August Already

Another month, another page of the calendar is flipped over. It’s August already! In August 1933, British Vogue featured this illustration Beauty Number by Benito on its cover. What lovely, graceful lines he has drawn – that simply drawn face is quintessential Benito, as is the minimal colour palette Art Deco.

The issue might be about beauty, but all I’m thinking is coral. The eye immediately is drawn (pardon the pun) to the three strands of coral gracing this underwater lady’s neck.

It puts me in mind of an incredible antique coral necklace I saw in Essaouira, the seaside town of Morocco. Only that one was far more magnificent and would have hung halfway down this lady’s chest. I enquired about the price and was not at all surprised to hear it was €1000. (I had already bought a more modest piece for around €20 in Fez, so I didn’t suffer too many heart-burnings.)

Now I’m all inspired to do a photoshoot in homage to Benito. All I need is a blue wig… 

Oh my! It's July!

A pinch and a punch for the first of the month: happy July to you! I've been back from travels just a week, and the holiday lustre has at last worn off. It’s a bit of an anticlimax, and a little bit sad, but come Monday I'll be back into the swing of things.

I came home and turned over a new leaf, and was confronted by this picture of summery relaxation, just to rub in the fact I’ve left the Moroccan sunshine far behind. So here I bring you July's calendar picture, Beauty Number by Georges Lepape. It first appeared in British Vogue, in August 1934. If I close my eyes I can feel the caress of the sunshine, the crisp grains of sand beneath my feet of Immessouan beach, and hear the roll of the ocean waves. Aaah.

Northern Exposure

Matryoshka, 2010Illustrators Australia’s Annual A3 Print Show is starting today. It opens in Melbourne as part of Northern Exposure 2011, the High Street Northcote Visual Arts Festival, held on 18-20 June. After that it travels to NSW for July/August. All open-editioned archival Giclee prints will be produced and presented unframed for the one price of $125 each.

These are my two entries. I really wanted to produce something brand-spanking new, but I just ran out of time before I headed off to Spain. I was planning to do an updated illustration of one of my Inter-Universe Beauty Pageant contestants, but they will have to wait for my return.

It’s a pity I am unable to attend the exhibition, but if you’re in Melbourne, go check it out.

Dyevushki, 2010

Arthur Rackham’s Frightening World

“O waken, waken, Burd Isbel”, from Young Beichan, Child balladIf you liked reading when you were a child, and in particular, fairy-tales, then chances are you would be familiar with Arthur Rackham’s illustrations. They certainly transported me into a world of imagination.

Rackham (1867–1939) was born in London as one of 12 children. At 18 he was earning a crust as a clerk at the Westminster Fire Office, but was also studying part-time at the Lambeth School of Art. He quit his day-job in 1892, and started working as a reporter and illustrator. His first serious commission came in 1894, and he illustrated Anthony Hope’s The Dolly Dialogues. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Alice in WonderlandApparently he invented his own unique drawing technique – it doesn’t seem so unusual to me, as it is exactly how I work when I make ink drawings. Rackham sketched an outline of his drawing, and then lightly blocked in shapes and details with multiple washes of colour. Ink was applied last; the pencil was erased when the work was dry.

He also used intricately cut silhouettes in his illustration. I once owned a couple of his books, and I remember as a child staring in fascination at the silhouettes. (Sadly, the books have mysteriously disappeared from my shelves, along with my entire collection of children’s books. I suspect nefarious doings by one or other of my nieces or nephews.)

Note the use of an engraving in the background to give depth to the illustration

…it is often one’s nightmares that are most memorable

Rackham still influences artists today. Interestingly, the director of Pan’s Labyrinth, Guillermo Del Toro cites Rackham as an influence on the design of the Faun in the film. He liked the grittiness of his drawings. Certainly many of Rackham’s illustrations are quite dark, with a definite hint of menace under the surface. The giants seizing Freia (right) are certainly a nightmarish example, as are so many traditional fairy-tales.

I find his dirty, subdued colour palette and frightening world with its sinister undercurrent very inspiring – especially in this day and age when so much story-telling is painted in bright, candy colours – and computer-rendered to boot. After all, it is often one’s nightmares that are most memorable.

The Rhinemaidens of Die GotterdammerungA light note to finish: a Kensington Gardens fairyThe End.

Fresh-Faced First Editions

‘First Term at Malory Towers’, by Enid Blyton, 1946; cover illustration by Stanley Lloyd

I can’t remember how old I was the first time I read Enid Blyton’s Malory Towers books, but I do recall how I loved them. My hopes were dashed too when one of my older sisters explained that this was a fictional school (and on another continent besides). 

Stumbling upon The Enid Blyton Society, I was delighted to find scans of covers of the first and second editions. I love the style of these 50s and 60s illustrations: they look just so fresh and innocent, with a colour palette typical of the era. They're perfect for depicting the adventures of these young English schoolgirls. 

‘The Second Form at Malory Towers’, by Enid Blyton, 1947; cover illustration by Stanley Lloyd‘Third Year at Malory Towers’, by Enid Blyton, 1948; cover illustration by Stanley Lloyd

they look just so fresh and innocent, with a colour palette typical of the [50s and 60s] era

They make me feel so nostalgic, not, ahem, because I am so old, but because I was so young when I first read them, possibly even before I started high school myself. I love the smell and feel of old books like these, they remind me of childhood summers when I ran around barefoot, of warm, scented breezes and the thrill of holidays yawning ahead of me, with so much time to devour books. 

‘Upper Fourth at Malory Towers’, by Enid Blyton, 1949; cover illustration by Stanley Lloyd‘In the Fifth at Malory Towers’, by Enid Blyton, 1950; cover illustration by Stanley Lloyd

The illustrator’s name was Stanley Lloyd, and he created the covers for all the first editions of the Malory Towers series, although he was also active in the field of pony book illustration – not a genre I was ever interested in when I was a child. He began his career illustrating for magazines, and wrote two books himself, but it is these particular illustrations for Enid Blyton for which he is most well-known. If you have a spare few hundred dollars you can even buy a first edition on Abebooks.

‘Last Term at Malory Towers’, by Enid Blyton, 1951; cover illustration by Stanley Lloyd