Big Questions.

The 3 most frequent questions I get asked – ANSWERED. Sort of.

Welcome back…and to a whole new year! Not a lot to indicate that might be the case, but it’s all in the mind, isn’t it?

I hope you managed a half decent break. Recharge, redirect…or just put your feet up with a drink. I found a moment by a fire with a whiskey and Master and Commander on the TV, so I hope you found a similar moment of solace, doing whatever you like to do.

If not, don’t worry, you’re here now and the kiosk is open. Coffee will be ready in a moment, but while you wait, why don’t I tell you the three most frequent inquiries I get at this hatch? After all, let’s at least try and start the year by giving the people what they want.

1. How do you make your drawings and what equipment do you use?

Bit on the nose, isn’t it? Maybe I’ll tell you the old family apple crumble recipe while I’m at, eh? Well, lean in close, because here comes the secret.

I have always been somewhat dismissive of this question in the past, because it’s my process. MY process. I don’t mean that I own it, I mean that it was just the one that I found worked for me. So, it seems weird why people want to know, as figuring your own approach is the exciting and unique part of this job. But assuming it’s just genuine curiosity, the fundamentals of the process are as follows.

I sketch out the rough idea in loose pencil (maybe multiple versions if it’s for a client), then I ink over the lines I like, remove the pencil, scan it in, and apply the colour as flat digital layers.

I always think this sequence of images I did while developing a concept for a Game of Thrones game shows the three stages quite well.

Of course, there is the drawing part, which inevitably makes me think of the ‘how to draw an owl’ meme, and that’s the bit where you’re on your own unfortunately. You’ll need to work out how you draw an owl. And everything else.

Don’t worry though, this is the fun bit. And the frustrating bit. And all the other bits too. It’s the job, and nobody can do it like you can.

Much like process, materials and tools get asked about a lot, and again I would urge you to go for what works FOR YOU. But I currently use the following;

A standard heavyweight cartridge paper for pretty much everything.

0.5 Rotring mechanical pencil for the sketching.

0.1 Staedtler Pigment Liner for the ink line.

Photoshop and a Wacom Cintiq for colour layers.

2. What program do you use?

This is an even less interesting question, but I think it has a more interesting answer. I get asked it a lot in relation to my isometric drawings, and ‘photoshop’ is not the answer they are looking for, because they have assumed I have built the scene three-dimensionally first with one of the many programs I don’t know the names of. Then I have chosen a view and applied lighting, textures etc.

But there are no programs involved in the creation of the scenes I make. This is not a flex, there are plenty of people out there who work this way and create great work, but I genuinely wouldn’t know where to start. But nor would I want to either. I create my images and the environments simultaneously, and this is a very subtle but crucial difference. I have no idea if the environments I draw ‘work’, what I’m trying to achieve is making it LOOK like it works. Or not trying to show what it looks like at all, but more what it feels like. The question I’m constantly asking myself is, ‘Can someone imagine themselves in that space?’ and if not, what do I need to do so they can?

I read somewhere that someone had attempted to make a 3D model of Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks, and found that it didn’t actually work as a physical space. Fucking Nighthawks! Possibly the embodiment of art depicting a visceral, believable place. I was delighted by this. Because it doesn’t matter, it only matters that you think you COULD go there, or it reminds you of a place you have been. That’s all I’m ever hoping for.

3. That wouldn’t work.

Less of a question and more of a heckle this one, and it’s the most baffling and amusing inquiry I get. It’s not the same as what I’ve just described in the last bit, and it basically takes the form of someone finding a real-world fault with a fictitious place I have drawn. It’s also frequently delivered in quite an aggressive manner for some reason, but I guess that’s just the internet? So, let me explain with a made-up example. With reference to the image below, someone might say something like; ‘Good luck getting the stock down those stairs’.

I know this is insane, but humour me while we unpack the steps taken to reach this. By drawing this space I have somehow magicked it into existence and it now exists as a commercial enterprise in the world. Then, somehow, this inquirer has been promoted (against their will), to a role that oversees stock deliveries, and is now faced with the difficult task of getting stuff down the stairs. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?? Just enjoy the nice scene, none of it exists at all! Why would you choose to reimagine it as a nightmare in your head?!

Now, I’m not so stupid as to not realise that this is just internet madness (‘There’s a nice thing, let’s tear it down’), and in a way it’s quite flattering, as I’ve created something believable enough that people think it should hold up to real world criticism. For example, I don’t think anyone is getting angry with The Simpsons’ house for not being up to building regs, or the stairs in Saruman’s tower failing to be Part M compliant... (One for the architects in the house).

Go Forth.

So, there you go! That’s how it’s done. Or rather, that’s how I do it. And I didn’t mean to be so facetious about the drawing bit, but that’s the bit that no one can really explain. For me, I think it’s just years of being interested in certain things and trying to somehow explore or create my own version. Research, in all it’s forms, is the fun bit for me, but it’s really not as dry as it sounds. It’s all research. The way the light is catching that bench over there, the way that guy is standing, that woman’s scarf….and this coffee too.

I’ll let you you get on with 2024 now. You’ve had a week already, and it’s all waiting for you.

Owen D. Pomery.