Studying the Study in My Study

Inspired by Albrecht Dürer

Cruising my favorite local kraphaus (which calls itself an antique store but is really an overpriced flea market), I found this gem. It’s a copy—on wood—of a study of the head of an old man painted by the incredibly prolific and celebrated sixteenth-century Northern Renaissance woodcut carver and painter, Albrecht Dürer. The tag on the back said: “By Albrecht Dürer. German painter.” Bit of an oversell and an undersell at the same time. But I bought this flea market gold.

Because Albrecht Dürer was the guy who jolted me out of my adolescent doodlings—on hands, arms, legs, blue jeans, blackboards, textbooks, desks—in chalk, ballpoint pen, and rapidograph, and made me see how line (without paint, without blocks of color) could fully capture the essence of life. I ADORED him, and pored over books of his woodcuts. When I saw this wooden copy, my heart lurched, remembering.

I propped the old man up in my studio so he can see the progress I’m making on my new book. It’s a graphic anti-cookbook for IDW/Top Shelf called Where There’s Smoke There’s Dinner. Chapter by chapter, recipe by recipe, it explores my hatred of making dinner every night and the life-threatening disasters that ensue. This project has taken a long time, principally because it’s the first time pen and ink and expressive line have not been enough to tell my story. Cookbooks have to be in color.

So I’m doing the art in two layers, the first drawn with my trusty rapidograph, the second hand-colored with watercolor pencil and watercolor paint, the layers scanned separately and merged in Photoshop. Hence, the endless folders of artwork.

Good old Albrecht—or, one of HIS guys—is just the guy to watch over this transition in my art. Dürer made a similar transition himself, moving from incredibly detailed woodcuts to painting, which I’m assuming was more lucrative (I don’t remember much anymore about his life.)

Line and movement still mean the world to me, but this book is teaching me how the punch of sizzling colors or soft colored pencil textures can add so much life to the page.

How tossed-off brushstrokes and watery fades can add more delicious proof of the human hand. In all the art I make and look at, I am always looking for signs of the human touch.

Dürer would approve. He captured human life better than almost any artist I can think of. He inspired me to spend my life trying to capture it as best I can.