on some challenging subjects.
Illustration: Watercolor and bistre ink wash, “View from a Schoolhouse Window” by Black Elephant Blog author
In addition, “feeding the beast” (more on that soon) tends to get in the way of efforts to sustain a creative environment (the promised look at obstacles to creativity is therefore still pending). On top of this, learning how to do portraits in watercolor (a very high bar to cross) is taking up considerable time and effort these days; getting those skin tones just right, and learning what to leave in and what to leave out is super difficult. But our teacher is inspiring, to say the least, and some colleagues in class are taking this course for the third time! I myself am in it for the second time. It makes sense, though, that capturing the reality of the human spirit with a few dabs of cadmium red and yellow (with some yellow ochre for good measure) and raw sienna, and perhaps some cerulean blue for the shadows, would not (and should not) be easy.
When Bill Gates says, as he did recently, that we must “drive innovation at an unnaturally high pace” to transition to a globally-applicable non-carbon source of energy in time (to save the planet), it raises the question (or ought to) of what’s involved in doing that? If creativity is the “fuel” of innovation, how does one go about gaining and sustaining that fuel source? Do we wait, in a comfortable sunny spot, for inspiration to hit us?
Illustration: Watercolor, gouache, graphite and bistre ink by Black Elephant Blog author
Sometimes we think of creativity as something that occurs to us when we are relaxed, doing something routine like driving through a toll booth or even–or most likely–when we are doing nothing at all… Is that what we must accelerate? Or are there more reliable means of spurring and sustaining innovation (and creativity) ? There have been a number of books on this subject, including on the need for “entrepreneurial states,” but in fact there’s been little noticeable tie-in of this material to the renewable energy challenge Gates and others are highlighting.
With the onset of a new university semester (as soon as suitable paths to class are plowed through the snow) looking at some of these issues, and investigating what it means to be innovative, or creative, in the workplace, this blog soon will turn to the experience of Pixar Studios as related by its co-founder, Ed Catmull, in Creativity, Inc.: Overcoming the Unseen Forces That Stand in the Way of True Inspiration, (New York, Random House, 2014). Some of what he has to say may surprise you but all of it is relevant to all of us when tied to prospecting for pathways to a sustainable energy future. How to sustain a creative work environment is the challenge, and the theme, of this book–to be highlighted here soon. Given that the author is from Pixar Studios, it comes as no surprise, but still is surprisingly fascinating, to see that he has a lot to say about art, sketching, paying attention, and hand-drawn approaches to animation. Coming up next…
A recent two-day artists’ workshop in “wax-resist techniques” provided loads of food for thought not just about this artistic process but also about the importance of thinking ahead to what you are trying to achieve…and how to get there.
Illustration: Tulum, Yucatan Mayan structure in ink wash (Higgins waterproof black India ink) with wax marks, charcoal, Conte crayon, and Char-koal pastels by Black Elephant Blog author
It is normal to fall back too readily on what we think we know and on what we expect to see, and this blocks our ability to learn new things and see things in new ways– which is so fundamental to art, innovation, business success, and progress. As Ed Catmull, the author of Creativity, Inc. (Random House, New York, 2014) writes, “the best managers make room for what they do not know… not just because humility is a virtue but because until we adopt that mindset, the most striking breakthroughs cannot occur.”
As a newcomer to the wax resist technique, however, I found myself falling back onto old habits and ways of thinking. Without a doubt, these were blocking my ability to internalize and apply these new approaches. The wax resist approach, like any other truly artistic approach, benefits from taking a great deal of time studying the subject first.
“This process insists that you have a goal or else you get into trouble,” warned the instructor. “The wax is not forgiving,” he said. “Everything you don’t plan” comes back to bite you.
The process involves repeated washes, first with plain water, and then ink washes, and a lot of intervals of drying the paper.
Illustration: Drying the paper after one of the ink washes (after an initial waxing of the image)
This activity needs a large workspace that is forgiving of water drips and ink splashes! The stipulated paper dimensions in this workshop were large too, so as to better capture details with the wax. This paper takes a beating, with multiple washes, and being hung to dry on a line after each wash (often after some time on the floor so that still wet ink wouldn’t run down the page.)
What is difficult to realize ahead of time is the repeated and gradual nature of the process of building up the darks and the clever use (not over-use as in the example here) of the wax. This is not about painting or “rendering”, but it takes a while for the novice wax resist-user to grasp this.
Illustration: Photo of some of the materials used in the ink wash and wax resist project
Now that class is out, there’s so much to practice. Fortunately, the necessary supplies are readily available–such as Gulf Wax which can generally be found in a grocery store. It’s the thought process that is more difficult to acquire. It takes time and guidance, persistence, and, for the best results as demonstrated by our instructor, clearly some enormous talent that few of us can assume.
This workshop was an extraordinary learning experience relevant to much more than art. It underscored the huge gaps in our thinking processes when it comes to learning how to re-perceive what is right in front of us. Such ability to reframe the obvious in new lights (and darks) is key to achieving anything artistic, let alone the sort of breakthrough innovations we increasingly acknowledge are needed for (nothing less than) the future of the planet. Strategic and design thinking come together in use of wax resist in this process, as well probably in other applications, such as watercolor painting.
Illutration: Watercolor and pen and ink sketch of Mayan structure at Tulum in Quintanaa Roo, Yucatan by Black Elephant Blog author
For goals of still larger scale, such as enabling a global transition to a low-carbon economy, how to create environments that can accelerate our ability to grasp these ways of thinking will be the subject of future posts. The experienced artist who also is an effective teacher has a crucial role to play in the transition to the needed new thinking.
