This time round the artist tried too hard. The elusive likeness was approached, lost, briefly glimpsed, and lost again. Finally a little confidence was gained, strangely enough, when the cause was seen as lost and there was nothing to lose.
Today I fought impatience, clumsiness, and the distraction of the 3rd round of the PGA Master’s tournament, alternating between study-sketches of Emma Thompson with her costars Dustin Hoffman and Sir Anthony Hopkins, and Emma Thompson with three other Emma Thompsons. Catching her likeness is still a hit-or-usually-miss proposition. I have trouble with her chin, her exquisite but caricaturish mouth, and her overall likeness, which in my still-incapable hand ranges from Cate Blanchettish to Florence Hendersonish. Persistence and practice will take care of that, I hope.
Here are the images:
Long ago a little girl and her dad sang a song to the tune of the theme of “Animaniacs,” a popular cartoon of the time:
We’re KATIE and her Pop
And we NEVER EVER stop
We hope that we don’t flop
A bunny is a lop
Katie AND her
Come and take a GANDer
Jason AlexANDer
Katie and her Pop!
(And we don’t stop!)
Well, those days are forever gone, but the young woman the little girl became still has plenty of mischief in her, and her Old Dad has his fond memories. Daughter and father get together every so often, most recently three days ago on her 25th Birthday, where they had Movie and a Dinner. Next planned outing is a midnight showing of AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON. They’ve been great Movie Buddies since Disney’s Aladdin, and there’s no sign of stopping.
I am thrilled to report that the Stan Getz drawing, prepared for, executed, and framed, has been delivered to the gentleman who commissioned it, and he has indicated that he is completely satisfied with the result. He also added a $20 bonus to the $200 we agreed on at the outset. The above image is the drawing in the frame, cropped to preserve the anonymity of the owner, who is holding the framed drawing so that I could take a picture of it.
Previously, I’d taken pictures of the drawing, and also tried scanning it in halves and splicing the halves, since it was too big to fit on the scanner bed. Here’s that spliced image, photoedited for color and drama:
Before we parted company my friend and benefactor paid me a compliment that I’ll gladly keep. He’d seen Stan Getz portrait attempts, and many of the artists ALMOST got him, but not quite; “but you got him.” Now that makes my day, and makes me smile.
For my fifth and final Stan Getz facial detail, I used a photo of him at rest. He looks like he’d put in a rugged session either recording or performing. Through his tired eyes I saw vulnerability and need.
The Stan Getz commissioned drawing is finished. Tomorrow I will deliver it. I’ll never hear jazz the same way again–that’s a good thing indeed.
Here is the “Seasoned” Stan Getz, who has faced acclaim, disaster, and dislocation. He’s been around the block plenty. No one can match his Sound.
At this point I’ve learned enough about Stan Getz’s face to picture it and describe it without looking at a photo: Pale. Nose slightly aquiline. Short but not weak chin. Deep-set eyes, with sockets sloping upward toward the middle of the face. Ears small but protrusive. (Birth trauma trivia: Stan’s poor mom, Goldie, had 35 hours of labor. The doctor went in with forceps. Stan’s head was so big one of his ears was almost torn off and needed suturing. The doctor said they couldn’t leave with Stan until they’d paid an additional $52–a huge sum of money in 1927–for the ear work. “$52?” Al Getz gasped. “That’s too much. You can keep him.” Then he paid up.)
Here is a first take on a solo headshot of Stan Getz. There will be four more.
Words:
Smoothened F then sharpened G
Talk with tune of what will be
Anthemed improv free of rust
No one’s catspaw no one’s klutz
Now it can be told: My recent interest in the saxophone and the world of jazz is due to my acceptance of a commission to do a portrait of Stan Getz, the tenor saxophonist known as The Sound. I knew next to nothing about Getz, and was completely unfamiliar with the structure of the saxophone. Now, with several drawings under my belt, armed with the critically praised STAN GETZ: A LIFE IN JAZZ by Donald L. Maggin, and (just as important) having listened to some Getz sides, I am well on the way to meeting my deadline of April Fool’s Day with some familiarity with Mr. Getz and the world he inhabited. This is an enjoyable project, and I think I’ll come out of it a better artist. I’m a long way from the finish line, though!
One thing Clark Gable and Jackson Browne have in common is the nonuse of their first names. Wikipedia says they were born Clyde Jackson Browne and William Clark Gable. Another thing they had in common was their alleged scandalous involvement with movie stars. Mr. Browne was with Daryl Hannah and Mr. Gable was with Loretta Young. Ms. Hannah has alleged that Browne physically abused her; Ms. Young alleged that Mr. Gable fathered her child. One story has been discredited; one has not.
Both of these fellows indulged in derring-do. Jackson Browne wrote one of the greatest protest songs of the 20th Century, “Lives in the Balance.” Mr. Gable flew combat missions in WWII.
And why do I put myself in their company? Well, my hair is straight and used to be brown, like Jackson’s; my moustache is semi-sparse, like Clark’s. All three of us did some time in California. None of us is 99 and 44/100 % pure. And all three of us have had a woman close to us die before her time.
But that isn’t it. Not really. The thing is, Jackson Browne and Clark Gable both possess a quality I want. They have both been Champions, and so I wish to be. I’m not a Champion yet, but I’m encouraged by my Champion’s Training of late.
No need to wish me luck, Friends. If I have it in me to be a Champion, Luck is something I won’t need.
Five years ago Thursday I was watching Jack Evans, “the Godfather of Phoenix poetry” according to Phoenix New Times, co-host and perform in the Caffeine Corridor series, and I was fortunate enough to have pencil and scrap paper on hand and a ringside seat, so I did a sketch. That that was five years ago attests to the longevity of Caffeine Corridor, and of Jack.
Today I was delighted to see that Jack had made that long-ago sketch his Facebook avatar, probably in acknowledgment of the five-year anniversary of my sketch. Jack, you REALLY MADE MY DAY, doing this! Thanks so much!
One with Clay, Image and Text 