Lines and Colors art blog
  • Gustaf Tenggren

    Gustaf Tenggren
    Swedish illustrator Gustaf Adolf Tenggren had his roots (and judging from his illustrations, wonderfully gnarled and knotted roots they were) deeply into the rich soil of Scandinavian myth, and the fertile influence of other great illustrators, most notably the terrific and underappreciated John Bauer, who Teggren succeeded as the primary illustrator for Bland Tomtar och Troll (Among Elves and Trolls), a famous fairy tale themed children’s annual in Sweden.

    Tenggren also inherited stylistic elements from other great illustrators who influenced, and were influenced by, Bauer, in particular Kay Neilsen, Edmund Dulac and the amazing Arthur Rackham. Teggren moved to America (though he continued to illustrate Bland Tomtar och Troll from here for six years) and worked illustrating books in a lush, Rackhamish style full of dark, art-nouveau forests, marvelously grotesque trolls, stunning princesses, and wonderfully stylized characters of all kinds.

    After a stint at Milton Bradley, the game company, he went to work for The Walt Disney Company and was one of the main concept artists on Disney’s groundbreaking Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, and contributed significantly to Pinocchio and Bambi.

    The amazing Animation Archive has come through again and has posted high-res images from Tenggren’s beautiful Grimms Fairy Tales. Here are part one and part two. They also have a post of his illustrations for Small Fry and the Winged Horse. Click on the images for larger versions. The American Art Archives has also posted some of his commercial illustrations, some of which show Howard Pyle’s influence.

    Teggren was an amazing illustrator, but for reasons I haven’t been able to divine, abandoned his beautiful Bauer/Rackham/Neilsen style after leaving Disney and adopted a more prosaic style (to put it politely) for illustrating children’s books. His new style, though dull and lifeless to me in comparison to his former work, was quite successful commercially and he published a series of books with his name in the title, in addition to working on such famous Little Golden Books at The Poky Little Puppy.

    He never returned to his previous style after leaving Disney and reportedly destroyed much of his older work (AKKK!). Perhaps he ran into some real trolls at Disney?



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  • Brian Taylor

    Brian taylor
    When I first encountered Brian Taylor’s work in 2001 it was in the form of a fascinating project called Rustboy (images above, top row), a web site created to chronicle the progress of his desire to create a CGI animated movie on his own, from concept sketches to final renderings, using only home computer level software.

    I have checked back over the years to see little advanced or changed on the site, other than the addition of some spin-off merchandise and a book collecting the concept work for the project, and I was afraid the the movie project itself was, well,… rusting.

    It turns out that Brian has turned the notoriety gained from that project (the site was/is beautifully designed and got a fair bit of notice around the web in the early ’00s), along with a fevered imagination, strong design skills and a savvy sense of internet marketing, into a successful line of products and projects; and has handed the Rustboy project off to professionals, giving himself the luxury of overseeing it without having to do the work five people in order to try to bring the character to the screen.

    Taylor’s most visible current project is called Candykiller (image above, bottom), and is a series of self-published books offered directly through the Candykiller.com site, and a line of Candykiller figures in the works through Wheaty Wheat Studios. (I can’t give you direct links to the products because the site is in a single Flash file.)

    The Candykiller site has a gallery the illustrations from the books, in a style that’s sort of 1930’s animal character cartoons meet Tim Burton by way of Basil Wolverton on a bad acid trip kind of character design that fits into the general area called “Pop Surrealism”. There are other influences, of course. You can see flashes of Rick Griffin, Robert Crumb and other 60’s underground comix artists, and I love his Tales of the Candy Killer mock comic cover homage to the EC Mad comics (see my posts on on Wally Wood and Will Elder), not to mention his hilarious drawing of Godzilla with a Viewmaster for a head. Some of the images are 3D renderings of unreal toys, some are the real figures in production.

    There is a nice illustrated interview with Taylor in the new issue of Illo. You can see more of Taylor’s professional work on his XL5 Design site.



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  • Christophe Vacher

    Christophe Vacher
    Before relocating to California in 1996, French artist Christophe Vacher worked for Disney’s Paris-based animation studio, painting backgrounds for features like The Hunchback of Notre Dame. (I want to know how the pitch meeting went for that movie. “Hey, I’ve got a great idea, let’s make a cheerful animated feature about… The Hunchback of Notre Dame! Sure! It’ll be a musical, with singing gargoyles…)

    Anyway, it wasn’t Vacher’s job to figure out how absurd the idea was, just to make the backgrounds look great; that he did, and continued to do for movies like Hercules, Tarzan, Dinosaur and Treasure Planet.

