Thursday, September 23, 2010

The Art of Drew Struzan

2010 Book about Drew Struzan

Updated

There's a new book about a good portion of Drew Struzan's movie poster career. It's released date is September 24, 2010, and at the time of this writing is being sold at about 30% off at Amazon. It's called The Art of Drew Struzan.
Use www.ClickFiller.com to find a low-priced item to bring your total to $25 or more for free shipping where available.

Review

I received my copy early, and dived right in. I had 6 or 7 years experience as an illustrator in the movie poster design field myself, and just looking at the images brought back some fond — and some depressing — memories.

The book is full of movie posters — not all of them, though, to my disappointment — a selection from his career, showing both comps and finishes. Knowing that this was only a selection of a larger body of work, one gets the feeling this guy worked day and night to complete so much excellent work.

The surprise for me was that much of the text purports to be Drew's own words discussing his artwork. Some of the phrasing does not sound like the Drew I have met and feel like I know, though. Nevertheless, it seems to be a telling of a career in an industry that used up, chewed up and spit out one of the last great 'traditional' illustrators of our time. (Traditional in the sense that he created his art with art supplies in combination with his eyes, mind and hands).

"Big Trouble in Little China"
©Drew Struzan
From the foreword by Frank Darabont (Director, The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, The Mist) to the end of the book, the message is about the glory of the process of creating great art, and a lament that it is ultimately about money for the corporations that dish out movies, committees of people who believe they are actually important, making decisions in areas of visual appeal for which they can never hope to be qualified. Far from being a sour grapes tell-all (names are withheld to protect the tasteless, but a few punches are thrown nonetheless), Struzan speaks of gratitude for what his career afforded him, yet between the lines you read how easily for him came the decision to retire.

That language is raw and unvarnished at times from all contributors to the book, PG-13, as it were. It was, after all, a career in Hollywood.

For the visual artist, painter, or illustrator, the book is a virtual treasure chest of examples of how to design within (and without) a rectangle; how a work flows, how to control the viewer's eyes, and how to successfully tie elements of a montage together. Today's digital 'artists' with Photoshop and a Wacom tablet would do well to study this book for the use of color, transition, design and texture, use of lighting for drama and staging, and the absolute need for compelling imagery Drew's images demonstrate. A few years spent learning in a solid art school that teaches those things wouldn't hurt, either... if one can be found anymore.

There are three illustrators that influenced me more than any one else in my career, besides Norman Rockwell and JC Leyendecker of the past, and I was fortunate to get to be friends with each of them, often competing for work. Steven Chorney, who did nearly every piece of art inside the TV guide for years, Drew Struzan, (he pronounces it "STROO-zn") who was also a friend of Steve's and who was to movie posters what Norman Rockwell and Leyendecker were to magazine covers and advertising art, and Morgan Weistling, a 19-year-old kid who at the time had a growing reputation along the lines of "he's even better than Drew Struzan!" As much as I admire my friend Morgan's work, and am grateful for his substantial influence on my understanding of painting, Drew is a legend, too! From the first piece of his I ever saw and liked immediately— an Alice Cooper album cover from my high school graduation year, 1975 — to, well, everything he's done. I would learn later that Drew was 28 years old when he did that piece of art.

Alice Cooper Album Cover - Struzan
The album cover for Alice Cooper's Welcome To My Nightmare —not my cup of tea, but I ran into the album at a friend's house — was something I recognized as a beautiful design and decorative figure reminiscent of JC Leyendecker's paintings, whose work along with Norman Rockwell's I was just getting acquainted with at the time.

In 1987, I was attending a "Portfolio Review" sponsored by the Society of Illustrators. Drew was to be one of the reviewers, and I had wanted to meet him for about 10 years. I'd heard stories about what a remarkable student he was when he attended Art Center, years before I did.

Since I had been making a living as an artist for the previous 7 years at that time, I did not present my portfolio for review, since it was more for students or beginning illustrators. The evening was winding down and Drew's review station was empty so I went and introduced myself. After awkwardly telling him what a pleasure it was to meet him, and "I'm your biggest fan" and all that, he said "Well, show me what you've got..." gesturing to my portfolio that I had in my hand.

"Oh, no... I wasn't here for reviews, I just... uh... I don't really want you to see my..."

"Come on. We're in the same business. let's see it," he insisted with a smile.

I won't bore you with the details, but he was very complimentary — and then said, "Your work lacks love."

"Love?"

"Yes. It doesn't look like you love doing this for a living."

"Well, really, I don't. It's tedious, hard work, and I do too many all-nighters. I have a growing family to feed and I am always tired."

He asked me how much I made in my best year, and so I told him that this was my best year so far, and I was on track to make xx dollars." His eyes widened, and I thought he was going to scold me for complaining when I was making plenty in a tough field. Instead he said, "I make that much in a month. No wonder you don't like your work."

