Perfecting Imperfection
“Oh, you’re an art major?” This question makes me panic. After the fleeting moment of pride in doing what I love, that windpipe-crushing anxiety sets in. In about two seconds, one of two things will usually happen: 1) the person will follow up with a condescending “that’s fun,” and I’ll have to attempt to legitimize my career choice, or 2) I will be pressured to draw a dragon on the spot. If I cannot produce a fire-breathing beastie upon command, I risk losing many respect points. The person will give up on me and later tell someone, “oh, yea, she’s an art major now.”
It is this panic-stricken conversation that drives many young art/illustration students—and hobbyists—into a manic pursuit of photo-realistic drawing skills. We think that in order to be respected by our peers, by our professors, by the “non-creatives,” we need to be able to produce a carbon copy of a pineapple. While skills like this are incredibly useful in any art practice, young and budding creatives often lose so much in attempting to chase down realism. When we could be developing our creative process, our imaginations, our risk-taking, we are instead painstakingly copying strands of hair.
But you know what? Photo-realism for the most part is really boring. We all know that person who can draw celebrities in stunning likeness. Their drawings are amazing at first, but it gets old really fast. If your work looks like something out of a Lee Hammond how-to-draw book, you should be very worried. Your best hope is to get a job in caricature, because very likely, your art lacks personality, voice. And in an increasingly technological world, people respond to a sense of humanity, not automaton-like reproduction. It is for this reason that I ask us all to stop screwing around with perfectionism and start experimenting with what we can tell the world in our own unique way.
Out of kindness, I won’t call out anyone working from a yawn-evoking style, but I do want to present a few illustrators who are incredibly successful in working from an imperfect style.
Our first Imperfectionist is Gemma Correll:
I would classify her work as little more than doodles, but Gemma is keeping busy, and I’m following her across several social media sites. Why? She’s funny, there’s a big market for “cute,” and her drawings really capture her subjects. It’s weird to see a picture of a person after you’ve seen one of her “doodles” of them; you realize how closely she examined their behaviors or physical attributes.
I can’t wait to see new work from David Fullarton (above). His handwriting is downright messy, but his images are so visceral, often scathing, so full of texture that they seem tactile. It looks like he just dumps his office supply drawer on his desk and goes to town.
Mike Perry’s work will look familiar to anyone following illustration. Mike has been crazy-big in the illo world for the past few years; he is one of the most-imitated illustrators out there right now. He has doodled on an EAMES chair for goodness sake. This guy is making bank off of his doodle-esque style because he loves it. He invests passion, and he has certainly benefited from being sincere (and kind, and humble; rarer than you’d think in creative fields).
So, what’s the difference between quirky and just messy?
There’s no formula, obviously. Quirky seems to happen when the illustrator/artist has a strong point of view. When they have a profound sense of self, that gift of capturing the “essence” of a subject, or the ability to truly make you laugh, that’s a successful Imperfectionist. It helps to know the rules too, in order to break them beautifully. Sloppy work happens when we borrow song lyrics and second-guess our composition. Don’t do that. Get your own ideas.
A challenge:
If you are passionate about art, and would love to design/illustrate/make personal art for a living, keep practicing. Keep honing your craft. But above all, work from a place that is honest, that is unique to who you are. People gravitate to sincerity. It serves the artist, the client, the viewer best when a touch of humanity is held in highest regard. Don’t let anyone sass you because you don’t draw exactly the way Joe Muscle-Cars does. Take a deep breath, return to your brushes or pens, and feel sorry for all the self-loathing haters.
All images used under the principles of Fair Use. Artists, please let me know if you wish to have your work removed.