Sunday, March 5, 2023

Speed-Sketching People in Watercolors

Imagine this short scenario.

You have just sat down in your dental clinic’s check-in area, when you look across the room and see a woman with very interesting eyes and very red hair. So, you do what you always do in such situations. You take out your pencil and pocket-size watercolor pad—and start sketching.

You have just finished your preliminary line sketch when she stands up to go into her appointment with the dentist. (And she does without any idea that you have been sketching her.) The man sitting next you says he is surprised that you could do this in about 45 seconds. But you explain that it took you so long because, after all, it is a Monday morning.

When you return to your car you take a picture of your line sketch. And that looks like this.



A drawing on a white board

Description automatically generated with low confidence



Next you go to the local coffee shop to enjoy your favorite hot beverage. While there you take out your mini watercolor travel kit and finish the sketch. Although you are no longer under time, you still try to maintain the same feel of spontaneity with the brush.

And now your miniature (just less than 4 inches high) masterpiece looks like this.


End of the story.

As you have surely realized, I did this impromptu vignette myself. And I could have given you a dry factual description of how I did it. I nevertheless wrote it as a narrative with you as the protagonist for a reason. I wanted to impart the sense of excitement and adventure that you feel when speed-sketching people.

You need no exceptional gift to speed-sketch.* All you need to begin with is the basic artistic skills taught by Betty Edwards in her book: Drawing on the Right Side of Your Brain. Beyond that, you just need to learn a few special techniques that I acquired when I was a television courtroom artist. (You can see a sketch that I did for CBS News back in the 1980s at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Courtroom_sketch.) Those techniques are the subject of my third book, which has the working title: Speed-Sketching People. The most amazing part of speed sketching, by the way, is that as your velocity increases, so does your depictive accuracy—if you do it right.

The remainder of this article is excerpted from the current draft of that book, and it focuses on what I call my “expeditious palette.” This is what I consider the optimal selection of watercolors for sketching human beings. And this is what it looks like.


Yes! It is just three colors. More specifically, it is a simple triadic set consisting of Daniel Smith’s Mayan Red, Mayan Yellow, and Mayan Dark Blue. These are all sharp intensely saturated jewel-like pigments. Yet you can use them to paint subtle life-like human skin tones. This versatility enables you to sketch anything and everything you want.

My traveling kit for sketching is a small 6-pan Portable Painter Micro Watercolor Palette. This is what it looks like.


You can learn more about it at: https://www.amazon.com/Micro-Portable-Painter-Watercolor-Palette/dp/B08LG2YS64/ref=sr_1_3?crid=29A7AD8S3KXR6&keywords=6-pan+Portable+Painter+Micro+Watercolor+Palette&qid=1676937095&sprefix=6-pan+portable+painter+micro+watercolor+palette%2Caps%2C1122&sr=8-3.

That 6 count is the exact number that I need. And it is a convenient 2¼”x2¾”x1” when closed in your pocket or purse.

In three of the kit’s half-pans, I have squeezed nurdles of the Mayan primary triad, and then set them to dry. The three remaining half-pans contain flesh tones, which I have blended from the primary trio. I call these mixtures the Carotenoid, the Pale Melanoid and the Dark Melanoid ranges. (I base my flesh tones upon actual human skin colors, rather than upon the standard ethno-racial demographic terminology.) The following are generic faces that represent those ranges.





I did the one on the left with the Carotenoid range. I modeled the middle two with the Pale Melanoid and Dark Melanoid ranges, respectively. And I did the fourth head on the right with a mixture of the two Melanoid ranges. You can clearly see that by intermixing the three basic ranges you can match the skin colors of anyone on our planet.

On an impulse, and for nothing more than the fun of it, I created this one more imaginary head.



I wanted to see how I could: 1) incorporate pure Mayan pigments into the flesh tones, and 2) get the appearance of white makeup on a face. This was just in case I ever want to sketch a clown or street mime—or anyone else of that kind.

Soon after I had originally devised this travel palette, I decided to take it out on a sketching safari—with a 9” x 12”-inch cold press pad. I usually work on pocket-sized (or slightly larger) pads or books, because that makes it easier to avoid detection by the people that I am surreptitiously drawing. But I wanted to do an illustration for my pending book, that shows what my watercolor sketches look like in a compact montage. (I should mention that this was prior to the Covid-19 outbreak, hence the absence of masks.)



I found these people in various settings. I saw the woman in the upper left corner (excerpted below), for example, at a wedding banquet.



She was sitting at a table next to mine and was conversing with someone to her left. I had a wonderful view of her elegant face. And she held this “pose” for a long time.

I saw these next two people on an airliner, when they were departing the plane.



Although I had been sitting in a forward seat, I was waiting for the crowded aisle clear, before trying to disembark myself. I sat high-up sideways in my seat and sketched these two faces in the stop-and-go throng of passengers coming down the lane.

The next face demonstrates something else you should know about my favored Mayan trio.



If you mix these primaries at just the right ratios, you get a solid black, which dilutes to a clean neutral gray. I used that black to paint this young man’s hair, and some of his facial features as well. Given that, these three Mayan pigments alone may well be the most versatile field sketching palette you could ever carry.

