Drawing the Human Head Series: Lesson 11 — THE “TRICK” OF RAPHAEL, MICHELANGELO AND VELAZQUEZ

Drawing the Human Head Series: Lesson 11 — THE ART OF PORTRAITURE & THE LESSONS OF THE MASTERS

THE "TRICK" OF RAPHAEL AND MICHELANGELO

Regarding "practice and verification," allow me to give you a few final pieces of advice and, while I’m at it, to tell you the "trick," or the secret, of Raphael and Michelangelo.

I have already told you that I have great confidence in this teaching; I truly believe that you will learn to draw heads, faces, and to make portraits if, as I hope, you devote as much of your time as possible to studying — TO DRAWING — everything you have seen and learned up to this point.

I advise you to do exercises and drawings to memorize everything concerning the canon, the skull, the fundamental structure of the head, perspective in the two little spheres that are the eyes, etc. And I ask you to alternate these rather theoretical exercises with drawings from life — I have already told you this as well — in front of the mirror, using yourself as a model.

Start immediately by drawing isolated elements, fragments of the face: one eye, both eyes, the nose, etc. But please, do not yet try to draw a complete face; we will get there. And make these drawings with great attention and an authentic curiosity to see and discover all the forms you have before your eyes. In two words: copy everything very exactly.

Here is the comment that the master of portraiture, Ingres, used to make when he spoke with his students and told them the secret of Raphael and Michelangelo:

“—Do you know what Raphael and Michelangelo did, he would say to them, to draw and paint their marvelous figures in the Papal Apartments and the Sistine Chapel? They prostrated themselves before their model; they diminished themselves; they became humble; they looked and copied everything, simply and even stupidly…”

Velázquez, painter attached to the court of the King of Spain, Philip IV, was contemplating his latest work, barely finished: the portrait of Admiral Pulido Pareja.

Velázquez was alone in his vast studio, installed in the Alcázar itself, in a room adjacent to the royal apartments.

King Philip IV entered.
— Still here, Admiral? How is it that you have not left?
— The admiral has left, Sire — replied Velázquez —. You are speaking to his portrait.

Stupefied, the King approached the painting.
— I assure you that I was mistaken. So much so that it seemed to me that Admiral Pareja was here in flesh and blood.

Then, as if he wanted to take revenge, the King continued:
— Indeed, because… I have been told, Diego, that all your skill consists in knowing how to paint heads.
— You will do me a favor, Sire, by believing it, for I know no one who could paint portraits that deceive the King himself (1).

THE LESSON OF THE GREAT MASTER

Velázquez’s reply to King Philip IV would provide a perfect introduction to this lesson devoted to the study of the portrait. Velázquez gives us an essential rule there: in effect, he tells us and proves to us — “You will do me a favor, Sire, by believing it…” — that, thanks to his “skill” in drawing and constructing the human head, he could paint perfect portraits, capable of confusing the King himself.

To better understand the importance and meaning of this essential rule, I advise you one day to visit the Prado Museum to study the portraits painted by Velázquez. Stop and contemplate them in his secular, religious, mythological or contemporary paintings; for example “The Triumph of Bacchus”, “The Forge of Vulcan”, “The Surrender of Breda”, “Las Meninas”.

Look at some of these heads on the details on the opposite page. Study for example this difficult foreshortening of “The Boy from Vallecas”, or this other one, even more difficult, of the head of “Menippus”… What extraordinary heads! What sureness, what perfection, what profound skill!

These heads are not the definitive proof that Velázquez knew how to paint a portrait better than anyone? It is obvious. If he knew how to construct, draw and paint the human head with such perfection, if he was able to resolve one of these complicated foreshortenings in such a sure, masterful way, could it cost him to put in place and construct a portrait?

Nothing, that was nothing for him. For example, placing exactly the eyes of Queen Margaret of Austria, drawing the nose, the mouth and the chin on the axis of symmetry of the face, framing the oval of this face and the face itself in three-quarters view — only three-quarters, without raising or tilting the head —… all this was for Velázquez like sewing or singing for others, done in an instant, almost without paying attention.

And one can easily imagine it, since constructing a head cost him no effort, that Velázquez could devote his attention to the more difficult and more complex aspects of the art of portraiture; he could, for example, strive to give emphasis to the most characteristic features of the model, try to find “the best resemblance”, represent the most familiar aspect of his model, so that he seems somehow alive on the canvas, that he speaks to us, sees us and looks at us, like this Admiral Pareja who seemed to be there in flesh and blood before the King.

Here, summarized, is Velázquez’s lesson:

To draw or paint a good portrait, one must, above all, master the drawing and construction of the human head in general.

Take advantage of this lesson; keep it in mind: you must first possess all the knowledge relating to the study of the human head in general and have studied in depth and put into practice, very seriously, the content, the rules and the data of the previous chapter. You must know by heart the proportions, the particularities of the different parts of the face — study of the eyes, nose, mouth, ears, hair, etc. —, the generalities on anatomy and expression, the modifications produced by sex and age.

Then, here is the second part of these fundamental knowledges: the lesson specially devoted to the art of portraiture.

(1) This anecdote is historical. Velázquez painted the portrait of Admiral Pareja in 1630. Shortly before, Velázquez had exhibited on Calle Mayor in Madrid an equestrian portrait of King Philip IV that made a great impression and aroused the jealousy of certain artists of the time. They criticized the form… of the horse, and it was then said: “Bah! All his skill consists in knowing how to paint a head,” a phrase that the King repeated to Velázquez.