Saturday, January 2, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
Celtic Knotwork
For the past few months, I’ve been drawing Celtic knotwork.
I use the word “knotwork” as a general term for the interlaced borders and panels that decorate the Books of Kells and Lindisfarne, as well as illuminated manuscripts, metalwork and stone carvings throughout the ancient Celtic world. However, knotwork is actually one of several pattern types such as plaitwork, spirals and key patterns.
I use two pattern books for reference: Celtic Art: The Methods of Construction by George Bain; and The Treasury of Celtic Knots by Aidan Meehan. One style pattern is formed by a continuous ribbon whose course is amazing to follow; others use multiple ribbons, which can be distinguished using several colors.
I plot dots for the pattern on graph paper, requiring a bit of simple math and a lot of counting, similar to needlepoint. Using a light box to see the dots, I pencil in the path of the pattern as a single line on a sheet of plain drawing paper. Next, I sketch in double lines along the path to form a ribbon, doing my best to keep its thickness even through all the twists and curves.
My partner Spencer once looked over my shoulder at my dots and intersecting lines and said, “Good Lord!” At this stage, it looks like a needlessly complicated muddle.
Now for the tricky part. Before applying ink, I follow the entire pattern and erase overlapping lines to show where the ribbon weaves “over” and “under” as it intersects other ribbons and doubles back on itself. Next, I ink in the lines with a black, felt-tip pen and then erase all the pencil lines.
If the pattern has multiple strands, I take another journey along the intricate paths to color each with a different colored pencil,.
Finally, I fill in the background with a black Sharpie.
It’s a lot of physical labor for something that could be done more precisely in half an hour in Adobe Illustrator. So what’s the point?
Following these labyrinths as the original artists did is remarkably satisfying, a kind of meditation. As the mind focuses entirely on the path, all thoughts requiring words disappear.
And in the end, you have something elemental and beautiful.
Knotwork is also an excellent subject for pyrography.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Pyrography
It's a fancy word for wood-burning, as in drawing with a heated stylus on wood, as kids once did at scout camp before things like environmental studies and Photoshop came along. It's very earthy, the perfect craft for our cabin in Harmony, Maine. I've been playing with it for a couple of years drawing birds and making plaques with people's names.
My hairy woodpecker plaque won Second Place last year at the Harmony Fair. But it didn't go to my head because there was no first place, and the only other wood burner did a tray featuring Mickey Mouse and all the gang. I received a red ribbon and four dollars, which I squandered foolishly.
This weekend in Harmony, I made a plaque for my brother's upcoming birthday. It took me hours to draw the design and transfer it to the slab of wood, but only about half an hour to actually burn the image.
There are a couple of problems with this craft. I'd like to take a class or join a club so I can improve my technique, but I can't find any. Wood-carving clubs open their membership to wood burners, but most have few or no takers. I've also seen some fine work online by very talented artists, but the subject matter gives me pause. They favor portraits of John Wayne, eagles, and deer. And they all seem to be in Arizona and New Mexico.
So for the moment, I'm a New England wood-burners club with one member.
