I'm Ready for my Closeup!

The face is typically one of the first things an artist learns how to draw. Not just in the formal training, but sometimes even in childhood. A face is the number one image that a viewer can connect with. This is so much so, that people often 'make order out of chaos', wherein we will attribute a facial likeness to something that is not a face: i.e. an electrical outlet can look like a very surprised person. The reason this occurs is because the face is the primary mode of showing emotion. Body language comes in second. Emotion is one of the most basic things that a person can understand and identify with. You don't have to teach a person to cry, smile, or concentrate. We just do it, and we can recognize it in someone else immediately.

This is why an artist can take advantage of the close-up. A close-up is a camera angle where the primary subject is the character's face. It can range anywhere between including the character's shoulders and a significant area above the head, to showing one very large eye.

Using a close-up draws the reader in to a very intimate level with the character. Think of it this way: if you are actually this close to a person in real life, the

only reason you'd allowed to be that physically close to them is because you are intimately connected with them. When a person's face takes up most or all of your visual range, there is a lot of trust and vulnerability that they are allowing you to share. And if they aren't wanting that, they will retreat away from you.

Because the face is one of the first things an artist learns to draw, it is in some ways the easiest thing for them to draw. Thus, many times, an artist will cop out and pull the camera in close to the character simply because it is easier or it looks cool. Now, to be fair, a character's emotions aren't always cranked up to 11. A close-up doesn't need to be a very intimate thing, but like every other camera angle, there must be a purpose to it. For example, if someone is saying something important--even if they don't realize it's important--a close-up helps emphasize that importance. But just as pulling the camera back takes in the importance of the environment, bringing the camera close prepares the viewer for the importance of emotion.

It's Not a Bad Story, You're Just Not Emo Enough!

I've recently been playing through Final Fantasy VIII, which I thoroughly enjoyed when I was in high school. Now...not so much.

For those of you unfamiliar with the game, it's a long, long story, but for the purpose of this post, I'll just say that it's about angsty teens dealing with seemingly giant problems. My point is that back when I was 18, the game had a lot more pull for me. This has a lot to do with the fact that I myself was an angsty teen at the time.

This is about the general concept of target audiences. A target audience is any demographic that a form of entertainment is designed to appeal to. At first, one might think that an artist should try to make their work appeal to everyone, or at least as many people as possible. But this is impossible. I don't care how great your story is, but a 3 year old boy, a middle-aged housewife, a tween girl, and me, a twenty-something guy, cannot be interested in the same material. Peoples' brains are just too different.

But once those differences are distinguished, people become so similar within their sub-categories that it's downright creepy. Guys between the ages of 18-35 will watch anything with cleavage, explosions, and/or stupid humor. Tween girls will latch onto metro-style boy toys that can dance. Toddlers won't watch something unless it is simplified down to its most basic form, and appeals to their incredibly basic understanding of color, number, shape, morality, etc. The list goes on, and most entertainment companies have the human race figured out on a psychological and sociological level. Even if you think you have different tastes than these general categories, you simply fall into a sub-category with many other people. All humans seek entertainment, and that is something that somebody can make a profit off of.

How, then, can an artist use this to their advantage? First, the artist must ask themselves 'what is my target audience?' Probably the easiest one to aim at is the one you yourself fall into. If you like it, odds are, people similar to you will like it. But you have to determine what it is about your work that people would like. Look at other stories that have the same audience: what are their focuses? What do they downplay, or completely skip on? Different audiences have different attention spans: how do you need to adjust your work to compensate for this? If you're aiming at a target audience that you are not really a part of, that's fine, but do your homework. At the risk of betraying my own demographic, I have to admit that I really don't like zombie movies. But if I was commissioned to make a zombie comic, book, or film, my first step would be to find out which zombie movies/comics/books are the favorites and get a hold of those ASAP.

I'm almost done with Final Fantasy VIII. I can see some qualities in the story that still appeal to me, but I've outgrown it. But that's okay, because the world is never in short supply of angsty teens...no matter how much I may wish it.

Silhouettes: Part 2, You will Know Us by our Shadows

This second aspect of the silhouette is in regards to character design. If I did my job correctly, you should instantly recognize these three people. The reason that you can is because there are characteristics about their structure and design that separate them from practically all other people you've ever seen. When I put it like that, it sounds impressive, right?