If you know about Rembrandt, you probably know about bistre ink. This ink was the go-to ink of the masters so when my bottle of it arrived in the mail all the way from Germany the other day–the same day I looked again at the John Singer Sargent oil paintings on display at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.–of course I had to test it out almost immediately. (The figure in my sketch, which I did first in pencil at the museum, is looking at the viewer–which is NOT what she is doing in the John Singer Sargent painting–there, she is looking away, as if ill or disconsolate.)
The ink is delightful, as I discovered when combining a wash with using a pen and nib to try to recreate–inevitably way imperfectly but what is life without a challenge!–the feeling the Sargent created in his oil painting of “Repose”–reportedly done at a time when he viewed portraiture as a “pimp’s profession”–so this was his rebellion against formal portraiture.
Anyway, imagine traveling without all the acoutrement of a watercolor kit–just a bottle of this ink. The possibilities are really amazing!
Illustration: Bistre ink wash and pen (Rohrer & Klingner “Rohrers Ausziehtusche Bister”) sketch of John Singer Sargent’s oil painting known as “Repose” in the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. by Black Elephant Blog author
A visit to a makerspace this weekend provided powerful reminders of what human ingenuity, collaboration, appropriate workspaces, and tools–as well as simply just playing around–can produce in the way of innovation and goodness for the world. In this space, people were playing games, making leather boots (!), working on a global challenge competition to design a drone that can deliver relief supplies to remote areas cut off by natural disasters, and painting (and sketching) :-).
Makerspaces are places where people’s ideas can come alive, and where the tools and other equipment are readily available–and similarly inventive people (and sometimes organizations) provide ready support.
Illustration: Watercolor and Platinum Carbon pen and ink by Black Elephant Blog author
They are part of the natural movement of the “democratization” of know-how which–of course, as the sad events in the global space this weekend tragically reminded us–can be harnessed for good or ill. Hopefully makerspaces such as this can produce more inventors of better futures than the one that threatened the world in Paris, and devastated so many lives, this past weekend.
Illustration: Watercolor and Platinum Carbon pen and ink by Black Elephant Blog author
It’s been said that we’re living in a “shapeless” world. What is meant by this is that our understandings about the geopolitical shape of our world has become fuzzy, hazy, or contradictory. People, whether formally recognized as decision-makers or not, must make decisions. Some are becoming aware of having to work harder to make make sense of things. They might wonder if they have the necessary tools to do so. Often, however, people (especially experts) would not want to admit such uncertainty.
Illustration: Watercolor and Platinum Carbon pen and ink by Black Elephant Blog author on Arches 140 lb. Cold Press paper (October 2015)
There is a deeply-held belief in modern life that knowing things and eliminating uncertainty gives us more power and security, and that anyone who exhibits uncertainty and/or reflectiveness is therefore weak and indecisive. (This is related, as well, to being perceived as “doer”–a “climber”, a “mover” and a “shaker.”) Deeply ingrained concepts of success are tied to our perceptions of others as confident, bold, and expert. Certainly, we know, the stock market does not like uncertainty, and that’s because it’s made up of people having to make decisions. People do not like uncertainty and, for some potential setbacks, go so far as to buy insurance to protect themselves so as to better manage risk.
Up to now at least, accumulating facts, expertise, and scientific knowledge–and mastering the material world–seemed to suffice for decision-makers. So, what’s changed today? Cannot the facts of any matter provide us the answers we need to steer a safe course through choppy waters?
Of course, it is debatable what shape the world was in when it had more shape in our minds: the “Cold War” comes to mind. It gave shape to things, but perhaps not a shape most of us, at least those with any appreciation of history, would care to repeat. There also was the shape of the 1990s when it seemed to many that technological advances and globalization would inevitably lift all boats. The Financial Crash of 2008 upended many experts’ basic beliefs about the essential shape of the world, and many experts today acknowledge that nothing yet has taken the place of the old certainties now pretty much ripped to shreds.
Into this incoherence comes a new book that may help us to self-diagnose, at least. Our yearning for “shape” is the focus of this book by Jamie Holmes, a “Future Tense Fellow”, at the New America Foundation, Nonsense: The Power of Not Knowing, (Crown Publishers, New York, 2015). Drawing from many interviews and lively case studies, Holmes looks at how we make sense of the world. He studies the neurological wiring that makes us calm or agitated in varying states of certainty or uncertainty. He finds that uncertainty is an “emotional amplifier”: “it makes anxiety more agonizing, and pleasure especially enjoyable.” Holmes examines how the world of medicine has changed in a data-abundant world, for instance. And he delves deeply into how our sense-making minds naturally work to solve the puzzles of every day existence. So, what has changed that makes the world seem shapeless, at least to some, today?
The paradox of modern existence, according to Holmes, is that “technological acceleration–in transportation, communication, and production–should provide more free time” but, in fact, most of us feel “continually squeezed” by overwhelming options and limited time to assimilate and evaluate information,” he writes.
Indeed, abundant information has created more uncertainty! So much information “makes even the simplest decisions–where to eat, which health plan to sign up for, which coffee maker to buy–more fraught.”
Avoiding this reality or denying it would be of little use, Holmes writes. “Managing uncertainty is fast becoming an essential skill.” In his prologue, he cites economist Noreen Hertz’s argument that “one of today’s fundamental challenges is “disorder–a combination of the breakdown of old, established orders and the extremely unpredictable nature of our age.””
In his book, Holmes demonstrates that “being able to handle ambiguity and uncertainty isn’t a function of intelligence.” (Interesting too that being a “superforecaster” also is not a function of intelligence (see previous post). But it is an emotional challenge. This is because individuals have varying needs for “closure,” a concept developed by psychologist, Arie Kruglanski, Holmes writes. People who understand this concept, even merely intuitively, actually can manipulate others’ discomfort with ambiguity. “When our need for closure is high, we tend to revert to stereotypes, jump to conclusions, and deny contradictions.” This is the stuff of radical and dangerous shifts in popular attitudes over the course of history; it merits our deeper understanding.
