issue 4. 2020 | golf digest 95relaxed prep▶I’m a graphic artist,
and the entire week
I was giddy, enjoying
the unique design of
the event. Practice
days are a chance for
spectators to observe
the stars in a low-key
atmosphere.when
I draw landscapes,
my strategy usually
consists of observing,
filtering what I
see through my
mind, using a very
subjective process
to create order from
chaos, and then
re-creating this
new reality in two
dimensions with ink
strokes on paper.
I’ve never seena landscape as
carefully designed
as the golf course
in Augusta. Every
angle, every detail
seems considered.
The fairways,
bunkers and greens
collaborate as
perfect abstract
compositions. I hate
to admit it, but my
first impression was,
I’m walking into
one of my drawings.
I spent the next
couple of days at the
Masters observing
a little harder than
I generally have
to, searching for
the unexpected
connections in the
perfectly planned
environment.
I’m far from an expert on
golf, but the core challenge of
the sport has many elements
that I can relate to.
When I start a drawing, I
have a pretty tight idea of what
I want to visualize. The objects
are trees and hills and people,
but what triggers me are
abstract systems—an unusual
composition of large and
small. Objects that obscureeach other in a surprising way
or an unexpected connection
of utterly unrelated elements.
I need to start with
bravado: The composition,
the rendering, the colors
need to be daring to ruffle
the expectation of the viewer.
But if I go too far, I end up with
a confusing mess. No matter
what the plan is, the moment
the brush touches the paper,
everything changes. The idea
in my mind is different from
what materializes on the page.
When my imagination hits
the reality of the rendering,