Drawing pictures with and without vision

Soon after S.B. had regained vision, after more than five decades of blindness, his wife gave him his first ballpoint pen. He wrote his name and drew a cobbler’s chipping hammer. Whether drawing his own house from memory, a bus he had just seen, or a farmhouse from imagination; S.B. incorporated features that he knew from haptic touch. For example, cartwheels on the bus instead of hub wheels: S.B. knew the feel of cartwheels, not of hub wheels. However, six months later, and with gained visual experience, S.B. replaced his cartwheels. (See Gregory & Wallace, 1969, Figures 9-14.) Surely, S.B. transferred information from haptic touch to vision when he was drawing pictures: combining circles, rectangles, and squares in different sizes. (See our blog for the scientific approach and the crossmodal correspondences between the senses).


I have invited Professor John M. Kennedy, University of Toronto to write this blog post. John M. Kennedy has written numerous books and articles on pictures in vision and touch: he argues that lines are the “nuts and bolts of universals in perception”.  


But first, John challenges and inspires us to try drawing without vision.

 

Try this in touch: Drawing

– Perhaps the ice age people who made the very first drawings said “We didn’t know we could do this!”

– For sure, some blind people I asked to draw for me said “I don’t think I can do this.”

– I said, in effect, “Take up thy pen and draw.” And they did. And said “I didn’t know I could do this!”


They were drawing on plastic sheets with ball point pens. The sheets rested on rubber-coated pads, like mouse pads. The pens made rough lines they could feel.


They drew hands, cups, wine glasses and chairs. All were tactile pictures, made of raised lines.


Ambitious people drew a man from in front, an insect from above and a dog from the side. Just to be clear – these were tactile pictures.


Let’s consider a challenge. Imagine taking up the ball-point and the pad, and, without any vision whatsoever, try this just purely from your mind’s own vantage point.


– Draw a singer pouring out love and radiating glory.

– Draw a monster that has emerged from a lake, horns and claws and spiny backbone dripping wet.

– Draw a cup so filled with memories it bubbles and pops and spills out irrepressibly.

– Draw a car with its brakes pulling it screeching to a halt so abruptly the tyres deform.


If your imagination succeeds at some or all of these drawing topics, then know this. Blind adults and children who grew up without drawing and took to sketching later in life, and sometimes only shortly before tackling these imaginary scenes, invented pictures – tactile pictures — that fit the bill. (See Kennedy, 2014, Figure 2 – singer pouring out love and radiating glory – and Figure 1 – cups so filled with memories it bobbles and pops and spills out irrepressibly.)


It is only recently that we realized pictures are not just for vision and the people who are fully sighted, as tactile pictures they are also for touch and for those who were born totally blind. Drawing is for the eye and the hand.

 

Learning lines: Shape and outline

Skill at line drawing develops in pretty similar ways in people who are sighted and people who are blind. Lines are tangible as well as visual of course, but so too are the blocks and creatures we like to draw. We can feel a cat or a dog or a hamster. At first, we have to tell people what we have sketched, but clear unmistakeable shapes do emerge eventually if we keep at it. Consider the path drawing development usually takes for the hand and the eye alike.


At first, drawing novices, feeling their work or looking at it, often learn to make tactile and optical marks by scribbling, and then they may very shortly begin controlling straight and curved lines and enclosures such as circles. Perhaps soon after, scenes with flat objects like hands or knives, or long slim sticks like bananas and bulky objects like oranges and heads and houses become favoured topics. The timeline between scribbles and recognizable forms for young children – a year or two or three — is highly compressed for older beginners – sometimes mere minutes or an hour perhaps.


Soon after mastering the basics of scribbling, blind and sighted novices put to work some lines actually representing something. A complete beginner may simply make a random mark and announce what it stands for: “It’s Grandpa!”


According to John Willats, circles are drawn to mean solid objects three-dimensional like balls and boxes, roughly symmetrically extended in space. Snakes and rods and branches that are long and slim are what fairly straight lines mean to this novice.


Next in development, once the shape of objects like books and chocolate bars can be shown, things mostly extended in two dimensions, squares and rectangles and triangles and the like are used. A cube would be shown as a square, a single face, by these early artists.


Faces on the sides of objects begin to be added next. Learning to pick a side that faces the observer brings the issue of the vantage point on the object to mind. This means perspective, and questions of many kinds, solved in lots of ways by eager minds.


Outline drawing is a skill that ice-age artists manifested. We usually think of these as visual works. But lines in outline drawings mean the same thing to the blind as they do to the sighted. Drawings made in the flickering half-light of caves may have meant a great deal to the hands of the ancient art workers, not just to the eyes. Lines are tools to make shapes. The toolkit of outlines is tiny. Ice age artists discovered the kit. Its results are infinite. Its combinations picture the many, many objects of our world.


Ice-age artists drew lines standing for borders of surfaces. They showed occlusion and foreground surfaces ending with a background. Aboriginal artists in Australia used lines similarly. Outline is universally understood. It is a birthright of our species, and others besides.


