Duane Wakeham. For me, the name conjures up luminous paintings of the California countryside. These take-your-breathe away paintings have perfect composition, values, colour combinations, and edge. Duane Wakeham is a master landscape painter so worthy of emulation (and if you want to get better at landscape painting, study his landscapes!).

So, if you’re familiar with the work of Duane Wakeham, you may have been surprised by this blog’s title.

Somewhere along the line, I saw that he was exhibiting his drawings of male nudes.

What?? thought I. Male nudes?? By Duane Wakeham?? This was a bombshell.

Loving the human figure as I do, it’s an understatement to say I was intrigued. And when I saw his fabulous life drawings, what a revelation! So, next step, ask Duane Wakeham if he would consider guest blogging about his drawings of the male nude. I held my breathe and to my enormous delight, he said yes!

To remind you of Duane’s work, have a look at this exquisite landscape recently shown at the Pastel of Society of America’s ‘Enduring Brilliance’ exhibition. (You can also see a few more at the end of blog I wrote on IAPS interviews.)

 

 

Before I turn the blog over to Duane Wakeham, first a little background.

 

Duane Wakeham bio

After earning a Bachelors degree in painting at Michigan State University, Duane Wakeham moved to California in 1959 for graduate study at Stanford University, where he taught drawing and painting for three years. Following two years of travel and painting in Europe, he taught art history and painting at the College of San Mateo (CA).

In 1995, Wakeham received double honors when he was named Master Pastelist by the Pastel Society of America (PSA) and Distinguished Pastelist by the Pastel Society of the West Coast (PSWC). He was elected to the Pastel Society of America Hall of Fame in 2000 and named Pastel Laureate by the Pastel Society of the West Coast in 2009. He is one of only five artists who have received the two top pastel honors. He is Vice President of PSA, and serves on the International Association of Pastel Societies (IAPS) Advisory Council and the Pastel Journal Editorial Advisory Board. He has judged exhibitions and taught pastel workshops across the U.S. and in Canada. In 2007 he introduced the first IAPS landscape master class, a seminar entitled The Thinking Part of Painting.

He has had many solo exhibitions and his work is in public and private collections in the United States and Europe. Articles about Wakeham have appeared in Pastel Journal; American Artist; The Best of Pastels; Pure Color: The Best of Pastels; The Artist and the American Landscape; and he was one of the featured artists in A Painter’s Guide to Design and Composition. He was revision author of three editions of Mendelowitz’s A Guide to Drawing, a leading college drawing textbook.

In addition to his landscape work in both pastels and oils, Wakeham has maintained a weekly schedule of drawing the figure for nearly 30 years. And this leads nicely into the blog!

And now, I hand you over to Duane Wakeham!

 

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Duane Wakeham and The Male Nude

Until a recent exhibition of my figure drawings, only twice before in many years of exhibiting were paintings and drawings of the figure included. Otherwise I have always been identified with landscapes.

A few months ago, looking through sketchbooks dating back to my high school years, I was surprised how many of the drawings were of figures. They were prompted by a drawing class I was taking from the “local artist.” Art was not taught in the public schools at that time.

Since junior high I wanted to be an illustrator and in June 1950 – two years after graduating from high school – I entered the Meinzinger Commercial Art School in Detroit. Unfortunately, the Korean War broke out that same month and six months later I began a 4-year enlistment in the Navy. By the time of my discharge I had decided against illustration, choosing instead to pursue a college education and go into teaching.

Brief as my time at Meinzingers had been, it was there that I learned to draw. Curriculum for beginning students was a week of figure drawing – five hours a day – alternating with a week of classes in color, design, perspective, and anatomy (copying anatomy plates). My figure drawing instructor had studied at the Art Institute of Chicago for six years, followed by three years in two highly respected academies in Paris, and his teaching reflected that training. It was in his class that I learned not only how to draw the human figure, but how to draw anything and everything because he taught his students how to see.

