hello, beautiful...

No, I haven't given birth prematurely, but I have bought a super-large vintage wall chart of lobster anatomy from the lovely Junk Deluxe to indulge myself. It's currently adorning our bathroom wall because it happened to complement the wall colour, and there aren't too many walls big enough in our house to accommodate it. Needless to say, I am in love with it.

 

Like Junk Deluxe on Facebook for most recent stock updates. Wall colour: Hardwick White by Farrow and Ball. The other picture is a screen print by James Brown.

Hope you have all been well. Life is slowing down at my end - I'm counting down the days until I finish my latest project and can finally get on with preparing for the arrival of the little beast currently residing in my belly.

Moomin stuff

Loving these Moomin trays, on offer on Achica today. I like the colourful one best. Various designs are also available full price here, here and here. Now I must get on with some work...

Mervyn Peake and Maeve Gilmore

Most people know Mervyn Peake for his Gormenghast Trilogy, but few venture beyond those books to discover his talent for drawing and painting. He was an illustrator as well as a writer, bringing to life on paper the products of his extraordinary imagination. I would definitely recommend reading Letters from a Lost Uncle, a fantastically strange and often hilarious series of typed and illustrated 'letters' written by an Arctic explorer to his nephew. It is a work of genius.


I received a notification this morning of a new exhibition of some of the work of Mervyn Peake and his wife Maeve Gilmore, to be held from 9th July until 28th August at Viktor Wynd Fine Art in London. The gallery is associated with the Last Tuesday Society, which you should check out if you're a Londoner - pretty weird and interesting stuff to join in with, if that's your kind of thing.

Images courtesy of Viktor Wynd Fine Art, The Last Tuesday Society, and an unknown source (for the Letters image) on Flickr.

I am off to Italy tomorrow for a week, so it's goodbye until then. I hope to resume more regular blogging once I return - hopefully the work will ease off a bit for the summer and I can spend more time doing my own thing. Pigs might fly.

The serious artist

Client: Ikea

I'm in a bit of a maudlin mood about work at the moment. I'm returning to a topic that preoccupies me to an unhealthy degree - what it is to be a true artist. I know that a lot of people who stop by my blog are illustrators themselves, so maybe you will understand what I mean when I say that I wonder sometimes if I'm an artist at all.

Client: Tesco

Client: Fiat

You see, I draw a lot of animals and car parts, and I animate run cycles and dog silhouettes, all on demand and for clients, not myself. It's what I have to do to make a living and a lot of the time it's quite fun. A lot of time is is soul-sapping. When the work isn't coming in thick and fast I have the chance to work on personal projects. And that's when I come unstuck.

I have impulsively signed myself up for the open studios event in North Wales, Helfa Gelf, with the intention of building up a body of my own, what I call 'proper', work before September. It's not that I have to be a painter or sculptor to take part - being an illustrator is just as valid, but I have yearnings to paint and to make more things with my hands and this is a good opportunity to push myself. To this end, I have started to think about what I really want to do, but right now I'm frozen with terror. It's that blank canvas feeling, you know?

It's been a long time since I've seriously sat down and thought about doing something entirely self-directed. What do I want to do? Who am I? What do I want to say? I used to use my sketchbooks at uni as a kind of repository for my 'streams of consciousness' ranting and self-loathing. I wrote much more than I drew in those sketchbooks. It was a way of procrastinating about producing any artwork at all; I was 'thinking'. I'm procrastinating right now by blogging my insecurities rather than addressing them practically.

I look at other artists' work and am preoccupied by a few questions. What is it that compels artists to do what they do; to choose to paint humans or landscapes or whatever? How do they make choices and decisions about where to make a mark, which colour to use, how big a canvas to paint on? How do they know if what they have done is any good? Or is it the case that whatever you do, you have to believe that it's good enough or no-one else will either. Where on earth do I start?


What I do know about myself is that I am obsessed by dead, stuffed, pickled animals, deformities, notions of conservation and preservation, education and display. I like reading about sideshows and freak shows, the circus and the zoo. I am not a serious person and I should value my ability to make people laugh. It's not easy when most 'real' artists seem to take themselves so seriously - am I too flippant to ever be an artist?

I wonder if any of you also feel like this, and what you do to inspire your own work, to give yourself a kick start when the inspiration and self-belief are running a bit low? How do you know if what you are doing is any good, or does that not matter? Please share your thoughts!

a few things for Friday

I really should stop shopping for a house that I STILL do not own. Grrrr... I can't help it, I'm sorry. It's driving me nuts, but I can't stop looking for lighting and sofas and chairs for my imaginary new home.

So today I thought I should share a couple of non-housey things instead.