JFK by Darrow
He asked me to show him just one piece I loved, and so I showed him my illustration of John F. Kennedy, right, that I had done for the 1983 20th anniversary of the assassination, to be used for a local San Diego TV-guide-like magazine called Tuned-in.

That was a bit embarrassing, since it was a direct knock off of the style of another favorite of mine, Richard Amsel, who'd done a slew of TV Guide covers, many of which I had collected and hung on my wall in my studio.

John Travolta by Amsel
In fact, Richard had done the first Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom poster, the series of which Drew Struzan dominated after Richard's death in Nov. 1985 from a relatively new disease at the time, AIDS. Amsel's final work was a cover for TV Guide with portraits of Dan Rather, Peter Jennings and Tom Brokaw. Amsel died three weeks after its completion.

Drew asked me why I loved that one. I just shrugged and told him that it was because I got it done quickly. It only took a few hours. (I never told him I only got $100 for it). He said, quite matter-of-factly, "Well, that's no small thing. Maybe you're not cut out for all the detailed and tedious work. I could never do what you do [referring to the rest of my portfolio's tedious stuff]."

It had never dawned on me to choose to do work that fit my personality. I had thought it was a virtue to be thankful for work at all, and just do it.

Without missing a beat, Drew invited me to his home and studio in Lake Arrowhead, and for that day, about 3 weeks later, Drew took me under his wing, showing me dozens of originals and even a slide show he'd put together for public meetings showing his methods, start to finish. I was in Illustrator Heaven.

David R. Darrow & Drew Struzan 2009
Drew's generosity and directness breathed hope into a 30-year-old illustrator that year. I will forever be grateful.

22 years later, I ran into Drew and his wife Dylan at the Pasadena Museum of California Art, and was delighted that he remembered my name. He had a few very nice pieces in the gallery show, including a figurative sculpture and several oil paintings.

It was great to see him and if you'll excuse me, I must go buy his new book, The Art of Drew Struzan.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Studying Leyendecker

Lately, as I contemplate what direction I want to go next with my oil painting, I have been studying the elegance and simplicity of line and form in the work of turn-of-the-century illustrator J.C. Leyendecker [Amazon book link].

Of particular interest to me was his use of color sketches on canvas, his unique "grid-method" transfers, and exaggeration of the effects of light and shadow, in particular 'form shadows' or 'core shadows.' He always maintained a balance of cool and warm to help separate lights, too.

In one instance I found, left, he apparently painted the sketch the way he wanted it, then drew grid-lines through the still-wet oil paint to transfer the image to a another, perhaps larger canvas.

Sadly, Joe Leyendecker was very secretive about his work, taking with him to his grave his "secret medium" that allowed him to "draw fluidly with paint." Still, a student of his images could learn a lot about composition, conservation of line, beauty of shape, simplified volumes and idealization of face and figure.
This is the newest book of many about his work, and is filled with excellent pictures. It comes highly recommended — by me — for its beautiful pictures and examples, but probably not the quality of the text. Besides the authors' elevating Leyendecker by unnecessarily bashing my other early 20th century hero Norman Rockwell, stating opinion as fact, they assert that Rockwell definitely copied Leyendecker. How do they know something that I highly doubt? I have been studying both illustrators for nearly 40 years.

Plus I found the text to be highly speculative and overly concerned [to the point of the unmistakable stench of misplaced agenda] with the sexual preferences of this master Illustrator. — David R. Darrow

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

George

I got to visit my friend George yesterday. George is now officially a collector of my work, owning 2 of my paintings. George sneaked in at the last moment and snagged my John Wayne in Acrylic the other day. George is a painter, too, and he and I became acquainted in 2007 because George had found my work on eBay, looked me up and even sent me a painting of myself from a photo on a blog entry about a day I went plein air painting and my painting blew off the easel landing 'jelly side down.'

George is one of the kindest men I have met, and in many ways his gentleness and careful choice of words, easy laughter and substantial vocabulary remind me of my own father who passed away in 2005. I would venture that If it weren't for his knack for story telling, and his myriad stories from his career, you'd probably never guess he spent a good portion of his life as a Special Agent for NCIS (NCISA Who's Who Story: scroll halfway down).

I delivered the painting to him and he smiled, thanked me, shook my hand and set it down on his coffee table. I had to admit to George that I could not imagine why he wanted another painting. Far from being self-effacing with that question, I was referencing George's enormous collection of paintings, the vast majority of which are his own. He long ago ran out of wall-space in his four bedroom home, and both sides of his garage are modeified with shelves loaded with paintings, categorized and alphabetized. It's like a library or vinyl album collection, only it's all paintings on panels or canvas, sometimes still in frames, but mostly loose.

As we drank a glass of wine together, we talked about art, painting, his career, his fun memories of his duties an a special agent, the art of getting a confession (for much of his career he obtained more confessions from criminals than anyone else around using psychology, relationship-building and a polygraph machine -- much more often than not, the polygraph was unnecessary), and of course we talked about Pearl.

