Creativity Sparks: The Twenty (at present)

Illustration to Reynard the Fox and Other Fables, by John Rae 

Scrolling through picture after picture on the internet can be a double edged sword. Looking at illustrations keeps my creativity flowing, but looking too much can make me glaze over sometimes, and I lose the point of examining admirable works.

 The Gruegach, by John D. Batten

I've found that limiting it once in awhile helps. Gathering ten to twenty illustrations that have caught my eye, then sticking with them--examining them for why they arrested me--helps me to limit and learn. 

Illustration from his Bill the Minder, by W. Heath Robinson

So I offer three of my current Twenty here. The reasons for the choices are personal, but when I examine them and think about the techniques, no surprise that they've sparked my imagination.

If you are interested in seeing the others, find them here:

Sarmo's current Twenty

 

And thanks for reading!

William Heath Robinson: Some Rare Images

www.tomsarmo.blogspot.com

Illustration detail from a battle scene by W. Heath Robinson. 

From The Monarchs of Merry England, by Roland Carse, 1907.

Among my many influences, Heath Robinson's works have always been among the top three. 

The above detail shows not only his great skill as a draftsman and painter, 

but is as fresh and luminous as many contemporary digital illustrations. 

Now, I'm not one of those curmudgeonly critics who thinks good 

illustration ended with the Golden Age. I love it but 

am also fascinated by the amazing new works out there. 

Those will be for future posts. 

In the meantime, Heath Robinson's 

works deserve all the re-visiting they can get.  

Over the years, I've managed to collect some rare books that 

contain many of Robinson's lesser-known works. Seems a good idea to share a few;

therefore all of the pieces in this post are his.

Robinson's art is extremely eclectic, yet always retaining the stamp of 

his unique style and humor. Since I worry often about the variation in my own artwork, 

it's a comfort to see that Robinson's amazing talent and successful career 

was not damaged by his wide range of picture-making skills and interests.

Haystacks in the Snow

Since I've never seen this anywhere but in an old art catalog, not sure if it was a 

full color watercolor or originally done in black and white, but the piece is 

gorgeous nonetheless--worthy of Jean-Francois Millet.

This goofy little bird-man is from The Works of Rabelais 

which Robinson illustrated for Grant Richards in 1904.

I've always examined and learned from Robinson's full-color plates, 

but his pen and ink work is paragon, and his spot illustrations 

of goofy people burst with life and character.

This is a border decoration from 

the aforementioned Monarchs of Merry England...

...as is this jumping Medieval Scotsman.

This little piper kills me. He marches along on a 

sheet music illustration--the whole thing shown below:

This is a beauty--a stunning pen work full of tiny elves 

peeping out of the trees and faery folk cavorting in the air.

A Hag from Witches and Fairies

Collapsible Bishop's Hat, from The Bystander, 1920

A Very Tremendous decoration 

from The Water Babies, 1915

Also from The Water Babies

From The Bystander, lampooning a proposed 

tunnel under the English Channel, 1919

And last, another brilliantly lit watercolor...

The Black Prince, After Crecy, from The Monarchs of Merry England.

For more on William Heath Robinson visit http://www.heathrobinson.org/

Stay tuned for some future posts on some exciting contemporary illustrators.

And thanks for the visit!

Lantern Fascination

Lantern sketch via http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

Lantern sketch. Brush and ink, watercolor.

I notice recurring motifs in artist's works--Heath Robinson drew lots of patches and pitchers; Rackham had his pollard oaks.

Not putting myself on their level, but I noticed lanterns show up frequently--not really consciously--in my pictures.

So I dragged all my sketchbooks to the couch--even ones from my youth--and proved that beyond a doubt. There are a lot of them.

 Maybe the fascination comes from this one:

Great Grandpa's signal lantern from when he worked on the railroad. He gave it to me before he died--I loved him and treasure it. Not sure that's enough of a reason to include them so often though.

At any rate, I've posted some lantern sketches before, as prelims for a project,   http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/2013/06/illustration-construction-part-one.html but here are a few more, past and present:

 One from art school years.

One from my younger days.

In thinking about the symbolism of lanterns in literature and art, I figure they most likely represent truth, or the light of God, or wisdom. But I'm guessing. Most of mine were drawn without really thinking, and without resource.

From a older watercolor illustration (unpublished).

From a random sketchbook page.

Gave in and googled "Tarot symbology of lanterns". This from the Tarot Reading Psychic: http://tarotreadingpsychic.com/tarot-symbolism-the-lantern/

"Power of intuition, truth and courage; hope, healing and the quest for new found enlightenment through spiritual wisdom; new found awareness; a reminder that every dark path has a light" (Really?)

  

via http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

Another simple oldie

via http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

Can't remember the title of this one. From the 90's--this pic came from the 

catalog I think. I remember working hard to come up with the face on the lamp.

via http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

 Always liked this pen and ink sketch.

Detail from a watercolor done about three years ago.