Firstly, I took part in a Secret Valentine exchange, organised by the very sweet Alicia of Alicia Rose (website, blog, Etsy, Twitter). We were each given the address of another participant, and had to send something handmade to them for Valentine's Day. I received my gift from Alicia herself, and I was stunned by her generosity and the loveliness of her gifts. She is a talented embroiderer who makes images using her sewing machine (a technique I have never been able to master) and turns them into art for your walls, cushions, tote bags and all sorts of other goodies. I received some note cards, a lovely lavender sachet and two of her art pieces. Now I definitely want a nice house where I can display these!


In Karen's sewing world, this rabbit, temporarily named Konstantin, came into being as a birthday gift for the husband last weekend. I added the silly Russian hat because his head looked a little bare without anything, and the heart because he lacked colour. All very silly. He only speaks Russian and likes to eat borscht and dumplings.

Have a great weekend, all. I'll try to be a better bunny and do some drawing for the blog next week.

Some links for the weekend - old friends and old soap

I used to work for the lovely people at 12foot6 and still get their newsletter with updates on their recent work. Yesterday they sent me a link to some ads they have done for the new Puma Phone. I thought it was pretty cool - having worked there for more than two years I can spot who did each ad - it's great to be able to see the hallmarks of each particular artist. I'm almost certain whose hands those are, and that weird chap at the end... well... I won't say who that is.


And the other day I randomly came across this site, Carbolic Soap, which sells exactly that - carbolic soap in all sorts of different forms and formulae. Now I don't have any memories of this stuff, being a child of the 80s when things were changing, and also being Chinese with no family history in England. But I know the smell and I love it. The site probably needs some work to make it more attractive, but if you're looking for traditional household products that are hard to source, or old-fashioned soap for sensitive skin, then this is your place. They sell stuff like Mitchell's shaving soap and a repro dish for it, reproduction washboards, all sorts of interestingly wrapped soaps and lots of household cleaning products. Weird and wonderful. I would certainly have some of these floating around my house just for the pretty packaging.

I'll post up my next drawing later today. Have a great weekend, kids. I am trying to find something interesting to do with the husband in the godforsaken part of the country that we live in (East Anglia) that doesn't involve stately homes, garden tours or activities for Mother's Day. Aaargh!

Amy Cutler

I am snowed under with work today. I thought I'd quickly show you the work of Amy Cutler, an American artist who mostly draws beautiful images of costumed women doing bizarre things. I think her work is fascinating and lovely to look at. To tell you the truth I've not had much time of my own to explore her work so I am quite intrigued and keen to see more. I've scanned in a drawing, titled 'Row', 2002, from that book I wrote about a few weeks ago, Vitamin D, but if you want to see more, try googling her name. That's all I've got time for today. I'm falling further and further behind with my One Hundred drawings, but you know, I need to earn me some cash...

a few things for the weekend...

I don't often blog stuff that someone else has blogged, but I am loving this house. The light and colours are perfect and that raw wall in the kitchen is beautiful. I get the feeling that if I were to ever try something like that it would just look horrible, but it works here. Image from Ill Seen, Ill Said (full credits to be found there).

Whilst I am blogging this, I am listening to Devendra Banhart, who happens to be a great drawer as well as a singer. His music seems to be hitting just right note for me today - intriguing, whimsical, simple, expressive, almost elemental if that makes any sense. I am always drawn to artists whose output hints at fabulous and colourful goings-on inside their heads.

Have you seen this video for his song, 'A Ribbon'? It's just beautiful.



Here is some of his artwork, scanned by me from Vitamin D - New Perspectives in Drawing published by Phaidon. This book is seriously amazing and inspiring. I will write more about it next week with some images from it.


Untitled, 2004, ink on paper.


(top) Bob Marley, Indian Rasta Ghost, Skullface Indian, Babylon You Throne, Gone Down, 2004, ink on paper. (bottom) Untitled, 2004, ink on paper.

(We've been having internet issues here, so if I don't post something for the one hundred days later, forgive me!)

Have a great weekend! Happy Valentine's Day too :-) x

Ryan Abegglen

I came across the wonderful Ryan Abegglen yesterday whilst I was browsing Share Some Candy. I think his style and ideas are great, and his delightful use of language gives his work a very particular and oddball voice. Click on the images to read the text. All images are from Ryan's website, with thanks. See his site for links to his shop, blog and Facebook page.



Gosh, this really makes me want to do some, you know, proper work. Not just silly drawings tossed off in five minutes like I've been doing, but Proper Work. Like I mean it. Like I've thought about it. Maybe soon...

happy Friday!

