That largely depends on how well you understand the program you plan on drawing with. The technique, fundamentals, and general rules of drawing and painting can be tweaked then applied to any medium — digital isn’t an exception — the biggest shift is simply in learning how to use the toolset and do so efficiently.

When I mostly painted in oils, I knew the confines and necessities of the toolset — I knew going into a painting that I needed my paints nearby and I would group them together with similar colored tubes in their own bags. I would mix key color scales ahead of time on a glass palette so that I wouldn’t need to constantly be making new ones mid-painting. I would buy generally either a linen canvas and head to the wood shop to build stretchers to put it on or just use a wooden panel as my surface. I’d need it on easel which would need to be angled to the right so that my painting arm wasn’t obscuring the model, photo, or still-life I was looking at. I’d need turpenoid/turpentine, linseed oil, and walnut oil for mixing and changing the consistency of the paint, have my brushes arranged with different bristle types and sizes for different paints as well as certain brushes for lighter colors and certain for darker. I learned how much pressure to apply to get a smooth or scumbled/dry look, how to glaze color, how to hold a brush for the most control without smudging wet paint, how long to wait in between layers, how to use both dry and wet layers for different purposes and textures, and a million other tiny factors that make up everything that is “oil painting”.

When I started to move to Photoshop, some of those things were simplified and synthesized like color mixing, paint drying, and brush cleaning, some were just slightly tweaked like the transition of thinners and thickeners to opacity and blending modes, and others were completely unfamiliar like an infinite range of sliders and depth maps replacing my familiar sable and bristle brushes (though over time you can learn how to use brush settings to bring that organic and at times unpredictable nature of real brushes back into a synthetic environment) — but what helped me transition most was simply learning the tools and nuances that make digital painting its own thing. Hotkeys, selections, layers, workspaces, and so on are best grasped as soon as possible so that you can simply practice painting — not constantly be forced to learn a new way to do something as you go along. Not learning the confines of your medium puts up obstacles, moments of pause, hesitation, frustration, and reasons to get distracted. I find this especially key of the digital medium for me, because the thing I like most about it over other means of painting is that I can just sit down and start making shit.

I don’t have to prepare ahead of time, making sure I have the necessary supplies, that my brushes are clean, my paints are sorted, my colors are mixed, my canvas is stretched… these are all things that delay getting that first brushstroke down — and though many people like digital for many reasons, I just get excited about making things and this lets me START doing so quicker. Even when I spend over a hundred hours on a digital illustration, being able to jump right into the first second of it gives me momentum and the motivation to start and subsequently finish a good deal of things. Drawing and painting traditionally combined with learning the fundamentals of Photoshop early on (even before I knew it could be used for drawing) made picking up a Wacom pen click incredibly fast. Though in the 6 years I’ve been digitally painting I still learn new things all of the time, especially ways I can manipulate the tools of the software to cater to aspects of oil painting I miss, it’s those fundamental first steps of learning the confines of the toolbox that digital artists of every level still use.

It’s also important to mention that like traditional mediums, digital can be as little as one step of a mixed-media process –- learn the tools that apply to its purpose for you. I know artists who only use it to bring out highlights of an otherwise all-oil piece for print, others who only use it to overlay color, others still who do their linework in pencil and then paint value and color digitally, obviously many who use digital from scratch, and some who even use digital initially, print, and draw/paint on top of their lines. Digital art does not replace or make older mediums obsolete, it’s simply a newer one with strengths and drawbacks like the rest of them. As new-fangled as it may seem to purists, I can assure you that painting with pixels is shockingly similar to doing so with pigment.

Read here/click the picture if you want to read an article where I go all philosophical and artsy, or start scrolling like crazy if your dash is no place for “words” let alone multiple “paragraphs” (though there are pictures and spots of mild humor… so… ya know… you’re missing out)

An Introduction
Let’s get formalities out of the way because I want to talk about things bigger than me when given a Scott Kelby Soapbox.  My name is Sam Spratt and I am a 23 year-old illustrator who focuses on realism. I’ve had the pleasure of making paintings for a mess of major publications, websites, celebrities, corporations, and oddly enough, even a few photographers (the profession which brought about the decline of illustration) such as David Hobby, Joe McNally, Lara Jade, and my good friend, that guy who did the Twilight poster. To watch some examples of how I sketch, render, and paint things, you can follow this link. Obligatory preamble complete. Now let’s move on.

The New Old
I am a knowing hypocrite. I roll my eyes at the Instagram-ification of photography – slapping vintage filters on digital photographs to make them appear old and organic. I loathe the skeuomorphic interfaces in Apple’s user-experience design – digital leather-trimmed calendar apps, paper textured digital notepads, and synthetic camera click sounds trying to make something “classical” which should be as clean and minimal as the aluminum hardware it rests in. Yet… I’m a painter of the digital variety, who has built a career off of translating techniques and concepts learned through Baroque-era oil painting courses into a modern medium. Pixels have replaced pigment for me, but they’re pushed around just the same.