    He left the studio in 2000 to devote more time to gallery paintings, but has continued to freelance for film studios as well as illustrating covers for books, CD’s and video games, with clients like Dreamworks SKG, Harper Collins, Wizards of the Coast and Data Becker Videogames. He returned to Disney to art direct an animated segment for the upcoming live action film Enchanted, and is slated to art direct a new 3D CGI movie produced by Tim Burton.

    The galleries on his personal site are divided between movie backgrounds, personal work and covers, though I can’t give you direct links because the site is in frames. The “Personal” gallery also includes some pencil sketches.

    Vacher’s personal work tends to be fantasy oriented and often deals with beautifully rendered images of monumental objects, fortresses, walls or cliff-like chunks of rock, floating in defiance of gravity, much in the vein of Magritte’s Castle of the Pyrenees, but on a more dramatic scale. He also favors dramatic large scale landscapes, fantastic cloudscapes and graceful angel-like figures.

    Vacher paints in oils alkyds and acrylic. He list among his influences the painters of the Hudson River School (see my post on Frederic Edwin Church), the Romantics and the Symbolists (see my posts on Caspar David Friedrich and Arnold Böcklin), who he admires for their grand scale theatrically displayed scenery.

    Vacher’s work has been featured in the Spectrum collections of contemporary fantastic art, including being chosen for the cover of Spectrum 10, and is included in The New Masters of Fantasy disk-based collections.

    There is a step-by-step process of one of his paintings on GFXArtist, and a nice additional gallery of his work on the TenDreams site.



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  • J.J. Grandville (Jean Ignace Isidore Gèrard)

    Grandville
    How cool would it be if we could actually see the whole intricate pattern of the influences of one artist on another that make up the brilliant, if ragged, cloth of art history. The best any one individual can hope for is glimmers and flashes of interconnectedness where the pattern reveals a small portion of itself, a brief hint at how the whole is tied together.

    Occasionally we see threads that seem connected behind the surface in some way, an indication of a nexus of influence under the cloth, where parts of the pattern are pulled together and rewoven, an indication that some artists are seen more through their influence on other artists than in the wide recognition of their own work.

    The more I investigate the work of engraver and illustrator Jean Ignace Isidore Gèrard, more commonly known by his pen name J.J. Grandville, the more I see his influence on other artists. Though he was tremendously influential on artists in his own time and on generations to follow, his own work and name have undeservedly faded almost into obscurity.

    Grandville’s brilliantly imaginative pen and ink style engravings from the early 1800’s were one of the seminal sources of modern cartooning, comics and fantastic illustration, as well as numerous styles of fantastic art.

    If you’re familiar with the Dadaists and Surrealists, who were quick to extol the virtues of artists they saw as precursors of Surrealism, it’s easy to see how Grandville’s fantastical drawings of griffin-like animal mash-ups, which he called “metamorphoses” and to which he devoted an entire book titled Les Animaux (The Animals), would be enough to put him high on their list; but his fantastic visions of anthropomorphic plants, audiences of opera goers whose heads have been replaced with single eyes, fancies of drawing instruments come alive, mechanical musicians and people with overlarge or tiny heads and otherwise distorted figures made him a shoo-in for the Surrealist hall of predecessors.

    Max Ernst, in particular, demonstrates tremendous influence by Grandville in his Surrealist collage-novel (or graphic novel, if you will) Un Semaine du Bonté (A Week of Kindness).

    The next thing I discovered about Grandville’s influence on other artists is how dramatically his work informed Sir John Tenniel’s wonderful and definitive illustrations for Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Not only was Grandville’s style, treatment and subject matter inspirational to Tenniel in his interpretations of the Alice stories (to the point where Tenniel might be accused of “borrowing” some elements of Grandville’s drawings), I later realized that Grandville’s animal “metamorphoses”, his bizarre characters, anthropomorphic insects, plants and animals, and his visions of fantastic scenes like his tableau of playing cards come to life, were direct inspiration for Charles (“Lewis Carroll”) Dodson himself in writing the stories.

