Morgue

Life drawing
“Morgue on Green Stool”, 2026, pastel pencils and soft pastel blocks on toned gunmetal grey paper, 23″ x 17″

A fantastic first session at Leytonstone’s Creative Life Drawing with an unusual but very enjoyable setup – a series of short warm up poses, increasing in duration, followed by a 2 hour single sitting pose (allowing for breaks, of course). After a few sessions where, despite bringing a raft of different coloured papers and materials, I ended up reverting to mostly single colour on a neutral midtone, I wanted to experiment a little and take some risks. First, the short poses up to around 5 minutes, overlapping in coloured pencils – a different colour per pose:

As the time to draw increased to around 7-10 minutes, I wanted to play with some heightened, but somewhat appropriate, skin tone Faber-Castell Pitt pencils to see whether I could interpret the bright, multi-source daylight that was flooding into the spacious room’s windows:

I used a caput mortuum for line and shadow, cinnamon for the hot shadows, light flesh for the lighter areas, and rose carmine for the hotter pink areas. This was augmented with white for reflective highlights, a little vanilla Derwent pastel to try and approximate the halogen light that was also in the scene, and some cadmium red snuck into shadows to keep those interesting.

Two poses followed of around 15 minutes, which encouraged me to keep experimenting with this overall approach:

While sketching, the model was able to hold these poses so exceptionally, and they had such fascinating angles, that I would in retrospect have preferred to simplify the approach and concentrate instead on line and form only. The tones in the 2nd piece, the last before the long pose, didn’t come naturally, and felt a little fussy and piecemeal.

However, with 2 hours to work on a single pose and little at stake, I carried the approach through to the main drawing. The first thing down was a portrait – Morgue held her head at a particular angle that thought was really interesting and what emerged was something of a caricature, but one that captured something of the subject in a way that felt recognisable. The exaggerations led me to follow this through when sketching out the rest of the figure. I simplified and elongated as that was what resonated with the model’s pose and presentation – athletic and poised. The way the arms wrapped, one up across her shoulder, the other down across the thigh, presented an opportunity to exaggerate length, especially as I was seated for the session which made her look quite monumental in a way she may not had I been at a easel matching the eye level. The giant hand was not actually present, but just seemed like it would be more fun to draw.

The ambient light in the room was lovely to work in but did not offer any particularly deep shadows to hang on to, which made me quite tentative in terms of tonal range. There was a lot of pencil skimming before committing. I also didn’t really work in any cooler tones, although using pastel blocks to sketch out the large window behind her gave me a motivation for some pale blue highlights skimming the back, with a few flashes on the bar stool and the feet to tie the piece together.

Finally, there was just time to work into the stool itself, to try and introduce that darkness that may have been missing elsewhere, and a post-session decision to pull the figure out of the murk of the grey paper with a vibrant colour to contrast. I chose this kind of raspberry purple to offset the dark green, and also as a colour that would help motivate the more outré pinks in the figure. It also steered clear of the orange and yellow of her hair highlights. There was no particular plan with this in terms of shape – I didn’t want to emulate a real background, although a horizontal bar was introduced to give an impression of a floor line.

All in all, a fun experiment! I’d like to somehow incorporate more pastel blocks in the early going to shake out the tentative nature of pencil lines, or at least find a way to make those first strokes come more naturally. But this stylised exaggeration was an enjoyable break from attempts to capture accuracy.

Leo

Life drawing
“Leo’s Throne”, 2026, sanguine pastel pencil and white chalk pencil on toned grey paper, 33″ x 23″, drawn from life (approx 3 hours)

One of the great joys of being able to visit the Candid Arts Trust in Islington is their Saturday life drawing sessions – one pose held over two 2-hour sittings. Nestled in the well lit basement studio, this allows for the kind of immersive concentration that is rarely achievable at any other time or in any other location. Its location also means that, at the half-time lunch break, I can visit London’s finest Scottish café, Auld Hag, and get a square sausage, black pudding, and tattie scone well-fired breakfast roll, and conclude my day’s sketching with a pint at The Lexington after 4pm when we disperse.

