When I was in high school I received a scholarship from Art Center. It was an incredible score that I had almost no appreciation for. I figured art to be more or less free form an didn't understand how school could help. I went anyway, started while I was in high school on Saturday classes, then regular classes after graduation. I have very little from my lack of efforts there, but I'm pleased with what I did there and the way I drew as a kid.
The teachers there were very cool. In my first classes I found different teachers had differing approaches to drawing. I saw this as inconsistent and it made them less credible in my young eyes. I could smoke in class and that was a very important part of my acceptance of higher education.
This guy was a teacher named Carlos.
I didn't spend much time on faces in class. Sketches were quick, thirty seconds for the warm ups and twenty minutes for the long pose.
This was a typical scene. Model on the stand, apparently on a blanket, an alarm clock next to her head while the teacher points out all the things we should be paying attention to.
Drew was my favorite, the only teacher I really remember. Although every teacher had a lot to offer, he's the one who caught my attention; he also discovered I was ambidextrous. I didn't think about him for several decades until I took a class from Marshall Vandruff who was singing the praises of an artist named Drew Struzan. I remembered a teacher who drew named Drew and showed these to Marshall who confirmed the identity.
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