Dog Days

It's official: the dog days of summer are upon us now.

Although there is some dispute about their start date (July 3? July 6? July 8??), most agree that they bring 40 days (biblical!) of heat and humidity and stillness, relieved only by the occasional welcome thunderstorm.

Why "dog days"?  According to the Romans, it was caused by Sirius, the Dog Star (brightest element in the constellation Canis Major, or "Big Dog"), which is closest to the sun at this time of year.  And these canine references continue to this day:  canicule ("little dog") is, of course, the French term for heat wave...

Anyway, I hope all of y'all are near a body of water in this time of torpor. And keep those mint juleps comin'!!

Also:

• Illustrators illustrated: portraits of practitioners
• Emma Mason: British prints
• Dog portraits, while we are on the subject...
• And finally: a tip of the hat to Maximum (aka The Best Cat Ever™), who went walkabout four years ago today. And was never heard from again. Come back, Pic-pic!

PS.  This blog is going on its summer break — see you when we get back!

Anniversaire

Exactly one year ago today, I began this blog (Top Secret™, but some of you found out anyway!). It has really taken on a life of its own— opened doors and windows in my life in surprising ways.  Happy birthday, little blog!

And thank you to you (yes, you) for reading, looking and shooting the breeze with me.  And stay tuned for more...

Summer sketching

Summer is here:  let the sweltering commence!  In my sketchbook (totally ignoring the scorching heat) a giraffe  serenely munches a cool fresh leaf.   Me, on the other hand?  Melting.

Any tips for beating the heat?  Other than Mind Over Matter™??  Now would be the time to send them.

In the meantime, if you have energy to click:

• Le chat du rabbin (aka The Rabbi's Cat), by the wonderful Joann Sfar, has been released in France as a feature-length film— and won the top prize at Annecy!  I hope it gets a worldwide release.

• Do you know the Jacket Museum?

• And lastly:  Bernard Lodge, printmaker from Brighton.

Stay cool, Reader.  

Paris and posters

                   

Here's a page from my sketchbook, revisited with the odds and ends that always find their way into my pockets.

These Colonnes Morris—part of the Parisian landscape since the mid-1800's—are advertising pillars originally built to combat rampant advertising and graffiti. Some of them contain telephones and automatic public toilets.  And sometimes—startlingly— they serve as a broom cupboard for street cleaners.

Here's a Colonne Morris (seen from my local café on Fontaine Saint Michel)—also doubles as as hat!)

But most of all, they are adorned with beautiful posters: only those advertising cultural events (films, concerts, theatre, etc) are permitted. With such a steady stream of work (some of it publically funded) and abundant places to display it in, the flowering of French poster art was the inevitable result.  From Toulouse-Lautrec and Alphonse Mucha, to A.M. Cassandre and Raymond Savignac and Hervé Morvan, not to mention André François, Nathan-Garamond and Jean-Michel Folon —they all contributed to the rich visual feast on the streets here.

Newer practitioners you may want to look at:

• Michel Batory (who had a retrospective at Musée des Arts Decoratifs recently)
• The fabulous Zeloot (and much more here)
• Michel Quarez (and here)

In general:

• French posters: a huge collection organized by era (don't miss the ones after World War II...)
• Chaumont: International Poster Festival 
• And further afield: there's the International Poster Bienale, at the Poster Museum in Wilanow, Poland (which is held in June of even-numbered years).

Road trip, anyone?

Bologna, part 2 — Discoveries

In this installment of my ludicrously unpunctual series of posts on Bologna, I want to share a few discoveries I made while there.  Once you tear yourself away from your appointments, the exhibitions and other activities, your explorations will be amply rewarded!

Estonian illustrators really caught my eye this time. Juri Mildeberg did this one (as well as the one above):

Piret Raud's images are fresh and quirky:

The Little House who Wanted to be a Home

Then there was Anu Kalm...

...and the somewhat elusive Anne Linnamagi:

Next up:  from the book stand of EKEBI (the National Book Centre of Greece), I stumbled upon the work of Effie Lada:

She is one of the nominees for the 2012 Hans Christian Andersen Award (aka the "IBBY").  Quite an honour — these are like the Nobel Prize for children's books!