Maybe it’s not as simple as swiping through some preset effects and slapping filters on filters over my every meal with a button press, but the core idea is the same: art and technology are converging into a Kurzweil-esque singularity and we look over our shoulders to build something on top of what came before it.

New mediums don’t always replace the old ones. Anyone who has ever used Photoshop knows that the tools aren’t the manifestations of mere synthetic coding robots, they’re explicitly modeled for usability after old-medium artistic techniques and workflows.

With every new iteration, software simultaneously distances itself from where it came from with new capabilities, as well as shifts the entry-point to older techniques, making them even more accessible. There will be a point in the not too distant future, when cameras pick up anything we can see and anything we don’t — ISO, megapixel, aperture, and shutterspeed will be irrelevant buzzwords. The boom of point-and-shoot, iPhone photography has already made them feel like dusty terminology.  Eventually, painting, as outlandish as it may sound, will be dictated by what we think and imagine rather than what we can physically execute. We’re moving more and more towards a world where the ground floor to creating great artwork is being lowered through technology, and every facet of life is manipulated and designed.  Even chest hair.

It’s amazing how frightened artists can be of their “fields” converging with technology. People lambasted the latest Final Cut Pro video editing software for “dumbing down pro features,” but more so – it was threatening. It enabled mere rookies to access very intuitive and easy-to-use controls and to execute things which would have been incredibly complicated mere years ago. We have hipsters who call themselves “purists” for everything. I am a painter who uses a Wacom stylus. A person who digitally paints with only a mouse looks down on the stylus because it’s “easier.” People who do any digital painting are looked down on by digital photographers who are looked down on by manual photographers who are looked down on by traditional painters who are looked down on by writers, who are looked down on by writers with typewriters who are looked down on by writers with pens who are looked down on by writers with feathers and ink, all of whom are looked down on by street artists because everything sucks if it doesn’t have an obvious political message and is plastered over a public wall.  All of whom, of course, are looked down on by commercial artists.

It’s not that technology gets rid of previous mediums, it builds upon them, and I think it’s incredibly important that this continues because “art” has just about the loosest definition of any word. We literally live in a world where our own blood and excrement can belong in a museum if it’s wrapped in a sound bite explaining its purported depth and profundity.  Without new tools and techniques driving creativity in new generations, we will continue to just point to anything and declare it as high art.

When I paint digitally, I am granted an enormous amount of control. CTRL+Z can wipe away my mistakes, thousands of settings, sliders, rulers, guides, layers, and paths can assist in my ability to manipulate the medium. However, despite the thousands of tools available, I limit myself to only a few, simply because those are the ones that express my techniques and education in traditional painting. The only times I hit “undo” is when I smack my entire face into my keyboard from looking at YouTube comments, everything else I consider to be mistakes worth working over. It builds character (as every dad ever would say). I’m not trying to make my life harder by limiting myself.  After all, the difficulty of your medium doesn’t elevate it.  But I believe that as art and technology get all up inside one another, it’s important to be wary of the visual gimmick babies which rise up along the way.

3D, HDR, Tilt-shift, multiple-exposure, lens flare… these are some buzzwords which mostly pertain to the worlds of photography and video, but they run in parallel with illustration. Many artists look for visual hooks, something that brings individuation or “edge” to their work. It’s marketable, I’ll give it that, but it’s also transient when your style is no more than a fashion trend. In college, I had a teacher who told me something along the lines of: “Sam, design trends, fads, and gimmicks come and go, realism/classicism and the genres bent off of it won’t always be popular, they won’t always sell well, but they have always and likely will always be here to stay.” This stuck with me – not just on the illustrative plane, but looking at the photographers I’ve been able to work with, they ride down a similar path, working within the framework of reality. Bending the rules, but not breaking them just to find a “different” gimmick.

I was skeptical about continuing down this road. After all, most painters are taught realism initially and then they push into other styles. “Why would someone hire me to paint their portrait when they could get someone to take a picture that is quicker, more accurate, and possibly less expensive?” I thought. But in the two years I’ve been working, I’ve realized that speed, accuracy, and cost are shockingly relative terms.

Speed
A commissioned portrait typically takes at least 20 hours for me. Far more than it takes for someone to take a photo and edit it. However, I don’t require advanced lighting setups, assistants, hair and make-up, a specific location, expensive equipment, and taking thousands of photos to eventually select just one. A recent client, Donald Glover, had a packed schedule, as most celebrities do — I sidestepped this and met him out on the town.  I simply pulled him aside for 5 minutes, and snapped a few reference pictures from different angles in the dim light of the club with an entry-level DSLR.  And that was the extent of time I required of him or anyone else — the rest was Whisky. It still took many hours to paint, but the time and resources didn’t come from the client.

