Gearing Up

 So, after brief absence, I have returned with the finished piece I was roughing out at the time of my last post.  Let's have a look at the Derby Racer horse in full bloom, with a self-portrait astride... I have plans for this illustration.

 

 I don't believe I've mentioned it before, but I'm shamelessly in love with my vehicle, a 1994 Caprice Classic station wagon.  I envision the old boy as a sturdy, reliable draft horse - loaded with power, yet possessing a sensitivity that makes long trips a sheer delight.  I adore that machine.  However, I had long wanted a mode of transportation that reminds me of a harrowing, exciting ride aboard a racehorse... in this case, a Derby Race(r) example.  That machine came along my way in the shape of this:

 A wonderful 2003 Stella scooter.  I recently learned that a dear friend had decided to part with it, and I hopped on the offer immediately.  Still in the process of becoming street-legal, I furthered my bonding with the scooter by coming up with this design.  The image will be printed on vinyl, and applied to the cowls (wheel covers), just above the checker border...

 ... a happy marriage of new design and existing trim, and characteristic of speed and movement.  I'm very excited to see how the whole picture looks.  The checkerboard continues in the model's dress, scarf and helmet, and her mount is a very close representation of Marcus Illions' impeccable Rye Playland carvings.  I insisted on a palomino, the colors of which lent themselves to all sorts of tonal joys in the horse's trappings.

 As usual, I incorporated metallic ink - this time in the tack hardware, and along the rear of the saddle blanket...

I am awfully fond of natural horn-colored hooves, and put them on this beast.  The ankles and fetlocks of horses are an honest-to-God treat to draw.

 

Finally, for the sake of shaking things up a bit, I'm posting two images of what my work looks like in the Land of In Between, when I am beginning to apply ink via nib and inkwell.  My last entry featured raw sketches - this is the final rendition of graphite on bristol, after many layers of finessing and contemplating the sketch into a line drawing.  It's a gradual process of refining and elimination of unnecessary excess - using tracing vellum, I make a carbon with a wood-less pencil on the back, and transfer the whole shindig to smooth bristol (400 series, don't waste your time with anything else.  I learned the hard way).

 One more, of the horse's girth strap.  Once the ink is applied and fully dried, I go through with a drafter's cloth eraser bag and gently remove the graphite.  Then it's on to the coloring process, and re-inking, if I so choose.  The process is at times terrifying (once you've gone through the experience of a hand-tremble after nearly finishing a piece, you learn to breathe at meditation-level as you work from that point on), but deeply rewarding.  I never learned a thing about computer-oriented graphic design, and frankly have no interest - for me, it's all about the process of working on paper, with relatively primitive tools.  A very, very deep joy.

Here's to the road ahead...

Horse Sense

 

  I'm certainly not alone when I say that I adore horses, and have for many years.  From my early years as a rider, to my first job as a stable worker, and now simply enjoying these beasts from afar - they have no peer when it comes to their balance of grace, power and silhouette.  They practically beg to be immortalized visually - and the countless examples of artistry depicting them show that I am far from alone in my experience.  I have a distinct type of respect for them and adore putting them on paper.

 At the moment, I'm taking a brief break from working on a piece that's harangued at me for many months - a cartoonish self-portrait aboard a Derby Racer horse.  For the uninitiated, these amusement devices in short terms consist of a circular horse gallery three times the diameter of a standard carousel, which rotates three times as fast.  When operated correctly, the four rows of horses stagger back and forth erratically, in effect "racing".  There are only three of these machines left in the world, a woeful truth, as the sensation of riding them is nothing short of exhilarating.  The finest example is at Rye Playland in Rye, New York - it is well run, and boasts the beautiful work of Marcus Charles Illions - known as the Kingpin of American carousel carvers.  His faces were incomparable, his carving technique without peer - he understood horses, and celebrated them in his work.  While I take a slew of liberties in my illustrations, I'm trying to capture at least a hint of his energy in this piece.  I don't often care to share the sketching phase, but wanted to document this one in case it finds its way to the trash, like so many others before it.

 And now to view a few other horses, from previous drawings that span several styles.  This little detail is from a much larger self-portrait drawn many moons ago, of my beloved apartment in Jersey City, New Jersey.  My bedroom was one of the most comfortable nests I've known, and inspired many deeply detailed pieces worked on at night for hours at a time.  This is a toy horse from the 1940s, in striped jersey with wooden hooves - he's still with me nowadays.

