shelley scraps

Memories of Yanesen

2013-05-20T12:58:00.000+01:00

My fascination with Japan originally stemmed from a love of Ukiyo-e woodblock prints and the history of old Tokyo, which soon expanded into a wider appreciation of the country. So when in the new year of 1987 I eventually set off to Japan I was determined to live in an area with historical connections to "old Edo" (Edo is the old name for the city).

A forgotten corner of Yanaka or Nezu in 1987

This actually proved more difficult than I'd imagined, as my very first residence, provided by my erstwhile sponsor, was right out on the very edge of Tokyo in a new town that was even younger than me. It took a few months before I could eventually find a place of my own choosing, by which time I'd had plenty of time to explore the old districts of the city. From the moment I first walked around Yanaka I fell in love with the area and knew this was where I wanted to live.

A typical scene in Yanaka in the 1980's. What is it like today I wonder?

The three districts of Yanaka, Nezu and Sendagi span the borders of Taito-ku and Bunkyo-ku wards, and together are known as the Yanesen district. Though part of the old city of Edo, Yanesen was always distinguished as a separate town of temples and shrines. Crucially, it was untouched by the 1923 earthquake and wartime bombing, so still retained much of it's ancient character, with numerous traditional wooden houses dispersed amongst the popular religious locations in the area. More residential and altogether more serene than the noisier jumble of other shitamachi (downtown) areas like Asakusa, Yanesen seems an oasis, full of cultural charm, surrounded by, but somewhat apart from the modern city, a bridge between old Edo and modern Tokyo, with a large number of traditional shops and businesses surviving. Or at least, so it was when I moved there in the Spring of 1987.

A favorite shop of mine, Isetatsu in Sendagi, famous as a specialist in Japanese paper. The shop is virtually unchanged today.

Memorial to one of my favorite Ukiyo-e woodblock print masters, Suzuki Harunobu (1725-70), and his muse Kasamori Osen (1751-1827), in Dai'enji Temple, Sendagi

Finding a place to live there was difficult though, because many rental real estate offices simply would not deal with foreigners, claiming they "had nothing available" before I'd even told them what I was looking for, or "the owners would not be comfortable". One even suggested I "try Roppongi". The fact was, few Westerners lived in the area and that's the way they wanted to keep it. Nevertheless I persevered, and eventually found an apartment in Ueno-Sakuragi, just off Kototoi-dori near Yanaka Cemetery, not an old traditional house as I'd hoped, but it was at least in the right region. I was a few minutes walk from Geidai and Ueno Park, Yanaka and Nezu were my local areas.

Stray cat in Nezu Shrine, which was (and probably still is) teaming with feral cats

I lived in the apartment for just one year, soaking in the history and aesthetic culture of Yanesen. During that time I photographed, painted and drew the buildings (most of the artwork now unfortunately lost), studied Japanese and worked on adapting my illustration portfolio for the Japanese market.

The view from my window towards Ueno, with Jomyoin Hakaen in the centre, top right can be seen the roof of the Kaneiji Temple

Yanesen was the perfect place for inspiration, I loved it to bits and would have stayed longer. However things were moving rapidly for me, and eventually escalating illustration commissions, relationships and other factors persuaded me very reluctantly to move uptown to the other side of the city. And there I stayed, much to my regret.

Very close to my apartment was the shop of a famous brushmaker

Yanaka 1Chome, 6 Banchi

Through the following years in Japan I moved home several times, but never went back to shitamachi to live. However, a couple of years after leaving the area I had the opportunity to once more walk around Yanesen. It was just two years since I'd lived there, but the change over that time was simply shocking. Several of the old wooden buildings I'd recorded had been torn down, replaced with ugly shoe-box buildings, or temporary car parks. A glaring 7-11 convenience store had opened on the top of Kototoi-dori. I was stunned - the character of the town was being torn apart.


3rd generation Shin Fuji Soba restaurant, which stood close to Nezu Station on Kototoi-dori. Watercolour sketch, Spring 1988

A photo I took of the same location in 1987

The same view today (from Google street view). The restaurant is still there (much spruced up!) but everything else around has changed.