Accuracy
I work hard to try to capture a decent likeness. It’s no photograph, but with my limitations in technical ability at this stage in my life, I try to make up for in treatment and character. There’s no tutorial for these things, just practice. Where capturing individual pores and exact anatomy fall short, painting allows flexibility in accuracy. When I get reference, the lighting is irrelevant as the reference is to understand the form. I shoot around the figure rather than from one angle, so that I can learn their anatomy and how light hits it. Learning each person as a three dimensional entity enables client direction like “I’d like my eyes less happy.” Vague? Not really. When we smile, every muscle in our face adjusts slightly. Making eyes less happy involves being able to re-paint eye-lids, eye-brows, adjusting forehead crinkles, lowering cheeks, uncurling lips, and dozens of other tiny nuances. If my reference is of someone with their mouth open, and they want it closed, it takes some thinking.  But it can be done. The detachment from direct realism, that wiggle-room freed up by color treatment, loose brushstrokes, and texture, lets things like this flow naturally in a painting environment, while in photo manipulation/re-touching, such a thing can easily be botched and unrealistic.

Cost
Much like the relative displacement of time, cost works similarly. I charge more for a single image than most traditional commercial photographers (at my level of exposure) would, but people pay for the imagery and the rights, nothing else. There is no division or expenditures for location, production, sets, equipment, assistants, retouchers, etc. If someone wants the Sahara desert, some velociraptors, and spaceships in the background, painters get to just make those things up. It requires only one person’s time and energy, rather than the coordination of entire teams and sets.  As you can imagine, the economics of one person over many can be vastly different.

Connection
All of the pros and cons of the aforementioned mediums and technologies meet at the same place with the same question: How do you share them with the world? Well, since you’re reading this, you are probably familiar with The Internet. The Internet is the single most powerful tool available to the public. It wasn’t always that way, but right now, I can get on my computer, in any area of the world with a connection, and I can share my work, my thoughts, news, ideas, and process with anyone who cares to listen. I can put a single image online and track it as it virally trickles and booms across various websites – finding its way into millions of eyeballs.

I don’t believe that anyone with an Internet connection can find success, but I do believe that the barriers which separate someone who wants it and who can have it are largely diminished by the web. Anyone who is willing to treat their craft like they’re a doctor or a lawyer, putting in exhaustive hours like their creative job matters just as much as any other, I believe they can find success.  I firmly believe that we live in a time where actual effort met with a basic understanding of social media can sustain us. There are always excuses. Timing, connections, and luck are words people love to throw around for reasons why they haven’t found a footing. With the Web at your finger-tips, those factors are greatly reduced. It’s you, your work, your commitment to improving it, and the power to share it. It’s not an instantaneous process nor one that fits into quick-fix culture, but it’s one where your name can be found and explode through “likes” and “retweets” instead of yearly contests/awards and knowing just the right people.

Closure
We live in a digital renaissance that many disregard because of gossip blogs and cat .gifs. However, technology has allowed generations, new and old, to find ways to create fresh and exciting things from both revolutionary and evolutionary methodologies, and share them in unprecedented ways. Within a single piece of software, I have infinite canvases, brushes, colors, and layers. Nothing has to dry. Nothing has to be coated or prepped. When I pick up my stylus, I waste no time on the monotony of tertiary painting elements — they have been synthesized and streamlined into nearly instantaneous aspects of my work flow allowing me to jump in and create.

There are simple advantages of digital mediums which aren’t up for debate, but within every fiber of the toolset, the tablet, and the software, lies a foundation built by traditional painters, and for that reason, it’s important to not look back at what came before as obsolete. Technology and art are converging — what we can make, and how we make it are expanding at a rapid pace — but old mediums aren’t simply dying.

Why? Because not everything old is broken. I can’t achieve the smell, texture, and true organic nature of oil paint. No amount of slapped-on filters can make a digital photo look like a true tintype. No preset font looks quite like hand-written pen and ink calligraphy. That’s not permanent. Eventually, consumer printers will be able to print the three dimensional depth and texture maps along with a painting. Fully simulated chemicals and physics will enable digital ink to bleed and flow naturally while photos become instantaneously exposed and treated as if in a real dark room. These things aren’t unrealistic, they’re ideas built on readily-available technologies.

Do new mediums carry a stigma? Of course. Very rarely does the digital world find its way into the realms of “high art”, but it is trickling in as digital artists develop new ways to assign pseudo-symbolism to what we do.