A character should be designed with this issue in mind. Overall shape and silhouette are important for the characters body, but it's doubly important for their head. This is because when the camera pulls in closely to the character (like when they are talking or expressing) they still remain instantly recognizable on some level--at the very least, distinguishable from the other characters. Thus, hairstyles and head gear become great assets to an artist.

But if the characters aren't going to be completely shadowed 100% of the time, why is this important? Excellent question, I'm glad you asked. Like I said earlier in this blog, the mind recognizes people by abstraction and generalization. What if the entire Looney Tunes cast was all rabbits? Do you think Bugs would stand out as much as he does from the rest of the cast? (remember, there are always exceptions to 'rules' in art: in the cartoon show "Tiny Toon Adventures" there were the two lead characters Buster Bunny and Babs Bunny. Two lead characters with nearly identical silhouettes. The writers knew that Buster needed a female counterpart/love interest, and that could only be accomplished with another rabbit, and Bugs Bunny--from the show's parent program--already established what rabbits looked like in this show. Thus, some tweaks were made to make Babs visually different on some level, but their contrast is largely in their personalities)

Characters with silhouettes instantly recognizable on a national or global scale are few and far between. And not every popular character has a perfect silhouette. What's most important is that the character is unique in their own cast.

The Two-Shot

The two-shot is any type of camera angle which hold two characters in it. With this broad definition, it's used a lot in film and comics. Fortunately, there's lots of ways to do it, all of which are explained in the book "The 5 C's of Cinematography."

For this example, I drew a normally risky two-shot, where each character is evenly placed in the panel, for the most part in a profile shot. The reason it's a risky camera angle is because when a person is perfectly profile, or facing directly, to the camera, the image is flattened and less interesting, i.e: more depth makes an image 'pop out.' There's also no background to the image, which doesn't help, but in the final version, there will be a word-balloon from the character on the right, placed in the top-center. The reason I went ahead with this angle, though, is because placing two characters profile to the camera maximizes the distance between them, which in this part of the story is important. If I wanted them to be compositionally closer together, then I might have put the camera closer to one of them as opposed to the other.

To make the shot more interesting, I looked at "The 5 C's of Cinematography" and what it had to say about two-shots. In most two-shots, you'll have one character dominating the image over another. This is done with lighting (being well-lit or shadowed), position (being higher or lower than the other character) or by "playing to the camera," (facing more toward the camera, or away from it). Since I wanted them to be eye-to-eye with each other, I couldn't make one higher than the other. The light is coming from the left of the panel, lighting the character on the right and putting the other in shadow. The character on the right is turned a little toward the camera, and the other is turned away. Lastly, the speaker is gesturing toward the other character. This not only creates an interesting shape of his silhouette, but also draws attention to the speaker.

Mother Knows Best

I recently watched the film "Saboteur," and it had one of Hitchcock's favorite archetype characters: the dominating mother. Probably my favorite example of it is actually in the film "Notorious."

The dominating mother is not frequently used in stories, but it has incredibly powerful irony. First off, the mother image is usually one of love and life. A good mother is selfless in her care for her children, whom she literally gave life to. There are many cultures and mythologies which have some religious significance attached to the mother figure--often times connected with the creation of the world and/or the human race. This, combined with social etiquette, often gives mothers a sense of reverence and respect ("you don't talk that way to your mother!"). Mothers are often paired with images of life, plenty, and abundance because they are birth-givers. A good mother wants what is best for her children, but allows her children the freedom to choose their own path.

But these dominating mothers twist every aspect of these classical characteristics. These characters are entirely selfish, and grant false love and care only when they benefit from it. They gave life to their children--or high standing to their underlings--but her children are forever indebted to her for granting them this 'favor.' She is above everything, and rules over everyone with an iron scepter. She has wealth and abundance, but it is not because she gave birth, rather, she took the things she has. One of her greatest abilities is her knack for manipulation; she will twist her underlings into doing what she wants, because they think they want it too.

My favorite part about this character, is another level of irony. She remains in power mainly because she commands respect and obedience, which would be due to her if she were a good mother. Because of her position, she guilts her children into treating her like a birth-giving, selfless, loving mother. Everyone beneath her knows she's manipulative and selfish, but they won't dare question her because since she 'gave' them life or high standing, she can take it away. Though this mother is so obviously twisted, people treat her with love solely on the basis of the fact that she is technically a mother.