On my most recent trip back to Tokyo this spring I had the chance to once more see a little of Nezu and Yanaka, 25 years after I lived there. It's still an attractive area, important buildings are just as I remember them, but so much of the rest has changed now the town was barely recognisable. This was one of the main reasons I never moved back to the region - the wanton destruction of the old architecture was just too sad to witness. I understand that wooden buildings were difficult to live in, many were inefficient and rundown, but it is possible to preserve the facade while renewing interiors.

Kawasaki Shoten on Kototoi Dori, 1-15 Yanaka, in 1987

The same location today

It's not all bad news though, Yanaka and Sendagi attracts tourists, buildings are being saved by people dedicated to preserving something of the old town's atmosphere, Yanesen has become a haven for artists and others looking for a lost part of Japanese culture. Many of these artists are people from outside the area, including foreigners - it's ironic that the very people who 25 years ago would have found difficulty moving into the area are now those who are safeguarding it's old buildings.

Nezu 2-Chome 33 Banchi in 1987 (my photo)

And the same location now (Google). Where's it gone!

Here I've posted some of my old photos from 1987-88, compared to Google street views of the same locations today. I've many more photos of the area, but virtually all my sketches from the period have been lost. If I find anything though I'll post it!

You can find more 'then and now' photos of the area by others comparing to the 1980's in this Japanese language blog.

Recent Doodles

2013-04-26T18:32:00.000+01:00

It's not just people sketching this Spring, I've been flexing the imagination as well.

These little sketchbook doodles are actually derived from real life. I bought a new bicycle recently, really. It doesn't look quite like this, but this is how I feel when I ride it.

Daughter really, really, REALLY wants a pet. Something cuddly and furry.

I say, wait until we move house.

Ah yes, our new house! Our lovely new house! Now that's been on my mind a lot recently....

There are a lot of things on my mind lately.... somehow it all gets rather twisted when it gets put to paper.

April Tokyo Train Sketches Part 2

2013-04-20T16:26:00.000+01:00

Here are some more sketches made earlier this month on Tokyo trains.

Den-en-Toshi line, evening rush-hour, yeay! I got a seat!

Den-en-Toshi line, evening rush-hour, These two drawings are the extent of what I could see from my seat

On this trip in particular I drew a lot of train passengers. Daughter and I were staying in familiar territory near Tama Plaza on the long Den-en-toshi line, which snakes from Chuo Rinkan in Yamato through the northern suburbs of Yokohama to the great hub of Shibuya, from whence it evolves into the Hanzomon line and continues eastwards through the middle of Tokyo. It takes around half an hour to travel on the express from Tama Plaza to Shibuya, but with the popularity of the suburbs beyond the Tamagawa river it's becoming increasingly difficult to get a seat, especially on the express even outside rush hours. It was often only when I caught the slower trains that I could sit and sketch.

Den-en-Toshi line, end of the day.

Whenever I could find a seat though I would quickly pull out my sketchbook and pen and secretively sketch away, hoping not to attract attention, which is actually quite easy in Tokyo because many people shut themselves off into their own worlds on trains, ignoring all around them, playing games on their smartphones, reading, sleeping (or feining sleep).

Hanzomon Line, daytime, Aoyama towards Shibuya

When will you get off? I don't know! You might change your position, or another passenger might suddenly block my view by standing in front. Quickly, rapidly I draw, secretly like a Ninja artist, seizing the fleeting moment. This kind of sketching exercise is full of excitement!!

Ginza Line bound for Shibuya

And I wonder, we are all on our own private journey's brought together in this metal shell rushing through the city. We are all en-route, I pry into your lives with my pen, what insights can you offer? What are you thinking? Where are you going? Where have you been?

Den-en-Toshi line, en-route to Azamino

Dear train passenger models, muses of public transport system! I thank you!
This is my stop, I must be off! Farewell!

Den-en-Toshi line, en-route to Azamino

Tokyo on the Train

2013-04-17T15:05:00.000+01:00

Daughter and I have just arrived home from another flying visit to Tokyo. As I was only in town for a couple of weeks it was a very busy time squeezing as much into each day as I could, most days spent zipping from one side of the city to the other. That's the way I like it though, Tokyo is a city in constant movement, it's a place to stay busy and on the move, a roaring metropolis. But it's also a place of fascination and beauty, filled with oases to dip into for much needed pauses.

