diymy 084 Only through practice can one succeed.
084 Only through practice can one succeed.
The dreaded sketching class has finally arrived.
For architecture students, a strong foundation in art is essential. While they don't need to be as proficient as fine arts students at art academies, they should at least have basic modeling skills and spatial imagination, since these are indispensable for drawing design drafts and creating renderings in the future.
However, the reality is cruel.
Although architecture is under the academy of art, it admits only science students. These good students, who grew up doing science exams, can solve calculus problems, but asking them to pick up a pencil and draw is simply a death sentence.
In the art studio, more than thirty students looked distressed in front of their easels.
The sketching teacher was a middle-aged man with long hair and an artistic air about him. He walked around the classroom with his hands behind his back, his brows furrowing more and more as he looked at the students' listless eyes.
"Look at you all, what kind of people are you!"
The teacher walked up to the podium and placed the plaster geometric figure in his hand heavily on the table.
It's no wonder he was angry; this wasn't the first sketching lesson. But after teaching several lessons, seeing these students who usually considered themselves good students making no progress at all, it would be hard for anyone to lose their temper.
Leading architecture freshmen with absolutely no art background is always the most agonizing experience.
So the teacher decided that he couldn't just torture himself, he also had to torment the students.
"Architects need passion! They need keen observation skills! How are you going to do any design work in this state?"
The audience was deathly silent, except for a few bolder individuals whispering among themselves. Then, the teacher began to speak, and everyone fell silent.
"I was originally planning to talk about theory today and have you practice by copying. But since everyone's so listless, let's do something exciting. An in-class quiz! No one's going to give you any photos, and you don't need to copy from the book. Just draw this podium! And these still life objects on it: the plaster cast, the vase, and this apple. Forty-five minutes, finish and hand in your paper! If you don't finish or draw something really bad, you'll lose points on your participation!"
Everyone was stunned.
This is a sketch!
For a group of science students with zero experience who have only taken a few sketching classes, they can't even draw a proper copy, let alone start sketching from life? The perspective and the changes in light and shadow alone can drive people crazy.
Fang Gang stared blankly at the blank paper, holding a charcoal pencil, and muttered to himself, "It's over, it's really over this time. I can't even draw a circle properly, and you want me to draw an apple?"
Wei Jing wasn't much better off; he spent ages gesturing and still hadn't settled on a composition.
Only Wang Zhe calmly sharpened his pencil and fixed the drawing paper to the drawing board.
He squinted, gestured the proportions in front of him with a pencil, and then began to write.
rustling...
The sound of the pen tip scratching on the paper is rhythmic.
Initial sketch, composition, establishing major relationships, detailed depiction...
All of this was as natural to Wang Zhe as breathing.
In his previous life, he was a proper architecture graduate and had worked his way up in a design institute for many years. Hand-drawn sketches were his livelihood; the fundamentals were ingrained in his bones. Although he was a little rusty after being reborn, his understanding of structure and control over light and shadow were completely incomparable to these freshmen.
In less than twenty minutes, the general outline of the podium and the sense of volume of the still life were already vividly depicted on the paper.
The teacher walked around the classroom with his hands behind his back, shaking his head and sighing as he looked at the students' appalling state.
Some drew the vase crookedly, some drew the apple as a lump of coal, and some had the perspective completely reversed, making the table look like it was about to flip over.
Until he walked up behind Wang Zhe.
The teacher stopped in her tracks.
As he looked at the artwork on Wang Zhe's canvas, his tightly furrowed brows slowly relaxed, and a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.
The lines are smooth and definite, the perspective is accurate, and the relationship between black, white, and gray is handled just right. Although it is not finished yet, the texture of the vase, the volume of the apple, and the spatial sense of the podium under the light and shadow have already been vividly expressed.
If this student is a complete beginner with no prior experience, then what kind of talent does this person possess?
The teacher stopped behind Wang Zhe and remained silent.
The reprimanding suddenly stopped, making the students realize something was wrong. Some noticed the teacher was watching someone's actions, and naturally, others followed to see, only to freeze in place as well.
As a result, more and more classmates gathered behind Wang Zhe.
Their eyes widened, their mouths formed an "O" shape, and they began to whisper among themselves:
"Holy crap! This...this was drawn by Wang Zhe?"
"Awesome! The lighting, the texture—it's like a photograph!"
"This isn't on the college entrance exam, so why are you so good at drawing?"
Fang Gang exclaimed exaggeratedly, "You can even sketch? Old Wang, you're omnipotent!"
Wang Zhe put down his pen and smiled calmly.
The teacher asked solemnly, "Young man, what is your name?"
"Wang Zhe".
The teacher looked around and, seeing many students gathered around, said, "Look at his lines. They're loose, but the structure is very accurate. Especially the perspective—it's spot on. Those of you whose drawings look like dilapidated buildings, you should all take note! Wang Zhe, did you study this before?"
Wang Zhe nodded modestly: "During the summer after the college entrance examination, I enrolled in a class to cram for a little bit of study."
"A little bit?" The teacher smiled. "This isn't a level you can reach just by learning a little. It seems you have a real talent for this; keep up the good work!"
What should have been a disheartening sketching class was transformed into Wang Zhe's personal showcase.
The bell rang, and the teacher left satisfied with Wang Zhe's painting, saying she would keep it as a model to show the students in Class Two. Wang Zhe was surrounded by his classmates, including his roommates and several female classmates.
My roommate hasn't said much yet; it's all the female classmates who've spoken.
"Wang Zhe, how did you learn X-ray vision?"
"Master, master, how do I lay out those ribbon cables so neatly?"
Even Huang Yue, a classmate, squeezed over, looking at him with admiration: "I didn't know you were so good at drawing. Can I sit next to you in sketching class? I can ask you questions if I don't understand something."
Faced with the girls' enthusiasm, Wang Zhe maintained a polite smile: "Actually, there's no special technique. Just practice more. There's nothing special about it, it's all about practice."
However, throughout the entire class, one person remained almost entirely silent.
That's Song Zhiyi.
She drew better than the other students, but not as dramatically as Wang Zhe, so she didn't attract everyone's attention. When the teacher saw her sketch, she only gave a few simple words of praise, and Song Zhiyi's reaction was just a smile and a nod, like an ordinary girl who was intelligent but shy—of course, the kind with an ordinary personality but outstanding looks.
Song Zhiyi also saw Wang Zhe's painting, but she didn't go closer to examine it. She already knew his painting skills well during the summer vacation, so there was no need to join in the fun now.
However, seeing Wang Zhe surrounded by everyone's attention, encouraged by the teacher, and even approached by several bold girls...
Although Song Zhiyi remained silent, she couldn't help but reveal a happy smile.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.