The snowy egret I鈥檓 sketching is not cooperating. I can鈥檛 get its kinked yet sinewy neck to look right. And its legs鈥攖here shouldn鈥檛 be four of them! My bird looks like a pistachio stuck with a speared olive, walking on clothespins.
Meanwhile, as I scrawl with a pencil on a small sketchpad, my model鈥攁 wild bird鈥攃ontinues pecking at mudflats in Bolinas Lagoon, between Northern California鈥檚 Point Reyes National Seashore and the Golden Gate National Recreation Area, completely oblivious to my artistic frustrations.
I鈥檓 enrolled in an avian drawing class at the Point Reyes Birding and Nature Festival. My instructor is John Muir Laws, a California-based artist, naturalist, educator, scientist, and field guide author (he鈥檚 related only 鈥渂y spirit鈥 to the legendary naturalist). After a morning crash course on the basics, set in the classroom, Laws has led about a dozen of us adult students into a breezy, sun-streaked April day to try our hands at field sketching.
Raised by an amateur botanist and a birder, Laws learned to love nature at an early age. A family friend turned him on to drawing, a pursuit that became an essential tool鈥擫aws is severely dyslexic and supplements written observations of the natural world with sketches. Now 46, Laws has devised a novel array of tips that may not transform you overnight into the next David Sibley but are easy and rewarding to follow. They make their print debut this September in his new book, (Heyday Books). 鈥淲e have this myth that drawing is a gift,鈥 says Laws, but 鈥渋t鈥檚 a skill that any of us can learn.鈥 What鈥檚 more, developing that skill leads to much more than just artwork鈥攊t can make you a better birder or naturalist by forcing you to pay close attention to what you鈥檙e sketching. 鈥淵ou鈥檙e seeing details that have always been there in front of you but you鈥檝e never really been able to focus on,鈥 says Laws.
While I am somewhat artistic, until my course with Laws, I had virtually no experience drawing birds aside from the occasional doodle. If tasked with penciling in, say, a blue jay perched on a nearby branch, I probably would have begun by outlining its contours. But that鈥檚 not the best approach, according to Laws. To get started, he instead suggests three basic steps. First, before anything, notice the bird鈥檚 posture鈥攊s it looking up? Head down?鈥攁nd draw a simple line, like an axis, suggestive of that position.
Next, focus on the bird鈥檚 proportions. Where is the head relative to the body, and what size are the two? Using the initial line you drew as a guide, block in the proportions with circular shapes. The result should be something vaguely resembling Frosty the Snowman. At this stage鈥攁nd this is critical鈥攄ouble-check your work. Those who don鈥檛 will learn the hard way. 鈥淎t the end of the drawing they鈥檒l say, 鈥楳y bird looks wrong鈥,鈥 says Laws. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 because you have a western sandpiper with a head the size of a chickadee. And at that point, there鈥檚 nothing that you can really do to fix that.鈥 (You can use an eraser, but I find it cumbersome.)
Once the proportions check out, look for the bird鈥檚 defining angles, such as where the head and tail connect with the body. 鈥淚 think of carving those into these bubbles of proportion that I鈥檝e set up,鈥 says Laws. 鈥淚 then have a framework [in which] I can come along and start to put in the detail.鈥 To better identify these angles, take note of 鈥渘egative space鈥濃攖hat is, the area around the bird that鈥檚 not bird. Focusing on this open space will bring the individual鈥檚 defining edges into stark relief.
Mastering these three steps helps capture what Laws calls the bird鈥檚 oomph or, as some birders say, its jizz鈥攖he essence of the species. 鈥淲hat is finchiness, finchosity? You want your chickadee to be chickadee-esque,鈥 says Laws, your magpie to be 鈥渕agpie-y.鈥 Think of Roger Tory Peterson鈥檚 silhouettes. They鈥檙e deceptively simple, black shapes, yet they clearly represent one type of bird, even without the details.
What comes next depends on what you want to focus on鈥攊ndividual feathers or markings, perhaps an eye, maybe the patterns of light and dark from plumage and shadows. Understanding birds鈥 general anatomy, discussed in Laws鈥檚 book, will help you make sense of your observations. But the key to field sketching is to draw what you see, and not what you think should be there. For example, even if you know that birds have three forward-facing toes but only one is visible, 鈥測ou can just draw one toe,鈥 says Amanda Krauss, an artist and fellow student in my class who has had trouble rendering bird feet. 鈥淚t was like a lightbulb went off for me.鈥
Nature sketching guides abound, but where birds are concerned, Laws thinks his fills a void. 鈥淪ome books will have illustrations that are really inspiring,鈥 he says, but they don鈥檛 explain how the drawings are made. 鈥淚 wanted to really deconstruct what is happening when I make my lines, where I鈥檓 looking, where I suggest that people focus.鈥
He鈥檚 breaking new ground, says Hannah Hinchman, a nature journalist and artist who once taught Laws in a workshop and reviewed an early draft of his book. 鈥淭here鈥檚 nothing static,鈥 she says. 鈥淗e just refuses to see these mobile, fluid birds as objects. He sees them as alive, and that鈥檚 the way they come across on the page.鈥
Drawing outside is crucial to creating a realistic bird in two dimensions. The easiest species may even be one that鈥檚 most accessible, like your backyard cardinal or house finch. As you observe, jot down notes in addition to sketching, and ponder out loud, asking yourself questions such as, 鈥淲hat does this bird remind me of?鈥 or 鈥淚 wonder why it has markings like that?鈥 (At Bolinas, one classmate suggested that a flock of swimming cormorants resembled Phoenician ships.) While the very act of drawing helps solidify a memory, verbalizing what you鈥檙e seeing ingrains it that much more. Should the bird fly off, you鈥檒l still have a few details in mind to flesh out your drawing.
Sketching outdoors will also help you achieve what Laws considers one of the most important goals in drawing birds: forging a more meaningful connection with nature. In other words, don鈥檛 aim for the perfect picture; you鈥檒l only get frustrated if it doesn鈥檛 turn out right. Instead, draw to observe more deeply and to remember those precious moments removed from the mechanized world. The more focused you are on experiencing what you鈥檙e seeing, the less you鈥檒l care about your masterpiece, and 鈥渢hat frees you up to make lots of drawings,鈥 says Laws. As a pleasant by-product, 鈥渢he more you draw, the better it gets.鈥
I鈥檓 still learning the ropes. My snowy egret is hardly a mirror image, but now I know that I can ignore my inner art critic鈥攁 liberating concept. Even so, establishing a drawing habit is hard; I鈥檝e practiced a few times since my class. On one gorgeous, mild day in May I visit a lake near my Brooklyn apartment. Spying several mute swans, I settle down with my sketchpad near a tree. I notice how one bird鈥檚 neck fluidly recoils like a snake, and I admire the species鈥 dramatic, inky eyeliner. A man and a boy study the way one swims鈥攕omething I see, too, marveling at its feet like built-in paddles. I鈥檓 reminded of what Laws told me: 鈥淚f you can get yourself to slow down and appreciate that bird, for whatever it has new to teach you, the wonders that you鈥檙e going to see in even the most common things are infinite.鈥 How could I resist?