It's a shame that films, comics, tv, etc. don't use this interesting character type more often. In stories where it might be possible, for one reason or another, the character is much more commonly the mafia godfather character. You can always tell a lot about a person by how they treat their mother (guys especially). This is because when a person is around their mother, they are more prone to reverting back to their childlike/childish ways: ergo, their more natural state. Fathers have this same power, but it's much more obvious with mothers, probably rooting back to their birth-giving nature. Even good mothers have an incredible power over their children: no person of any standing doesn't cringe a little when their mother shouts at them, using their full name.

Baby's got Back

You ever notice Iron Man's back? In the movies, the design of his armor gives his lower spine this vaguely inhuman curvature which is really slick. I couldn't find the perfect picture of this, but if you've seen the Iron Man movies a few times, you probably know what I'm talking about. Emphasizing this muscle development is not exactly common, mostly because characters are usually turned toward the viewer. It's also not common with male characters, because emphasizing an s-curve shape is much more typical with female characters (I'll probably get into that in another post). I think the reason it's done, though, is because 1) superhero type male characters are typically barrel-chested, and these muscles (the Latissimus Dorsi, according to my anatomy chart) are very important for that and 2) it gives the character a nice butt, which--let's be honest--makes viewers look.

My drawing was of the popular Green Lantern character Hal Jordan. He's turning to the side, but while I was drawing the picture, I thought of this.

Just CHEW the Scenery!

One of the traits that cartoons are known for is the exaggerated expressions. Daffy here is running in terror, obviously. Now, aside from the fact that ducks don't really run, or have hands, the main anatomical feature that is exaggerated is his mouth. No mouth--human or duck--can stretch that much. But that's one of the great things about cartoons: you can stretch and bend anatomy to heighten emotion.

This might seem restricted to the abstracted world of Looney Tunes or Disney. But the same principles can be applied to much more realistic styles of drawing. Though not to the extent of cartoon characters, realistic anatomy can be stretched or squashed to a minimal degree to communicate an idea. I've been applying this in my drawings recently, specifically with some Street Fighter sketch cards I've been working on. Here, Blanka's and Balrog's mouths are both open a little wider than the actual human mouth can stretch, and I pulled the lips at the corners a little further (theoretically adding muscles to the facial anatomy; I personally have some pretty flexible lips, and even I can't pull my mouth exactly like this). If you don't believe me, take a look at the reference photos I was using. Under close examination, you'll see what I'm talking about.

The purpose of this was to show some real rage in both characters. Bearing teeth is a worldwide human gesture to show anger: the more teeth you show, the angrier you can look.

The Best Offense is a Good...Weight Distribution

I had just drawn a pin-up of Green Lantern, and wanted to do another. So I went back to a sketchbook page with lots of different pose ideas roughed out and saw this one. I sketched it out at 6"x9", and scanned it in. Once I started pencilling it out on its full size, I started to feel like the image didn't have enough energy or power to it.

My first thought was that it was a matter of line work, and that it might be solved as I draw it out. But just in case, I set up my camera and struck the pose with some energy behind it (quick movements and flexing muscles--how the character would theoretically be moving).

At first, the result frustrated me. When taking the picture, I put my weight on the wrong foot and the pose was completely inaccurate. Then I realized that my photo was better than my drawing.

The original pose is actually not a bad or incorrect pose. The problem was with the fact that I was trying to communicate energy and power, and that pose wasn't doing it. It's because the weight was distributed on the back leg, rather than the front one. The layman might not think that an important issue, but ask any dancer, athlete, or fighter, and they will tell you that distributing weight on one foot versus the other changes a lot. One of the main things that weight distribution effects is direction. You can't move in any direction without putting your weight towards that direction. In this case, Green Lantern is blasting an energy bolt out of his power ring. I want him to look like he's making a powerful attack. With his weight pushed back, he looks like he's defending or retreating, whereas with it pushed forward, he's really moving forward. This pose is essentially a punch. An energy blast from the hand will have more power behind it if the body is a part of that blast.

I'm on a BOAT!

