Notes Taken in the Picture Making Class of Harvey Dunn (I)

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Written from Memory 

by Charles J. Andres

Editor’s foreword: These notes were taken down from memory in the years 1938-1941 by Charles J. Andres on the 12:40 am-2am train ride home from the Grand Central School of Art in New York to the artist’s home in Hastings-On-Hudson, NY. When Andres presented these notes to Dunn for confirmation, he said: “It doesn’t make any difference whether or not this is what I said. It is what you got from the class.”  The notes were published privately in a limited edition for friends and fellow artists. Another collection of Dunn's teaching, An Evening in the Classroom, made with Dunn's supervision, is a different set of notes. This serves as a companion to that volume.

The images in this section are all taken from Andres' student sketchbooks and represent a key part of Dunn's teaching: the thumbnail sketch. Both Dunn and his teacher, Howard Pyle, were firm believers in small gestural compositional sketches made approximately 2x3" called "thumbnails" which they felt contained the essence of the pictorial concept of that painting to be. The thumbnail was the abstract map of the painting and would be transferred carefully in charcoal to the canvas with no intermediate studies. 

When Dunn speaks of significant values he is referring to a concept both he and Pyle taught-- that a composition can be unified by large areas of dark, light and mid-tone: the three value structure, where a dark in the light and a light in the shadow share the same mid-tone. The thumbnails here often reflect this three value structure, a standard concept in design, but here understood not as merely a formal principle, but rather the essence of the painting's emotional, pictorial drive.  

Some thumbnails are for paintings that still exist and some for paintings that were painted over or abandoned; some thumbnails are from works by other Dunn students (Cornwell, Von Schmidt) or artists Andres admired (Sorolla) and these are also included.  Given that so much of Dunn's teaching centered around the pictorial concept, and the idea that it represents the key to unlock each painting as well as each student's potential, only Andres' thumbnails are included here. They have been taken from various sketchbooks from Andres' time with Dunn, where they are found alongside these class notes, both drawn or jotted down on that train in the wee hours of the morning.

Art is the music to which the common facts of life are played. 

It is only natural when we see a swell picture to become interested in finding out how it was done. That is fine and beneficial and we’ve got to do it. But in our search for how it was painted we are apt to become so concerned that we lose sight of the reason why it was painted. Do not lose sight of the fact and purpose for which we are making pictures. Keep the original purpose and your first impression of the picture with you to the very end of your work.

I assume that you all feel an artistic need for painting a picture. We should, and probably all do, feel that we have something to say. The English language—either prose, poetry—and music, sculpture, or any other vehicle for expression—is not strong enough or adequate for us to express that which we feel. No other medium is sufficiently expressive, therefore we are concerned with the making of pictures to put over our ideas.

We very often hear of a man who is in pursuit of an idea. He is always pursuing it—he will probably never get anywhere. Be rather the man whom ideas pursue. Consider your picture completely before you start it.

I wonder how many of you are going about his nude with a kind of prayerful earnestness—seeking only to make some expression of the loveliness—for it certainly is a lovely thing. As I look around the class I see so many of you concerned with light effects, drawing and anatomy. Do not let us forget that once we wanted to be artists. 

Remember that no man living or dead did it exactly right—so step up and tear into it with all the courage in the world. Do what you want to do. That is the important thing. That is why you are making pictures—simply because you’d rather be doing that than any other thing in the world. You take your pictures seriously. Well, in painting them try to put something in a serious picture that can get a laugh. If you can keep something humorous in them your good humor will do more than anything else to keep you going.

Your pictures have to be sound. You know while good pictures are pictures because of whimsy and some artistic expression of mood etc., which cannot be defined in words line, or values, they also cannot go contrary to natural phenomena. For instance in your picture you have the horizon wrong and the river running uphill. That detracts from the picture by making it less comprehensible. They have to be understandable.

There are only a few good artists at the top, you know. So maybe the few we have here tonight will be the chosen few. You have three nights to paint this young lady. If you don’t make anything of particular significance you may say—oh well, there are many more evenings so I’ll do it next time—and you lay the foundation for wasting many of your evenings.

While there are only a few really good men, there are ten thousand people in the United States who can draw and paint to beat the band. You have never heard of them and you never will. They have thoroughly mastered their craft and that is all they have- their craft. You have to know your craft very well to make a picture. Merely knowing your craft will never be enough to make a picture. You have to go back to what you are, what you know, what you believe. You have to be true to the inspiration or whatever it was that drove you to art school. If you ever amount to anything at all, it will be because you were true to that deep desire or ideal which made you seek artistic expression in pictures.

You must have something to say and it should be so vital and so important that the only way to say it is with the value relationship which is meaningful—one which is exactly what is required for this particular thing you are saying. I have to feel for my values. Like tuning a violin you tune to an established key then up and down until you tune it to just the right value. 

I was once asked to look at a man’s work. He showed me dozens and dozens of canvases. I said nothing until he finally said, “Well, aren’t you going to say something about them? Say something.” So I said, “I can see that they are excellent but I feel they are dreadful.”

When you do something good, thank God and leave it alone. Didn’t Whistler say that? These artists-for-art-sake sometimes discover things we commercial guys can use.