For one reason or another (friends, rendez-vous, etc), I found myself spending a good bit of time in the German publishing area.  And there I found quite a few artists whose work was unfamiliar to me, including —

Manuela Olten, and her charming hippopotamus Nefertiti (seen here rummaging for her lost cup):

{Eine Tasse für Nofretete Nilpferd — Berlin Verlag 2010}

... and a bedtime scene:

There was also Martina Badstuber, and her flying donkey: 

(Published in German as "Fredo träumt vom Fliegen". In English: "When Donkeys Fly")

"Das Kleine Schwein..."

There was much much more — far too many to name! I will just mention in passing that the Spanish publishers had much that was intriguing— from (just to name a few): Edelvives, Zorro Rojo, OQO and Kalandraka.... 

Great work... and enough inspiration to be getting on with!

Bologna, part 1 — Overview

So anyways, I went to the Bologna Children's Book Fair last month.  It was my first time—I don't know what took me so long! I came away goggle-eyed, my head bulging with new information, images and encounters (... and my valise bulging with books, catalogues, cards, all to be perused in leisure). Here is a little impression of my time there.

First, an overview of the fair itself:  established in 1963, the Bologna Book Fair is the largest and longest-running event of its kind.  The Salon du Livre at Montreuil was started 20 years later, and is focussed on only French language children's publications; as a result, it is much smaller. Bologna, on the other hand, is international in scope: 1300 exhibitors (compared to Montreuil's 350)—publishers, literary and illustration organizations, agents and others—come from 67 countries, and display their wares in 20,000 square metres of space. Unlike Montreuil, it is not open to the public but only to professionals.  That means: no roaring kids on school trips, no books for sale, no story-telling workshops, no autographs. None. Of. That.

But what does that even mean— "1300 exhibitors in 20,000 square metres"?

Each of those green rectangles is like an airplane hangar — an airplane hangar containing a football field! You spend the entire day galloping from one end of the fair to the other (note to self:  flat shoes!)—late to appointments, or lost, or trying to take in as much as you can in four short days. This brief video (by author  Bart Moeyaert, via the Astrid Lindgren blog)  gives an idea of the breathless pace of the fair:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3dHuRQrzZEI

Is Bologna a good place to do business, for an illustrator?  Opinion is divided on this question.  On the one hand, it is true that the main activity is between publishers, who are there to buy and sell rights to previously published books.  They are focussed on trading, not necessarily there for creative people; at times the art directors are not even present. Or are too overwhelmed and inattentive to be any good to you.

On the other hand, appointments can always be made --best if arranged in advance, but last-minute rendez-vous are also possible.  And certain publishers (especially the well-organized Germans!) set aside a few hours each day to look at portfolios, and a long queue of hopeful illustrators forms immediately!  And lastly, two of my friends actually got book projects while at Bologna (félicitations, les filles!) So there!!

Then there's always the Illustrator's Wall:

Here you can put up your postcard, business card, poster or other illustration promo pieces. (Note to self:  a stapler or double-sided tape would have been good...). Does it help?  Does tossing a coin in the Trevi fountain help?  In any event it's fun to look at everyone else's imagery...

Of course, the main thing that will catch your eye is books—

(Here are some from the wonderful Spanish publisher, Zorro Rojo—I found wonderful books at their stand including these by Javier Zabala and Antonio Santos.)

—there are so many of them, you will be the proverbial kid in the proverbial candy shop!  The anticipation and excitement will soon be superseded by a sense of adventure as you start to make discoveries. It's overwhelming at first—it takes a little time to be able to focus on one book at a time, in the beginning you just want to get the lay of the land and your attention span is greatly reduced. But you'll get the hang of it!

It can all be a bit tiring, of course.  Luckily, there's the Illustrator's Café where you can sit and rest your barking dogs.  It is a lounge of sorts, a meeting place — and also the venue for the many events (talks by illustrators/authors, panel discussions, live interviews, and especially awards ceremonies) that take place at the book fair.  And of course it is adjacent to the various exhibition spaces:  the solo shows, the Guest of Honour country's display, and the (main) Illustrator's Exhibition.

But more on all of that in another post.  Suffice it to say that I have come back with a lot of inspiration and new insights and energy.  I'll be back, Bologna!

Re-bonjour!

I'm back!!

I took a trip (of which more soon) and this kept me busy with many preparations beforehand, and some follow-through afterwards.  And then out-of-town guests, and April in Paris™... basically, life happened!

But I am back now, and I have a lot to tell.  So stay tuned!