Denentoshi Line to Shibuya

What I love about Tokyo is the contrast, on the one hand there's the sense of being lost in the crushing urban wheels of the city (which in itself can be a very comforting feeling), and on the other there's the discovery of gems: galleries, shops, cafes and other beacons of serenity and joy. It's these details that make the difference, though the city is a turbulent machine, it's filled with portals of tranquility.

Yamanote Line between Shinjuku and Ikebukuro

On this trip though a lot of my moments of calm were spent on the train, sketching away. From uptown Yamate to downtown Shitamachi, from fashionable Aoyama to suburban Yokohama, I traveled, and observed my fellow travellers. And here are some of them.

Chiyoda Line from Nezu to Meiji Jingumae

Inokashira Line from Kichijoji to Shibuya

Late night train, Denentoshi Line to Tama Plaza

Dozing highschool student. Morning train, Denentoshi Line to Shibuya

What I Love about Old Books

2013-03-21T12:24:00.001Z

There's so much talk about new technology, of tablets and Apps, e-Books versus print publishing, it's difficult to know where you stand sometimes. None of us wants to be left behind in this digital revolution, we're told that e-publishing is a path of opportunity for illustrators. That's good news, I'm all for new opportunities, I must admit to being amazed by what can be achieved with technology. Nevertheless I'm not sure where I personally fit into this heady world of new media. I suppose I'm enthusiastic for, but not an avid enthusiast of ebooks and their like.

The more I contemplate ebooks, the more I think back to why I pursued the publishing industry in the first place. I thought I'd take a moment then to post a bit about what I love about old books. And I mean old books!

Golden Age treasures

I became an illustrator as the result of a love affair with books, initially from childhood trips to the library, where I discovered Edward Ardizzone, Quentin Blake and E.H. Shepherd, and fascination with the illustrations in my mum's old 1920's volumes of Fairy Tales. Thereafter I became absorbed in coffee-table art and history books showing the work of painters, engravers and especially graphic masters like Hogarth and Rowlandson. And then at the particularly impressionable age of 15, came the discovery of the Golden Age illustrators: Arthur Rackham, Edmund Dulac, the Robinson brothers and their contemporaries, and I was transported, head-over-hills, to kingdoms far away. When it comes to books, I'm an incurable romantic.

In this post though, rather than the illustrators and their work I want to focus on the media - the printed books. Aside from the superlative quality of the art, the production of the books themselves was an inspiration in their own right, especially the lavish Gift Books of the era. Years ago I began collecting First and Deluxe edition titles from the Golden Age, mostly Arthur Rackham but others too, sometimes through auction, some via antiquarian bookshops. I won't go on about the years spent blissfully rummaging through the shelves of antiquarian and second-hand bookshops looking for hidden rare nuggets. Suffice to say - I'm a disciple, pen and ink masters have enraptured me throughout my career. Despite all the upheavals in my life over the years I still have a couple of bookshelves enshrined as homage to my heroes.

The first Gift Book I got hold of was this battered 1912 edition of Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens, which remains one of my favorite books illustrated by Arthur Rackham. Published by Hodder & Stoughton, it was printed by T & A Constable in Edinburgh.

What is the "Golden Age"? In loose terms, it's the period between the broad introduction of modern photographic 4-colour printing in the 1870's (when for the first time the work of illustrators could be reproduced exactly as the original art) and the close of the First World War, which heralded a change in publishing tastes and budgets.

What is a "Golden Age Gift Book"? Usually these were large sized (quarto or similar) books, often released to time with the Christmas season to be presented as gifts. Collected fairy tales, classics and modern fantasies were most common. The standard 'trade' editions were of cloth binding with inlaid gold lettered cover, often including illustration and designed by the illustrator themselves. In contrast dust jackets were often quite austere and surviving examples are rare today.

Cover of Milton's Comus with Rackham's Dust Jacket. Published by Heinemann, printed by The Cornwall Press in London in 1921.

The books were printed in letterpress on high quality heavy paper, with generously wide margins, and often interspersed with black and white illustrations. The pages were sometimes left untrimmed, leaving a rough uneven edge, all of which adds to the sense of quality.

The real stamp of the gift book though were the colour illustrations. As the process of photo-litho colour reproduction was quite new, colour illustrations were printed on separate sheets of coated art paper 'plates', which were glued down onto coloured mounting sheets, usually just along one edge, and covered with a sheet of tracing paper carrying the image caption. The tracing paper was ostensiably to protect the delicate colour image from rubbing on the paper, though it was soon clear this was unnecessary and the practice became more for show and to convey a sense of exclusivity. These were then bound into the book separately.