Observe that I did all these sketches so offhandedly that I made use of the spaces around and betwixt them to blot and assess my brush loads “on the fly.” This “work of art” will never grace the halls of the Louvre. I had delightful experiences in drawing these unsuspecting individuals. This is the ultimate form of “people-watching.”

On that note, I will end by wishing you a long happy lifetime of sketching!


*As with any other creative endeavor, some artists will do better at speed sketching than others. But the general ability to speed sketch is not limited only to the most exceptional.

Sunday, February 19, 2023

Watercolor of a Grandchild, A Photography Session

 Susan Garner Photography did a photography life style session of Butch painting a water color portrait of his grandchild. Here are the photos that she shared with us.












Here is the final piece!





Sunday, October 23, 2022

A Tale of Three Colors



A Tale of Three Colors is being published by Daniel Smith so it is no longer available here to share. It's been published on the Daniel Smith Website. Come check it out!


Thank you!


Saturday, June 24, 2017

"HELP ME, RHONDA": Her Identity Revealed


According to songwriter Brian Wilson, "Rhonda" was not based on a real person” (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Help_Me,_Rhonda).

This quote from Wikipedia is not true.  Rhonda was indeed a real person.  Brian Wilson, however, is not lying.  He just never knew who she was.  And that is because he never asked me who she was.  But now, after all these years, I am going to reveal her.

Rhonda was a girl that I had a crush on when I was in high school in California in the 1960s.  (I never knew her last name.)  One school day, while I was gazing at her admiringly, I came up with an idea for a song about her.  And within a week, I had finished the song and had titled it simply “Rhonda.” 

I came from a Country Music background, and had decided to be a songwriter.  But this time I wanted specifically to write a rock-and-roll tune for the Beach Boys, whose music I really liked.  Thinking that Rhonda might be that song, I planned to submit it to the them someday—although I never did.  (Rhonda herself never heard it either.)

After graduating from high school, in 1963, I briefly pursued a career as a songwriter.  (I lived in Los Angeles, and Hollywood was not too far away.)  For a while, I wrote for a band called “The Emerals” (that is not a misspelling), who later changed their name to “The Palace Guard.”  I taught the Emerals my song Rhonda, which they included in their repertoire.


You can read more about the Emerals (The Palace Guard) at en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Palace_Guard.


One day, when I saw the Emerals at a practice, they told me that they had met Brian Wilson, while they were at a recording studio, and that they had taken the opportunity to sing Rhonda to him.  Then, a month or two later, I heard Help Me, Rhonda for the first time on American Bandstand, and its “kinship” to my “Rhonda” was unmistakable—particularly in its hook.

A hook is defined as "a musical idea, often a short riff, passage, or phrase, that is used in popular music to make a song appealing and to 'catch the ear of the listener'."  In practice, such a riff is usually a delightfully correlated combination of music and lyrics. In the Beatles’ classic, “She Loves You,” for example, the hook is “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.”  In my song Rhonda, the hook was the phrase, "Uh oh, Rhonda . . . I am growing fond of ya," with the background singers chanting: "Rhonda . . . Rhonda . . . Rhonda . . . Rhonda."

In the Beach Boy song, my fragment "Uh oh, Rhonda," became "Help me, Rhonda," with the exact same four-note melody--and "I am growing fond of ya" became "Help, help me Rhonda," with a slight modification in the melody, to adjust to the syllabic cadence shift in the new lyrics.  And that adjustment--as slight as it was--proved to be a stroke of genius, which transformed a riff that had been very ordinary into one that was quite extraordinary.  Wilson had then gone on the expand that revised hook into a truly superb creative work.  

I am not accusing Wilson of stealing my song, because he did not take enough of it to legally constitute plagiarism.  Copyright law does not protect songwriters from such small and in-exact appropriations by other songwriters.  Thus, I make no claim to any share of his royalties.  Nor do I bear any hard feelings toward him.  To be honest, Help Me Rhonda is immensely superior to the trite lyrics and bland melody of my rookie-like composition Rhonda

But this was a heart-breaking fate for a vulnerable, starry-eyed, teenage aspiring songwriter.  It felt as though something that was a deep part of me had been ripped out.  And this memory has haunted me for over 5 decades.  Millions of people have known—and loved—Help Me Rhonda.  In addition to the Beach Boys multiple versions of the song, there were cover renditions by such popular artists as Johnny Rivers, Roy Orbison, Jan and Dean, T. Graham Brown and Pastor Troy—as well as Ricky Martin’s great delivery at the Brian Wilson Tribute.  Yet no one has been aware that I am a co-creator of its iconic hook.  In other words, if it were not for my Rhonda, there would be no Help Me Rhonda.  

As time went by, I kept this story mostly to myself, because it was painful to even think about, and I couldn’t expect anyone to really believe me.  Wilson was a famous and accomplished super-songwriter.  But I, on the other hand felt like a complete nobody, who had no credibility whatsoever.  Nevertheless, I had indispensably contributed to one of the most popular songs in Rock ‘n Roll history.

Although I never stopped writing music, I eventually turned my focus of attention to my first creative love—and became a professional artist.

But I am an old man now.  And I have determined that I will not take my secret with me to my grave.

Now you know who Rhonda, in “Help Me Rhonda,” was. 

And I now know the wonderfully sweet feeling of closure—after all these years.




© Butch Krieger 2017