    Grandville entertained us with dancing teapots and cavorting flowers a century and a half ahead of Disney. His city dwellers wiith distorted body shapes, often with heads disproportionate to the body, or with exaggeratedly tall and thin juxtaposed with squat and short, showed up both in Mutt n’ Jeff in the early 20th Century and Yellow Submarine in the 1960’s and his steam-powered musicians presaged steampunk by two centuries.

    Thomas Nast and the generations of political cartoonists that were to follow, owe more than a nod to Grandville (along with Hogarth and many others). All modern cartoons involving social commentary can trace a thread back to Grandville, and the influence is certainly evident in the underground comix artists of the 1960’s, undoubtedly through the availability of a wonderful Dover book that I’ll recommend to you at the end of the article.

    You can certainly see Grandville in the marvelously imaginative and wonderfully drawn fantasies of Heinrich Kley, the sketches of Jan Faust, the fantastic etchings of M.C. Escher and many others.

    Some of Grandville’s illustrations can seem tame and ordinary, depending on the phases of his career, but many are wonderful flights of fancy.

    Wild-eyed demons in top hats invite angels to dance, celestial garden keepers water both flowers and pedestrians with umbrellas, anthropomorphic lightning rods prepare one another to catch bolts, stage hands raise the curtains of night and use a gas lamp igniter to light the morning sun, an eclipse is revealed to be the result of a passionate embrace of the sun and moon, watched voyeuristically by astrolabes and other celestial mapping instruments, characters ares shown walking across celestial bridges or juggling planets.

    Some of his drawings were playful explorations of perspective, many are fantasies of anthropromorphicised drawing instruments, and in fact mechanical devices in general; Grandville was active when the industrial revolution was just getting up steam (sorry, couldn’t resist).

    Some are simply incomprehensibly bizarre, others are marvelous images that I can’t fathom the origin of, like the one in which dice, dominos, war medals and Egyptian obelisks grow like rock crystals.

    Many of these drawings would be even more powerful if we understood the social context in which they were presented and the follies of which they were meant to satirize. He was engaged in social commentary, and was in that respect essentially a cartoonist, though his drawings are realized with a wonderfully controlled, richly detailed but clearly stated pen and ink like engraving style that would be worth study by anyone interested in creating prints or applying ink to paper (or drawing with the digital equivalent).

    Fortunately, Grandville’s terrific drawings are available to modern audiences in several books, most notably an excellent and inexpensive Dover book, out of print but available used, Fantastic Illustrations of Grandville (Dover Pictorial Archives), which I believe is a repackaging of an earlier Dover book, Bizarreries and Fantasies of Grandville, my copy of which is dog-eared with years of delighted use. It collects his two most influential works, Les Animaux, and Un Autre Monde (Another World), which was a story loosely woven to tie together many of his existing illustrations so they could be issued as a book.

    The best online source I’ve found for Grandville is on Visipix. Once you get past a pop-up ad and some other annoyances, there is a thumbnail gallery and click-through for 179 of Grandville’s drawings, many of the from scans of his two most famous books, the editions of which, apparently, had hand-applied color on some plates. While clicking through the drawings with the convenient “Next, Previous, Thumbnails” style navigation, you can choose at any time to view them in one of several resolutions, allowing you to breeze through them and then view your favorites in glorious detail. Wonderful!

    It’s interesting to note, as this article in Time Magazine points out, that Grandville’s influence extends to the fact that, even though he has been dead since 1847, he has been, along with David Levine, one of the two major illustrators for The New York Review of Books in the 20th Century.


    Grandville is on Visipix
    Article from Time Magazine
    Bio on WGA
    Fantastic Illustrations of Grandville (Dover Pictorial Archives) (Amazon link)
    Bio on Wikipedia, largely taken from the 1910 edition of Encylopedia Britannica

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  • Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School

    Dr. Sketchy's Anti-Art School, Molly Crabapple and Steve Walker
    Hey all you non-artists: want to know a secret? Shhhhh! Don’t let this get out, and I hate to spoil any idyllic illusions you may have, or that your artist friends have encouraged you to have, but… drawing nude models isn’t particularly sexy.

    There, I said it. Don’t look at me that way! It’s true. Hey, I promise you I’m a healthy, red-blooded, heterosexual male, and some of the models I’ve drawn over my years of attending life drawing session have been astonishingly beautiful women; but when I’m drawing them, sexy is not the operative word. Not that you can’t make sexuality, and the physical appeal of an attractive model, part of a drawing, but you actually have to work at it.