Deluxe edition of Rackham's 1907 Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - big margins, tipped in colour plate and tissue guard.

For me there is no other reading experience more satisfying than browsing through these books. The sense of lifting the tracing paper to see the gem of illustration beneath is a pleasure only books can give. These are books to be read with deference. The trade editions were intended to be read, re-read and treasured by children and adults, and they still have that effect today. There will never be an App that gives me the same glow as handling these old tomes.

Title page of the 1908 Trade first edition of Rackham's Midsummer Night's Dream. Again published by Heinemann, and printed by The Ballantyne Press in London.

More elevated still though are the signed deluxe limited editions. Ordinary Trade editions would run to 15,000 or more for their first impression, but for the top selling artists a limited number of specially bound deluxe editions would be printed, generally between 350 and 1,000 copies only, each numbered and signed by the artist. The deluxe editions were larger and heavier than the trade editions, usually bound in heavy buckram rather than cloth, with ribbon ties (few of these survive) and sometimes with an extra illustration. These are my Deluxe edition Rackham's :

These books demand a lot of respect. Running my fingers lightly over the page, I can feel the impressions of the text and black and white illustrations pushed into the surface of the paper by the blocks, the creak of the spine as I slowly, methodically turn each page, then the wonderful sense of anticipation as I reach a colour illustration and peel back the delicate tracing paper to reveal the image beneath. The limited editions have a more exclusive quality to them, the pages more difficult to turn, not for prying children's grubby fingers. And that kind of defeats the object of the book! So as reading books I actually much prefer the trade editions, though I still occasionally read to my daughter at night from signed copies of Rackham's 1909 Grimm or 1918 English Fairy Tales.

One of William Heath Robinson's greatest works, and long before the contraptions that made him a household name - The Works of Rabellais, originally published in 1904, this is the Navarre Society edition 1921, printed by Richard Clay & Sons in Bungay, Suffolk

Though such Gift Books went out of fashion in the 1920's, very fine books by smaller presses continued to be made until World War 2 knocked the stuffing out of the market. Fine books have returned since then of course. I've always dreamed of seeing my books made like those of my heroes. This is not an ambition with much likelihood of success, though I knew that before I became an illustrator. It didn't stop me dreaming though, I'll never forget the first time I handled these old books, my love for children's illustration and the Golden Age era in particular is what set me on the determined path to follow in the footsteps of the "greats".

It's not only the big Edwardian gift books I get excited about though, any old well illustrated book is liable to attract my attention, my collection ranges from books big or small, finely produced or WW2 budget printing. This is all in addition to the shelves of modern picture books etc. I've precious little space for anything now, though I did relinquish a lot of books when I moved back to the UK, some which I now regret.

War economy edition of Mervyn Peake's Household Tales by the Brothers Grimm, published by Eyre and Spottiswoode and printed by Chapel River Press in 1946.

The oldest books in my little collection are not children's books at all, but a handful of military diaries from the 1790's, published campaign reports of officers serving under the Grand old Duke of York in Flanders in the early wars of the French Revolution (it's a period I've long been fascinated by). Few of these are illustrated, but they do contain some beautifully detailed engraved maps and calligraphy. Though very different from the Golden Age books, I love them just as much. The sense of these works being published in the forefront of such incredible times adds to the fascination.

Frontespiece of the two volumes of

An Accurate and Impartial Narrative of the War, by an Officer of the Guards in Two Volumes Comprising the Campaigns of 1793, 1794, and the Retreat Through Holland to Westphalia in 1795. Published by Cadell and Davies in 1796.

Map of the Duke of York's position at Tournai, June 1794 in Jones's History of the British Campaigns of 1794 & 1795. Printed by Swinney and Hawkins in Birmingham 1797.

So that's my little indulgence. I don't add to the collection nowadays, budget, space and circumstances prevent that, but I'm holding onto what I've got. These books have travelled with me from the UK to Japan and back again so I'm not about to get rid of any of them soon.