He's done between 2– and 300 paintings of his late wife Pearl among the hundreds if not thousands of paintings he's done. Pearl was the love of his life and he is never at a loss for words describing the beauty and gentleness of the woman who preserved his heart in a career that could have stripped him of it.

"I've never known a more selfless person in my whole life," he sighs.

Sadly, cancer took her life 7 years ago, and George was left with a home full of memories of her and their children together -- and his box of paints. He visits her grave site a couple of times a week, and talks to her, hoping she's around somewhere to hear.

I once heard that a "real" artist is one who will spend days, weeks or months on a creative pursuit and never care if anyone ever sees the work. This is largely true of George. The vast majority of his oil paintings are in deep stacks along the walls in his studio, the garage, on the piano, and so on. He mostly does portraits and figures, and if it were not for a visit to his home, or catching his fancy as a friend to whom he'd like to give an original portrait, you'd never know otherwise that he paints. He's doesn't try to sell them, but for some commissions he talks about. Many people who have been blessed to know him have received a portrait from him as a gift.

Painting is what he loves to do to pass the slow-moving time and remember his friends, and especially his favorite model of all time, Pearl.

Mary

Maryby David R. Darrow
14" x 11" (35.6cm x 27.9cm)
Oil on Canvas Panel

SOLD
Collection of Jose Arce
Jacksonville, IL – USA

About This Painting

Mary was a stranger to me the day I asked her if I could paint her portrait. I was struck by her wonderful multi-braided hair and dark, dark skin.

"Excuse me..." I said, interrupting her thoughts. I was going to ask her if I might possibly use her as a head model for study.

She turned and smiled a beyond-radiant smile. We talked for a bit and I explained what I do and that I'd like to paint her. I also mentioned I was being awarded a First Place at a local gallery's juried show and invited her to the reception.

She showed up with two of her nieces, who were equally beautiful, and whom I eventually painted, too.

All three young women are originally from Kenya, and Mary is aunt to the other two. They are named Dama and Dama – they are each the first daughter in their respective families and, following tradition, are named after their maternal grandmother who is, of course, Dama.  ◙


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Presence

Presenceby David R. Darrow
11" x 14" (27.9cm x 35.6cm)
Oil on Belgian Linen Panel

SOLD
Collection of Delilah Smith
Oldsmar, FL – USA

About This Painting

"She's a ballet dancer," my then-wife suddenly pointed out.

My wife – who has been in dance from childhood through most of her adult life – was out with me for breakfast one sunny Sunday morning at the harbor in Oceanside, CA. Erika was walking nearby with her mother.

From a short distance I was caught by something about her face. I haven't been around dance enough to pick up what my wife did, but she told me she just knew it "because of the way she carries herself."

I set down my fork and got up. "Let's go find out if she is. I'd like to paint her anyway." She has a long neck, lean frame, muscular arms and a gentle but focused, pretty face. At that moment, her hair was pulled back tight and put up in a bun.

Erika, 14 at the time, and her mother were delightful people to talk to and verified that Erika was indeed a dancer – a serious dancer, traveling the world with well-known companies. They told us that they were on vacation from their hometown in Florida and, fortunately for me, agreed to come by my studio the next day.

There is something that sets one dancer out from the rest, even though they may have similar training, athletic ability, grace and strength. What set her apart was what my wife saw, and what I wanted to capture.

Presence.  ◙


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Saturday, February 27, 2010

Feminine Model Study in 5 Values

Feminine Color Study in 5 Valuesby David R. Darrow
6" x 6" (15.2cm x 15.2cm)
Oil on Panel

SOLD
Collection of Denise Rich
El Cajon, CA – USA

About This Painting

Sometimes an artist wants to see what he or she can accomplish with as few strokes as possible and still communicate to the viewer the essence of what the artist saw.

To do this four fundamentals are needed, Drawing (Proportion), Value (Light to Dark), Edges (Transitions between shapes and hues) and Color (Hue). These have been listed in the order of importance, in my opinion.

Here, I did a study using 5 values of a few hues in rapid fashion to "make notes" of the model's face. Rendering and realism are not important here, just the placement and shape of the values.  ◙


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Black Man in Golden Neckshirt

Black Man in Golden Neckshirtby David R. Darrow
11" x 14" (27.9cm x 35.6cm)
Oil on Panel

SOLD
Collection of Georgann Bourgeois
Baton Rouge, LA – USA

About This Painting

This portrait came about several years after I last saw James, who was a student of mine when I taught at an Institute of Art in California, San Diego.

James was not only one the best students I ever had at this school, but was also a kind, well-mannered, friendly and talented, but had the most magnetic and engaging genetic gifting (good looks) I'd seen in a fellow of his particular ethnicity.

On the last day of class I asked if he might sit for some snapshots for an eventual portrait. This is a studio study from that moment in the past.  ◙


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