ABSTRACT

We have seen that a hand that tells is also one that feels and draws. Is all drawing, then, a way of telling by hand? Yes and no, depending on what you mean by drawing. And that depends, in turn, on what you want to compare drawing with – that is, on what you want to say it is not. If, for example, you want to compare drawing with writing, you might be interested in the limits of language or syntax, or in whether any hard and fast distinctions can be made between verbal and non-verbal inscriptions. If you were comparing it with sculpture, you might be interested in the difference between working with line and working with surface or volume, or between scribing and carving. Comparison with painting might lead to reflections on the difference between marking a surface and covering it or between line and colour; whereas comparison with photography would undoubtedly lead one to think about what it takes to make an image, and about the temporality of drawing as against the relative instantaneity of the photograph. Comparison with music would lead to a focus on the expressive gesture and its duration, but would also bring up the question of what difference it makes when the gesture leaves no enduring trace at all. Each comparison would prompt a somewhat different characterisation of drawing. They may share a family resemblance, but it would be unrealistic to expect them to converge upon a single, essential definition that holds once and for all.