What’s important in this work is Holmes’ seemingly original and certainly unusually accessible treatment of the importance of contextual circumstances in changing individuals’ need for closure. This trait is not as hard-wired as many of us might assume.
Learning how to deal with what we don’t understand is a critical skill becoming more necessary for all of us in this “shapeless” and still fairly new century, according to this author. It turns out that uncertainty and contradictions provide the environment for people to unleash their creativity. Making sense of a shapeless world requires imagination and other cognitive skills which most people have but may not have had occasion to exercise as much as they would have liked.
Speaking of which: due to an abundance of choices, and must-do’s, today, this subject will be continued at a later date here on this blog, of that I am fairly certain. Understanding what our options are for making sense of complexity is a subject that deserves our undivided attention. Having read this book, I am confident that it does too. So, to be continued…
It’s the beginning in these parts of the world of what some speakers on conference panels this month have been calling the “silly season,” meaning that their already low expectations are even lower for certain things they’d like to see happen.
Illustration: Sharpie pen on Stone journal paper by Black Elephant Blog author
That remains to be seen; sometimes it is what we are most sure about that ends up surprising us the most (almost by definition).
But it’s also almost the end of the month-long “Inktober” sketch-off, featuring thousands of pen-and-ink drawings posted on-line. One more day to go. Well, here in “Black Elephant” world the focus has tended to be on the more colorful scenes of October, but when unavoidably inside–away from the dazzling fall scenes–it’s been fun to capture some conference highlights with a Sharpie fine point pen.
And, per usual, this month the conference scene has been cranking up: as the temperatures drop outside, the temperatures seem to rise inside.
It will come as no surprise to many that people seated at long tables can sometimes be still enough for a sketcher to 
get a half-way reasonable “live” sketch going.
To add to all the benefits: Apparently, it’s been scientifically proven that sketching while listening/viewing actually improves your comprehension abilities!
Illustration: Sharpie pen on Stone Journal paper by Black Elephant Blog author
So here are a few of the Inktober conference sketches posted on this Blog before October, and Inktober, draw to a close. Next, this blog turns its attention to an intriguing new book called “Nonsense: The Power of Not Knowing“. This book examines how varied people’s abilities are to deal with uncertainty, ambiguity, and dissonant information.
Illustration: Sharpie pen on Stone Journal paper
We are doing some “plein air” painting this weekend, with mostly painters in oil (Oil Painters) working alongside me.
The light is gorgeous in the woods these days.
Illustration: Watercolor and pen and ink by Black Elephant Blog author
Some good rules of thumb, such as “less is more,” end up broken as golden reeds with shiny tufts vie for attention in shafts of sunlight in the tree cover. It is nature’s own stained glass window!
Illustration: Watercolor and pen and ink by Black Elephant Blog author
Illustration: Watercolor and ink by Black Elephant Blog author
Today begins a new month, a new fiscal year even, and fall is in the air. Since every now and then, someone asks what I am reading, I have turned my attention to the question myself. Some books on innovation have been covered earlier on this blog, particularly here. But, why begin with innovation if we are not sure where, when or why, it matters? Context can be helpful.
Upcoming on this blog, therefore, will be a few brief overviews of some important, and possibly even provocative, books which provide fresh optics on historical contexts, and which were published in the last year. Some of these books review how we got to now and make suggestions for how to move forward.
These include:
The Shape of the New: Four Ideas and How They Made the Modern World, by Scott L. Montgomery and Daniel Chirot.
Fields of Blood: Religion and the History of Violence, by Karen Armstrong, an expert on comparative religion.
This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate, by Naomi Klein, who may be familiar to some for her investigation into “disaster capitalism.” This book is so sweeping “and of such consequence,” in the view of The New York Times, that it is “almost unreviewable.”
But, to lighten the load, some fun reading is also in order. I recommend:
Illustration: Painting of Madame Marthe de Florian by Giovanni Boldini (1888) – Wikipedia
A Paris Apartment, by Michelle Gable, a book which also came out last year. It is based on the true story of an apartment the contents of which came to light in 2010, 70 years after its tenant had hurriedly left Paris.
Illustration: Self-portrait of Giovanni Boldini (1892), from Wikipedia
In the apartment among antiques and other valuables, which had been untouched or unseen by anyone in all this time, was an original painting of a beautiful lady. Martha de Florian, by Giovanni Boldini. Boldini was a contemporary of Edgar Degas, whose life and works was discussed earlier on this blog, in mid- and late-19th century Parisian artistic circles.
The painting depicts Madame Marthe de Florian whose diaries also were in the apartment when it was opened in 2010.
The novel, A Paris Apartment, recreates this true story in a fictional modern context. The author has a fresh writing style which makes the most of her talents for creating realistic dialogue and alternating between periods of time separated by more than a century. Boldini himself–not to mention Madame de Florian–come alive here in a story that includes other better known figures of their time. All this…a true story…and a fictional story…because of one real-life dusty old apartment filled with stuff no one wanted for nearly a century.
Last week, an unusually good workshop on “Climate, Defense, and Security” occurred in downtown Ottawa sponsored by the Canadian Defense Association. The purpose of the workshop was to assess the security risks or threats of climate change impacts. The speakers and the audience deftly covered a wide range of relevant, forward-looking themes in the half-day allotted to the workshop.
Illustration: Watercolor and pen and ink sketch of the War of 1812 Monument at sunset in downtown Ottawa by Black Elephant Blog author
I was one of several invitees to attend. The audience was composed of former Canadian diplomats and military officials, academics, members of the media and a few representatives from European embassies, notably UK, Germany and France. The format featured a panel of three speakers, followed by audience Q&A with the panel, and a luncheon at the French Embassy. (The morning session was introduced as “on-the-record.”)
