Points of Entry

From October 11 until February 22,2015 I am going to be part of a show of children’s book illustrators at the Bainbridge Island Museum of Art. The show is called Points of Entry.A few weeks ago Greg Robinson – the executive director and curator of the museum – came over to my studio to pick out work. He explained to me that the museum did not just want to have framed finished paintings up on the wall. He wanted kids (and adults) to have a way into those paintings.

He plans to accomplish this by showing sketches and false steps, digressions and diversions as well as finished book illustrations. This approach just feels right to me. In my life I do a lot of things – I make food and share it with friends, I paint for the pleasure of painting, I paint to illustrate stories,  I paint designs for fabric. All of these activities are connected and they spill into each other and feed each other.  There are mistakes and false steps along the way. It is an unusual opportunity to show the whole interconnected process. An example of Greg’s approach is how he plans to show Apple Cake, a book I wrote and illustrated in 2012.   The original seed for this book was my Great Grandmother’s recipe for Apple Cake. The text of the book is mainly the simple instructions on how to bake the cake. (The story comes in the wild ways that those instructions are carried out.) Greg asked me to track down the original recipe card. I wasn’t even sure it existed because Lily Jane Powell didn’t use written recipes, but my mother had a card that her mother had transcribed, battered by time and pin pricks; that card will be part of the show.   One of the paintings in the book shows Alfonso getting a bit of salt to put in the cake. (My grandmother didn’t use salt but I do.) That painting of a whale inspired this quilt, which will also be included.   So you can see the generous and open way that Greg and the museum are mounting the exhibition, and why they are calling it Points of Entry. This is all in keeping with the overall philosophy of the museum. The museum shows mainly artists from the northwest and it shows not only paintings and sculpture but also crafts and book arts. I will be in good company in this show: the other three illustrators are Woodleigh Marx Hubbard, Jennifer K. Mann and Nikki McClure.

Pug in a Pail by Woodleigh Hubbard

from May the Stars Drip Down by Nikki McClure

I hope that if you are in the Seattle area you will take the ferry over to Bainbridge Island and visit the show. Admission to the museum is free, and you can walk from the ferry terminal. There will be an opening from 2-5 on Saturday, October 11th. Come dip your toes in!

Nikki McClure paper cut

In The House of Illustration

I have been living in London almost three weeks now. My jet lag has worn off. My post-flight cold is gone. I am settling in and learning how to get around this amazing city.

For my first post as “foreign correspondent” for Books Around The Table, I chose to visit Sir Quentin Blake‘s “Inside Stories”, the inaugural exhibition at the recently  opened House of Illustration gallery space.

House of Illustration was begun in 2002 by a group of UK illustrators, led by Blake, to establish the world’s first “home for the art of illustration.” Over the next decade, the founders worked to raise awareness and garner funding to find a permanent home. In July of this year, they opened its doors in Granary Square, near King’s Cross, London.

“House of Illustration’s gallery and education space is the place to see, learn about, and enjoy illustration in all its forms, from adverts to animation, picture books to political cartoons and scientific drawings to fashion design.”

Blake pledged his massive archive of original drawings and illustrated books to House of Illustration, so it is fitting that the opening show be of his work.

I know Sir Quentin Blake’s work best from his illustrations for Roald Dahl’s books, but he has done hundreds of others (not all of them for children) that many of us from the US aren’t as familiar with. It was a wonderful opportunity to see so many of his illustrations at once, but even more valuable to see his thoughts, notes and preliminary sketches included as well.

The entry to the exhibit immediately immerses you in Blake’s world with a floor-to-ceiling drawing of his studio space. The case beneath presents you with insights into how Blake approaches his art.

(You must excuse the poor quality of these interior photographs, as I was surreptitiously snapping these shots with my smart phone on the sly. I risked admonishment for you, so please don’t turn me in to the authorities).

One entire room was devoted to Michael Rosen’s Sad Book. This was the part of the show that impressed me most deeply. Blake managed to balance sadness and joy with delicacy and subtlety. Perfect in its gentleness. I’m still thinking about those images.

Blake defines illustration as “drawing with a purpose.” That is the most accurate, least condescending definition that I have heard to date. It doesn’t try to fit it somewhere along a hierarchy between fine art and craft. It just says what it is.

And this is just the beginning at House of Illustration. There are four more exhibitions scheduled through June 2015, and I plan on being here for all of them. Stay tuned!

♦

To view two BBC interviews with Sir Quentin, visit this page, and this one.

The Big Why

Christian Krohg
[Norwegian Realist Painter, 1852-1925]

Why do you write? It’s a question asked of me recently and I was surprised by my answer.

It was asked by Linda Urban in a presentation she gave recently at the Whidbey Writer’s MFA program. Linda is the author of three middle-grade novels including “The Center of Everything” which got a lot of Newbery buzz last year.

