This segment of the drawing is almost 3 meters long. I'm working on a set of shapes that repeat themselves down this full length. Once the loops weave together in just the right way, I'll start filling them in with detailed line work and shading (similar to what I did here).
The technical challenges with the Gojira project have been quite incredible!
I've had to prepare a new set of color tests, because the first few didn't fully address some of the technical difficulties (length of the segments, depth of the black lines, superposition,).
To get rich black lines, the drawings have to be prepared in a more traditional style. This means the black inked outlines will be scanned separately from the shading. Then the 2 scans will be superimposed in photoshop.
Having the outline on a separate layer will also allow for a possible spot varnish. I'd really like this effect, but I'm not sure yet if it's technically viable!
This segment is approximately 80 cm wide, which is another challenge: it's not easy to find a place that scan such large sheets of paper.
I'm hoping these new tests will be more conclusive!
The biggest challenges with the Gojira project have been technical issues, mainly dealing with scanning and printing the illustrations. I am planning to have 10 copies of the project printed and bound, as limited-edition artist books. The books are approx 90mm X 140mm, and contain 31 pages in an accordion-fold.
After quite a bit of searching, I was able to find a printer willing to take on this project, Les Arts Graphiques here in Nice. Megapom', a local photoengraver, will be scanning and treating the drawings. And finally, a local artist has agreed to hand-bind the books once they are printed and assembled.
We did 6 tests, in quadrichromie and in bichromie. The best process appears to be quadrichromie with a layer of Pantone process black. This makes the outlines denser. Using quadri (instead of bichromie) also helps bring out the depth of the illustrations, by capturing the fine naunces of grey in the coloring.
What makes this project complicated is that the accordion-fold is very long (about 2.7 m). The accordion-fold will have to be printed out in 4 separate pieces, which I will then fold and assemble together. So we will really have to make sure the printing is even, and that there are no strong color variations between the different segments.
The scanning process will take place in 2 steps: first, we'll scan the outlines, and then, after shading and texturing those outlines, I will have the full illustrations scanned a second time.
Then the 2 scans will be superimposed in Photoshop, which will help make the outlines very dense.
So I have quite a bit of work set out for me! I aim to have completed the outlines by the beginning of August, and begin working on the colors later during that month. Sometimes I wonder how many sets of copic liners and Tria markers I will need to finish this all!
Surprise! I decided to draw a dubstep track! hehe.
I responded to a media request from the UK Synesthesia Association, for a student who is putting together an ipad app about synesthetic experiences with electronic music. She sent me a number of very interesting tracks, and I chose to illustrate my synesthetic experience with Excision & Datsik's Deviance.
My illustration corresponds approximately to 0:26 - 0:50.
I found those heavy sounds very thick and interesting. They resonate right at the back of my jaw, at the spot where my wisdom teeth once were. I get a similar reaction from the frequencies in songs like Megadeth's Holy Wars, Down's Bury me in Smoke, Pantera's Cowboys from Hell.
On first listens, these sounds almost looked like gruyère cheese - very dense and full of air bubbles. Then I listened more closely, and could see how the sound was actually very "hairy" and layered, nuanced. The rhythmns make it very flashy and cut-apart - kind of like watching a badly animated clip.
The sound is very blue / grey (I've actually found that much electronic music has a similar color palette for me, interestingly).
So I took textured paper, layered on color pencils, scratched away the color with an opened-up paperclip, layered on color again. Then I cut the paper into strips, rubbed the edges with sandpaper and glued them onto a piece of heavy paperboard, and sandpapered everything some more.
I really enjoyed this challenge, because I don't usually listen to music like this. All I can say is, it's all about the sound!
Over the past few weeks, I've drawing the first chorus sequence in the Art of Dying. This is one of the central sequence within the song, it's quite heavily textured and absolutely mind-blowing.
Here's my original outline of the sequence:
The next step was filling in the forground and background, giving texture to the outline.
And then I began shading, using Tria markers in 12 shades of gray, to bring out the depth.
I realized that the lettering has to been done separately and then added in with Photoshop, because the letters are quite fine and really interfer with drawing the hairline textures in the loops - the letters make it difficult to draw the textures in one continuous movement.
You can hear this sequence - which I've labelled sequence #7 - from 4:16 - 4:45 in the video below.
Process has been an extremely important part of executing the Gojira / Art of Dying project. Since the project is so huge, I've tried to be a methodological as possible - asking myself, what is the best way to get the right type of results.
After working out the general structure and contour for the entire piece, I worked on finding the best techniques and materials to render the texture. This involved testing dozens of different pens, pencils, inks, markers and paper.
These trial-and-error sessions helped me determine the right materials: tria markers in 12 shades of gray, and Copic multiliner pens in about 10 different thicknesses, on Inuit Ultra paper in blanc glacier.
I initially began the project by simply drawing in the Moleskine japanese-fold album. But this ended up being a problem: the tria markers and copic liners bleed through, making it impossible to work directly on both sides of the pages.
I then began working on separate sheets, which will be scanned and printed out in the same format as the japanese fold album.
This has required a lot of tracing, and I had to adapt my working surfaces accordingly. I first was working on an Ikea table with a small lightboard... and the project quickly outgrew the table. I recently got a new table with a full glass top - which has become a huge lightboard, basically. It's a lot less cramped and I can get much smoother curves.
I'm wondering how many meters long the project will end up being... and sometimes I wonder what I've got myself into! :)
I've been working on the first color tests for the Gojira project, working with Tria markers in about a dozen shades of cool gray. They are quite easy to blend, and it's fun creating shading in the shapes and giving them texture. It feels like the drawing is starting to come to life.
