Black on White

Orson Welles as Harry Lime in THE THIRD MAN (Carol Reed 1949) .

When Renee Rilexie, curator of EVOCATIVE at The Menier Gallery, asked contributing artists to explain what the word evocative meant to them, this was the image that instantly sprang to my mind. A still shot from the classic Film Noir The Third Man, where a beam of light briefly illuminates a man's face and the key plot twist is revealed. The Third Man is the greatest ever Film Noir. I should say 'arguably the best' but I don't believe there is a case to be argued.This film is a breathtaking piece of cinematography for which Robert Krasker won the Academy Award. In terms of story, character, score and production it is an extraordinary play of light and dark. 

The fact that the word evocative brought a black and white image to mind, led me to wonder what changes in our perceptions when colour is absent. Monochrome commands very specific responses. Perhaps the most obvious of these, since technicolour processes and colour photography were rare and expensive before the mid-20th century, is an evocation of nostalgia. Old family photographs and flickering newsreels cannot fail to suggest past times. However, monochrome is not simply the soft-focus and vintage charm of a bygone era. Stripped of colour: line, tone, form and composition become somehow more individually substantial. It is as if the simplicity of black and white offers an articulacy that a 'full-colour' experience lacks. Perhaps this is why terms such as 'classic', 'minimal' or 'sophisticated'  are often associated with black and white photography.

From Alice in Wonderland Illustrator: John Tenniel

Edward Gorey

“When you photograph people in color, you photograph their clothes. But when you photograph people in Black and white, you photograph their souls.” 


                          ― Ted Grant

From The Wolves of Willoughby Chase Illustrator: Pauline Baynes

I have always loved the experience of putting black ink to paper. I love the dynamism of the graphic line, the way it instantly animates the empty paper's surface. Without question this love affair stems back to childhood and the illustrations of Pauline Baynes, Pat Marriott, Edward Gorey, Boz and Phiz. I spent many a long hour tracing comic strips and characters from Beryl the Peril to Snoopy.  

It wasn't until I began to draw with pen, sometime in my mid-teens, that I felt even slightly in charge of the act of drawing. I think this is largely because pen can't be rubbed out and so, instead of endlessly correcting and adjusting my greyish pencil studies, I had to be decisive. Every mark I made was there to stay, I had to make them work. 

The virtue of pen or brush and ink is that they produce such direct images. Small wonder they are still favoured by cartoonists and graphic novelists. Paul Klee famously said that a drawing is "simply a line going for a walk",  as if it is the line and not the artist who is in charge. On a good day, I find that my pen lines do seem to do exactly what they want.and find I am drawing with an assurance that is not entirely mine. Perhaps it is the will power of the line? 

Paul Klee: Lines, Dots and Circles

From Art Spiegelman's graphic novel MAUS

Ironically, the artwork I am showing in the EVOCATIVE show this August is very colourful. However, I am also leading a workshop on drawing with pen and ink. Admission is free, materials provided, and all ages are welcome. For those who cannot make August 23rd, here are a couple of trade secrets that I will be sharing on the day:
1.The black and white choice you face is to make the mark, or leave a space. Blank areas are
    every bit as active as drawn, so be aware of their shape. 
2. Doodle at all times. It is very important, whatever your teachers told you.

---