Some Border Designs and Influences

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Borders interest me greatly, and influences vary from

the illustrations of George Cruikshank, to

the stained glass windows of Harry Clarke. 

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Sometimes I get carried away with preliminary sketches.

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Can't say I like drawing better than painting. Good thing there are both available.

 Maurice Sendak; designs for The Nutcracker

The 70s and 80s saw a surge in border designs by contemporary artists. Maurice Sendak's wonderful sketches have always been a huge influence.

Trina Schart Hyman; Detail crop from Saint George and the Dragon

Same with the amazing illustrations of Trina Schart Hyman.

 

Borders give an artist the ability to extend the "story" within an artwork, but often are simply wonderful, decorative touches.

 

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Playing around with new border ideas and methods remains a favorite endeavor. 

I'll be posting more influences and borders next time. Until then, please check out and follow me on  Instagram   tomsarmo_art.

Thanks for the visit!

Once Upon a Time

Lisbeth Zwerger. From Hansel and Gretel.
(Ms. Zwerger's work, across the board, is incredible.)

I'm celebrating some pictures I love from a different, but fairly recent time in
the history of literature.

Alice and Martin Provensen. From The Provensen's Book of Fairytales.
(A true classic. Which of their books isn't?)

I'm also complaining.
Now, I'm normally not one to cry and moan over the lost "good old days". Most of them were good only in time-mellowed and mangled memory--not in reality.

But still, pull up your chair and let me tell you a story:

Once upon a time there were children's book publishers in the U.S. that truly focused on children and literature. That's no fairy tale. Those houses hired and respected editors like Ursula Nordstrom, Charlotte Zolotow, and Margery Cuyler. Publishers allowed those editors the freedom and the time to nurture authors and artists like the young Maurice Sendak, Trina Schart Hyman, Chuck Mikolaycak, and Syd Hoff.

Charles Mikolaycak. From The Highwayman.
(An amazing book with stunning pictures, as are all of Mikolaycak's books.)

It was a time before tabloid-kings had bought up the great publishing houses and turned many children's book departments into money-losing ventures that made books into toys and venerated
celebrity rather than art. 

It was a time when many authors and illustrators could make a living out of the craft they
loved and spent years to develop.

Trina Schart Hyman. From Little Red Riding Hood.
(Ms. Hyman was seriously one of the best. Do yourself a favor and check out all of her works.)

It was a time when children's books actually generated more income than the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators. It was a time when making literature for children could be a
vocational, life-long career, not just a hobby.

It was a time when children's book publishers actually promoted the books that writers and illustrators made. (Yes Virginia, once upon a time authors and illustrators didn't have to do it all at their own expense.) It was a time when visionary-but-poor writers and illustrators actually had a chance to cultivate and establish their craft.

Tomie dePaola. From The Clown of God.
(DePaola's books are bursting with "heart")

It was a time when devoted and loving book illustrators and writers, not
hate-radio personalities, won awards.

Don't get me wrong, there are many wonderful new books out there for
children I'm sure, but things have changed big-time. I don't see that it's for the better.
Not for writers and illustrators, and especially not for kids and literature.

On that note, I'll leave you with a link to a wonderful interview with the late,
modern genius; Maurice Sendak:
http://publishingperspectives.com/2012/11/maurice-sendak-publishing-is-such-an-outrageously-stupid-profession/ 

And thanks for reading.

Fleeting Thoughts

A bit melancholy, now that spring is past and the hot summer is due to begin.

Brief--I should say fleeting--thoughts of small, rich bits (like Durer's Great Piece of Turf, below) are moving around in my brain lately.

It might be because large, beautiful landscapes are escaping my notice, most likely due to the destruction of my neighborhood, and that of other places I once loved.

 A little watercolor sketch I painted on location (at a place called Onion Hill) once a long time ago.

It was much cooler and way more atmospheric than this sad little sketch shows.

Now Onion Hill looks like this. In winter. (It's not much better in the summer.)

It always amazes me that people actually choose to live in houses like these. It's an expensive development, not a slum where one might be forced to live due to economic hardship. Miles of giant black roofs that block the view of the surrounding mesas, and brown, tan, and taupe instead of a colorful old farm. Some kind of modern Gulag.

The late, great illustrator Trina Schart Hyman once wrote: 

"One spring the farm was sold, and men and machines came and tore it down. They ripped up the grand old elms and boxwoods...they smashed the old stone and stucco walls and splintered the hand-painted blue and white tiles that lined the fireplaces. They shattered the wavery-gold and violet-tinted glass of the windows. They battered it...until it finally collapsed and died: then they plowed it under with their bulldozers.  

I learned something, that day. I learned that everything changes, and nothing is safe."

The farm from the book Self-Portrait, by Trina Shart Hyman

Everything changes I guess, including (maybe) my own ideas and opinions about beauty. And nothing is ever really safe. But it wouldn't hurt my feelings to once in awhile see a new, brown suburb bulldozed to make way for an old neighborhood filled with some charm.