Linda talked about finding your “big why?”

There are smaller whys. The reasons that underlies any individual story. Why are you writing it? Why does it matter?

And there’s a big why. Why do you write in the first place?

I was surprised to realize that there’s a link between the two for me. I’ve written all kinds of books from a picture book about the first ant in history to take a day off to a to a novel about a lizard who wants to be an artist to the stories of a grumpy bear and his friendship with an exuberant mouse.

I wouldn’t have thought they had much in common. But Linda’s question got me thinking about my work in progress—a new middle grade—and about what I most want kids to get from my work.

I think children’s stories do have a different tone, purpose, motivation, “ground” than adult stories and therefore have hopeful endings and characters who are growing rather than living lives of quiet desperation.

For me the most profound purpose and role of stories for children is “encouragement”. In the most fundamental meaning of that word. To give courage. The courage to live and enjoy and accomplish.

Because as a child you are a stranger in a strange land. What is this place? Why am I here? Am I safe?   Where am I going?   Am I capable of being in this place? Are the people around me capable?   Is life fun? A curse? A blessing?

A child doesn’t know. We don’t know. Stories are our way of exploring those questions. They are a way to experience a thousand lives and possibilities in one life.

To me that is the endless fascination of story. Why do we tell them in the first place? Why do we have such an appetite for stories? T.v., radio, books, movies, conversation. We are forever telling and listening to stories. They obviously serve a basic need. Yes, they are entertainment and they should be, but what do we find “entertaining” about them? They entrance us because they address our most fundamental questions in an interesting way.

Even a concept picture book serves this purpose. Say a playful rhyming book about color. Part of what it’s accomplishing is telling a child, a reader that life is fun. Life is interesting. Look. See. Enjoy. Isn’t this a fascinating place?

That’s the “why” behind an ant taking a day off or a lizard being willing to dream big or a bear who learns to celebrate friendship, birthdays and sleep-overs.

Gregory Muenzen

Children’s stories don’t have to paint a perfect world—in fact if they are too unrealistic they fail because children recognize we are lying to them–but they should present a world that is worth living in. Why would we feed our children a diet of cynicism and despair? As we get older we can entertain grimmer possibilities, but not as children. I think that’s why parents instinctively shield their children from certain stories and I think as writers we generally recognize that we want to accomplish a certain tone in our stories. It’s not because we’re not sophisticated enough to see beyond bunnies and happy dancing flowers and wee little elves. Stories for children are generally positive and playful and hopeful and joyful, because we recognize that is our basic purpose. To bring back word from adulthood to children that life is okay. You can do it. Come on in.

For me, that’s my big “why.”

 

 

AUDIENCE RESEARCH by Wise Owl

When it comes to knowing your audience, nothing beats spending some time with kids.

Recently I had just such a chance. Our triplet grandnephews came over for a night at “Camp Runamok.” They enter fifth grade this week. That’s the age of the protagonist in my middle grade novel-in-progress, so I have more than a great aunt’s interest in kids of their age. My writer self was not disappointed. They are fascinating: their expressions, their songs, games, ideas, interactions. But what hit me most of all is their relationship to story.

We made up camp names, had a treasure hunt, got started building rockets, set up a four-man tent on our scrap of lawn, ate pizza, played “Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater” many times on the piano, watched the movie Frozen, lit a campfire on the gravel driveway, sang, ate s’mores. I noted that ten-year old boys laugh a lot about bodily functions — as expected — but are also quite entertained by word play. These three are sportsy guys, so between planned activities there was lots of broom ball and jump rope and general messing around. We considered looking up how to throw a lasso on You Tube. We discussed the possibilities of the Mariners getting a Wild Card berth.

But what struck me most was how important stories are to them. They had seen Frozen once before, but wanted us to see it, so that’s the vid they chose. They knew it in detail, even down to reciting some of the lines. We sang along wholeheartedly, “Do you want to build a snowman?” and “Let it go, let it go.” They seemed quite satisfied with the conclusion, with how true love changes the world.

Bedding down in the tent – three boys, one dog and me – we got out the iPad to listen to their favorite scary story. This, too, they knew in detail from one previous hearing. The Axe Murderer. They loved being scared by it. They talked about some of their favorite books: Avi’s The Orphan City, Gary Paulson’s Harris and Me, James Patterson’s The Treasure Hunters, Cal Ripkin Junior’s series.

The boys’ deep response to stories points to a big responsibility. When we write for children, we hope to create stories that matter to them, that become part of how they see the world, that connect.

As the boys slept soundly, I savored the peace that was in our tent. And I wondered how to reckon such sweetness with news of beheadings, ebola virus, police violence, Russian invasions, sea star wasting syndrome, etc. etc.

I didn’t have an answer. But I do know stories can be a refuge. So I started telling myself a story about three boys and a dog camping in a tent under Seattle skies…