Perhaps there’s no grand symbolism to my work to elevate it to the elusive “high art” status, I can’t say there are any deep emotions or bursting geysers of self-expression, and my concepts are typically one-note and surface-level… but to say why I make things in this way with this medium for one simple reason:

I’m obsessed with the future and will likely spend my life hurdling towards it, always looking over my shoulder.

(via samspratt)

Sometimes I “unwind” by just making things with absolutely no goal or reference point. Just lay down some brush strokes and see what my imagination turns it into. 9 times out of 10 that means a weird creature. Fire and drool make their triumphant returns.

I recorded (some weirdly compressed) video of the beginning greyscale portion so you can see how the randomness begins to form: HERE

The Difference Between A Wacom Pen Tablet and A Mouse

For people unfamiliar with digital art, the concept behind how it’s even done makes little sense but the really key thing that enables it, are wacom tablets. To illustrate this, here are just two examples of what using a pen over a mouse means using continuous brushstrokes. I think of it as: if a mouse is a pistol and a click is a bullet, a wacom pen is Iron Man and using it is like having a salvo of laser-guided fly-by-wire rockets… that play Black Sabbath. 

A mouse, you click once or click and hold, it has one degree of pressure. A wacom pen is like, well, a real pen or a brush, just much more versatile. The relation between the tablet surface and the pen is one that allows it to pick up how hard you’re pressing, the angle the pen is being held at, and the way it’s being rotated in your hands. This allows single brush strokes to control opacity, scatter, texture, thickness, color mixing, and direction. I give such basic examples, because I think it’s there that you can see: “This is what you can do with literally a 1 second brushstroke” Skill-level and experience are irrelevant to being able to do basic tasks like loosely mixing two colors and laying down a line.

EDIT: No, this post was not sponsored by Wacom. When the tools you use enable you to do what you love for a handsome living AND can help others who might not know about them, you can praise them without being paid to do so. Hell, even if you like something, you can praise it without being paid for it.

“Katniss” - portrait illustration by Sam Spratt

I had an abnormal influx of requests this week for a Hunger Games piece, so I decided to take a swing at it with a fairly dark and desperate tone.

Don’t forget to enter my contest to win a custom portrait painting tailored to you, as well as a chance to win a limited edition signed print of this.

Follow my: portfolio website,  tumblr,  facebook artist’s page and twitter.

“Paint ALL THE Memes” by Sam Spratt

2.5 hour speed-painting video:

My… twisted/”realistic” take on Allie Brosh’s hilarious and well-known “Clean all the things” meme—painting it how I see it rather than what it is probably supposed to be. All credit to the original character design goes to http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/  (My sincerest apologies for mutilating your creation, Allie). Music by the amazing Sarah Winters: 

The Smoker (~3hr) - Portrait Painting by Sam Spratt

View video time-lapse process HERE:

And since we’re on a Halo kick, here’s my other if you missed it.

“Remember Reach” Revisited - by Sam Spratt

Made for the launch of Halo Reach last year for Kotaku (see original here), I decided go back and rebuild it to a point I’m more satisfied with—emphasizing the repairs on the lighting, fire, and details.

Additionally I have made it available as a free 1080p wallpaper download HERE because I have a kind heart-like device inside me. 

If you like this painting, do follow me on tumblr (I follow back almost every person that follows me for the sake of not missing out on potential inspiration), or for the latest, I run a mean facebook artist’s page and a musing-filled twitter. 

(via samspratt)

“Trickle” - Portrait Painting by Sam Spratt

I’m not a poet so pardon this messy explanation—but there is this odd sensation when water meets your body, where the line between you and it blurs. It’s this unusual moment of cleansing where you shed your skin, your troubles, and your reality, for a second of calm, sublime, escape. Thanks to Maze Photography for providing reference.

Follow my: portfolio website,  tumblr,  facebook artist’s page and twitter. 

“Goddess” - Portrait Painting by Sam Spratt

In a determined attempt at mind over body, I’ve spent the past 3 days with a 103 degree fever feeling like utter hell—painting this portrait of my fever-ridden perception of a powerful female figure. Thanks to Lara Jade for being the model.

Fine-Art Prints Available Here!

Connect with my: portfolio website,  tumblr,  facebook artist’s page and twitter. 

“Husgi” - Illustration by Sam Spratt

Addition to “Cute and Creepy Creatures”. 3 years ago, my inspiration for getting into digital illustration was an illustrator named Bobby Chiu. His way of manipulating the digital medium in a 2d plane with a 3d feel became a goal of mine and pieces like this are my attempts at bringing that photo-real/pixar-look to my work. In this case, I had this idea of taking a Husky, Corgi, and a little bit of imagination—then crafting my own little canine creature in a simple environment.

Connect with my: portfolio website,  tumblr,  facebook artist’s page and twitter.