A sketch fragment

Detail from One-Eyed Wizard via http://tomsarmo.blogspot.com/

From a sketch done this week. Lanterns lend themselves to the anthropomorphic pretty well--this one's from a Welsh miner's lamp in my collection.

I've never been much for analyzing my works and the motifs that recur, but I think it's a pretty safe bet that the lantern fascination goes hand in hand with my admiration of the past, and the feeling of being born into the wrong century (or nostalgia for a past life?).

Leaving you with a quote by W.B Yeats:

 “People think  I am merely trying to bring back a little of the old dead beautiful world of romance into this century of great engines and spinning Jinnies. Surely the hum of wheels and clatter of presses, let alone the lecturers with their black coats and tumblers of water, have driven away the goblin kingdom and made silent the feet of the little dancers.”

I can relate. Nothing wrong with shutting off the glare of a computer screen and letting a bit of soft lantern light and a couple of goblins into the room, is there?

As always, thanks for the visit.

The Good Triggers: Books for Kids

 Yeah, it's a cliche, but it's true nonetheless; books are good for kids. They were great for me. 

The above illustration is by Richard Doyle, from The King of the Golden River.

It scared me, blew me away (no pun intended), and planted the seed that was to grow into my life's work. I'd have never known about Doyle, but for the fact that a set of ten volumes of children's classics came with the encyclopedias my parents bought for my brother and me back in the 60s.

 Still have the complete set. They were a centerpiece of my life as a kid, no kidding! I'd warily approach them on the bookshelf, because, like everything that was alluring to me then, I was also very afraid of them. Many of the poems and stories terrified me.

(Check out Robert Southey's Poem, God's Judgement on a Wicked Bishop for a healthy dose of Victorian violence http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/god-s-judgment-on-a-wicked-bishop  Yep, it was included in this set, and it was one I couldn't help re-reading over and over, even though it made nighttime hell). 

The illustrations were the best part though (Tenniel's Jabberwock among 'em)! They confused my terrifically overstimulate-able brain and haunted me, but I couldn't leave them be either.

My favorite volumes.
The ones I hauled back and forth to school; the ones opened and examined so often they ended up a bit tattered. They are full of the illustrations I copied as a kid, and the ones of the set I still look at most.

 Marley's Ghost by John Leech (Still my all time favorite rendition.)

I suppose because they were aimed at children, the black and white drawings (by the original illustrators) were overlayed with color.

Illustration by John Dickson Batten

 And sometimes, kind of unfortunately, the editors made the decision to replace the black line with color. Still, the illustrators were credited, which allowed me to research them as I got older. This set of books led me to many of the greats who still influence my art now; among them, John D. Batten, W. Heath Robinson, Arthur Rackham, and L. Leslie Brooke.

He wrote, but who knew Gilbert drew little guys too?

 Those books also allowed me to fall in love with poetry--especially nonsense poetry--and reading in general.

Even the endpapers were cool, although this illustrator was uncredited.

I know lots of parents cringe at the thought of their children wanting to be artists. Luckily, mine didn't. And also fortunately, they knew the value of books--even if they didn't guess that the little, poorly reproduced drawings in this set would become one of the most exciting parts of my childhood.

First copyrighted in 1938, The Junior Classics can still be found at thrift stores.

Thanks for the visit!

Happy Holidays with the Little Guys

A Little Guy by W. Heath Robinson.

The musician above is from an old sheet music illustration. In it, he's following a lovely, dancing wood sprite. Within the illustration, he's only about 1/2" tall--but what personality and expression!

There are few things I like better than the elf-like, faery-like, Hobbit-like people of legend who are full of character and life.  Include in that the Little Guys, my own label for all the goofy humans drawn over the centuries by artist/illustrators. You can find them everywhere, sometimes greatly caricatured, sometimes with gently exaggerated features, always packed with vitality and infused with some mystery. Hunting for and collecting new Little Guys is a favorite pastime of mine--here are a few of the best.

The Wild Man. A.B. Frost. 

Arthur Burdett Frost (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A._B._Frost) illustrated many books full of regular humans, and he's probably best known for his pictures of Brer Rabbit. But his versions of little guys are pretty matchless. The sinister Wild Man above is an illustration from the Lewis Carroll poem, Poeta Fit Non Nascitur (which, according to google translate, means: "The Poet is Not Born"). I love his face and that broken symbol of  bad luck sticking out of his hat.

Snow, Real Snow. Honore Daumier.

Probably my favorite lithograph--or image--of all time. Maybe. It is perfection though, not only in the stance and wonder-filled expression of the fellow, but in the absolutely spot-on light and atmosphere of an early, snow-filled morning.  Am I crazy, or is this not the peerless evocation of a universal feeling? Perfect verisimilitude!

And if you do think I'm looney, please just accept this picture as my 

Happy Holiday Peace-Wish 

(via the genius of Daumier) 

for you.

Thanks, as always, for reading!