sing out, louise

[The Catalan Atlas] was created c. 1375 by Abraham Cresques, a member of the Jewish community on the island of Majorca. At the time there thrived on the island an active Catalan chart-making school, of which he was its best known member, having the title of ‘Master of Maps and Compasses’ to the royal family of Aragon in Spain. Abraham was not only a master map maker, but also an expert maker of a wide variety of nautical instruments, compasses and fine clocks, and he was fluent in a number of languages.

It is widely thought that he and his son Jehuda prepared the magnificent illuminated Catalan Atlas as a gift from the crown prince of Aragon to King Charles V of France, who was thirteen years old at the time. The Atlas is a masterpiece depicting a detailed late fourteenth century view of the known world, a visual encyclopedia containing extensive commentary in captions and images designed to encompass all known geographical, and historical human knowledge, a well-documented representation of the whole inhabited world as it was known in fourteenth-century Europe, all the way from England to China.

Of the extant medieval maps and portolans, the Catalan Atlas is one of the finest known examples. Similar in many ways to an illuminated manuscript, this map was drawn on fine vellum panels mounted on wood, with each sheet measuring 65 x 50 cm per panel, with the panels folding out like a screen. It was designed to be placed on a table or platform, and walked around rather than to be affixed to a wall.

It is embellished with vistas and close-up views, a wide variety of flora and fauna, ships and caravans. Portraits and heraldry further embellish the work with tales from Greek and Roman mythology, the Bible, and the accounts of medieval travelers, obviously including Marco Polo. Information from other thirteenth century explorers such as Friar Odoric, a Franciscan traveler who journeyed in China for a number of years, was also used.

Countless vignettes are used to depict historical events, such as the visit of Marco Polo’s father and uncle to Kublai Khan in Chanbalik (Beijing). The first known representation of the Empire of the Golden Horde which dominated Russia for centuries is depicted on the Volga River. To the east a caravan thought to include Marco Polo and his family, shows camels laden with goods and merchants on horseback headed toward China via the Silk Road. The vignette details the camel drivers holding onto the camels’ tails, with one rider obviously asleep on his horse. It is the first known depiction of the Silk Road.

As a former music teacher, I can also say that "learn the fundamentals first" is the death knell for a vast percentage of beginners, especially adult learners.

I've run into this with drawing several times, where some well-meaning artist has lectured me on needing to study anatomy properly or not use shortcuts like CSP brushes. And oh, believe me, I know. I know exactly how to learn an artistic discipline in a structured way. I just...don't want to!

The thing is, I'm not aiming to be a professional artist. I want to draw my gay little anime guys. I would undoubtedly improve at art much faster if I approached every gay little anime guy drawing as a study exercise. But I would also have quit drawing a decade ago if I couldn't just let myself enjoy drawing imperfect fucked-up little guys with whatever shortcuts I needed to body myself across the finish line.

With my adult piano students, my approach was always "What's your goal?" If their goal was to learn exactly one Elton John songbook to play at parties, then...that's what we did. We'd put tape on the keys to label the notes, and just fuckin go for it. Learning exactly one Elton John songbook is a good and noble musical goal, full stop.

Some of my students needed and enjoyed a more structured approach to learning; if they wanted to be able to play classical music, then yes, scales were going to have to enter the equation at some point. And yet others would learn the Elton John songbook, catch their white whale, and realize they wanted to explore more of the ocean. The scales were still there for them to learn!

Often the choice isn't between "learn art well" and "learn art imperfectly" - the choice is between "learn art imperfectly" and "don't do art at all." To which I say, learn imperfectly! Or, what the hell, don't 'learn' art. Just do, and enjoy the doing of it.