I am not a fast sketcher – I enjoy the thrill and the spontaneity of a standard life drawing class, with a variety of short and medium poses designed to train the hand to simply capture what the eye sees of the pose our models are presenting to us. I love the flow, the effort, the interaction, the rush to capture the fantastic angles and details before they disappear forever. But I also feel like I don’t ever, truly, feel satisfied with work I create there. That’s not the point – it’s an exercise, a moment, a fleeting connection.

In these long pose sessions, I should be able to actually express the kind of drawing I want to make – whatever that actually looks like. To be gifted so much time and space and concentration means I should be able to finish a drawing. Yet, as much as I enjoy these sessions, all too often I have found the additional time a challenge – as in, that I feel like I have to challenge myself to prove some point that I can actually draw. Expression is not a competition, but when I see people around me managing to complete beautiful oil paintings in an afternoon while I struggle my way around basic issues with anatomy with charcoal or pencils, I feel like I am letting the opportunity get away from me.

This month, I managed to push these thoughts aside. I put on my headphones, listened to copious Neurosis albums, had a nice coffee, stepped away whenever I felt I needed to give myself perspective, and just went along with whatever I felt like doing while our model Leo sat for us. She had a fantastic, beatific smile on her face, despite what I can only imagine is a brutal lack of blood getting to her right forearm. Heads, hands, feet and faces are the most brutal things to get right in life drawing. Complicated, fiddly, possessed of all sorts of weird bits that, if depicted even fractionally in the wrong place, can look monstrous. I felt like, for once, I had avoided inflicting this on a fantastic model. I can’t help but feel very guilty when a model comes to see what we’ve got up to, and I’ve been unable to capture them accurately. Yet I’m really happy with how Leo’s face came out here.

For once, no panic to the finish line. By the last hour, I was into shading the folds of fabric of the chair, dancing around the page if anything, trying to stop myself from embellishing beyond what was needed. Whatever finished means, this drawing, at least, is that. It is whatever it needed to be.

DUEL

Posters

Created for our Rewind episode on Steven Spielberg’s debut feature (originally an ABC Movie of the Week, of course!)

This one started life as an incredibly janky composite of screenshots in Photoshop, just to see how best to organise the elements into the square frame. I pulled a stack of images and pushed a few around, eventually landing on a layout that had a dominant, but indirect, image of lead actor Dennis Weaver, with the truck looming in his rearview mirror:

Note the presence of the family photo, not visible in the theatrical edit due to the widescreen crop!

As a cover image that would be primarily used on podcast platforms, it would need to be a square format. Given that most of my design work recently is intended for Rewind episodes, that has meant that I’ve had to become comfortable with an image shape that I don’t find particularly natural or accomodating. Although, in this instance, it was useful on two counts – first, for a sense of claustrophobia that suits the film’s juxtaposition of wide-open vistas and sweaty, intimate in-car panic. And second, to mimic the boxy format that the original airing would have had, before the theatrical re-edit that opened up to widescreen.

Downsides – of course, a driver would not have a rearview mirror jammed right in front of their eyeline. And, without being able to open up the format to something wider, that meant that the truck – the main selling point of the film – would appear pretty small overall. So, I wanted to mitigate by ensuring that David Mann’s eyeline leads the viewer right to the truck. That it would sit in and break up a patch of pleasant blue sky and provide a messy, eye-catching feature among an otherwise quite simple layout.