E-books may be an exciting future for children's publishing, and I certainly aim to be part of that. But alongside the digital boom many publishers are saying that a new focus on collectable, well produced, carefully crafted books is also a way forward to re-ignite the traditional printed book market. I think that's very good news.

When in doubt......

2013-03-06T09:14:00.000Z

.....doodle.

Doodles on the train

2013-02-14T10:21:00.001Z

So yes, last weekend I was off on the train for a couple of hours, as promised I was drawing all the way. However due to the constraints of reserved seat allocation and tightly tiered seat layouts, many Eastern region trains don't offer themselves easily to sketch the other passengers. (That is a grumble, yes!) On the outward journey this is as much as I was able to see:

On the return I virtually had the carriage to myself, so again, no sketching from life. However, at times like these the pen has other invisible realms to explore ......

Train Sketches

2013-02-07T18:12:00.000Z

Some of the quick life sketches I drew on crowded trains in Tokyo last summer.

I find drawing on busy commuter trains exhilarating. You never know whether your view is going to be blocked as the carriage fills with people, or whether the subject is going to shift position, get off at the next stop, or notice they're being drawn and feel uncomfortable. The trick is not to draw the person in front of you but one sitting further down the carriage. You draw rapidly and surreptitiously from sideways glances, getting as much information down, as quickly as you can.

Dozing passengers are a safe option!

Often the resulting pen line can have a nervous energy that might be hard to achieve in more considered drawings, the white spaces have a natural compositional dynamism . I'm often surprised by the results.

I tend to draw more on Japanese trains than those in the UK, crowded trains with standing passengers offer unusual angles and it's easier on the Japanese networks because all the seats are against the carriage walls facing each other. London tube trains have similar layouts but more cramped so I find them a little too intimate for sketching passengers.

Tomorrow I'm off on a 2 hour train journey though, so if I get any drawing done I'll post when I get back!

Wingspan

2013-01-31T15:07:00.000Z

In the meantime and in an altogether different vein, here are some more of the small regular monthly cuts I do for Japanese airline ANA's inflight magazine Wingspan.

The Calcio Storico festival in Florence, Italy

Every issue the magazine runs a short nugget feature covering the weird and unusual things that happen around the world. Often they're very amusing subjects and a lot of fun to draw. However the drawings themselves are always gentle observations, not outright humour.

Hong Kong - A ship-shaped department store

Unlike my more detailed children's books, which are created on watercolour paper, for this kind of work I draw on a coated paper which results in a strong expressive pen line, a style I first developed for posters and other graphic work in Japan.

A Hotel in France where guests can live like hamsters

The drawings are scanned in, often assembled from several elements, cleaned up and then coloured digitally, sometimes using textures. I love the flexibility that this offers.

A restaurant in an Italian prison, where inmates serve the customers

I particularly enjoy this kind of work because it allows me to play around on the computer and explore graphic simplicity, though I don't regard myself as a "digital artist", everything still rests on a hand-crafted pen and ink drawing.

A restaurant in China run entirely by robots

My children's books are created almost entirely by traditional non-digital means which gives a natural resonance, but in these illustrations the stronger line and digital colouring provides a more dynamic graphic edge. This style of work appears to be unconnected to my pen and watercolour children's books, but in fact they both come from exactly the same pen, it's just the paper and colouring that's different. Just varied facets of the same realm.

The latest issue talks about a Ski Festival of Witches in Switzerland

Working Catch-up

2013-01-30T16:29:00.003Z

I've been quiet on the blog of late, in fact all social media, largely due to work on my latest picture book, Jane Sutcliffe's renaissance non-fiction The Stone Giant - Michelangelo's David and How He Came to Be. It's been an involving project in the pipeline for quite a while, with several interruptions (like an unforeseen house move!) but I'm happy to say the art work is now complete! Currently awaiting final approval before posting the art off, I'll be able to share some images shortly.

Desktop debris, in the middle of wrestling with Michelangelo!

New Year Greetings

2013-01-05T20:46:00.002Z

Somewhat belated 2013 greetings this year as I've been absolutely overwhelmed. Nevertheless it's still early, here's for a legendary Year of the Snake, may all your gorgons be gorgeous!

Seasons Greetings

2012-12-19T21:21:00.000Z

Yuletide best wishes to all my friends and followers!

Nebula

2012-11-29T16:51:00.004Z

Don't you know how stars are made?

