Operation: Choosing Joy
Day Eighteen: A Rough Sketch
Posted on November 30, 2012 by rebeccanoelbernard Standard
images-2I entered the subway car today to the sound of two giggling ladies posed on the nearest bench. Across the aisle an artist was perched with a sketch pad, actively illustrating the lines of the first woman’s face.
Each line flowed from the tip of his pen like a brush stroke, gliding across the white paper like an efficient dance. It was fascinating to watch this artist at work. He was working under a deadline: in only two short subway stops his subject would disappear and the work would have to be done.
The economy of movement was incredible. Each moment was filled with an action that was assertively taken and never doubted. At just the right time the product was finished and handed over. The woman was outstandingly tickled at both the accuracy and remarkableness of her portrait.
It was a moment of beauty. A man sharing his gift with those around him with such pleasure it generated even more pleasure, creating a ripple effect throughout the entire train.
I left the train inspired. To find my own economy of movement and my own efficiency of action. To do what I do without doubt and with generosity.
You can find the artist that I am talking about here: https://orinstudio.wordpress.com/
Day One Hundred and Sixty-One: What is it About that Subway?
Day Two Hundred and Fifty-Eight: A Classic Opinion
Day Two Hundred and Fifteen: The Crooners
This entry was posted in Discovery and tagged artists, doubt, economy of movement, efficiency of action, generosity, inspiration, portrature, sharing, sketching. Bookmark the permalink.
Watch subway artist draw incredible caricatures of fellow passengers on moving train
As someone films him with a mobile phone, Rodrick A. Perry – who goes by the nickname Orin – expertly produces brilliant likenesses of people around him
Faster Than a Speeding Train: Artist Man
By THOMAS W. HOLCOMB Jr.
Published: July 6, 2004
In that same time span, Mr. Perry, who has adopted the name Orin, will rough out a sketch of that rider, hand it to his subject and move on to draw someone else. His work is at once a solicitation and an act of altruism: a note at the bottom of the drawing suggests that tips are welcome but that in any case, the sketch is the rider’s to keep.
Soliciting tips for services may fly in the face of the Rules Governing the Conduct and Safety of the Public on the city’s subways and buses, Part 1050.6, to be specific. But so, it often seems, does smiling at and talking to strangers on the subway, which often happens among riders watching Mr. Perry work. They usually start out smiling at each other’s sketches, work up the nerve to comment on each other’s features and then share laments that they gave up their own tendencies to draw years ago.
On average, Mr. Perry said, he uses a pack of 500 sheets of laser-printer paper in a week. He said that about half the people whom he sketches reward him with a tip, usually $1 or $2. ”I set how much I want to make for the day,” he said, generally $50. He rarely collects that much, but as long as he brings in enough to pay his share of the rent, he says, he is satisfied.
His day on the subway can last two to four hours but he will work considerably longer if he is motivated by a particular theme. ”Some days I’ll just draw large women,” he said. ”Some days I’ll just draw kids. Most days I draw everyone.”
”I’ve been doing this full time for about a year, but I was always doing this between jobs,” he said. ”For 20 years I lived differently. I was a nine-to-fiver. I worked sales, I worked all these kinds of jobs and I would get up early in the morning, go to work and do what everyone else was doing.”
His former life, Mr. Perry said, has allowed him to ”totally understand when people are not receptive to what I’m doing.”
”This person’s had either a hard day; they don’t want to be bothered,” he said. ”It’s their option; it’s their privacy.”
He favors the R and the N trains in Manhattan, and in Queens, because he likes the view of Long Island City from the elevated track. He used to ride the E line, which runs from Queens to the World Trade Center, but has not returned since September 2001.
The R train is also one of Mr. Perry’s favorites because the cars have colored, individually molded seats rather than lines of bench seating. ”The way things are lined up in the R, people can be in their own space, be doing their thing and not so superconscious of you looking straight at them,” he said.
The setup also makes his stealth approach easier. While even the hint of objection from his subject will send him moving, he can often finish a sketch before his model is even aware of his presence, leaving the person to decide how to respond to his or her new likeness as Mr. Perry searches for another face. ”I try to be discreet about it, but I also have an aim,” he said. ”I try not to make it too much of a hustle for them. Like I try not to set a price for them because I think to myself: ‘People should have a right to decide. They don’t need art; it’s not like bread.”’