Illustration: Photo of notes pages in a stone journal
I jotted down key points I heard in a new “stone paper” journal I’d picked up out of curiosity at the gift shop in the National Gallery of Canada. (Stone paper, as the name suggests, involves no trees and is made of “crushed stone.” It has a different texture and is heavier, of course, than a paper journal. Is it, therefore, more environmentally friendly? I don’t know enough about it to say for sure, but it is fun to try out.)
These key points were:
Ottawa itself looked its best in the bright September sunlight, a wonderful gift for those with some time to walk around. I wondered if the workshop signaled some sort of shift in the climate around the issue of climate change.
Illustration: Sketch in watercolor, pen and ink, and gouache depicting fountain in Confederation Park in downtown Ottawa by Black Elephant Blog author
The last time I was in Ottawa in September was on 9-11-2001 when the geostrategic climate suddenly changed dramatically, in ways we are still living with today. On the visit this week, the weather was seemingly similar to the day I recall with such heaviness 14 years ago: brilliant blue skies and buildings gleaming in the sunshine.
It was a real pleasure to be able at last to stroll around the city and take in the many gorgeous sights, from the locks along the canal (of both varieties: canal locks and locks locked to the railings of a pedestrian bridge over the Rideau Canal) to sculptures, fountains, the Byward Market, and an independent bookstore (they still exist!) on Eglin Street.
Illustration: Photo of locks on pedestrian bridge over Rideau Canal in downtown Ottawa
Some of the sculptures brought me to a standstill, including the one of Canadian jazz legend Oscar Peterson on a corner next to the National Arts Center, where the sound of his piano playing (coming from speakers around the sculpture) soothes your nerves while you’re waiting to cross the street.
Illustration: Photo of sculpture of legendary jazz musician, Oscar Peterson, in downtown Ottawa
Despite all the sights competing for my attention, I managed to get a few sketches started while exploring, adding color later.
It remains to do be seen what will be done about the climate challenges identified at the workshop, and by whom. Given the shortcomings of traditional approaches highlighted in the workshop, some innovations in governance, science, and diplomacy seem necessary to cope with the novelties involved in understanding the risks and threats related to climate change impacts.
On a hot day in Washington, D.C., a bunch of us went underground–to sketch! Our destination was (and is) not open to the public yet, and–having been there–it’s clear that it’s not a public venue for good reasons. The “Dupont Underground” is a large former trolley station (opened in 1949) and food court immediately underneath Dupont Circle. There are plans underway for its restoration, but it’s going to take some time, clearly. Other than serving as a bomb shelter (if needed), this space hasn’t been in use now for decades. The new management has bold ideas for it, basically illustrating the concept of the “adjacent possible” described earlier on this blog (a concept attributed to innovation author and expert, Stephen Johnson, in his book, Where Good Ideas Come From).
Illustration: Photo of image on a wall in the Dupont Underground
It’s a bit unnerving to go into such a dark, dank space, and bold to even think about sketching it, probably. The air was humid and a bit gritty. Tunnels stretched out in multiple directions, pitch black. Most of us stayed in the dimly lighted areas. A few who were not intent on sketching and who were equipped with flashlights ventured into the gloom. The rest of us tended to mass together towards the end of one tunnel: this was not a place you really wanted to be alone in! There we worked in nearly total silence; the loudest noise was the sound of sketchers’ pencils shading in areas of sketches.
Illustration: Pencil sketch of the Dupont Underground by Black Elephant Blog author
Afterwards, it was a relief to get back above the surface again, into the strong, swelteringly hot sunlight of a Washington, D.C. afternoon in August! Some of us will wait until the underground is spruced up a bit more before venturing back to see it again!
Illustration: Sketchers underground in Washington, D.C.
This sketch is an impression of a suburban lakeside scene of streetlamp lighting along a plaza in the distance reflecting on the darkening surface of the water. (It is probably not a good sign when you have to explain what a picture shows!) It is done on Alpha series Stillman & Birn paper, which is meant for pen and ink sketches and, at most, watercolor washes. Despite some overworking here, the paper did not buckle. While clearly not as strong or absorbent as the way-more popular (especially for professional watercolorists) Arches paper, this paper can be appealing simply because it isn’t as absorbent. In fact, the interaction of this paper with watercolor is pretty nice, which is certainly a reason it has found such favor with urban sketchers. A helpful review of this paper can be found here.
Illustration: Watercolor, gouache and white “Gelly Roll” pen
In an open life studio, where all types of artists gather to practice drawing or painting from a professional model’s pose, it is striking how differently the participants depict the model in their artwork. No “analytical objectivity” is possible here; everyone sees the same model quite differently. It is impossible for any two people’s drawing to be alike, or even for the same person to repeat exactly the same drawing a second time.
Illustration: Watercolor and pen and ink by Black Elephant Blog author
In what ways might this process of deciding what to draw, and how, be related to “design thinking”? From considering the future of countries and even economics, there seems to be more attention being paid to the need for thinking differently, if not even ahead. Some experts on international affairs seem to be exercising design thinking, for instance, when they posit alternative futures for a country like the United States, as in the new book by Ian Bremmer, Superpower: Three Choices for America’s Role in the World (2015). What is different about the thinking processes that enable us to consider alternative futures or to plan for the consequences of unpredictable developments?
Certainly art students are encouraged to have a plan and to think ahead to where their brush is going, where the light is coming from, what kind of paper they have, and to pay attention to the shadows, “cools” and “warm” values. Splashing colors on a page may work for some but for most of us learning how to think about techniques, and gaining confidence through practice, are necessary. It’s a sort of strategic thought process. It is difficult to get the hang of it at first. Being comfortable with taking risks is part of the process, clearly: an ink blot here or a dribble of water there might damage what seemed before to be coming along just fine. Alternatively, that ink blot or water stain might make this painting really special!