Recent Doodles

2012-11-12T18:18:00.000Z

I've not posted any sketches for a while, largely because I've been grappling with a mountain of things from very involved deadlines to house moving. I have been drawing though in brief moments of solace, so it's about time I posted something! Here's a couple of meandering doodles....

John and the Beanstalk (feature for Ano Ne Magazine)

2012-10-09T09:00:00.000+01:00

I’ve been fascinated by fairy tales and fairy lore for as long as I can remember. Far more than contemporary fiction, as a child it was the tales of Grimm, Arabian Nights and Hans Andersen that really gripped my imagination. My mother had several old collected editions of these tales dating from her own childhood which she only produced at bedtime to read to us. With their classic Golden Age illustrations those books were for me hallowed tomes, things to be held in reverence which inspired my eventual path as an illustrator.

Jack and the Beanstalk Title Page border design

When Fukuinkan Shoten approached me to select and illustrate a classic English fairy tale I delved deep into research and initially proposed some rare tales that have yet to be adapted into picture books, however after discussion with my editor we eventually settled on the exuberant tale of Jack and the Beanstalk, as there is no 'default edition' of this story as a picture book in Japan. Fukuinkan wished to produce a classic, traditionally retold and illustrated version that will become the benchmark interpretation in Japanese.

Pencil sketch for the cover design

Jack and the Beanstalk has everything - magic, a mysterious stranger, ogres, a cloud world, and is packed with dramatic crescendos which would be a joy to illustrate. But more than this, the tale of Jack poses numerous unresolved questions both about Jack and of the land above the clouds, and the more I analysed these thematic conundrums the more fascinating the story became. To explore these aspects and offer solutions was both a challenge and a great pleasure.

Alternative variation for cover design (unused)

Jack and the Beanstalk is an ancient story passed down orally by storytellers from generation to generation. Partial elements from early versions have been recorded from at least as far back as the 17th Century and there are several variations, however the tale popular today has derived from two printed versions, a somewhat dogmatic adaptation by Benjamin Tabart published in 1807, later retold by Andrew Lang, and a more robust rendering later in the nineteenth century by Joseph Jacobs.

Tabart's 1807 edition of Jack, the first known printing of the story known today

I based my re-telling on Jacobs’s version which is regarded as the one that’s closest to the oral traditions, and with the most energy and directness, although it lacks a redeeming motive for Jack’s repeated raids up the beanstalk. Jack is unashamedly a thief, the reader is almost tempted to feel pity for the ogre and his accomplice wife. In Tabart’s version of the story Jack is given an excuse to punish the ogre, as the house in the sky is said to have once belonged to Jack’s father, who was killed by the ogre and Jack and his mother reduced to destitution. Though such a plot tidily wraps up certain aspects of the story it's a more laboured and moralising version. Overall then I chose to allow Jack to be a plucky scoundrel, I believe the ambiguity of his morality adds greatly to the story. Readers question Jack as much as the ogre.

Initial storyboard based on a 32-page format. The book eventually stretched to 44 pages.

Once I began on the illustrations other questions immediately demanded analysis. Who is the mysterious stranger who gives Jack the beans? What does he want with the old cow? Is it simply an excuse to give the beans to Jack? It seems Jack has been chosen to ascend the beanstalk, but why? And what happens to the cow thereafter? These are questions that almost require another book to explore, and I felt it best left unresolved in the text. The illustrations however could perhaps provide a few hints as to the fate of the cow and the connection of the strange man with Jack.

Jack meets the Stranger. First rough pencil sketch.

Pen and ink artwork before colouring

The final completed illustration

In the illustrations I tried to add details that make it as believable as possible. Although the story is a fantasy it has to be a logical world, so I began asking myself more questions. Accepting the absurdity that clouds can support a magical world in the first place, I wondered, does the ogre and his wife inhabit the cloud-world alone, or are there other houses, other inhabitants? As the clouds drift apart how do they get around? The ogre devours children and cattle, but from where does he get them? Above the clouds? Or does he have a way to descend to earth to prey on the people below? He obviously has a particular dislike of ‘Englishmen’.

Jack arrives in the cloud world

If the clouds can magically support fields and buildings then they would certainly support sailing boats too, and one thing there is plenty of in the sky is wind power! So in my world the clouds are islands of structures, settlements, fields and trees, connected by sky boats powered by wind, kept aloft on wisps of cloud. The ogre would have his own vessel to go hunting above and below the clouds.