 

 Pulling back a bit, you can see that he's got friends - a corduroy seal and calico giraffe, as well as the boudoir doll I made in 1998, representing the aforementioned Taffy character.  The boudoir doll is still here as well - waiting his moment in the sun.  The few times I brought it into the City to show to friends, it caused quite a ruckus of fascination and queries from total strangers - they even spoke to the doll as though a benevolent spirit.  I still think he has a future of sorts.

Another carousel figure - this one a leery palomino, watching to the rear as his mistress reaches for a brass ring.  I've always had a terrible weakness for copper horses with flax manes - perhaps Roy Rogers' lineage as a fellow native Cincinnatian has had that effect on me.

 A wonderful, true-to-life illustration of a very special horse from the Dentzel carousel at Glen Echo Park, in Maryland.  This is one of the finest machines in the country, and this horse is lucky enough to wear the same paint it did upon leaving the factory in 1921.  This drawing was done for two dear friends who were married at the park - both fanatical amusement park history buffs.  They wanted a piece to adorn the carousel admission tickets they provided their wedding guests - there could be no better model than the Indian pony.

 

A tiny bit closer, to show the animal's lovely face.  While I am a die-hard Illions loyalist, the carvings of the Dentzel family are deeply respected, indeed.

 

 Finally, an old favorite that once served as the introductory page of my portfolio.  I believed in starting off politely when a prospective client viewed my book - particularly in the case of drop-off submissions, when I couldn't be there to speak for the work.  Taffy, aboard a palomino, saucily did the job for me.

 There is a pretty wry energy to these older pieces, and I can only guess that such an attitude was right for the late 1990s.  Editors loved this stuff, and many were able to utilize pieces straight out of the book.  Others were looking for a more subdued nature, and I gave it to them - but let them know very early on that there was a certain level of spice in what I did... and do.

Equines - realistic, cartoonish, linear and beyond, are such endless joys...

A Sheik, His Sheba, Several Skulls... and an Aerialist!

So, after a rather longish absence, I've returned with the final version of the earlier post - my trapeze artist, part of a local opening in September. The last entry showed the "bones" of the matter - here she is in finished form. As is my standard practice, I used Prismacolor pencils with pen and ink - there are also details of tinsel and metallic ink. A close up of her face:

She was a delight to work on - the colors are joyous, and the subject matter consistently brings a smile to my face. Happily, I'm currently at work on several other illustration projects - to be posted here, naturally!

And now, I present the Sheik and his Sheba...


Matt's orchestra, the Singapore Slingers, held a truly landmark concert on November 19th: "A Night in the Orient" - an evening devoted to the Orient-inspired popular music of the 1910s and 1920s. We both knew that he needed a suitable sheik's robe for the event - and rather than rent one, I felt it would be much wiser to make him one. After much searching through the racks at local fabric shops, fate arrived in the form of a Moroccan festival in a neighboring town. We snapped up beautiful woven blankets, an embroidered shirt and leather slippers - and I got to work. Thanks to an older (and relatively accurate) costume pattern, I made his robe, and fudged my way through his head scarf and zarouelles (draped pants). I couldn't have been more thrilled with the results, to be honest - and luckily, I was able to dress accordingly myself, in a ragtime-era costume I'd made two years ago. Here's another photo of Matt in action, during the show...


On other sewing fronts, I bumped into a fabulous remnant of material - just in time for Dia de los Muertos:


I had just enough to put together a 1950s reprint pattern - a circle-skirted, sleeveless dress with bias-tape shoulder bows. It's an ingenious design, and I get complimented every time I wear it. Here it is on the form, to give an idea of length and drape. If you look to the right, you can see the adorable doll I made about 12 years ago, during my time in New York City. He's based off of my illustrations, and has been a well-dressed traveling companion ever since. Someday I'll devote a blog entry or two to his creation - it was a remarkable experience.

So there you have it, at long last - the blog has been updated! Stay tuned for further news, no matter how soon or how late... I'm bound to stop by. And thanks for your patience - as I manage to become better organized with each passing project, things will pick up again on the posting front. Best wishes - and happy holiday preparations to all!

The Hunt is On...

This morning, a moment to check in, and state that I've given up my otherwise frugal practices... in order to go lamp-hunting. I've gotten as far as I can in the sketching phase, and finally admitted to myself that I'm spoiled, and require a halogen-based, magnifying affair on my work desk to proceed to the ink stage.