When I enrolled in a figure drawing class at Michigan State University five years later and discovered the emphasis was on expressive drawing, I was extremely grateful for the earlier “traditional” training. I’ve always told students that you never have to apologize for knowing how to draw.

My only complaint about the figure drawing class at Meinzingers was the same one I had for all subsequent drawing classes and groups for the next couple of decades – the absence of male models. Except for a few sessions with a clothed female model and a clothed male model (both advanced students at the school), all models were female nudes. The justification for including clothed models was that aspiring illustrators needed to know how to depict the clothed figure – a logical explanation, but why then draw female nudes 95% of the time?

 

 

 

At Michigan State, because “professional male models were unavailable,” semi-clothed male students sometimes posed for figure drawing and painting classes. At Stanford in 1959, there were occasional professional male models in posing straps.

 

 

 

Then came San Francisco’s legendary Summer of Love in 1967 and suddenly most male models chose to pose nude, a decision that startled and troubled many art departments and instructors. Their response was not to book male models, claiming that the male body was much too difficult for beginning students to draw. If challenged, they might concede to hire a male model once or twice at the end of a semester – a practice that still continues at some schools. I’ve always questioned how students could learn to draw the male figure unless provided the opportunity to do so.

Lest I sound obsessed with seeing nude men, during four years as an enlisted man in the Navy I saw plenty of naked bodies. My frustration was in never having the opportunity to draw one.

During my college teaching years I had only limited opportunities to draw the figure, but when I took early retirement in the mid ‘80s I was determined that in addition to painting landscapes, I would to make time to draw and paint the figure. And that’s when Gay Men’s Sketch became part of my weekly routine.

 

GAY MEN’S SKETCH

San Francisco photographer Mark Chester created Gay Men’s Sketch (GMS) in 1987 following a semester of figure drawing at San Francisco City College. Prompted by his disappointment that there were not an equal number of male and female models and by the general attitude toward male models, he decided to start a drawing group where gay men could draw gay models. I was somewhat skeptical upon first hearing about the group, but after attending an AIDS fundraiser that the group sponsored, a friend and I determined that GMS was a legitimate drawing group and began attending regularly. And 29 years later I continue to show up almost every week.

The group is open to “sketchers” of all levels – beginners, professionals, young, old, mostly men (a few women, including the mother of one of the regulars who draws with the group for a month when she comes from Kansas), plus visitors from around the country and from other countries who have heard about the group.

All the men who pose are gay or gay-friendly; not professional models. They represent a range of ages, ethnicities, body types, and have included doctors, lawyers, professors, teachers, students, physicists, actors and performers, artists, men who draw with the group (indeed, some models join the group).

Some pose only once or twice; others pose frequently. The mix of backgrounds and interests of both the sketchers and the models generates an amazing energy that makes each evening of drawing so interesting. The only people not welcome are those with “attitude.”

 

 

In 2002 I was instructed by Jimmy Wright to do a small pastel of a male nude for a special exhibition – PRIVATE VIEWS: Places, Faces, and Figures – that he was co-curating for Pastel Society of America. Although the piece was sent off in just a couple of weeks, it initiated a year of pastel drawings of male nudes at both the weekly GMS sessions and at another weekly group I attended. I was using Faber Castell Hard Pastels (recommended by Maggie Price for their color fastness).

I stopped working in pastel at GMS a year later when space became a problem.

Most of these pastel drawings were done in 20 minutes – only occasionally was an extra five minutes added. All remained untouched after the poses ended.

The following drawings are not presented in chronological order. At any given session the drawings done were often very different from each other. I simply responded to the pose, the placement of the light, the color of paper selected, and took it from there, having no idea what might happen. When you have just 20 minutes, you don’t have a lot of time to think about what to do. You just start drawing.

My goal is always to draw the figure as convincingly as possible and during the period when these drawings were done, to use color as interestingly as possible in the time allotted. Some are more successful than others.

The drawing sent to Jimmy Wright for the PSA exhibition was the only one made to be shown. All others were done for the challenge and for my own pleasure.