In art as in life, the decisions that must be made seem endless, and each one bears heavily on the final result. But the artist gets to make his or her own decisions usually, and must live with the results.
In a more populated context with many people potentially affected by the outcome of decisions, what is the process of consultation and deliberation that must be followed? How to deal with the inevitable inkblots, and their unintended consequences? Is the factory-model of organization helpful or hurtful in such times; what are the alternatives? With highly integrated challenges mounting (along with the rise of intricately networked systems riding on technologies few people really understand), what insights could we be drawing now to build upon in the future? Who will create these insights, and how? How will we know where the brush is going, and to what end? Who will be wielding the brush in an interconnected age such as ours? … Per request a future post or two will list some reading possibilities.
This (most likely) is the last of the watercolor sketches from recent travels in Germany. The lemon tree on the terrace of a cafe along the River Oos in Baden Baden made this a natural spot to sketch, as did the sight of two women deep in conversation on the bridge. This is the Reinhard Fieser Brücke, named after a former mayor of the city.
Illustration: Watercolor, ink wash, metallic gold Faber Castell pen by Black Elephant Blog author
The bridge connects the area of the Kurgarten, or “spa garden” to the fashionable and beautiful cobblestoned streets lined with shops in the old part of the city–bridging old and old, as well as old and new. The same trip took us to explore a rose garden on the nearby hillside, but it was temporarily closed to the public due to an annual rose-judging competition underway. So we’ll have to go back! Next up: more on bridging old and new through frame innovation.
According to the author, Kees Dorst, of Frame Innovation: Create New Thinking By Design, (The MIT Press, 2015), we are “collectively being tripped up by today’s problems.” Tackling emerging complex, dynamic and networked problems with old approaches makes no sense, he writes; “the trusted routines just don’t work anymore.” They require a “radically different response.” But what do those responses look like, and how do organizations large and small mobilize them?
Sketch by Black Elephant Blog author
Dorst argues that the interest in “design thinking” up to now has often led to ineffective responses. He says that this is because, up to now, we have tended to turn to the “designers” to generate solutions, “rather than [recognize and enlist]…the key ability of expert designers to create new approaches to problem situations,” or “framing.”
The creation of new “frames” to approach problem situations is the key, and a special element of designers’ problem-solving practices, writes Dorst (citing Whitbeck 1998). Dorst’s book introduces fresh practices based on lessons learned so far on how to link sound design approaches to real-world problems in different domains. From designing high-speed rail links to dealing with challenges involved in social housing and reducing crime rates, he shows how designers are confronting the complexity of a situation head-on. From elegant 19th century-era hotels in places which tend to attract large numbers of people with 21st century tastes to large government institutions struggling to adapt to cross-sector challenges, devising cost-effective and future-sensitive ways to update our problem-solving approaches seems like a ‘no-brainer,’ doesn’t it? But it turns out that, while obviously necessary, it is far from easy, especially for those working in long-established organizations.
Illustration: Watercolor, pen, ink wash, Faber- Castell gold Pitt artist’s pen, and Gelly Roll white pen (view from a park in Baden-Baden, Germany) on Stillman & Birn paper Alpha-series by Black Elephant Blog author
In Dorst’s view, “we have an unprecedented need to extend our problem-solving repertoire so that it can address these issues. Future posts on this blog will look at some of these strategies, but–in the meantime–those who are interested in this subject will find Dorst’s book useful. (So, in a belated response to the reader who asked on this blog some weeks ago something like, “is this really anything new?”, it appears that Dorst’s answer would be: yes, we are dealing (or, failing to deal) with a new class of problems that are highly complex and cannot be solved by those working within a single sector.)
Coming up, a bit more on this, and some recommendations for related books and links.
Anyone who sketches or attempts to create anything new is attempting to create a new way of seeing something, even if just for themselves, in their own sketchbooks, or–as I did last night–on the back of an envelope. They are, to varying degrees, storytellers. Urban sketchers certainly are storytellers or, if you will, citizen reporters, and “plein aire” artists, drawing and coloring what they see! Those who tell stories about their sketches, their sculptures, their jewelry-making projects, their workshops, or other sorts of creative endeavor are providing narratives to put a frame around the effort. So sketching leads straight to frame innovation…which is getting serious attention in some business and academic circles.
Illustration: Watercolor, gouache, and ink by Black Elephant Blog author
It appears that artists have a lot to teach those of us who have depended primarily (so far…) on our analytic brains to carry us forward. And who, after all, isn’t an artist, given a chance? What happens when our analytic brains are simply not up to the challenges (some of which may be “black elephants”) ahead? A few posts back began to look at a book on this subject published by MIT Press recently.
This post thus will segue back into the discussion of frame innovation raised a few weeks ago here on this blog (and to which there may be a few more unanswered questions by now). One question so far raised, for instance, is whether the ideas behind “frame innovation” are, in fact, anything new? The next few posts will consider this and related issues.
An important book has accompanied the traveler/doodler author of this blog, making it possible, at least, to consider taking some notes on it. The book is called Frame Innovation: Create New Thinking By Design, by Kees Dorst (The MIT Press, 2015). Dorst is a Professor of Design Innovation at the University of Technology, Sydney, Australia and at Endhoven University of Technology in the Netherlands.
Sketchbook on-site illustrations: Pen and ink and watercolor by Black Elephant Blog author
As one reads the book, it is clear that the book’s author has been researching and developing case studies of the concept of design thinking–as applied to practical and often seemingly intractable social and urban problems–for many years. Although the text of this book is necessarily abstract in places–explaining, for instance, the difference between traditional analytic approaches of “deduction,” and “induction” and design thinking approaches of “abduction” and design abduction”–the author is quick to remedy this through his use of case studies and helpful word-graphics. ((To fast-forward a moment to the topic of a future blog post or two, the basic issue here is a very big and momentous idea. It is that our traditional methods of analytical reasoning, deduction and induction, “are not enough if we want to make something. If we want to create new things–or new circumstances–we need different approaches, for which even “normal abduction” (the reasoning pattern behind conventional problem-solving using tried and tested patterns of relationships) is insufficient.))