The birthright of humanity is outline in vision, but it is also outline in touch. Lines in outline drawings mean the same edges to the eye and the hand, the psychology of vision and the psychology of touch. We discovered their powers and capabilities in ice-age times for vision, it may be, but in this generation we are uncovering their functions are also just as deliberate in the psychology of touch.


John has also very kindly suggested some useful readings for us:

Carboni, S., & Kennedy, J. M. (2020). Eyes outside a boundary line: an example of the Willats region-drawing theory? Perception, 49(7), 793-795, https://doi.org/10.1177/0301006620929473

Eriksson, Y. (1998). Tactile pictures. Lund: Lund University Press.

Fabris, M., Lange-Kuettner, C., Shiakou, M., & Longobardi, C. (2023). Editorial: Children’s drawings: evidence-based research and practice. Frontiers of Psychology. Section Educational Psychology, 14, https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2023.1250556

Kennedy, J. M. (1993). Drawing and the blind: Pictures to touch. New Haven: Yale Press.

Rubin, E. (1915). Visually experienced figures [Synsoplevede figurer]. Copenhagen: Gyldendal, Nordisk Forlag.

Willats, J. (2005). Making sense of children’s drawings. London: Erlbaum.


See our blog for Activities; especially 16-18.

Sensory mismatch

Even though S.B. had regained his vision, after more than fifty years of blindness, he always closed his eyes in traffic. He continued to function as if he was still blind.


But why? Does information about traffic not transfer from one sense to another? (See our blog for the scientific approach and the crossmodal correspondences between the senses.)


Without vision, S.B. would be used to listening for human activity and unique spatial characteristics when identifying an area, such as conversations about fish and the openness of the sea. He would be helped by echoes of his own sounds and sounds that stand out from the background, like a fan in a quiet street. (See how The Oxford Sound Album started.) S.B. would have listened for contrasting sounds. And enjoy echoes in narrow places; Walking up Queen’s Lane and New College Lane, constantly varying soft sounds; on Radcliffe Square on an early summer morning, and quiet but informative places; Walking inside the University Church of St. Mary the Virgin. Nonetheless, he may have been inspired by the chaotic sounds while Walking through Clarendon Centre. Rain and snow mask information: making it hard, for example, to determine the speed of cars and the distance to a building. To be able to navigate in chaotic and masked sounds, S.B. would have had to tap harder with his white cane to create a better echo against walls, bushes, and poles at pedestrian crossings. But the rain would also help him hear silent objects, like parked bikes and street furniture.


S.B. was experienced in listening for, paying attention to, and intervening with sounds in traffic, and he would have added tactile information too (typically from his white cane, face, and feet) about surfaces, obstructions, and gradients. So, what changes with vision?


Had S.B. started using vision alone, then he would constantly be looking for shapes, for example, in the city skyline, colours, and textures on the Royal Mile. He would have enjoyed how the sunlight enhanced and changed the shapes. As well as three-dimensional architecture and movement, like bay windows and passersby. He would have received information about human activities and danger from signs only.


Indeed, using vision alone, S.B. would be looking for and paying attention to some of the same information about traffic as when he was blind, namely shapes and surfaces/textures; however, not intervene with it. So, again, why did S.B. after having regained vision continue to function in traffic as when he was blind?


There seem to be two possible explanations. One is that when people combine vision and hearing, paying attention to visual shapes reduces their attention to sound and vice versa. S.B. then, who was so very experienced in paying attention to the sounds in traffic, would not have focused on any visual information regardless of whether his eyes were open or closed. Perhaps not even knowing they were closed. Or perhaps getting so confused by the visual information that he closed them. The other explanation is that when people combine visual and auditory information, they tend not to pay attention to either unless the two match. For S.B. a match may never have been possible: he was too experienced in hearing.


Now challenging and inspiring us to use hearing alone, vision alone, and both senses together:

Hearing Princes Street – St David Street

Seeing Princes Street – St David Street

Hearing and seeing Princes Street – St David Street

 

Hearing inside a coffee shop

Seeing inside a coffee shop

Hearing and seeing inside a coffee shop

 

Hearing Princes Street

Seeing Princes Street

Hearing and seeing Princes Street

 

Hearing Victoria Street

Seeing Victoria Street

Hearing and seeing Victoria Street


See our blog for Activities; especially 13-15.


         Some suggestions for further listening and reading:

Herssens, J., Roelants, L., Rychtáriková, M., & Heylighen, A. (2011). Listening in the Absence of Sight: The Sound of Inclusive Environments. Proceedings of Include 2011, 10-17.

Sabourine, C. J., Merrikhi, Y., & Lomber, S. G. (2022). Do blind people hear better? Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 26(11), 999-1012.

Schafer, R. M. (1994). The Soundscape: Our Sonic Environment and the Tuning of the World. Rochester, Vermont: Destiny Books.

Southworth, M. (1969). The Sonic Environment of Cities. Environment and Behavior, 1(1), 49-70.

Stein, B. E., & Meredith, M. A. (1993). The merging of the senses. Cambridge: The MIT Press.

The Oxford Sound Album

The World Soundscape Project