The drawings are on Canson Mi-Teintes paper; all are 12 x 16 in.

 

This drawing of Graham, a frequent model during the year of using pastels, combines a full contour line with hasty last-minute hatching and bold, somewhat crude highlights. What pleases me about the drawing is that when you squint, the figure appears quite believably 3-dimensional. It also suggests the vitality that results from drawing a live model, a vitality absent in a drawing done from a photograph.

 

 

There will be some evidence of contour drawing in almost every drawing selected for this blog. I consider the drawing of ‘Z Reclining’ to be primarily a contour drawing, augmented with only minimal color which allows the richness of the paper color to play a major role.
The varied weight of the contour line – barely indicated along the length of the models right side – contributes to the illusion of a three-dimensional form reclining on a flat surface rather than appearing to hover in space. The lightness of the cross-contour hatching, which is not as energetic as in the previous example, is in keeping with the character of the contour drawing. Should you wonder, Z’s left arm is tattooed from his shoulder to his wrist.

 

 

Rich, dark-value paper called for a different handling of color – preliminary block-in and some hatching with red-orange; fuller definition with purple contour line (accented in some areas both to convey a sense of volume and to place the figure in space); relatively uniform directional hatching, plus several solid highlights. I particularly like the highlights on knee and nostril and the even-less-noticeable green highlight on model’s forehead. The pose is such that the figure appears to be seated on the floor or ground, not suspended in space.

 

 

The barely visible preliminary block-in that located the figure on the page and established its proportions, was followed by a dark value, accented contour line. Early on, this began to establish a sense of volume and placed the weight of the figure solidly on his left leg, even though the foot is merely suggested. The random, sketchy hatching on the torso was probably a response to the model’s furry chest and his shaggy hair and beard. Summarized as it is, the head appears to be solid and conveys a strong sense of character.

 

 

Not being trained as an action hero illustrator, this pose presented a challenge. Getting the four extended limbs properly placed, correctly proportioned, and with at least a somewhat convincing suggestion of volume and the space they occupy, ended up as an almost complete contour drawing. Had there been more time, I probably would have varied the thickness of the line and added more dark accents to create a greater sense of volume. Instead, I spent the final moments adding as much color as possible. Although not as rich as I might have liked it, I am pleased with the degree to which it conveys a sense of 3-dimensionality to both the body and the surrounding space. With the two sketchy lines suggesting what had to be a hammock of some sort, the model’s right hand and foot appear to rest on the floor. Without them, the figure might well appear to be suspended in space.

Rotating the drawing counter-clockwise, the figure could serve as a study for a painting of Icarus.

 

 

I have always enjoyed the challenge that foreshortening presents, but have to acknowledge that even though I spent almost the full 20-minutes on the drawing, I didn’t resolve it successfully and found myself with only a few final minutes to introduce a minimal suggestion of color. But what I like about the color I was able to add is how the few accents of lighter, brighter red-orange – i.e. the model’s left ear, the line at the bottom of his left shoulder, and the few strokes suggesting the fingers of his right hand – serve to pull the figure away from background. I also like how just a few strokes of color give structure to the head. They probably were added without thought at the very last frantic moment.

 

 

Another drawing of Z, his tattooed arm hidden behind him this time. As the first pose of the evening, this image might be considered a warm-up study – a light blocking-in of the full figure, a few accented lines, plus a variety of broken, patchy strokes to suggest skin color and volume. This is the first drawing that demonstrates the introduction of a different color and value used both to define a contour and to create a sense of space behind the figure. In this instance, it also provides visual support for the figure and stabilizes the composition.

 

 

Although the pose is one of meditation, the fullness of the color resulting from multiple layers of hatching in combination with the paper color is not exactly calming. But some visual relief is provided by the last minute addition of the cool neutral color behind the figure. Variations of this use of a color (that’s different from that of the paper) to separate the figure from the background will be an element in many of the remaining drawings.

