Quick Sketching, by Karen Ernst daSilva

A great sense of place can come from just a few broad lines.

One of the feelings that seems to stop many of us from using art as part of our way of seeing and thinking is that we get frustrated if we can't make something look "real." Recently I went to the Vancouver Art Museum to an exhibition of work by "The Group of Seven," early-20th-century Canadian artists who went on sketching trips in pursuit of landscapes to paint; landscapes that reflected "a Canadian spirit."

The essence of a place
Notice that The Group of Seven were trying to capture a "spirit," not photographic replicas or European-style paintings. They developed a method where they would visit the mountains, forests and lakes of Canada to make sketches, and then return to their studio to do paintings from the sketches.

Emily Carr's "Dancing Tree" is not a "realistic" painting; it evokes a feeling.

Their paintings are filled with swirling strokes of paint, bold colors that make trees, grasses and water. The artists' aim was to make the viewers of their paintings feel the essence of the rugged Canadian landscape. As their work became widely exhibited, it influenced other artists.

Taking inspiration
Emily Carr was one artist who was influenced by The Group of Seven. Her painting "Dancing Tree" shows their influence. As for me, the work of The Group of Seven made me confident in my ability to draw. I went out into the streets feeling braver about noticing and seeing, rather than worrying about making things appear "real." I wanted to capture a feeling.

A meaningful scene
One example I'd like to share took place one day when I was walking down a street in New York City. I was in Chinatown, thinking about visiting a neighborhood school. It was a family neighborhood, so it was common to see clothes drying on lines.

Strong feelings moved Karen to make the clothesline sketch.

On this day, I was stopped by one particular clothesline, hanging against a red brick building. The clothesline was hung from a black wrought-iron balcony and behind the clothes, against the building, was an enormous American flag. I just had to capture this sight in a sketch. I worked quickly, blocking in the flag, the flapping clothes, the windows, the balcony and a few bricks. I wrote in the color of each article of clothing on the clothesline, the colors of background and, of course, the flag. I plan to do a painting from the sketch. It, like the paintings of The Group of Seven, will be a bold reminder of what I saw. I hope it will hold the spirit of what I felt that day in Chinatown.

By the way, sketching like this in public makes passersby stop and look at you and then at the scene you are sketching. They're sure that you're an artist. Why else would you be doing such a thing in public? I hope that the people who stop to observe the scene that I'm sketching are taking away something from that scene – something that they will think about.

Karen Ernst daSilva is a writer, consultant, and was a Resource Teacher in Westport, CT.