A friend of mine was out sketching—doing a watercolor in the country and after working awhile he saw he had an audience of one. A farmer was watching him work. He went right on working, feeling pretty good at having a local yokel so impressed. He eventually stepped back and said, “Well, what do you think of it?” The farmer drawled, “Wall, I always thought the foreground should be definitely in the foreground. The middle distance should be between the foreground and the distance.” The farmer turned out to be George Innes.

When I was painting a picture in Howard Pyle’s class I had a certain hunch that it should be done in umbers and greens. Pyle came in and said, “No, no, that’s not the way to do it.” Then he proceeded to paint it with lavenders and all colors. After class, although it seemed sacrilegious at the time, I scraped it out and painted it the way I originally intended. When Pyle came in, he said, “Ah—you are motivated by an idea.” He approved as long as I had an idea. 

Paint flat, significant values. In starting get the right tone on the flesh of the girl’s head then the dark of her hair and the background. Paint it flat but be conscious all the time of your brush flowing over flesh. Consider the edges and textures right away along with the drawing of form and significant values. When you paint it and it doesn’t look like an arm it is because the value is not significant. When it feels like an arm, it is an arm. The girl in your picture lacks gesture. The posture must be right but she must have a certain gesture—something characteristic of her being, more the spirit of her. 

You know some of the fellows up at Leonia [New Jersey, where Dunn had his first school] used to want to paint a landscape. I’d say, ”OK, but paint it in here in the studio. When you get stuck on a tree go out and make a study of a tree. When you come back in draw it just enough—any more is useless, any less is no damn good at all.” You know these fellows who go out painting landscapes all summer can’t tell you what kind of tree they have in their pictures.

You should consider your pictures like the girl you’re in love with. You know when a fellow is in love he is really in earnest while it lasts. Strive to make something monumental in your pictures. Do something really worth doing. 

We talk a lot about the use of photographs and did you ever think of why they are using them? When all the manufacturers were making big money in boom-times they put their advertising into the hands of agencies and all they cared about was how big their names were plastered in the public’s eye. The agencies got some second-rate European art and stuck that in. The people who were manufacturing the tires, soaps, etc., didn’t know what it was all about but thought the agencies knew their stuff. Then about nine years ago when they had the big crash and things weren’t selling so well, they wanted to get their product before the public by having actual photos of the product. Now they are beginning to realize that no matter how much they retouch it with an airbrush they will have a commonplace photograph that looks pretty much like all the other photos of the same product. They saw that a representation of the product was not a selling quality. People weren’t buying tires only because of the number of years they would wear out but also to broaden their horizons. It gave them freedom to anywhere their car would take them. There was a time when a man was content to live and die in his own country but not since the automobile. Now the agencies are beginning to understand that the way to sell their stuff is to give it drama and glamour. The romantic appeal of the tires is what sells them.

Be a sound, honest workman and tell the truth. During the Depression and during the time when fashion plate illustration spread out all over the pages trying to be so tricky and different that the result was they all looked alike, the sound man had more work than they could handle. They never had to worry. I feel the day is coming and it is coming soon when they’ll want good, sound pictures—full of truth, and when they do, they are going to want them fast.

You know we think of art as a flimsy thing. But do you realize the only thing left from ancient times is the art. All else is destroyed. We think of our gigantic bridges, buildings and monuments. When they have all crumbled some of today’s pictures will still be in existence. The ancient Greek statues that are armless and nameless are just as beautiful today as they were the day the unknown sculptor laid down his hammer and chisel and said, “Oh Hell—I can’t do it.”

How many of you ever heard of Howard Pyle? He was one of the truly great. Imagination is just about the most perfect thing there is. The way we can visualize a picture in our imagination is just about as close to perfection as we’ll ever know. When we come to it, we all fall far short of our visualization. Well, Howard Pyle produced some of the finest pictures in the world. Yet I can see him standing in the dim light of the studio with a cold light striking his bald head—square jawed, wide, deep-set eyes, a keen intelligent type—putting his arms out and imploring us not to be the failure he was.

His imagination and visual conceptions went so far ahead of his executed work that although to the world he was one of the most successful of men, to himself he was a failure—and that was what eventually killed him. Yet if we look at his pictures, we will see quite a bit of how he was feeling when he painted them.

We should be master of what we have. Do it as well as you know and tomorrow you won’t be doing the same kind of work. We must sing a song in paint. Paint a picture that sings and you can put it in the attic for 20 years and when you drag it out it will still be singing.

The sketch is made solely for the purpose of crystalizing the idea in your mind. It is the map showing the direction you’re going to go.  The note is not in any way the putting down of your idea. Ideas can be expressed only once, and then you’re through. The note is just the direction. 

We must paint into our pictures something emotionally basic and common to all men. If you do that, the picture is no longer your picture. It is every man’s picture and when he sees something of his own, he wants to possess it and the picture becomes useful. 

A man of mediocre talent but who is furiously driven by deep desire will get somewhere. Many men of superb ability who never appreciated their ability and had no desire are now motormen or soda jerkers. He who doesn’t desire deeply is not hurt much when he fails.

If you are stupid your canvas will be stupid. If you’re intelligent and full of life, your canvas will be so. When a man paints a good picture it’s because he was damn good when he painted it.