It's nearly the weekend again! I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to it or not - it all depends on whether someone gives me work to do or not... I'm not anticipating a completely carefree two days :-( Hopefully I will be able to get my shop up and running, fire some of the ceramic pieces I've been decorating, go shopping with the husband in London. He is in need of sartorial upgrading - he's one of those sporadic shoppers who won't buy anything for a year and then goes out one day and spends two hundred pounds in one pop. If I do that I come out in hives and need to lie down for a bit - a little at a time is my method. That way you realise much more slowly how much of your income you spend on clothes and junk and it hurts a little less (but is probably more insidiously damaging).


I've spotted a few things I'd like to see at next week's auction at Willingham. I shall write about it next week. One of the pieces is a landscape watercolour by one of my illustration idols, Arthur Rackham. OK, it looks like something he smeared onto paper whilst at the beach on holiday, but it's still by him! Here's one of his images (from Wikipedia):


He was one of the most famous and best-loved of the illustrators that were a part of the late 19th/early 20th century golden era of illustrated children's books. His strength was certainly his line work - he was essentially a drawer rather than a painter. His illustrations were well coloured-in (I'm not being derogatory, though!), masterful drawings. He was not that bothered about colour, but the drabness of his work is part of its appeal to me. It creates a real moodiness and gloomy atmosphere that perfectly suited a lot of the material he illustrated.

On the other hand Edmund Dulac was an absolute master of colour and pattern. He balanced the drab with the most exquisite, jewel-like colour washes, and was wonderfully skilled as a painter. His sense of lighting and composition was gorgeous. We were privileged enough a few years ago to see some of his work in the flesh alongside some Rackham, Kay Nielsen and other contemporaries at Dulwich Picture Gallery. These images don't do the originals justice. For more images, look here.

Holiday Stories

Here are a few scans of that book I mentioned. What's nice about it? The thick, textured paper that has gone all yellow and patchy. The beautiful silhouette on the back cover. The quirky titles of the stories, with crisp black and white illustrations and lovely typesetting, and the print almost debossed into the paper. Cute, for a couple of quid.

inspiration

A while ago, reader Scottie and I were discussing the things that influence me as an artist and I promised to write about them when I returned from holiday. Well, it's been more than two weeks since I got back and it's high time I actually did the things I said I would. Procrastination is my middle name...

Firstly, I have already written about a few artists who I think are amazing - Chris Ware, David Hockney, Dylan Martorell, David Hughes, Anne Herbauts, Rébecca Dautremer, Tom Gauld, and Donna Wilson. These posts can be found under the labels inspiration or illustrators in the bar on the right.

Image by Marcel Dzama from davidzwirner.com

So who haven't I mentioned so far? Amongst contemporaries there is the wonderful Camilla Engman, of course. How about Marcel Dzama, with his fascinatingly odd scenes and wild imagination (and the colours!)? Sara Fanelli is one of my favourite children's book artists. And Crankbunny's beautiful puppets and paper-cut animations have also been on my radar recently... check out this animation in particular.


Invitation to Ron Arad's Milan show, by Sara Fanelli.


From 'Sometimes I think, sometimes I am' by Sara Fanelli.

Older artists whose work I have admired includes things that everyone loves - Quentin Blake, Maurice Sendak, Edmund Dulac, Arthur Rackham, Winsor McCay... (can't be bothered to find links for all these).

I'll keep thinking of more artists and write about them here, so keep coming back!


Lady Spider Paper Puppet by Crankbunny. Buy it here.

Of course there are other things that influence me other than artists - and possibly even more so than artists - I'm an introspective creature. My zoological background, my love of weird people, outcasts, monsters and freaks, my obsession with alter egos, personal secrets, self-esteem, people's private thoughts. What else? Insecurity, body image problems - just everyday stuff that comes from reading junk, people-watching and looking into my own head.

When I'm asked about artists I am influenced by, I'm often stumped for an answer unless I sit down and think about it. No-one, absolutely nobody, can claim not to be influenced by other artists, that is just fatuous, ignorant arrogance. Whilst I look at lots of things and am sure that they all feed into what I do as an artist, I am not a slave to a style - I don't try to be what I'm not. That's the biggest thing I learned at university: to look but don't touch, to try techniques and ideas out but do it in your own way, to explore why you like something but not try to copy it. In the end you are an individual and therefore what you produce will be 'original' if you follow your instincts.

Chris Ware

The work of Chris Ware has been blogged about to death, but I thought it at least deserves a mention here. In particular I wanted to talk about storytelling in comic books. Admittedly I've read precious few of these, usually finding them difficult or being uninterested in their content. However, a few years ago a friend gave me Jimmy Corrigan: the Smartest Kid on Earth, which turned out to be one of the most incredible books I have ever read. I could write about it for pages but I'll try to keep this short. Firstly, the story is unusual for a comic book - it tells the story of three generations of Corrigan men, centering on the story of Jimmy Corrigan's first meeting with his estranged father. It is a careful study of loneliness and crushing social awkwardness on the one hand, and on the other hand it explores ideas of paternal neglect and desertion, and the repercussions these can have down the generations of a family.