Backgrounds are often treated as just that: backgrounds. Simply the background against which the story is taking place. Oftentimes, comic creators are tempted to go with very average locales: an office building, a house, a park, etc. Sometimes, the story calls for it, and it works for the way the plot progresses.

But I think that a lot of potential is missed here. One unique quality in many comics outside the US is the attention to environments. Many times, the camera is pulled out a bit more to reveal where the characters are, and the locales are far more unique and interesting. This is often the result of treating environments as characters themselves. I used to think that paying too much attention to backgrounds would distract the reader from the characters, but then I read Osamu Tezuka's "Buddha," and then I changed my mind.

My drawing here is an unfinished panel (what's left is mostly just shading in various areas). It's the first panel of the scene, and I used the down-shot not to create isolation but to display where exactly the characters were. Since I lived most of my life land-locked, I didn't know anything about boats. So the research was enormous, because I knew I needed some very specific details about this scene. Not only did I look at pictures of docks and boats, but also the way other artists did similar scenes (Leonard Starr and Al Williamson, particularly).

Gee, she's really...um, fat. REALLY?

This was my first time of actually trying to figure out how fat is distributed across the body. Once upon a time, I thought if I just added a gut onto a character, they'd become believably fat. Sadly, this is not the case...for anyone.

Fat is distributed pretty much all across the body. In this chart, the male remains the same height and head size, but they grow wider all over. It would look odd if the person had a large belly, but well toned arms. What's most especially important is that the legs remain proportionate enough to hold up the body (when a morbidly obese person becomes tired due to walking and running though, they will feel it in the legs, but this is also due to the metabolism and energy level; the legs--though fat is weaker than muscle--are still proportionally sound). You might have heard of the term "big-boned." Everyone knows this is just a joke, but while drawing this diagram, I found it interesting that the skeletal structure is basically the same as the body grows.

One thing I want to also point out is something I noticed a few years ago in art school. While the idealized human body is a beautiful thing, there is also a sense of beauty I can't help but love in the way the human body adds fat. When fat grows on a body, the body has large gentle curves as opposed to the various bends and knobs that muscles accentuate. With more weight, rolls start to form, which form incredibly beautiful lines across the torso that would never be seen on a lean figure. Artists have focussed for millennia on the idealized human figure (which changes from time to time), but perhaps one of the most under-appreciated forms of beauty is the obese figure.

Idealized

Many people complain that comics, movies, tv, etc. all present unrealistic images of men and women. This is very often true, and I'd never disagree with this idea. This concept of using idealized people in stories and art is not new, though; it dates back well into the ancient times (warriors aren't typically as awesome as Achilles, women aren't as beautiful as Cleopatra, no one is as wise as Solomon, and so on). So, if people have been frustrated with unrealistic people in their stories, why do storytellers keep using them?

First off, when going to a movie, who would you rather look at for two hours: a fat, ugly, woman, or a super-model? Purely on a surface level, that answer is obvious. Think of that issue from a director's standpoint, though. The director knows that at any point in their movie, you can walk out and demand your money back. Therefore, it is the director's job to keep the film visually interesting. Nothing is more visually interesting than a beautiful woman. NOTHING.

This is why movies with bad plots will have beautiful women showcased in them (regardless of acting abilities). Either the director knows that the story is stupid, and must distract you from that with muscles and cleavage, or the director doesn't know that and is therefore not skilled at their craft enough to know that a story must have more to it than beautiful people. Either way, you get the same result of a bad movie with hot men and women.

Heroes and heroines most often need to visually stand out from the crowd. This is why in romantic comedies, the two leads are good looking, and the "best friend" roles are cliches in that they don't look as good.

Stories can most definitely have the average everyman, an overweight nerdy girl, or a frail old man as the lead. It's all dependent on the story itself. In character design, the ideal figure is often approached as if it's the basic template of a human. The ideal is the starting point, and afterward the artist adds or subtracts weight (in muscle or body fat), height, physical details (hair, clothing style, tattoos/piercings, etc.) and facial composition.

You're so Vein

No, this isn't a self-portrait. I know you were thinking it was. This was actually a result of doing some research for a new project. I'd been looking up reference on bulging muscles, and noticed the little detail of the revealed veins.

I have no idea why the body does this. I'm sure there's a very interesting explanation that my friends in medical school could give me, but what's important is that when the human body works out way more than I do, veins start popping up. It's a little detail, and it'd be easy to just leave it at that.

