Do you struggle getting someone's likeness just right?
Maybe you can get there, but it takes longer than you'd like. Maybe you're working under a deadline and don't have three hours to spend nudging someone's nose around. Or maybe likenesses just aren't your thing.
I've got an answer for you.
Cheat.
Yes, that's right. Trace it.
Before somebody starts typing furiously in the comments, hear me out.
Tracing the human image goes all the way back to one of the oldest stories we have about the origins of drawing.
The Roman writer Pliny the Elder tells the story of a young woman in ancient Corinth whose lover was leaving. A lamp cast his shadow against a wall, and she traced the outline of his face so she'd have something to remember him by.
Is it historical fact? We don't know. It's an origin story.
But think about what that story says. One of the earliest explanations Western culture came up with for the invention of drawing was essentially:
Somebody traced somebody else.
Apparently we've been cheating from the beginning.
Artists have continued finding better ways to do it ever since.
The camera obscura allowed artists to project an image of the world onto a surface where it could be studied and drawn. Canaletto, the great 18th-century painter of Venice, is known to have used one as part of his process. Other artists, including Vermeer and Van Eyck, have long been suspected of using optical aids, although exactly what they used and how they used them is still debated.
And then photography came along and really gave artists something to cheat with.
Norman Rockwell is one of my all-time heroes.
And Norman Rockwell traced.
Rockwell staged elaborate photo shoots for his illustrations. He directed his models, selected costumes and props, worked out expressions and poses, and took photographs that gave him the raw material he needed.
Then he used an opaque projector called a Balopticon to project those photographs onto his drawing surface. He could enlarge them, reduce them, move things around, combine elements and trace what he needed.
Maxfield Parrish used photography and projected imagery as part of his process, too. He photographed friends, family members and even himself, then used those images as building blocks for his illustrations.
Andy Warhol openly used photographic tracing and projection. Nobody looks at a Warhol and wonders whether he knew how to operate a pencil without a photograph underneath it.
You see a Warhol.
That's the point.
Tracing was part of their process. It wasn't the idea.
Early in my career, I worked with a fairly well-known illustrator/designer. I'll call him Jim.
Jim was creating an illustration for me, and we were on a deadline. A real deadline—the kind where the job had to get finished because eventually somebody was waiting to put the thing on a printing press.
At some point, Jim told me something I've remembered ever since.
How you get the image you want doesn't really matter.
As long as you're not ripping off another artist or photographer, use whatever legitimate tools you need. What matters is the finished work.
And sometimes speed matters.
Especially when you're a professional illustrator with a deadline.
That stuck with me.
I trace a lot of my images.
There. I said it.
Sometimes I'm working from photographs I've taken myself. Other times I'll work from multiple reference images, combining and changing things until I've created a person, animal, object or location that isn't represented by any single photograph.
Tracing gets me information I need quickly.
But here's the important part:
The reference doesn't make the marks. I do.
It doesn't decide what to exaggerate. It doesn't decide what to simplify. It doesn't decide whether the drawing should be funny, majestic, nostalgic or a little strange.
It doesn't choose my line.
It doesn't choose my shapes.
It doesn't choose my colors.
It doesn't decide what to leave out.
I do.
Sometimes I'll trace something and then immediately start changing it because what is photographically accurate isn't necessarily what makes the best illustration.
The reference is information.
What I do with that information is the art.
Now, before somebody takes all of this to mean I'm telling young artists they don't need to learn how to draw, I'm saying exactly the opposite.
I've actually taught drawing at the collegiate level.
I believe learning to draw—and more importantly, learning to see—is incredibly important.
You need to understand proportion. Perspective. Gesture. Form. Light. Anatomy. You need to develop the ability to look at something and understand why it looks the way it does.
Those skills don't become irrelevant because you trace.
They actually make you better at it.
Knowing how to draw allows you to recognize when a photograph is misleading you. You know when anatomy needs adjusting, perspective needs changing or something technically accurate simply doesn't look right.
Learn to draw.
Learn your craft.
But knowing how to draw doesn't mean you have to prove it with every single illustration you make.
Sometimes you just need to get the damn likeness right and move on.
I think this is where younger artists can get themselves tied in knots.
There's an idea floating around that doing something the hardest possible way somehow makes the result more legitimate.
I don't buy it.
If you're creating a portrait and struggling for hours to get the likeness right, what exactly have you accomplished by refusing to trace it?
If those extra hours make the drawing better, great. Spend them.
But if tracing the basic likeness lets you move on to expression, composition, color, storytelling and all the other decisions that actually make the illustration yours, why wouldn't you?
You don't get extra artistic points because something took twice as long.
And if you're working professionally, your client certainly isn't paying you extra because you made the job unnecessarily difficult.
They're paying you to solve a visual problem.
Solve it.
I know somebody is going to ask this.
If I'm okay with photography, projectors, tracing and digital tools, why do I draw the line at generative AI?
For me, the distinction is pretty simple.
I once heard animator and artist Aaron Blaise answer a question about AI in a way that really stuck with me. I'm paraphrasing, but his point was essentially this: he got into this business because he wanted to create his own stories, make his own drawings and create his own art. He wouldn't want another person doing that work for him, so why would he want AI doing it?
I had the privilege of meeting Aaron many years ago. Great guy. And when I heard him say that, it resonated with me.
I make art because I like making art.
I don't want AI coming up with my poster ideas. I don't want it generating reference images for me. I don't want it showing me how another artist might solve the problem.
That's the part I enjoy.
Why would I give it away?
Tracing doesn't take that away from me. It's simply a tool that helps me get from the idea in my head to the finished image more efficiently.
I'm still making the decisions.
I'm still making the marks.
I'm still making the art.
Now, I do use AI on the business side of running my studio. Emails, proposals, marketing, strategy, social media—there are plenty of jobs involved in running a small business that aren't the reason I became an artist.
AI helps me with some of those things. And believe me, I disagree with it. A lot.
But when it comes to the creative process behind my artwork, I want to do the work.
That's where I've chosen to draw my line.
Every artist is going to have to decide where theirs is.
So if you're a young artist struggling with a likeness, here's my advice.
Take the reference photo.
Trace it.
Then draw.
Change things. Push things. Simplify things. Exaggerate things. Make choices. Use everything you've learned about drawing and everything you've developed through your own particular way of seeing the world.
Make it yours.
There will always be someone willing to tell you that you're doing it wrong. Let them.
Sometimes we really don't need to know how the sausage is made.
We just want to eat it and enjoy it.
Your job isn't to prove that you can draw every line freehand.
Your job is to make the image you saw in your head.
And if tracing helps you get there, go ahead.
Trace it.
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