The instructor, Louis Priscilla, was a fiery Italian dressed in a light grey suit (in a class all working in charcoal?). He drew like Michelangelo. It was amazing watching him draw. I wanted to draw like that. He saw my first futile attempts (I was 12) and assigned me to a daunting task.
"You see that window over there?" I nodded. "Next Saturday, you get here before anyone else, move the drawing table in front of the window and have pencils, t-square, triangle and your newsprint pad all ready, OK?" I nodded.
So the next Saturday I arrived early, did as he demanded and waited. Priscilla showed up, saw me dutifully waiting and came over. Without a word, he leaned over, then raised the huge window so I could see out.
He said, "Draw that!!!" it was ALL OF MANHATTAN!!! As far as the eye could see. Building after building after building after... He wanted to see if I knew perspective & could draw what I saw. Whew!
It took me a month of Saturdays. But I did a credible job using my knowledge of perspective. He didn't care if I was totally accurate. He wanted to see if I was up to the task and knew the principle. Perspective lines were below AND above the eye level so one had to know how to show that. Hey, perspective wasn't discovered until Brunelleschi figured it out around 1450 AD.
Finally, he said, "OK, now you can move to the "minor leagues" which meant working on a Michelangelo statue of the "Dying Slave". No small task either.
That also took me almost a month of Saturdays. This was all instead of playing ball with my school mates. Five years of Saturdays, winter, spring, summer, and fall.
I loved it.
