Why the Best Urban Sketches Aren't Always Accurate

One of the biggest misconceptions I see amongst beginners is the belief that a good sketch should be an accurate sketch.

It's understandable. We spend so much of our lives believing that drawing is about getting things "right" , straight lines, perfect perspective, every window in exactly the correct place. But urban sketching isn't architecture. It's storytelling.

The sketches that stay with us rarely do so because every measurement is correct. They stay with us because they remind us how a place felt.

You're recording an experience, not producing evidence

When I sketch on location, I'm surrounded by movement. People are walking past, buses arrive, the light changes every few minutes and shadows disappear almost as quickly as they arrive. If I waited for everything to stand still, I'd never finish a sketch.

Instead, I make decisions. Perhaps I'll move a lamp post so it doesn't clash with the building behind it. Maybe I'll exaggerate the lean of a row of terraced houses because it adds character. I might remove an entire parked van because, frankly, it contributes nothing to the story I want to tell. None of these decisions make the sketch less truthful.

In many ways, they make it more truthful.

Creative licence isn't cheating

Some people feel guilty about changing reality, as though they're somehow breaking the rules. But every artist edits. Photographers choose a lens. Writers leave out unnecessary details. Film directors decide where to place the camera.

Urban sketchers can make exactly the same kinds of choices. The goal isn't to reproduce every brick. It's to communicate atmosphere. If bending the perspective slightly creates more energy, do it. If making a doorway larger helps lead the viewer through the composition, do it. If introducing a splash of warmer colour captures the memory of a sunny afternoon, do it. These aren't mistakes. They're artistic decisions.

Ask yourself one simple question

Rather than asking:

"Is this accurate?"

Try asking:

"Does this feel like the place?"

Those are very different questions.

A sketch can be technically perfect and completely lifeless.

Another can contain wonky windows, uneven rooftops and exaggerated angles, yet instantly transport someone back to that street because it captures the rhythm, movement and personality of the location.

That's the sketch people remember.

Confidence comes from letting go

Ironically, the more we chase perfection, the tighter our drawings become.

• We hesitate.

• We over-correct.

• We erase.
  

Before long we've lost the spontaneity that attracted us to urban sketching in the first place. Giving yourself permission to simplify or alter a scene removes that pressure.

Instead of worrying about every tiny detail, you begin to notice the bigger picture: the light, the atmosphere, the shapes, the spaces between buildings and the flow of people through the scene. That's where expressive sketching really begins. Something I will cover in my new course.

A challenge for your next sketch

The next time you're drawing outdoors, deliberately change three things.

1. Move a tree.

2. Remove a parked car.

3. Enlarge an interesting doorway.

   
   

Or stretch the height of a church tower just enough to make it dominate the skyline.

See what happens. You'll probably discover that your sketch feels stronger, more balanced and perhaps surprisingly. and more believable.

Because urban sketching isn't about proving you've been somewhere.

It's about sharing what it was like to be there.

Why Your Urban Sketches Feel Wrong (And It’s Probably Not Your Drawing)

Have you ever started a street sketch full of enthusiasm, only to reach the halfway point and feel something isn’t quite working?

The buildings feel a little awkward.

The perspective feels uncertain.

The scene that looked exciting in front of you somehow feels flat on the page.

The natural reaction is to blame your drawing ability.

But often the problem isn’t that you can’t draw.

The problem is that you are trying to draw too much, too soon.

The secret to better urban sketching is learning what to ignore

When we stand in front of a busy street scene, our eyes are bombarded with information:

A beginner often tries to capture all of it.

But successful sketching is not about recording everything you see.

It is about understanding what makes the scene work.

Before I draw details, I am looking for:

• The biggest shapes

• The direction of the street

• The rhythm of the buildings

• The areas of light and shadow

• The elements that give the place its character

  
  

The details come later.

Perspective doesn’t have to be complicated

The word “perspective” can make people freeze. Many artists believe they need complex construction methods before they can confidently sketch buildings. But perspective is simply understanding how things sit in space. You are constantly making perspective decisions:

• Where is my eye level?

• Which way are these lines travelling?

• How do these shapes relate to each other?

When you understand these simple ideas, your drawings immediately start to feel more believable.

The difference between a drawing and a sketch

When I sketch a city scene, I am not trying to create a perfect architectural record.

I am trying to capture the feeling of being there:

The movement of a street. The character of a building.The energy of a place.

This is why loose, confident marks often create a stronger result than carefully controlled detail.

Three questions that will transform your next sketch

1. What is the story of this scene?

• What made you stop?

• Was it the shape of the buildings? The light? The atmosphere? The relationship between old and new architecture?

2. What are the simplest shapes?

• Reduce the scene.

• Forget the windows.

• Forget the decoration.

• Can you see the main blocks and spaces?

3. Where is the energy?|

A good sketch has movement.

• flowing lines

• repeated shapes

• interesting angles

• contrasts between solid and open space

The biggest breakthrough: stop trying to be accurate

Many people are waiting until they are “good enough” before they enjoy sketching.

But confidence comes from sketching. Not the other way around. The more you practise seeing simple structures, making decisions and trusting your marks, the more natural the process becomes.

This is exactly the approach I will teach inside my Sketch School — a practical, beginner-friendly system built around three key skills:

Simplify what you see. Learn how to break complex scenes into manageable shapes.

Draw with simple perspective. Create believable depth without getting lost in complicated rules.

Sketch with rhythm. Develop a looser, more expressive style using confident line and contour techniques.

If you have ever looked at a street scene and thought, “I wouldn’t know where to start,” this is where you begin.

Why I Never Start with the Details

One of the questions I'm asked more than any other is:

"How do you know where to start?"

Whether I'm sketching on a busy street in London or painting a larger studio piece, my answer is always the same.

I don't start with the details. In fact, I actively avoid them.

When we're faced with an interesting urban scene it's incredibly tempting to begin with the things that caught our eye in the first place, the ornate windows, the shop signs, the people or perhaps an old doorway full of character.

The problem is that details rarely hold a drawing together.

They decorate it. The structure comes first.

Learning to see the big picture

One of the biggest breakthroughs in my own drawing happened when I stopped trying to draw things and started looking for relationships.

• How tall is that building compared with its neighbour?

• Where does the street disappear?

• Which roofline creates the strongest movement across the page?

• What are the biggest shapes before I worry about the smallest ones?

  
  

These simple questions completely changed the way I approached drawing.

The more I simplified what I was looking at, the more convincing the finished sketch became.Ironically, by drawing less, the work began to say much more.

The hidden framework

When people look at one of my paintings they often comment on the expressive line work or the loose washes of colour.

What they don't usually notice is the quiet framework underneath.

Before any colour goes down, I'm already thinking about:

• the direction of the space

• the balance of the composition

• the rhythm created by repeating shapes

• where I want the viewer's eye to travel

  
  

These decisions are largely invisible, but they are what make the expressive marks feel believable rather than random.

Leave something for the viewer

As artists we sometimes feel responsible for explaining everything.

• Every brick.

• Every window.

• Every architectural detail.

But viewers enjoy participating in a painting. Give them enough information to recognise the place, then allow their imagination to fill the gaps. That is where atmosphere begins.

For me, drawing has never been about creating an architectural record. It's about capturing the feeling of standing in that place on that particular day or the changing light, the movement of people, the rhythm of the street and the energy that exists between the buildings.

That's what keeps me returning to urban landscapes. Not because they are complicated.

But because they remind me that simplicity is often the hardest thing to achieve.

And perhaps that's why I still begin every sketch in exactly the same way...

Not with the details. But with the spaces between them.