As explained in the series foreword by the editors of this new MIT Press series on design thinking and theory, design challenges today “require new frameworks of theory and research to address contemporary problem areas.” Often problem-solving for modern challenges requires “interdisciplinary teams with a transdisciplinary focus.” According to the editors, three contextual challenges define the nature of many design problems today. These issues affect many of the major design problems that face us in whatever field we’re working. They include:
–a complex environment in which many projects or products cross the boundaries of several organizations and stakeholder, producer, and user groups;
–projects or products that must meet the expectations of many organizations, stakeholders, producers, and users; and
–demands at every level of production, distribution, reception, and control.
Past environments “were simpler,” write the editors, and “made simpler demands.” To meet modern challenges, experience and development are still necessary, but “they are no longer sufficient.” “Most of today’s design challenges require analytic and synthetic planning skills that cannot be developed through practice alone,” they write. What is needed, they say, is “a qualitatively different form of professional practice that emerges in response to the demands of the information society and the knowledge economy to which it gives rise.”
Designers today confront complex social and political issues, the editors note, quoting the work of Donald Norman, (“Why Design Education Must Change,” 2010). What the authors are talking about is the fact that education today is not training professionals in ways to take integrated approaches to solve complex, inter-sector problems and imagining new futures. The book by Kees Dorst is the first in the series and, based on this writer’s close reading of it, it represents an excellent start to this ambitious (and profoundly needed) project.
Dorst argues that society today is being “tripped up” by the “emergence of a radically new species of problem: problems that are so open, complex, dynamic and networked that they seem impervious to solution.” He writes: “What all the news stories show us is that it makes no sense to keep trying to tackle these problems the way we used to. The trusted routines just don’t work anymore. These new types of problems require a radically different response.”
In the spirit of the focus of this blog–understanding “surprise” and the ways and whys for when we get “tripped up”–future posts will examine some of the important ideas in Dorst’s book.
Illustration: Sharpie pen with black ink by Black Elephant Blog author
To continue on the theme of basic concepts in art–as I am learning about in my basic drawing class–we come now to the concept of “negative space.” This doesn’t sound too good until you learn that the “negative” in the phrase simply refers to the space around and between the subjects of an image, as also explained here in Wikipedia. For those who have made it through graduate school and perhaps even an entire career without coming across this concept, this idea is quite exciting…and positive. (However, “positive space” is something different. The world of art has its own language, like every other endeavor, with words like “tooth,” “value,” and “wash” meaning quite different things to artists.)
Negative space sometimes means drawing with space to produce a silhouette of the subject. To produce this effect, we students used a homemade viewfinder (two L-shaped strips of cardboard taped together to form a small rectangle) and chose the composition we’d like to create with negative space. Note that objects overlapping each other in real life viewing simply become part of the same silhouette, as in the image above.
What is remarkable about this exercise in seeing and thinking is that it focuses on the context in order to define the subject. Just as in Drawing the Light, sharpening our attention to what is around and affecting the subject is important. Just one slip of the pen and we’ve completely changed the look of the subject, and possibly even ruined it altogether. Context really matters! 🙂
Illustration: Watercolor, gouache, ink, pencil, and white charcoal by Black Elephant Blog author, after the 1916 watercolor “Green Dancer” by Charles Demuth at the Philadelphia Museum of Art
Seasoned artists often give their images a multidimensional appearance and sometimes even an impression of movement by using light, shadows, and contours. Every teacher I’ve had so far in this new venture has said it is important to draw what surrounds the subject at the same time as we focus on drawing the subject. In other words it is a rookie mistake to focus single-mindedly on drawing a subject without considering the context. This simple advice is stunningly important with so many applications in life, and not just to art.
How can we understand the seemingly sudden emergence of new threats, challenges, or risks without widening the “viewfinder” to see what might be the context around them? Could one “slip” or failure in the “negative space” to anticipate a requirement have consequences for subjects, or “positive space,” in real life? Alternatively, is there more positive “negative space” shaping that can be done to influence the subject? The list of relevant applications for the negative space idea seems simply endless… What would happen if we played with the concept of “negative space,” and reframed the key issues of the day through our “viewfinders?” Without context, mistaken analysis, lost opportunities, and unforeseen surprises are inevitable. Particularly for those instances in real life where the consequences of failing to see repercussions could be worse than a ruined piece of paper, learning to think and see differently about “negative space” seems valuable.
Illustration: Pastel pencil and white charcoal by Black Elephant Blog author
During a recent art class, the teacher encouraged the students to “draw the light.” With black sheets of paper and a few xeroxed black and white images fished out of a pile to serve as models, we tried seeing the opposite of what we have been trained to expect. Instead of trying to represent the external reality of someone or something in terms of its casing or flesh and bones, we were to draw the light reflected from the surfaces. This was a fascinating exercise for those of us who hadn’t tried it before.
In drawing the light, at least for the first time, you can almost feel a different part of your brain working, and see an image emerge on paper that you know you didn’t draw in a standard way. Out of total blackness and emptiness emerges a figure, an expression, and new possibilities previously unimagined.
While many an effort doesn’t work out exactly as originally hoped, sometimes the outcome is surprising simply because we didn’t expect it. Drawing in search of such surprises seems to have parallels in methods for thinking strategically. If we applied similar counterintuitive reasoning strategies to some of the world’s greatest problems–drawing the light instead of (or at least in addition to) reacting always to the darkness we can see more readily–what could be the result? How much of what happens is driven by our expectations, as low as they might be for some issues?
