Howard John Arey’s Daily Commute
December 5th, 2011 § 2 Comments
When I first had the idea to start ArtAttackNYC, I knew instantly I wanted Howard Arey and his artwork to be my first post. I’ve known Howard for, well, let’s just say a long time now. When I was a newbie to New York, I befriended his wife (though she wasn’t his wife at the time), and the three of us bonded quickly. I would describe Howard as a modern day, old-fashioned kind of guy with a wide array of passions. I was first introduced to Howard’s talent for drawing through his comic book art but one day, most likely over drinks and a good science-fiction conversation, I got a glimpse of his sketchbook filled with portraits he had taken to drawing on his daily commute. Immediately I was struck by Howard’s ability to capture a character’s essence so clearly and consistently. As I turned the pages, I found each portrait just as engaging as the previous. Continuing to thumb through the sketchbook, I began noticing the lines and detail. These drawings of fellow commuters started to come alive before my eyes. We pass thousands of unnamed faces every day, never giving them a second thought. It was affecting to have the ability to look at these portraits, really look at them, anonymously from Howard’s point of view. He doesn’t just draw a portrait with pen on paper; he creates an atmosphere and tells a story.
Confirmation that my instinct to ask Howard to partake in this endeavor was a sound one came the day he showed up at my door carrying two Duane Reade shoppers filled to the brim with sketchbooks. We sat for a while chatting, perusing, and choosing the sampling you see here, which barely scratches the surface of the artwork in his commuting cache. Howard John Arey may travel within an art world of his own, but that world never lacks in its inspirational offerings.
Me: How long have you been drawing during your commutes and why portraits?
HJ:I started them a few years ago, mainly because it’s that commuting time I can count on to focus on drawing. Morning and evening combined, the commute is about two hours — less than I’d like to spend each day drawing, but plenty better than nothing. My original motive was that my skills shouldn’t atrophy, that I not go days on end without setting pen to paper. So the subject matter is, to some extent, determined by circumstance; like if I lived in a fishbowl… I’d have lots and lots of drawings of little plastic castles.
I share the consensus view that people are more interesting-looking and appropriate subjects of art than plastic castles, especially so on public transportation. That’s where people tend to sit relatively still, almost like models in life drawing classes but not as often naked. Fidgeting is a scourge invented by the devil to vex me, specifically; digital devices are a godsend. People stare at them enrapt, and I can watch and draw a person for ten minutes without them moving more than a thumb.
Me: What motivates you to keep drawing and not succumb to those digital devices yourself?
HJ: My motivation for this activity is a lot like when I went to the dentist last year and she told me if I didn’t take better care of my teeth, they’d start falling out. I started flossing and started using Listerine the minute I got home. I’ve barely stopped since and now I get good marks from the dental authorities. Similarly, when I realized I wasn’t finding any time to work (art-wise), and vividly pictured myself bitter and regretful at the end of my life, my talents wasted, all that sad stuff, I started drawing furiously… on the bus, on the PATH train, the subway. And when I don’t — when I neglect it — I feel like a complete dirtbag, just like when I don’t floss. Besides, if you do something every day for enough time, it’s hard not to get better at it. Also, if you live a life of burden and responsibility, as I do (cue violins), these modest successes can be sustaining. The time spent drawing is frequently a high point of my day . . . by which I mean, the drawing is really, really fun. (Not that the time spent otherwise is unfailingly crummy, so enough with the violins!)
Me:You mention the distraction of digital devices being a godsend for you but there must be some who take notice and, if they do, are they generally receptive? Indifferent? Or… other?
HJ: This being New York and New Jersey, loci of the easily-excitable and wary-unto-paranoia, you’d think this habit would have led to numerous interactions with my fellow commuters, not all of them pleasant, but au contraire. I’m so typically ignored by my “subjects” that it’s quite frankly insulting. Exceptions include: the guy at Union Street, who took the train’s extended, open-doored wait at the station to rat me out to the rest of the people in the car. Standing in the doorway, he, who may have thought I was from the government, yelled, “Hey! Everybody! This guy’s drawing you! Look out! Yeah! This asshole!”[gestures toward yours truly].
More happily, there was a guy just a couple weeks ago who came up to me at the PATH platform at Journal Square and said, “Hi, I see you out here many times, drawing people . . . you do these drawings so fast, very accurate (it pains me to sound boastful, but I’m quoting)… maybe sometime you do a drawing for me, hm?”And I was like, oh, thank you very much, kind of you to say, and I murmured something like, yeah, sure, I just might, while, shy as I am, I was trying to engineer a good slinking-away. But he wouldn’t have it and kept suggesting that I should draw him. When the train arrived, after a minute or so of this, he said, “okay, we’ll do it on the train.” Yes, sir! (ulp) So I ended up drawing him for the eight-minute ride, me sketching furiously and him standing rigorously still.
Thankfully the drawing came out pretty well. I showed it to him, and gave it to him, and he was impressed and pleased. And the morning after next, I see him again on the platform, and he shows me his iDevice, with a scan my drawing of him on it. He tells me he scanned it and put it on his Facebook page just that morning, and already three of his friends had “liked” it. I have to admit, that made me feel pretty good. And since then, every morning I’ve been asking him, “how many of your friends like it now, how many now??,” and now he avoids me. So, you don’t have to actually slink away to eventually be left alone. I kid.
Me: Do you have any ideas what the future holds for your art?
HJ: Well, you might remember that a number of years ago I was doing comic strips on a . . . sort of regular basis? Not many per year, to be honest, but there was a steady yet absurdly slow drumbeat of my comics going out into the world. (It would probably surprise a lot of people in the comics community to know that I haven’t given up on that as one of my life’s major pursuits.)
This sketchbook drawing has been helping with that — as in, when I practice strip writing and drawing, secretly, in my other sketchbooks, I see that I’m getting a boost from the drafting practice the commute drawing provides. These commute sketches are done quickly and without drafts or correction, ever-so-gradually instilling in me habits of working more confidently and with some quickness of wit and boldness… all qualities that are far from indigenous to my Nation of One. So that’s what I’d like to do/take another run at, narrative comic strips.A couple years of this drawing-from-observation has me feeling pretty good about my drafting and illustrating; now I want to see if I’ve got any stories in me. Oh, but, make no mistake, I’m also always up for illustration work. Ahem!
Here’s a small glimpse into Howard’s multitude of sketchbooks – reflections of the artistic landscape that is his daily commute.
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Love Howard’s art, loved hearing about his process, and looking forward to soaking up the next offering! What a good idea – to shine a light on creativity shimmering just beneath the surface, to give a peek behind the curtain of drudgery to see how people are inspiring themselves…
Thank you, Grace, for such a supportive and thoughtful response. I’m glad you enjoyed it.