    I discovered this, much to my amazement, as a teenager (talk about healthy and red-blooded), when I first started to attend life drawing classes in art school. My fellow male freshmen and I were looking forward to the first life drawing class, our tongues prepared to hang out of our mouths in leering anticipation, as much as the freshmen girls were undoubtedly prepared to look down their noses at us at the first sign of impropriety; but the school cooled our jets with somewhat unattractive (but actually quite good) models for the first few sessions.

    Eventually, though, the session came when we were presented with a very attractive young woman to draw; but, after about 6 seconds of leering, we found ourselves caught up in the process of drawing, as we had been in the previous sessions, and only realized at break time that we had been drawing a beautiful young woman for half an hour and it didn’t matter!

    Part of it is the setting, of course; art schools and professional artist organizations that sponsor life drawing sessions know how to keep things professional and straightforward, and so do experienced models and most artists with any life drawing experience. It’s more than that, though, it’s the fact that the act of drawing involves a different way of seeing.

    I found, even as an easily, um… excitable teenage boy, that once you start drawing a person, even a very attractive naked person, you are no longer seeing in the same way. Though you know intellectually that you are drawing a woman, and can be cognizant of the fact that it’s an attractive woman, that’s not what you’re seeing. When you’re drawing, you’re not seeing a shoulder or a breast, as much as your seeing shapes, angles, curves, lines, juncture points, shadows, intersecting forms and complex spatial relationships. All of these things go together to make a drawing of a person, but you’re not looking at that person the same way when you’re drawing as you would be under other circumstances.

    I would venture to say that the same applies to women drawing attractive men, or people who are attracted to those of their own gender; the principle is the same. (I’ve found in my years of drawing, though, that male models are scarcer then female, and tend not to be as good at it. It may be that women are more conscious of how to exert subtle control over their bodies in holding a pose, or it may simply be that fewer men are willing to deal with the fact that life modeling is much harder work than it seems, and the pay is usually terrible.)

    Yes, as I mentioned, you can inject sensuality and sexuality into the drawing, but it’s actually hard work. You have to consciously shift slightly out of your drawing mode of seeing/thinking far enough to see the model as an attractive person, but not so far as to lose that precious seeing state in which you can draw effectively. Some think of this mental adjustment in and out of a drawing mode of seeing as a left-brain, right-brain shift (see my post on Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain), which may or may not be scientifically correct, but it’s basically a move from the usually dominant verbal/logical mode to the harder-to-access visual/spacial mode that lets you see what’s in front of you without interference from verbal-brain chatter.

    I eventually learned, though, when drawing a woman I was involved with, in private, it was, of course, much easier to put the sexual component back in (though drawings would often go unfinished…); and the professional art school or artist organization setting actually does have a lot to do with keeping it dry and unsexy.

    So the question arises, why not something in between? Why not have an occasional setting in which the professionalism of art school is tinted with a bit of naughtyness to put the “sexy” back in drawing sessions?

    That’s the idea behind Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School, brainchild of illustrator Molly Crabapple (seen above sketching with “helper art-monkey” Steve Walker, along with her sketch of the session, inset). Crabapple “draws saucy Victoriana for magazines” and used to work as a life model when she was in art school. Her boredom with posing for those classes prompted the creation of Dr. Skecthy’s as a series of sessions that combine drawing with a bit of burlesque and theatre.

    As models, she searches out, in her words, “the most beautiful burlesque dancers, the most bizarre circus freaks, and the most rippling hunks of man”, and hosts drawing sessions on every other Saturday in Brooklyn. The sessions are often punctuated with a bit of theater, silly drawing contests (best incorporation of a woodland animal, best left-handed drawing), prizes and drinking. The Brooklyn Dr. Sketchy’s sessions take place in a bar/restaurant called the Lucky Cat Lounge

    The sessions are three hours, like many life drawing sessions; but, though the stated goal is to answer the question “Why can’t drawing naked people be sexy?”, the models in this case are actually not nude. This is due to the fact that New York has an ordinance prohibiting nudity and drinking in the same room. The models pose in sexy costume and are selected on the basis of “being heart-stoppingly gorgeous, possessing a unique talent (trapeze, contortion, sword-swallowing, burlesque), or extraordinary costumes”. The models are also paid better than in normal life drawing sessions and, very much unlike art school sessions, can receive tips. You’re beginning to get the picture, and Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School bills itself as “what happens when cabaret meets art school”.