Jack meets the Ogre's wife, vistas of cloud-land beyond

In addition to children and cattle one thing he almost certainly would come across all the time is birds! These would be like snacks for a hungry ogre, and so the kitchen has lots of birds and bird-cages. Considering the mechanics of the ogre’s realm enriches the fantasy of the story, there are connections with flying creatures throughout the book.

The Ogre's kitchen, with bird cages and feathered snacks

Another theme is the historical setting. I based the story in the period known as the Dark Ages in Britain, the time after the departure of the Roman Empire up to the Norman conquest. Around the 6th century AD the land was overrun by tribes of Angles (from southern Denmark) and Saxons (from Germany) - hence Anglo-Saxon - while the original inhabitants were gradually pushed to the far corners of the country. Folklorists have theorised that some stories of fairies and other creatures have their origins in tales told by Anglo-Saxons about the mysterious and secretive original tribes of the land - the Britons. My ogre then is a vestige of the older, defeated culture, and thus distinctly "Celtic" in dress and manner, whereas Jack and his mother are Anglo-Saxon.

Jack argues with his mother over the beans

Rags to riches thanks to the golden eggs, but still Jack seeks more

The struggle between Jack and the ogre is not only one of boy versus monster, but also a clash of cultures, of ancient races versus new invaders. This, then, is why the ogre hates “Englishmen” so much!

The 'Celtic' Ogre and his Wife

Then consider the ogre’s wife. Though a tall woman she’s not an ogre herself, yet she’s happily married to one. She doesn’t seem a particularly evil character, but is nevertheless willing to chop up and cook children for her husband’s dinner! What becomes of her after her husband’s demise is never explained in the old tales, however I imagine she comes off quite well in the end - she keeps the great house, and is free of the ogre, who could not have been the easiest of partners.

Inside the Ogres house

Historically Jack himself is almost certainly related to that other great “Jack” in English fairy tales - Jack the Giant Killer, another tale I’m very fond of, and currently the subject of an upcoming Hollywood movie, though it’s a sad story of violent persecution from the point of view of the endangered giants! The two fairy tales have much in common, in some versions of Jack and the Beanstalk the ogre shares a name (Blunderbore) with a giant in the other tale. All these stories probably come from the same group of orally related tales, condensed and honed over many years to the stories we know today. And yet there is one big difference often overlooked (and certainly missed by Hollywood) - In the Beanstalk tale Jack is faced by an Ogre, not a Giant - there is a clear difference. Ogres are always man-eaters, the definition of an ogre is that they eat people. They're often hideously ugly and although sometimes big, they're not as big as giants! On the other hand Giants are often portrayed in the old tales as simply very large men, slow-witted, covetous, destructive and occasionally murderous perhaps but not usually cannibalistic.

Jack steals the money bag. Note the size comparison! The coins are headed with Ogre kings.

We have only to consider the items stolen by Jack to confirm this: bags of money, the golden egg laying chicken, and finally the harp - if these were 'giant sized' Jack would not be able to carry them. If on the other hand they were 'human sized' they would be too small for a Giant to worry about. So definitely, not a giant, but a large ogre. Hollywood take note!

The Ogre in pursuit of Jack

Right behind you Jack

Calamity!

Unusually for fairy tales Jack does not marry a Princess after his return, but instead goes into business with his mother touring their treasures around the country. I really like that idea, it gives the story an earthy realism after the fantasy of the ogre. They become rich, and live happily, they need no more than that. I’m still wondering about the green man who bought the cow though, what happened to the two of them? Perhaps the ogre’s wife knows something, but she’s not telling....!

Final page image

(This post is the English-language transcription of a feature I put together for the October 2012 issue of Ano Ne magazine in Japan.)
Jack to Mame no Ki (Jack and the Beanstalk) retold & illustrated by yours truely and translated by Yuko Obika, is available internationally from Amazon Japan.

Halloween Forest - working process

2012-10-03T15:09:00.000+01:00

Want to know how I brewed up the creepy artwork for Halloween Forest? The dark secrets of the forest are about to be revealed! It's a long post so lock your doors, settle down with a cup of of your favourite brew, and read on, muwahahaha.....