It's certainly not the easiest of reads, but I have always believed that a book isn't really worth reading unless it challenges you in some way. It should make you think, make you bang your head against a wall trying to figure out what it's about; it should make you angry, elated, amused, any or all of these things. The book has plenty of critics who find it dull, ugly or impossible to read. It is sometimes a bit self-conscious in its sidelong superhero references, or in its use of classic comic book devices to tell the story, but I think that the overall work is extraordinarily beautiful. Its very self-consciousness adds another layer of meaning to the story - at the very heart of it is Ware's inquisitiveness with regard to storytelling structures.


Great storytelling is about narrative and sequence. So firstly there must be good content but more importantly it is about the way in which the narrative is presented in time. Storytelling is made great through the thoughtful pacing of a story and the ways of telling it with imagination and dynamism. I think Jimmy Corrigan is an almost perfect exposition of these ideas - it is meticulously planned but playful and very often surprising or even baffling. There are straightforward pages laid out in a classic style, interspersed with beautiful, serene images that allow the narrative to breathe, as it were. And sprinkled throughout are these curious diversions: cut-out-and-stick houses, collectors' cards of views in Waukosha, and even a mid-way summary page (below). All of these are interwoven with occasional flashbacks, dream sequences and grotesque fantasies. There is a palpable sense of loneliness - created through the sombre colour palette and the hiccupping pacing that flows and ebbs throughout, enveloping moments of desperate quietness or crippling anxiety. I am sounding properly pretentious now, so I'll shut up. I can only recommend reading it to see what I'm harping on about.



All images from Jimmy Corrigan: the Smartest Kid on Earth by Chris Ware.


Oh, and if you want to see some wonderful animations by Chris Ware and John Kuramoto, check out the This American Life animations here and here on YouTube. They are stunning and funny all at the same time, and demonstrate the translation of these storytelling ideas into moving image.

dylan martorell

I first came across the work of Scottish artist and musician Dylan Martorell when I saw these fantastic wall stickers for sale on French website, Domestic. They are also available from madeindesign.co.uk. If only I were brave enough, I'd either have these lovelies (picture above) on my wall, or do something like this myself. I mean, what would be cooler on your wall than a bird riding a leaping rhinoceros, or a weird lady-creature playing a saxophone with two cats coming out of it? I have wanted these for about a year now but I'm not sure if they would suit our house, although they suit my illustration taste. I'm always wondering too if it's just a passing fad I'm having, but since they are easily removed I guess it wouldn't hurt too much if I only liked them for a year. Maybe I should get them for our future place, which I'm already dreaming of - light-filled rooms with high ceilings and tall windows... ahhh...




This magnificent wallpaper panorama can be yours for £424!


Anyway, I came across Dylan's work again at the Portfolios Show I was attending a few weeks ago. He is represented by Jacky Winter Group in Australia, where he now lives. I love the intricacy and rhythm of his work, and the slightly dark themes influenced by myth and tribalism amongst many other things I am sure.

david hughes

For a little non-seasonal bedtime reading last night, I was looking (drooling slightly) at 'Silent Night' by Sandy Turner. It's about a little dog who goes crazy, barking at apparently nothing one Christmas Eve night. The only text is the 'woof, bark, yap' that the dog emits. Only the dog can see Father Christmas, not the humans who only see their pet going mad in front of them. I particularly like this bit below, where the father is looking through Santa at his dog and Santa isn't coloured in because the man can't see him.




I love the minimalist style and limited palette of this book - quite unusual for a children's book, but then the author and illustrator is no ordinary chap either.

Turner's real name is David Hughes who is a very well known British illustrator, best recognised by his sometimes caustic but always very sharply observed caricatures. I think he is a magnificent talent - he's been at it since the early 1980s and has caricatured the likes of the Royal Family, Nietzsche, Jack Nicholson and Osama Bin Laden. His work dances on the very edge between acceptable wit and downright insult, but his eye for detail and character is razor-sharp. I have huge admiration for someone who does their entire illustration on paper and goes nowhere near a computer. Check out his 'Drawings' book (link below) for more of his stunning work.


Thom Yorke/Radiohead, Rolling Stone 1997.


Pressure of Numbers, Observer Magazine (A Doctor Writes) 1991.

Poorly-scanned images from 'Silent Night', by Sandy Turner, and from 'David Hughes: Drawings' published by Kerber.