    The brooklyn sessions apparently fill up fast and the seating is limited. You can reserve a table early for an extra fee. The schedule is here. The Dr. Sketchy’s sessions have been so successful that they have expanded to other cities and there are now over 20 locations. The Dr. Sketchy’s site has even posted a “How to start a Dr. Sketchy’s” page. There is a board where participants can discuss the sessions and post their work. There is also a photoblog, and a few short videos, including a “trailer” done up the scratchy black and white style of Reefer Madness, about “depraved students driven mad by art”. There is also a Rainy Day Coloring Book available, and Dr. Sketchy’s is accepting submissions for their first annual Anti-Art Show.

    Obviously, this is not the venue for serious minded study of figure drawing, and is different from regular figure drawing sessions in other respects (no easels, no oil-based or other “messy” media, though watercolor is OK), but it looks like a fun alternative to the usual unsexy life drawing sessions most artists are used to. Plus you’re allowed to leer at the models. Too bad they didn’t have Dr. Sketchy’s when I was a teenager.

    Note: the Dr. Sketchy’s site should be considered NSFW (depending, of course, on where you work).



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  • Women in Art, a morphing history of women’s faces in paintings

    Women in Art, a morphing history of women's faces in paintingsOK, I’ll admit it, I’m a sucker for well done “morphing”, in which one image is gradually changed until it blends with and evolves into another. I also love the intersection of classical art and modern computer tech (as in these animations of da Vinci’s drawings), and as both as both an artist and a male human being, I love to look at the faces of beautiful women, so I really enjoy this beautifully done morphing excursion through a history of women’s faces in paintings.

    From Medieval frescos to Picasso, numerous painted images of women’s faces, most of them strikingly beautiful both as women’s faces and as paintings, blend into one another in a dreamy, if disconcerting, dance of liquid pixels. Face after face, style after style, artist after artist swirl and morph into one another like one of Dali’s hallucinogenic soft constructions.

    It makes you want to grab your art books and start looking up the original paintings to see them in their original setting as you watch the ingenious comparisons and relationships the filmmaker has found to connect them to one another.

    The film is from a YouTube based director identified only as “eggman913”, whose other videos can be found here. I don’t see any easy link to more information about this individual, but he is obviously knowledgeable about art history, and has good taste in paintings.

    You can have fun playing “name that painting” or even “name that artist” with your friends, or just think about how women have been represented over the history of art, the differing standards of what was considered “beautiful”, the evolution of painting materials and the development of artistic techniques and styles.

    Repeated watching also leaves you with a renewed fascination with the relationship of facial features and how they define an individual, the art of portraiture and the amazing ability human beings have to see vast differences in the subtle arrangement of the shapes, distances, colors and spatial relationships that make up a face.

    The blending of styles is sometimes harmonious and sometimes a jarring juxtaposition, which makes the mention of the vid on Juxtapoz all the more appropriate. The original is on YouTube.

    I originally heard about this both from BoingBoing and from Karl Kofoed

     


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Vasari Handcraftes artist's oil colors

Charley’s Picks
Bookshop.org

(Bookshop.org affilliate links; sales benefit independent bookshop owners; I get a small percentage to help support my work on Lines and Colors)

John Singer Sargent: Watercolors
John Singer Sargent: Watercolors

Sorolla the masterworks
Sorolla: the masterworks

The Art Spirit
The Art Spirit

Rendering in Pen and Ink
Rendering in Pen and Ink

Urban Sketching: Understanding Perspective
Urban Sketching: Understanding Perspective

World of Urban Sketching
World of Urban Sketching

Daily Painting
Daily Painting

Drawing on the right side of the brain
Drawing on the right side of the brain

Understanding Comics
Understanding Comics

Charley’s Picks
Amazon

(Amazon.com affiliate links; sales go to a larger yacht for Jeff Bezos; but I get a small percentage to help support my work on Lines and Colors)

John Singer Sargent: Watercolors
John Singer Sargent: Watercolors

Sorolla the masterworks
Sorolla: the masterworks

The Art Spirit
The Art Spirit

Rendering in Pen and Ink
Rendering in Pen and Ink

Urban Sketching: Understanding Perspective
Urban Sketching: Understanding Perspective

World of Urban Sketching
World of Urban Sketching

Daily Painting
Daily Painting

Drawing on the right side of the brain
Drawing on the right side of the brain

Understanding Comics
Understanding Comics