the horsey test

Having opened my big mouth a while ago about real artists being able to draw horses, I thought I should probably attempt to prove myself capable. Since there are horses conveniently parked in the field over the road, that was where I began. I took a small drawing book and a biro and set out to draw me some horsey. 

They obliged me by standing around, quietly wondering what the scrawny human was up to. Some went so far as to actually pose nicely, which was handy. Others took the mickey something fierce, and stood in front of the ones posing. Eventually, they all lost interest and moved on, having heard there was some great grass at the far end of the field.

There are pitfalls lying in wait for the horse draughtsman. Their ears come out looking like Doberman ears if you're too emphatic with the curve and point. The legs leave the body at unexpected angles, giving them the appearance of being perpetually poised, ready to spring forward at the gallop, even when standing still. And don't get me started on hooves. What kind of design is that for a foot? That's why God made tufty grass, so painters wouldn't have to deal with hooves.

I took photographs too, but something weird happens when you take pictures of horses. Even though they were standing still, they all came out looking as if they were caught in the middle of a peculiar dance, with legs inexplicably in the air, tails flapping about, and gormless expressions. Anyway, here's the end result. A drawing I'm not totally ashamed of. 






It had to be patched and redrawn a couple of times. Obviously, it's time to take a look at how other, better artists tackled the same subject. Leonardo's drawings for the Sforza equestrian statue spring to mind, along with Degas at the races. Degas is a great choice because you can often see his mind working with different versions and over-drawing in his studies. 



Horses in a Meadow, by Degas. Photo by cliff1066 on Flickr.

The trick, I've found, is to avoid making your horse look like a freakishly stick-legged rodent - more easily done than you might suspect - and to take care over the aforementioned Doberman ears. Remember, horses come in different shapes and sizes, and that experts will look long and hard to make sure you've captured the characteristics of a particular breed, quite possibly with that same obsessive attention to detail that makes painting steam trains a no go.

The good news is that information is just a Google away. I already have George Stubbs' 'Anatomy of the Horse', which will show you more than you wish to know about the insides and outside of that quadruped, along with Muybridge's 'Animals in Motion', which demonstrates how a horse runs. YouTube has this video, 'Equine Anatomy on a Live Painted Horse'. 





Am I going to explore the horse as subject? No. There are equestrian artists online who will capture the likeness of your favourite hunter for a fee. Paint what you love, should be the guiding principle for any painter, and I confess I don't feel much more than wary admiration for horses in general. And now I know what a fetlock is, and where the withers are, I feel I know as much as I needed to. It's just that, as a landscape painter, I think I should have some ability to convincingly render any of the staffage that might appear in my paintings. So, cows next. People I can do already.