Art can help reset the mind to realize that by learning to see differently we can open up different possibilities. Indeed, could persisting in traditional ways of seeing actually be dangerous in a world so obviously transformed and transforming by the hour, if not the minute? Might we more inevitably face more dangerous surprises by persisting in unproductive ways of thinking (or working, or organizing, measuring, or valuing)? Alternatively, by embracing more surprising thinking ourselves, might there be a way to gain strategic advantage? Isn’t this already recognized in business as identifying ‘niche’ opportunities or fostering innovation? In any case, by trying to draw an image again and again, it is possible to see how much went unseen before.
Image: Poster of child’s drawing displayed on the Paseo de la Reforma, Chapultepec Park, Mexico City as part of program focused on preserving the Lacandon Jungle
It seems that artists, including children, have much to teach us about different ways of seeing the modern world. Without fully exploring these “adjacent possible” spaces, to use the phrase coined by Stephen Johnson in Where Good Ideas Come From, how many opportunities do we miss? The recent lesson in drawing the light was a powerful reminder of how much innate capacity remains untapped in most traditional approaches to challenges!
Image: Wikimedia
During a recent visit to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, I had a chance to pick up the new book, Edgar Degas: Drawings and Pastels (Thames and London Ltd., 2014), by Christopher Lloyd, formerly surveyor of the Queen’s Pictures in the British Royal Collection and a widely published author on Western art. In an unusually crisp and absorbing writing style complemented with high-quality illustrations, this book traces the education and professional evolution of Edgar Degas, the artist, who lived from 1834 to 1917. It is the story of how a naturally gifted individual moved from the bounds of convention, and the conventional, to create original ways to view everyday realities. Degas (seen below) was a compulsive draughtsman born in Paris into a cultured (and multi-cultural family) with close family relations in both New Orleans and Italy.
Image: Wikipedia
The poet and critic, Paul Valery, who knew Degas in his final years, said of Degas’ approach to art that:
“The sheer labour of Drawing had become a passion and a discipline to him, the object of a mystique and an ethic all-sufficient in themselves, a supreme preoccupation which abolished all other matters, a source of endless problems in precision which released him from any other form of inquiry. He was and wishes to be a specialist, of a kind that can rise to a sort of universality. [emphasis added].”
Degas made a conscious attempt to select as role models artists from whom he thought he could learn the most.
He began his career as a painter of historical scenes then traditional in the art society of the 1860s, but it wasn’t long before his innately independent and original character took over and propelled him into uncharted domains. Early in his career, he invested years to master the conventional approaches to drawing and painting as represented by the dogma of the Ecole des Beaux-Arts at the time. Nonetheless, he demonstrated a lifelong loyalty to maintaining a distance and independence from the schools and art movements of his time. Lloyd notes that Degas’ determined individuality and preference for working within the privacy of his studio enabled him to “deploy his creative resources.” Lloyd continues: “It is as a result of his single-mindedness that he was able to experiment without fear of failure.”
The years of investment in first learning the technical skills as a draughtsman, focused primarily on copying old masters, were critical building-blocks to his later originality. The approach of the Academie Royale de Peinture et de Sculpture, founded in 1648, set the standards for art education in Degas’ early years. Its restrictive approach, according to Lloyd, “produced able draughtsmen, but did little to develop artistic imagination or encourage artists to engage with everyday life.” The emphasis in the training was on the development of a superior drawing technique, not on originality. “In short,” Lloyd writes,” to reproduce a work of art was considered to be more important than creating one.”
Degas from the start exhibited a flair for pushing the boundaries of convention. Even his copies of master paintings revealed him to be actively seeking out alternative interpretations. He himself said: “The masters must be copied again and again, and only after having given every indication of being a good copyist can you reasonably be given leave to draw a radish from nature.”
According to Lloyd, Degas exhibited early interest in original methods, introducing the “essence” manner of painting–involving oil paint diluted with turpentine–in the 1870s. He also had a habit, by the mid-1880s, of adding as many as five to seven strips of paper to his work mid-way through the process, something Lloyd notes that Rubens did in the 17th century “as though there was no physical limit to the boundaries of a composition.” This was not due to an “initial misjudgment,” according to Lloyd, but because the compositions “grew in an almost organic way:”
“The physical nature of the creative process invests the whole work, therefore, with a kinetic energy of its own.”
Degas was pursuing a new type of art by the 1870s, a type which challenged the traditions of the times and sought to usurp the authorities of the Academie des Beaux-Arts. Others with a similar aim to depict modern life in their art while experimenting with new styles and techniques included Monet, Renoir, Pissarro, Sisley, and Cezanne. This was the period of the birth of Impressionism, and Degas participated in Impressionist exhibitions. His work focused almost exclusively on contemporary subjects including scenes of the battle, horse racing, cafe-concerts, laundresses, and even criminals on trial, writes Lloyd.
Degas’s mastery of precise drawing combined with his capacities for acute observation and “remarkable powers of detachment” equipped him to document modern societal challenges in ways that his contemporaries, such as the novelist, Emile Zola, were doing in other art forms. Degas’s capacity to depict raw scenes of what then were considered to be socially improper activities tended to shock the art critics of his time.
Like many artists and innovators before and after him, Degas saw new possibilities in everyday realities that others did not. This book gives one an appreciation for the conditions and natural endowments that enabled Degas to not only master the conventions of his time but to break with them in order to change contemporary expectations of art.