 

 

Although drawn on different evenings, these two studies are so similar that they look as though they could have been done one after another as a pair. In contrast to the previous drawing, the bold lights suggesting the pillows on which the figures are resting have been brought into the foreground. The background remains mostly paper color except for the strokes of muted grey-green beside/behind Eric’s elbow and the bolder strokes of probably the same muted grey-green defining the lower right leg of the unidentified model, plus the single stroke at the base of his skull.

As in so many of images, traces of the initial drawing remain visible.

 

 

“Grant 1” was done during the initial session working in pastel at GMS; “Grant 2” and “Grant 3” date from several months later. Although similar at first glance, I think they are different enough one from another to warrant being included.

“Grant 4” is from the same session as “Grant 3” but the choice of a different color paper resulted in a very different image.

 

 

I always try to have a supply of favorite color papers in the portfolio when I head out to the drawing group and keep a few sheets of each on my drawing board throughout the evening. Depending on the model, the pose, and the lighting, I select a color to work on, but without too much deliberation. But once selected, color and value of the paper influence both the way I choose to draw and the colors I choose to draw with.

Although these two drawings of the same model would seem to be from the same evening of drawing, they were done two months apart. I can state with considerable certainly that even though I would have recognized the model, I would not have remembered the earlier drawing (figure standing) and deliberately set out to do a companion drawing. Somehow the similarity in the two drawings just happened.

 

 

Two additional images from later in the year suggest that I seemed to believe that any drawing done on Canson’s Red Earth required including the two values of the complimentary greyed-green. I have no idea, however, what prompted the addition of bright blue. I am sure it was more impulsive than deliberate, but consider it a welcome change.

 

 

Patterns of light and dark play a major role in defining volume and delineating anatomy. In a group situation, one person generally controls the lighting and everyone else hopes for the best. Raking light is always particularly interesting and I felt that I lucked out on both of these occasions when the placement of the light source in relation to the position and pose of the models, produced an interesting distribution of highlights, half-lights, and shadows.

Although the models for the group always posed before a white background, the impact of the lighting was heightened by the choice of dark paper. The addition of the light background, however, was necessary to define the silhouettes of both figures.

The positioning of the figure of David off-center was an arbitrary decision that served to heighten the drawing’s sense of drama.

 

 

This third example of raked light, half-light, and strong silhouetting of the figure against a light background, was executed with almost no actual drawing. The initial blocking-in of the figure is barely visible with the contours of the model and the chair defined by the broken pattern of light shapes. What interests me is how the highlighted flesh tones define the volume of the figure and the space he occupies.

 

 

I have to wonder if my choice of paper color for this drawing was a subconscious reaction to a pose lacking in energy and drama – not that a model can’t sometimes simply sit quietly. And that quietness is what this drawing conveys in the choice and handling of color, as well as in the quality of the drawing. A 20-minute pose doesn’t allow much time to reflect on your feelings, but certainly what you produce is evidence of how you are responding.

 

 

Same model; same drawing session. Additional examples of choice of paper color influencing character of drawing.

 

 

This study of Enrique that was done at a different group suggests how all the drawings might have been developed had the poses been extended for an additional 20 minutes. Interestingly, out of all of the drawings done in the two groups combined, it is the only one so fully rendered.

 

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I am honoured that Duane Wakeham entrusted me with the publication of these pastels of male nudes on my blog.

You can’t help but be inspired by his work – I know I am!  And remember, incredibly, these were done in 20-25 mins!

If you go to life drawing, it may also entice you to try using pastels rather than only black and white media at your next session. And if you don’t presently go life drawing, I hope these drawings will motivate you to get started!

Have you been inspired? Have you learnt something about drawing the figure? Were you surprised to see this work by Duane Wakeham? Please let us know what you think.

 

As always, thank you for your company on this pastel adventure!!

 

Until next time,

~ Gail

 

PS. Learn more from Duane Wakeham himself in these two short interviews I made at IAPS.

Also be sure to go read this fabulous article in The Artist’s Magazine! It’s a conversation between Duane Wakeham and Jimmy Wright and will show you how Duane develops a landscape painting.