But there are a few things to keep in mind when bulking up a character. I've heard many times from many girls that a guy that is the ultra-buff, body-builder type is not really that attractive. Especially once you start getting into the body-building competition musculature: it's almost gross. Physical, sexual attraction is more related to the lean, toned muscle definition, rather than the hulking lump of testosterone. I think this type of muscular proportion hits on the more primitive, barbaric, archetype than the heroic, attractive one. Conan the Barbarian, Joe Kubert's Tor, Samson, The Incredible Hulk, Hercules, Thor, etc. are all examples of that pure, unbridled, raw power within the human psyche that simply has the desire to hit things. This type of character is different from the archetype exhibited in Captain America, Achilles, King Arthur, Luke Skywalker, etc., who are if nothing else, a bit more well-rounded characters.

What does this have to do with veins? I think that a good way to help reinforce a character's physical strength is to have the muscles start to show some veins around them. But be aware that this might trigger an idea in the audience's mind that makes them think of that barbaric, violent, potentially physically un-attractive, character type. This could be fore good or ill, depending on the context.

Are the Dutch Known for Being Crazy?

So, this is my first apology for not posting at all last week. One of my goals is to have this problem on a rare-to-never basis.

What I can talk about is a camera angle trick I learned a few years ago in a class on the fundamentals of making comics. It's called the "Dutch Angle." I have no idea why it's called that; I'm sure there's some pretty basic research I could do on the subject, but I'm content to think that the true story is lost to the ravages of time. A Dutch angle is tilting the camera pretty drastically so that everything seems off-kilter. This can provide various effects, depending on the context of the scene.

1) If things are getting suspenseful and/or confusing, a tilted viewpoint can make the viewer feel off-balance or lost. Or if the character is drunk or wavering in and out of consciousness, it can help the viewer share the feeling of topsy-turvy. One example might be Orson Welles' 'The Third Man'

2) If a character is warped or maniacal, capturing them in a tilted view could contribute to their off-kilter worldview. Probably the most famous example of this is the 60s TV show "Batman" which had its villains commonly filmed at canted angles, since most of Batman's rogues are insane.

3) Diagonals will always be more 'action-y' than vertical or horizontal lines. Viewing an action scene with a Dutch angle can contribute to its dynamism. For this example, I'm using the drawing I'm working on right now, with Han Solo and Princess Leia shooting their blasters on the ramp of the Millenium Falcon.

What's important to note is that an artist should never rely solely on the Dutch angle to make an image interesting. The characters, scenery, and context of the scene itself should be interesting in and of itself, and communicate the mood that the artist wants. The Dutch angle should merely heighten that said mood.

Fun with Shapes

Any image can be simplified down to basic lines and shapes. The way these shapes work together often makes or breaks an image's quality. There are tons of books written on this very subject, and many fine artists of the 20th century experimented with how much reduction one could do to an image before the shapes became unrecognizable of what they represented. Suffice to say for this entry, though, that an artist must always at some point assess the composition in regards to basic shapes.

Unfortunately, I did this a little late in the process of making this cover for my upcoming comic. I made the rough sketch of the cover, scanned it, printed it off, and started drawing. It was then that I realized that the image wasn't interesting at all. I sketched it a few more times in my sketchbook, liked what I was getting, drew it, and repeated this process again because I like to second-guess myself. The story has a happy ending, though, because the cover was eventually finished.

The initial problem I had with the cover was that the bodies seemed stiff. If you remember what I said about lines of action a while back, you'll see it too. Both characters' backs were straight, and since the whole composition centers on them, the image suffers. Giving the characters more curve to their poses forced the rest of the image to follow suit. The curved lines and shapes were far more interesting than the blocky composition. Don't get me wrong, there's definitely a time and place for forceful, straight, direct lines and shapes: they can also provide energy and force to an image. I'm pretty sure that this cover wasn't that time or place, though.

I took these sketches through photoshop to block out what I'm talking about, so you might get a better idea of what was going through my head when I was drawing these designs. It was a quick digital overlay, but you get the idea.

People-watching

"People-watching" is something that most people like to do. When you're bored, waiting in line, sitting in the mall, or in my case, waiting at the bus stop for a bus that never comes, it's easy to start paying attention to the trivial mannerisms, conversations, and randomness of humanity. To put it in perspective, at some point in your life, someone has done this to you.