The main difficulty I'm having now is finding the right way to fill in the background. I'm currently working on a series of different tests to find the right technique for this.
For the Art of Dying project, I have been continuing to develop the type shapes for the chorus sequence.
As with the verse sequences, I first worked with a generic type shapes : a medium-weight, condensed sans serif with no definitive style or character.
initial type work on the chorus sequence:
As I have mentioned previously, I realized that this project required much more specific type design to distinguish the 2 distinctive rhythmic styles used in Joseph Duplantier's vocal work in The Art of Dying.
The second of these styles is used in the chorus sequence, which you can listen to here:
The vocal work in the chorus of The Art of Dying is characterized by long notes held out over rapid drum rhythms are grounded in front of an extremely dense wall of sound. The high contrast between this slow, long melody and the extremely dense and fast musical background creates an effect of stasis. Time seems to stop and the melody just hangs in the air.
To illustrate this, I chose a bodoni-based alphabet to emphasis the thick-thin contrast. I rounded out letters like the "w" and chose to use certain lower-case letters like the "n" and the "a" to underline the drawn-out, smoothed melody. The sharp, this serifs represent the high, sharp drum beats.
The result is much denser, visually, and brings out the "propeller" effect of stasis: the music is moving so quickly that it completely slows down and you only hear the melody.
Once I begin working on coloring, the type will be in white, with the tunnel structure in shades of dark grey/black.
When I first began working on sequence and design layout of the Art of Dying project, I first worked with a generic type shapes : a medium-weight, condensed sans serif with no definitive style or character.
initial type work:
However, as I continued developing the linework, I began to realize that the project required much more specific type design.
Joe Duplantier's vocals are harsh, as a general rule. But as I listened more closely to the song, I realized there are 2 distinctive rhythmic styles used in the vocal work, which require 2 different typefaces to illustrate them.
The first of these styles is used in the verses (you can listen to the first verse in the video below). It's characterized by strongly accented beats. The drum rhythms are grounded in front of a wall of sound that is suddenly less dense - there is quite a bit of white space compared to the introduction to the song.
To illustrate this, I chose to create a condensed and thick square-edged alphabet with a system of lengthened ascenders and descenders to bring out the accented rhythms and mechanical, technical delivery (which is moreover reflected in the lyrics).
Last weekend we attended Nuit Surprenante, a concert in the Monaco Printemps des Arts series. It really was a very surprising evening: the concert featured a variety of contemporary works and ensembles, including the Ensemble Accroche Note playing Horatiu Radulescu's Inner Time II.
We were completely unprepared for the Horatiu Radulescu piece - some of the most painful "music" I have ever listened to. The piece, which lasts nearly 1 hour, features 7 clarinets playing seemingly random, atonal sequences of notes... at earsplitting pitches. Just for fun, here is an extract of the piece:
I was able to make it about half-way through... and then I just couldn't take it anymore! I had to leave - with a splitting headache!
The piece did prove to be extremely interesting in a completely contradictory way. Inner Time II was painful to listen to, but extremely beautiful as a synesthetic experience: strings of shapes and colors woven together. Sharp vertical rectangles that shimmered, literally, in a gorgeous palette of yellows, yellow-oranges, and eggshell whites, on bright white background. I wasn't surprised by the prevalence of white - it's my color for pain. Totally natural given the loud, shrill nature of the work.
I drew this rather summary figure to illustrate what the piece looked like to me (click on the image to better see the details).
This synesthetic experience intrigued me nonetheless, and upon returning home, I began researching Radulescu. And I have to say... I'm fascinated by this composer and his work!
Radulescu is often described as a spectral composer, because he often focused on the spectral technique of composition, that is, where compositional decisions are often informed by the analysis of sound spectra. This can also be described as a type of aesthetic, where music is ultimately considered as sound evolving in time. Spectral music can include any music that foregrounds timbre as an important element of structure or musical language (thanks wikipedia).
Inner Time II is meant as homage to Alexander Calder. As explained in these liner notes:
The basic material is a single registral filter, a basic shape (mobile of distinctly Calder-like appearance laid over the spectral scordatura, which in its macro form provides the overall descent-ascent, and on a smaller scale furnishes 137 mobiles - derived from the basic one by the quasi-serial processes of inversion, retrograde and retrograde inversion, as well as contraction and expansion in space (pitch) and time.
I find this analogy to Calder's mobiles to be very accurate, and immediately brings to mind the dancing multiples of rectangles I perceived. Dancing rhythmically because the notes being played either just before, just after or on the pulsations. And also "melodically," as the same liner notes explain;
The pitch structure is based on a scale of 42 pitches (spectral scordatura) which are the partials 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 and then every odd-numbered partial up to the 83rd of a low A; the emphasis on odd-number partials neatly matches the natural timbre of the clarinet, reinforcing as the composer puts it, "the sober and poetic unity of the score". The 6th partial is the bottom E on the clarinet; the 83rd lies just below the high D which marks the top of the conventional E flat clarinet range (though here, astonishingly, all the high partials are achieved on the normal B flat instrument!). Each clarinettist has a repertoire of just six steps of the scale (six frequency orbits), spread throughout the total range. However, since an enormous degree of accuracy of intonation is called for, especially in the highest register, where distinctions are notated to the nearest 64th of a tone, and then further inflected in cents (highly accurate tuning devices are used to find a basic fingering given for each note, and used again in rehearsal for verification), even the production of these six notes is a Herculean labour.
This rough overview of some of the facets of Radulescu's work really has me intrigued, and I'm looking forward to learning more, especially about his forays into graphic notation.