STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. -- Hard (but delicate) art-making under exacting conditions didn't faze John A. Noble (1913-1983).

For 15 years (1935-1950) early in his work-life, Noble went prospecting for topics by rowboat, from sight to site, in and around the harbor and nearby waterways. When he found something he liked, he pulled out a pencil or charcoal or crayon and paper and made a drawing.

Good thing he lived in New Brighton on the Kill van Kull, the busiest sea-lane in North America.

Motivated and original, Noble wasn't drawn to conventional marine presentations. He was happy to leave the vessel-sailing-over-the-bounding-main romance to other artists, although he found plenty of grandeur in his view of things. He loved ships, particularly wooden sailing ships. But he took them as he found them.

It didn't matter much if they were still afloat, which was almost never the case, or scuttled (abandoned) half-sunken and rotting away. In any condition, they had his rapt attention and respect.

Again, he couldn't have picked a better place to live. The in-land waterways of Staten Island's west and north shores are full of intricately disintegrating wrecks, not to mention the miles and miles of industrial waterfront in the vicinity.

"My Studio: A Selection of Drawings by John A. Noble, 1930-1950," a 20-piece selection of plein air (on the spot) renderings at the Noble Maritime Collection from now through fall, finds the artist in his element, drawing the ships, the work of the waterfront and the occasional spectacular vista, like the Statue of Liberty.

Noble, ever the iconoclast, sidled up to her from the rear, reasonable enough but hardly the standard approach, in a small boat, giving him a fresh vantage. Later he would use just such a view in his Miss Liberty lithograph "Pied et Paqueboat."

In many of the drawings, the artist's on-the-water vantage point is crucial: he's looking up and out at a big, big picture. The effect? The viewer is in the boat, seated next to him.

The drawings rely on broad, no-nonsense strokes, firm marks, not gossamer lines. Although he often used pencils, charcoal offered easier control, and if wind, choppy water, spray and rain were factors, as we know they must have been, they left no mark on the paper.

Waterfront activities (Bayonne's then-lively Port Johnston was a favorite spot) provided built-in dramatic possibilities and challenges. Calmer material came when he worked on views of his houseboat studio, the scavenged "saloon" he outfitted as an overnight workplace, with a galley, head (bathroom) and sleeping berth.

Today visitors can compare the drawn versions with the real thing. The Noble Collection rescued the cleverly organized, shipshape houseboat years ago, and now it sits inside its own gallery.

No such now-and-then is possible with most of the other drawings. The world Noble recorded in them is pretty much gone or very much altered. But drawings -- precisely applied marks on paper -- preserve the exact moment in which he stowed the oars and picked up a pencil.

Often, later, he consulted the rowboat investigations as background, resource material or inspiration.

Lucky us, we are welcome to enjoy them today, not as artifacts but as accomplished exercises in inspired draftsmanship.

-- The Noble Maritime Collection is located at Snug Harbor Cultural Center and Botanical Garden, 1000 Richmond Terrace, Livingston. Hours: Thursday-Sunday, 1-5 p.m., or by appointment. Admission is by donation. More information: Call 718-447-6490 or visit NobleMaritime.org.