For an artist, humanity is like a buffet. Character and story ideas are absolutely littering the streets. A good artist makes a habit of people-watching because they know that there is much to be learned from the way a person behaves naturally--when they don't think someone is watching. This isn't just good for story and character ideas, but also simple and subtle things people do when they walk, sit, talk, etc.

It was a little chilly when I was sketching these passers-by, and now that I look at this sketch, I can only hope that you can see the details I was trying to capture. The two that I learned the most from were the first and third (beginning on the left) figures. The first girl I saw pass by was crossing her arms in an attempt to stay warm; I wonder if that's connected to the fact that she was wearing a skirt! The third person was actually in a group, and as he passed by, I realized that I've seen tons of guys walk just like this: chest out, chin up, hands in the pockets, back straight. It's kind of a "I-spend-my-weekend-nights-at-the-club" way of walking, if you ask me.

When creating characters, capturing details like these are massively important for creating believability. Think of the people you know best. You can instantly think of how they walk, sit, explain, listen, etc. What's more important is this: think of the people you love and care about. Isn't it the little details about their personality that many times you love and hate the most? It's those seemingly unimportant details that define characters.

Express Your Feelings!

The human face has something around fifty muscles in it. Most of these muscles in some way contribute to the way people communicate with each other. I'm not talking about speaking, though (though it is a big part of communication). I'm talking about facial expressions. Scott McCloud has a very nice chapter on the subject in his book "Making Comics." I could seriously talk for hours about this, but since I can't talk about everything, I'll cover the main stuff.

Facial expressions communicate about a thousand times more to the audience than most words can. It's one thing to say how you feel, but it's another to look it (It just makes me angry when people say how they feel). What's more, is that a person can be feeling one way, and say something that is an attempt to hide or disregard their feelings. The point is this: I can say I'm happy, but you're more likely to believe it if I'm smiling, laughing, hugging everyone I meet, or dancing in the street. Comics don't have the luxury of sound, so everything must be communicated visually. With that, some artists have taken a creative license to exaggerate emotions, or use symbology (a lightbulb above the head, smoke blowing out of ears, etc). But an artist has to remember that there is also subtle expressions. I'm at one level of happiness if I find a five dollar bill on the street, but I'm at another if a girl agrees to go out on a date with me.

Facial expressions (and therefore body language), are one of the most important things for an artist to study. Look at your friends and family and note the way they express themselves. Do people display annoyance differently? Who smiles with their teeth and who doesn't? Are some people more reserved in their emotions, and are others the type that wear their emotions on their sleeve? How does that connect to their age, profession, or the context of the scene?

Man in Motion

I came across this Dennis the Menace strip today, and was happy to find that it was very similar to a sketch I did just the other night. Though usually suited for the process of animation, it's important for any artist to have a solid understanding of how a motion is executed, step by step. In my case, I was trying to draw the final dip in a waltz, but I couldn't figure out how exactly the dancers got into that position. So, I backed up the video and drew them as they got there. Preston Blair, in his book Cartoon Animation, goes into great detail about the stages in lots of different motions (walking, running, sneaking, jumping, etc.).

For comics, a study like this can give characters' movements much more credibility, even if they are just static images. As I've said before, there is a strong difference between someone posing as if they are running, and a still image of someone running.

The Ways We Sit

There are a surprising number of things that go into how a person sits down. I'm not talking about the muscle movement--that's a whole other post. What I'm talking about is the fact that hardly anyone sits with their back straight, eyes forward, hands folded in their lap, feet facing forward, with a pleasant expression on their face. I say "hardly" because I just drew someone who did exactly that, which brought this detail to my attention.

If a person is relaxed, they will sit differently than a person who is laughing. When a person is listening, their head might be forward a little. Lots of people talk with their hands, so if they are explaining something, that could have an effect. Lots of people slouch or shove their shoulders forward. Guys cross their legs one way, and girls cross them another. I've even heard that people will sometimes cross their legs towards the person they are attracted to, but I'm not sure how true that is. The point is this: all the different attitudes, personalities, emotions, physical dispositions, and tones of a scene determine how a person sits. I raided my photo reference library for a few examples of this: natural and posed.