In Transit

Yippee!  I’ve been approved; signed the paperwork and forked over my rent & security deposit.  I’ll begin renting a studio space in Oil City’s Transit Building on May Day—the maddest, merriest day of all the glad new year.  In the meantime, those funereal purple walls definitely need a cheerier coat of paint.  Dig those fabulous cast-iron radiators on their marble plinthses (or plinthae?).  I hadn’t fully appreciated the handsome window molding last visit, either.

So, my stuff needs to be packed, I have to call the telephone/internet people, rent a truck, paint the walls, and probably a bunch of other items that I’ve forgotten about.  It will all get done.

Listening to books

I’m a big audiobook fan.  While I stand and paint, or drive to out-of-town schools, I devour books by listening to them.

Sally Alexander, a friend of mine through the western Pennsylvania chapter of the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators, wrote an inspiring piece about her love of audiobooks.

Happy Rabbie Burns Day!

From the Vance & Louise Torbert Collection.

Oh boy, more pirates!

I just found these photos of the decorations we did for Vacation Bible School at Third Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh.  The theme was pirates, and since I’m your go-to guy when it comes to pirate stuff, Michelle (our associate pastor) asked me to come up with something.

I sketched images for banners, then gridded them off and transferred the designs onto 12 ft lengths of Kraft paper.  We grabbed every jar of poster paint in the playroom, then 3 of my Sunday school students, Emma, Charlotte and Hannah colored in the areas I’d outlined.

Michelle needed an area for kids to sit, so we bought a cheap rug and I painted a treasure map on it in acrylic paint.  I don’t remember what the tiki hut was for.

An early Christmas gift

Our British friends, the Wallaces (John, Sarah, William & Sam) sent a delightful little children’s book about a British family who travel around the United States.  It’s titled: Flight Three, U.S.A., A Ladybird Book of Travel Adventure.  Story by David Scott Daniell, and what appear to be gouache illustrations by Jack Matthew—like the one of Old Faithful above. Published in 1959 by Wills & Hepworth Ltd, Loughborough.

As the title suggests, this book is part of a travelogue series.  This one’s about two British kids, Alison & John, who tag along on Daddy’s business trips.  They tour the United States while Daddy reels off information about their destinations.  When they stop by a farm in Middle America they eat hamburgers—’very large and delicious beef patties.’

I think we served hamburgers when the Wallaces visited us a few years back, on their tour of the United States.  We had tacos, too.  I met John and Sarah 10 years ago in Mexico on an illustrators’ retreat.  You can find a few of John’s images here.

Here’s an aerial shot of the Battery in New York City—

Trouble in the Poconos

I was sure sorry to read about this—it looks like Frank Frazetta’s kid tried to burgle the gallery.

Kids and reading

Illustrator Kelly Light writes a thoughtful essay about encouraging kids to read.  And how do you do that, without making it seem like an obligation?  She has a daughter, so her recommended reading is girl-oriented.  I should get myself together and compile a list of the boy-oriented books that shaped my childhood.

I’m lucky—I come from a family who reads for pleasure.  My dad used to take me along on his trips to the old public library in downtown Syracuse, New York.  This was one of Andy Carnegie’s beautiful libraries—in the 70s, the boneheaded decision was taken to move the books into a mall. The building is still there, but it’s offices now.  I could take you on a tour of that dear old place—from the bust of Marconi on the right as you entered, up the worn marble stairs to the plate-glass floors on the second storey.  The children’s books were on the first floor in the back.  It had tall windows and ceilings, and blue carpet.  That’s where I first read Yertle the Turtle.

Anyway, give Kelly’s post a read.

Have a hubble bubble Christmas

I just received a book in the mail—a copy of The Year Without a Santa Claus by Phyllis McGinley, with illustrations by Kurt Werth.  The J.B. Lippincott Company published this title in 1956.

This was the poem that inspired the animated TV special from the 1970s.

But what to my wondering eyes should appear—is Santa Claus enjoying a few puffs from his hookah?

Whoa—what heady days the fifties were for kids’ book illustrators! Fat chance something like this would pass muster with an art director nowadays!

Come to think of it, a few years ago I did do a project that called for Santa to smoke a cigar.  I’ll dig around in the attic and unearth those sketches for a future post.

You’re a mean one, Mr Grendel

Let’s face it: there’s nothing new.  We create only by standing on the shoulders of giants.  What came before is a blueprint for our every effort.  The legacy of Western culture is a valuable gift because without it, there’s hardly anything for us creatives to draw from.  The classics of literature, for instance, can become a set of toys for a talented genius to play with.

Take the epic poem Beowulf—in which ‘there lived a monster in a cave. He was a hideous beast with green fur and yellow teeth. The townspeople feared him and would never approach his cave, he in turn would never venture out to the town for he knew he was not wanted and didn’t like the people much anyhow. There was one particular day of the year that he couldn’t stand, and on this day he vowed to ruin the towsnfolk’s fun, for if he could not have any, why should they.’

It must have occurred to Dr Seuss to bend this ancient story to his own use; to retell it as a picture book.  I was thinking about the similarities between Grendel, the monster from Beowulf, and the Grinch—even down to their names.  What really struck me was the bit about how neither one could stand the sounds of civilization.

“It harrowed him / to hear the din of the loud banquet / every day in the hall, the harp being struck / and the clear song of a skilled poet / telling with mastery of a man’s beginnings, / how the Almighty had made the earth . . .” (Beowulf 34).

And:

If there’s one thing I hate…oh the noise, noise, noise, noise! …They’ll blow their flu-flubas.  They’ll bang their tartinkas.  They’ll blow their who-hubas.  They’ll bang their gardinkas!”

A quick search on Google revealed a couple of essays written about Grendel/Grinch. Here‘s one by Courtney Shay. She brings up other similarities I hadn’t thought of:  both monsters are miserable—without joy, and wreak their havoc on society in the darkness of night.

To compare Grendel to the Grinch is to appreciate how a master of the picturebook can distill an assortment of ideas down to one clear and simple storyline.

As we descend into the chaos of the season, spare a thought for the anonymous Anglo-Saxon scribbler whose poetry lives on in How The Grinch Stole Christmas!

It’s never too late

Here’s a wonderful story about some overdue library books, and how the anonymous borrower redeemed his/her honor 50 years later.