That influenced how I drew the final piece, too. I still did not know how I would render this. Realistic? Illustrative? Painterly? A big factor, perhaps the main factor, was time. And skill. I would have trusted myself to render something more representative of real life if I had time to transfer the image to paper and render in charcoals. But I didn’t see that I would be able to do it justice in that format – it didn’t really suit the image, which I use more often for more traditional portature. I also just do not have the skill to render realistically in digital illustration. I have only a stylus that interacts with my touchscreen laptop, which is not a professional grade drawing tablet. And I don’t find digital illustration intuitive at all. I would love to be able to layer delicate brush work to build up the atmosphere, but it’s not something I know how to do.

So that left me with something more like a vintage comic book style – like Creepshow. I first laid down the ink work – using a variable width ink brush from True Grit Texture Supply Co. I laid a flat white layer down, and varied the opacity so I could see different levels of detail of the photomontage beneath for a loose trace. I intentionally used a wider brush on the car, the environment, and David – around 16-18 pixels I think – than I used on the truck, more like 8-10 pixels. The extra detail was to ensure that, if the viewer really got into looking closely, there was enough of the unique character of the truck to be interesting.

Then, again, to save time, I blocked in the colours extremely flat. I limited to around 6 colours in total, I think – all were droppered from the reference picture itself and then tweaked a little, to ensure that despite the cartoony render, it would be grounded in realistic colour tones. One flat tone for the sandy landscape, one for David’s main skin tone, one for the grass, a dark maroon for the car interior, and a specific tone for the truck. I think also the dashboard is a slightly different beige. Can’t remember. You can see below, without the ink work:

Then, it was time to add high and lowlights. I used a brush called Dry Brush Inker, that allowed for a bit of a break from anything too cheap-looking – I wanted a semblance of tactility. I also used the sandy colour as a texture to lay over the grass, to stop that looking too lush and keep the desert look intact. This was my second attempt – initially, I used a grain shader to try to build up detail and visual interest across all the areas. But this looked too modern, too much like a 2010s comic book – it couldn’t concievably pass as a vintage illustration. Using these modern techniques to ape obsolete techniques is always a fine line to walk. Obvious pastiche looks cheap. It was also important to NOT introduce any new colours at this point – all digital paint added to the image is drawn from that original palette.

Once the colours and the inks looked about right, I exported the inks alone as a PNG, and used a Photoshop process from Spoon Graphics called Bad Print Effects to add a number of filters and degradations that would mitigate the clean, boring flat vector style that it had. I did not process the colour elements – I find it a bit too harsh on those, so processed the colour paint layers separately in Camera Raw Filter and just added grain and texture, also using a vintage paper texture as an added layer to give some variance. But, it really helps to give the solid ink lines some imperfections and a hint of translucence – I used the same process on my Coffy poster.

The Bad Print process also comes with a harsh, aged paper texture as a background. I used GIMP to enact the Color to Alpha process on that background, and leave only a scuzzy, fibrous overlay that would make it seem as if the ink has bled into cheap paper. One more layer of old paper as a screen for variance, and we were done.

Then, it was time for text. For the podcast, I needed only the name of the podcast and the episode number. But for the print, I wanted to make it seem like an ad printed in an old comic book, which meant tagline, title, and the original air date of the TV movie. The colour choice was influenced equally by the yellow of the original 1971/72 release poster, by the blocky yellow text of Columbo, which Spielberg had just directed before this also for Universal Television Productions, and the repeated use of yellow to signify danger that my good friend Matt identified in watching Jaws. I loved the way the title was in inverted commas on the release poster, so nicked that for mine. I also paraphrased a great tagline from another.

The use of text also re-emphasised the primacy of the truck in the layout. The right-justified text was a matter of necessity – that’s where the spare real estate was – but also, as you read down the bright yellow text , your eye is led right to the truck, with nothing else to attract the eye directly below until you get to the network logo in the bottom right.

All-in-all, a fun, mostly instinctive path through the making of this poster. There’s plenty I would have fixed if I had spent more time, but I think in retrospect the only thing I would have definitely done differently is to lay down the ink work direct onto Bristol board in pen, then scanned. I have better control physically, and once scanned, can always make changes digitally where necessary.