Sometimes, Mr. Perry is unable to finish a sketch before his subject gets up and walks away. When that happens, he flips the unfinished drawing down to the bottom of his stack of paper and moves on. He keeps all the partial works, as well as those drawings that are left behind. ”I’ll file them away,” he said, ”thinking to myself that if I’m ever doing commercial work, I would use these faces to make the illustrations a bit more realistic.”
Mr. Perry has been sketching riders for so long that some recognize him, and either move away or signal that they would like a paper portrait.
On an uptown R train in Manhattan one recent afternoon, a young girl giggled and blushed a bright red as she watched Mr. Perry sketch another rider. Then she moved into a seat across from him, cajoled her severe, matronly companion into sitting beside her, and asked Mr. Perry to sketch them. After asking where they were getting off, he took what is for him an unusual amount of time– five stops, from Herald Square to Lexington Avenue and 59th Street. Clearly pleased, they handed him a few folded dollar bills as they got off the train. Mr. Perry got off too, then boarded a downtown R train and continued sketching.
”During the day, I stay in Manhattan,” he said. ”Not because I feel it’s better money, but I feel, sometimes, people’s attitudes change when they’re in Manhattan. We have the assumption that Manhattan is a special city where the kind of thing that I do is allowed.”
Reza A. Ebrahimi, 12, was visiting Manhattan from Long Island for a day of fun when he, his mother and two siblings encountered Mr. Perry on an R train. Reza was paying no attention as Mr. Perry began wielding a marker that looks like charcoal but is not as messy. Reza’s older sister clued him in, but the boy did not acknowledge what was going on until the artist presented him with his likeness. ”I just thought it was his job and I didn’t want to be rude, so I just let him finish,” Reza said. ”It came out good so I’m going to put it up in my room and show it off to people.”
His mother, Liliana I. Ebrahimi, 42, who calls New York ”a place to come and enjoy,” was not at all perturbed by a stranger’s attention to her son. ”In the city, nobody has privacy,” she said matter-of-factly.
Photos: Rodrick A. Perry quickly sketches subway riders, like Daisy Rodriguez, who became an art subject aboard an R train in Manhattan last week. (Photographs by Nancy Siesel/The New York Times)
Was on my way home from a show tonight, when this guy starts drawing this lady on the subway. After he gave her the drawing, he asked if another gentleman wanted his portrait drawn. The portrait was completed in minutes. After a few more people, I had the opportunity to have my portrait drawn. Orin Ink or Roderick ‘Orin’ Perry, has been doing these portraits with black marker on white paper for some time and has even been featured in the Village Voice.
This was a really cool experience, and people just got really curious…and happy. He only asks for donations so he can buy the drawing supplies, but if you can’t donate, he doesn’t fuss about it.
Check out the 90 second video of him tonight at work and if you have the chance, check out his blog. Maybe if you see him on the train, he’ll draw you!
New York Minute
My neighbor and I boarded the downtown A Train at rush hour one morning last week where I noticed a man drawing a portrait in a seat close to us. He was using bold strokes and working quickly.
The artist was a Black man, around forty years old by my guess, and he wore close-cropped facial hair and an army-green cap. His two front teeth appeared to be wrestling and the right tooth was winning.
My neighbor and I chatted for several stops and I didn’t give the artist another thought until I turned my head and saw that five or six people in our vicinity were holding portraits of themselves. The artist was reaching across the aisle to hand a fresh drawing to a stout, middle-aged Korean man who had his eyes closed.
The Korean man rejected the drawing without looking at it. Generally, this isn’t an insulting move. If you took every piece of paper that was handed to you in this city, you’d drown in the stuff. The artist explained, albeit with an edge, that he was handing him a drawing. The Korean man relented, though I still don’t think he understood what was going on.
And the Korean man’s instincts were at least partially on target. The artist was seeking tips. It was a clever, much more palatable (to me anyway) method of asking for cash on the subway, but it still put the recipient of the portrait on the spot. Some people gave the artist money for the drawing, some didn’t.
I leaned over to see the picture of the Korean man. It was a very good-not-great likeness, but when I considered that it was probably the seventh drawing the artist had done in less than thirty minutes, I bumped up the grade. He saw me looking and asked if I wanted a picture too.
I wanted to say yes, but we were slowing down to arrive at my stop, so I told him that there wasn’t time. He went to work on someone else. Then the train stopped and we waited for ten minutes poised right outside the 59th st stop. He finished three more drawings in the ten-minute delay.
He didn’t come back to me, but he did catch my neighbor. Check it out.