It seems to me that many artists, whether painters or draftsmen, focus primarily on the subject they depict. Their goal is often to reveal its meaning, even in abstract compositions, where objects—such as a square or a brushstroke—still serve as representations. An artist might claim that a brushstroke expresses an emotion, making the painting a depiction of that feeling. In this way, much of fine art revolves around the subject matter.

For me, however, the subject is secondary, even though I depict it with precision. My true focus is on exploring the act of drawing itself. I see drawing as a method of projecting an object onto a two-dimensional plane, and it is the essence of this projection that interests me. This is why I avoid impulsive techniques, as they introduce unnecessary noise into my work. One might assume that a computer would be better suited to such an approach, yet I find myself drawn to a traditional, often overlooked technique—one that I deeply appreciate and would like to share with you.

Ink Wash Technique

This classic technique originated in China. It involves applying thin, almost invisible layers of ink to paper, allowing each to dry before adding the next. As the layers accumulate, they create a soft airy image. If a layer isn’t fully dry before the next is applied, the result becomes uneven and flawed.

When this technique reached Europe, it became widely used for illustrating scientific books requiring high detail, as well as for archaeological and architectural drawings. Architectural visualization, in particular, saw its most extensive use. Throughout the 18th, 19th, and early 20th centuries, both professional architects and students relied on this method. In fact, an entire class of "Paper Architects" emerged—those who never built anything but dedicated themselves entirely to architectural drawing. One such figure, Jean-Jacques Lequeu, remains unparalleled in this field. He was a contemporary of Mozart, a fact I mention only to provide historical context.

Sketching

I begin by freely moving my pencil across the paper, searching for an idea and developing a sketch. For me, the sketch is the most valuable part of the process—if not for the need to present a final work, I would happily stop there.

I often start with a square, dividing it into sections—halves, thirds, ninths—before adding circles, partial circles, or arcs. These elements might not appear in the final piece, but they guide the composition. My work is always strictly geometric; every drawing follows this fundamental principle. The sketching phase can take a long or short time, depending on the piece, but eventually, a design emerges.

Drawing

Once the sketch is complete, I decide on its final size—most often a 1x1 meter square—and stretch watercolor paper onto a wooden panel. This involves soaking the paper in cold water so it expands, then gluing it to the panel's edges while still wet. As it dries, it tightens, ensuring a perfectly flat surface. This method prevents the curling seen in watercolor works where the paper isn’t stretched.

With the paper prepared, I begin drawing using a sharpened pencil, ruler, and rapidograph. During this stage, I gather detailed information about the subject. While the object itself isn’t my primary concern, I meticulously study it to achieve a high level of detail. The complex perspectives I use demand careful examination and understanding of the form.

Shadows

Shading is a particularly intriguing phase. Sometimes, it results in intricate networks of thin pencil lines. Shadows play a crucial role in my compositions—often shaping the image as much as, if not more than, the objects themselves.

Returning to my perspective on drawing as projection: objects on paper are projections onto a flat plane, while shadows represent projections of complex forms onto other complex forms before being transferred onto the final surface. This layered projection is a source of endless fascination for me, inspiring both my compositions and my reflections on art. While not everyone may grasp the underlying descriptive geometry, I am content to let this aspect remain subtly embedded within the work.

Ink Wash Application

Once the drawing is complete, I rinse the paper under running water to remove excess grease—a step possible only with stretched paper. While it dries, I prepare several ink washes in glass jars, typically five, ranging from nearly imperceptible tones to medium shades.

Ink washing is the most technically challenging and time-intensive stage. Mastering it requires a deep understanding of both drawing and painting fundamentals. I have briefly described the technique earlier, but it truly demands years of practice.

While working on one of my pieces, I recorded a time-lapse video, which you can see in the background...