Illustration: Charcoal and gouache by Black Elephant Blog author
Such challenges and approaches seem just as relevant today, and upcoming posts will consider the how individuals in different fields are able to innovate in “mature organizations” and amid sometimes rigidly defined conventions. In a turbulent, rapidly transforming world of paradoxically more frequent “rare” and unexpected “black swan” events, knowing more about how “serial innovators” succeed is becoming vital. So this blog will turn to the book, Serial Innovators: How Individuals Create and Deliver Breakthrough Innovations in Mature Firms, by Abbie Griffin, Raymond Price, and Bruce Vojak, (Stanford Business Books, 2012), for some meticulously researched findings on this subject.
Illustration: Watercolor, gouache, ink and gesso
Where we left off, in the previous post, “Little Dancer Coincidences,” was with the notion that “discontinuous discoveries” can result in a shift in our core beliefs. This notion comes from the book, Seeing What Others Don’t: The Remarkable Ways We Gain Insights, by Gary Klein who, as mentioned previously, is a research psychologist specialized in “adaptative decision-making.” Klein studied 120 cases, drawn from the media, books, and interviews, involving stories of how people “unexpectedly made radical shifts in their stories and beliefs about how things work.” From these cases, Klein was able to organize his research into five different strategies for how people gain insights, including: Connections Coincidences Curiosities Contradictions, and Creative Desperation According to Klein, all of the 120 cases he examined fit one of these strategies, but most relied on more than one.
Image: New York Times
Klein begins with the strategy of connections, and before proceeding with several fascinating examples, recalls the story told earlier in the book of Martin Chalfie, a biologist at Columbia University who–by virtue of attending a seminar on a topic unrelated to his work–ends up getting the idea for a natural flashlight that would let researchers look inside living organisms to watch their biological processes in action. At the time he attended the seminar, Chalfie was studying the nervous system of worms. The seminar covered topics that didn’t interest Chalfie initially, according to Klein; suddenly the seminar speaker described how jellyfish can produce visible light and are capable of bioluminescence. This led to Chalfie’s insight applicable to his own field. His insight led to an invention “akin to the invention of the microscope,” writes Klein, because it enabled researchers to see what had previously been invisible. For his work, Chalfie (seen in the photo to the left above) received a Nobel Prize in 2008.
Image: Wikipedia
Like Chalfie, certain people make connections between unrelated matters that their close colleagues don’t. Klein also tells the story of how the Japanese Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto (April 4, 1884- April 18, 1943) saw the implications of the British attack on the First Squadron of the Italian Navy early in World War II–before the United States had entered the conflict–then sheltered in the Bay of Taranto. Since the bay was only 40 feet deep, the Italians believed their fleet was safe from airborne torpedoes. The British, however, had devised adjustments to their torpedoes, including adding wooden fins to them, so that they wouldn’t dive so deeply once they entered the water. For Yamamoto, the successful British attack at Taranto produced the “insight that the American naval fleet “safely” anchored at Pearl Harbor might also be a sitting duck,” writes Klein. Yamamoto refined his ideas until “they became the blueprint for the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941” (although he himself was opposed to Japan’s decision to go to war with the U.S.); ironically, his other insight was that Japan would lose the war with the United States. Yamamoto studied in the U.S., and had two postings in Washington, D.C. as naval attache; he had insights about the U.S. that his colleagues did not. He was resented by his more militaristic colleagues for his views.
Organizations generally block the pathways of connections (and other strategies) needed for such insights to occur, according to Klein. This is because organizations are primarily concerned with avoiding errors. Ironically, this risk-aversion makes people inside organizations reluctant to speak up about their concerns, leading organizations to “miss early warning signals and a chance to head off problems.” Such problems are common in many fields, including science, according to Klein. Promoting forces that can countervail risk-aversion sometimes requires designating “insight advocates,” writes Klein, even though he admits he is dubious that any organization would sustain them or “any other attempt” to strengthen the forces for insight creation. Another method he suggests is to create an alternative reporting channel so that people can publish work that doesn’t go “through routine editing” and thus would “escape the filters.” But, he thinks this method “may work better in theory than in practice.”
A key problem for many organizations is not related to having or noticing insights, but instead it is “about acting on them.” Organizations that are less innovative because they are stifling insights, he says, “should be less successful” than they could be. The deleterious effect of the defect-exposing Six Sigma program on U.S. corporations is an example of how an all-out focus on eliminating errors gets in the way of innovation, says Klein. Clearly it is not a simple matter to balance the needs for efficiency and innovation within the same organization, particularly a “mature” organization. Klein concludes that the examples he gives are, for him, a “collective celebration of our capacity for gaining insights; a corrective to the gloomy picture offered by the heuristics-and-biases-community.” He continues: “Insights help us escape the confinements of perfection, which traps us in a compulsion to avoid errors and in a fixation on the original plan or vision.”
Klein ends up recommending “habits of mind that lead to insights” and help us spot connections and coincidences, curiosities and inconsistencies. The more successful we perceive ourselves being because of our beliefs, “the harder it is to give them {our beliefs} up.” The habits of mind Klein has covered in his book may “combat mental rigidity,” he writes. “They are forces for making discoveries that take us beyond our comfortable beliefs. They disrupt our thinking.” There is a “magic” that occurs when we have an insight, Klein concludes, and it “stems from the force for noticing connections, coincidences, and curiosities; the force for detecting contradictions; and the force of creativity unleashed by desperation.” So, while there is no blueprint for insight creation in Klein’s book, the many examples he cites are compelling reminders of the crucial role that insights play in stimulating new directions in any endeavor.
It seems, then, that insights can be both the source of surprises as well as help spur readiness for surprises. They can be the needed “black swans” to deal with inevitable “black swan events.” A take-away from this book: There may be no ten-step list to creating insights but understanding how to create favorable conditions to disrupt our thinking–so as to stimulate new connections and ideas–seems like useful knowledge in a world of inevitable surprises. Ostriches with their heads in the sand may not do as well as those who see what others don’t.
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