Dangerous Perspective
I am prepping for teaching another drawing lesson, and I find myself once again concerned with the matter of perspective. I set up the room, adjusting the light to the correct angle, arranging beautiful fabrics to appear at just eye level, and then marking the floor with tape where my students' chairs might sit.
I understand the frustration of a beginning artist attempting to draw some version of a truth that sits in front of them—the defeat they feel when they try to map the light, which continues to shift throughout the day. When I am working with a serious student, I can sense their anger building, and sometimes see their tears piling up behind their eyes. I do everything I can to protect them from shifting vantage points, which means I tape the floor, and the light pole, and their easel, but that is the best I can do… the rest is up to them.
Student Work, Graphite Drawing by Sophie P.
The real issue here is 'point of view.' To move a fraction of an inch is to alter an artist's perspective entirely. Lean a little to the left—perspective changes, sit up tall to stretch your back—it shifts again, move in closer to get a better look at something you don't understand—the story shifts once more, and you might as well start over. In my seventeen years of teaching, I often watch this somewhat amusing dance bring artists to tears, to rage, and to defeat. They leave the studio questioning themselves, and some of them never find their way back.
On occasion, I meet a stubborn few who can stand still long enough to retell their version of the truth with some accuracy. I am one of those people. But, those of us who can be still, should guard ourselves against feeling pride. Because in the end, despite our very best effort, the truth we project back to the world is only one version of it… and now that's what keeps me up at night.
Regardless of my determination to stay honest, I am still at my core a liar. Not a liar because I stage, alter, or manipulate the truth, but a liar, all the same, because I only tell one version of it. I lie by omission.
Out of this confession, grows a respect for cubism. These artists understood truth was 'in the round' and illustrated a creation which was not hindered by, or arrogant enough to hold onto, perspective.
Trusting in the certainty of perspective is a grave temptation and the damage done from defending our view of truth brings division and poses an even greater risk. 'Point of view' is only truth to a specific viewer, causing all others 'points of view' to appear to be a lie.
It would do us all good to understand our brother's truth is as 'real' as our own. To stand firm in one point, and to project our 'point of view' back to the world with loud certainty is a sin… a lie by omission, which doesn't account for where others are seated.
If truth is a form, then it is quite possibly a story we can only illustrate together.
And now, I am left wondering… “Should I still tape off the floor?”