What's funny about this is the true nature of the spoilage... both of my lamps, before their timely deaths just prior to my Dallas relocation, served me well - but were salvaged from trash bins at the start. I never quite took them for granted, despite the low cost of investment, but hadn't considered the inevitable feat of replacing them someday. They showed up like Manna from Heaven - perfectly-suited accessories to my work. So, off to Ikea today, to get moving along with The Hunt.

A random, silly post I know - but I won't pass an opportunity to post a drawing or two, every couple of days. Here's to the next one - Success in the Invitation Department.

To Capture a Universe in One Small Drawing

Matt and I have at last settled on a date for our wedding. Although a sense of peaceful inevitability touches every aspect of our relationship, it still thrills me to think that there is a definite day set up for That Moment. And though we are pursuing a rather unorthodox event (lots of music, a potluck dinner, mismatched wedding party and even a javelina-styled piggy bank for generous offerings), invitations are a must in my mind - not only as a traditional announcement, but as an opportunity to send a bit of illustrative love to our friends and family.


I'm still not certain what will come from my hands tonight, as I sit down to sketch out a handful of concepts, to the tune of some classical music - most likely recordings of my father's lieder renditions. How should I encompass all that Matt and I are together, in one small drawing? Perhaps the invitation will be like a letterhead, crowned at the top with a spot... or bordered all around, with phonographs, carousel horses, station wagons and bass saxophones (just a hint at our wacky shared loves)... hard to say, and my mind gets a little jumbled at the thought of it. Once the paper is out, and the pencil is in my hand, the matter is sure to get a bit easier.



I've thrown in three pieces to show, in various ways and to different degrees, how I've "caught worlds" via illustration. The header is a tiny tribute to Vince Giordano and his Nighthawks, a NYC-based jazz orchestra - chorus girls surround a bass drum, emblazoned with the group's Electro-Voice logo. In the middle is the famous Illions Lincoln horse, which serves as the lead horse on the c.1919 B&B Carousell, currently in restoration for re-installation on Coney Island. Finally, a photographed detail of "Peacock Party", the first illustration I created for Matt - a tribute to his almost obsessive fixation on the Oriental fox-trots of the 1910s and 1920s.


With these having come from my hands, it's unlikely that a suitable wedding invitation piece will be pose too much difficulty for me... and once it's all settled in ink, I promise to post it right here.

Seeing Spots

A few years ago, I helped my good friends, Molly Ryan and Dan Levinson, redecorate their bathroom. "Bathroom", one would say - a simple feat. Not so, in this case - Molly and Dan are two immensely gifted traditional jazz artists, living happily in a charming Manhattan apartment - surrounded by books, music, historic photographs, instruments and a lifetime of truly precious artifacts. Molly came to me with the idea of transforming the bathroom into a "Trip Around the World" - bright red, with illustrated vignettes featured on every wall. I jumped into the project eagerly, of course.

Initially, I figured upon painting the scenes directly on the walls, but after some deliberation, I realized that creating the illustrations one at a time on paper, and subsequently applying them to the surface, made more sense. In other words, they would be done as Spot Illustrations - an industry term for small drawings used to "fill in" a printed story/article. They add flavor and interest - exactly what I wanted these to do for Molly and Dan's bathroom.

The pieces were drawn in waterproof inks on bristol, cut out with X-Acto blades, and finally affixed to the wall with a truly wonderful product, Mod Podge. This agent creates a strong, waterproof, wrinkle-free effect, permanently bonding the paper to the wall. Along with the illustrations, Molly picked out some wonderful maps, reprinted vintage postcards, shipment labels and hotel stickers... the overall appearance was delightful.

I've included three of the illustrations here - playfully representing Egypt, India and Switzerland. There were others (including France, which is shown in my second blog entry), but these three are particular favorites of mine.
The third may have something to do with the fact that my fiance' is an accordionist, and dirndls are an inherent element of the polka scene... call it a wild guess.

I think that I have something of a fondness for spot illustrations - they are direct, clean, precise and capture the message in a concise package. Many of my earlier drawings could be defined as spots - they feature strong images on white bristol backgrounds. I've come to greatly enjoy more environmental/situational work since, but my heart still sings at the creation of something so pure as a good spot.