Artwork for the wrap-around cover. The title was originally envisaged to cascade downwards between the branches

As every book is different, I always strive to approach each project with a clean slate, as if it's the first I've ever illustrated. The materials I use are are fairly established, so it's the way I approach the project, my response to the text that determines how the book will take shape. I dislike books where the illustrator slaps the same branded style on whatever manuscript they receive without adapting or exploring to harmonise with the world of the author. I always try to match my work to the tone of the text. Nevertheless, in terms of production technique I do have an established process for creating books and Halloween Forest is quite a typical example of this.

detail from page 16-17

In the case of a picture book written by another writer (as opposed to my own composition) the very first impressions are crucial, often the emotional impact of the first reading can form the germ of the final illustration. It's important to get these ideas down on paper immediately, so before I began reading Marion Dane Bauer's text I made sure I had pen and pencil at hand for jotting. As I read, I noted page breaks (i.e. the natural point where text will roll onto the next page), and jotted down any ideas that immediately came to mind in tiny thumbnail shorthand on the same sheet, like so:

Raw text as received, with my initial notes

Deciding page breaks with Halloween Forest was quite straightforward because the book is in verse, each stanza roughly equated to either one page or one spread (double page) of the book.

Thumbnail jottings helped to establish some of the initial rough look of spreads. I have a cinematic way of planning images, I imagine the scene as if it were a stage, then consider a variety of poses or designs to find the best "camera angle", lighting etc. Often a very elaborate illustration can grow from a tiny compositional note. I then turned to doodling in a sketch pad in pen to explore details suggested by the story, the look of the central character, and some of the visual conundrums created by the text, such as how to visualise a forest of bones.

sketchbook doodled ideas

With some ideas thus loosely established, I then started planning the book spreads by using a storyboard such as this, still keeping everything very rough and fluid:

32-page storyboard before starting on sketches

Each square represents a double page spread of a 32-page separate ended book (that is, a book that has separate paste-down endpapers). This allows me to plan the whole book out on one sheet, because everything is small and loose I can change things around easily, scrub out, redraw etc, without any major reworking involved. Often I use post-it notes to re-organise page breaks or move ideas around until I'm happy with the overall planning. I had five or six spreads already fixed in my mind, certain 'crescendo' spreads that would provide the foundations, I developed the remaining connecting spreads around them, looking to establish a rhythmic flow of images through the book.

With the basic planning fixed and ideas of the details in sketch books etc, I then began to draw more elaborate images for each picture in pencil on A4 size paper, one sheet representing a double page spread. These sketches, though larger than the thumbnails, are therefore still considerably smaller than the final artwork.

alternative idea for wrap-around cover (unused)

pencil sketch for the spread on pages 12-13

Pencil enables you to easily establish the tone of each picture, some images rely very much on drama created by shadows and highlight. This was a very exciting stage, as the book really began to take form, with details of line, depth and mood established.

Halloween Forest is undeniably a scary story for young children, but at the same time full of fun and rollicking energy. In the illustrations I aimed for a balance between spookiness and humour. The skeleton creatures crawling from the bone forest had to be convincing, but also attractive as characters. I was trying to create a warm glow of acceptable Halloween fright in the reader, finding the right level between scary but not truely frightening was a delicate challenge.

From the town to the forest, sketch for spread on pages 8-9

finished art for spread on pages 8-9

Once the whole book was drawn out I scanned each sketch, then in Photoshop and In Design darkened the lines, tweaked proportions, added text where necessary, and emailed the whole dummy book to the art director as a pdf file. The publishers are in America, I was in rural England, but we could have been next door to each other, ah! the wonders of technology. There were a few editorial revisions, most importantly to the last climactic pages, where it was felt there needed to be a house at the heart of the forest as the character is going trick-or-treating. So I dropped one image, adapted and brought another forward one page, and drew a new final spread of a house for page 30-31 (more on which below). Thereafter the book was given approval and I could begin on the final artwork.

cancelled image - this sketch was dropped and text rearranged so I could fit in a house spread at the end of the book

Using a photocopier, I enlarged copies of the sketches to the final size of the book. Often I work at 115% or 120%, that is to say the artwork is slightly larger than reproduction size of the book, which helps to sharpen definition of detail when it's reduced for printing. The full sized photocopies were then traced in pencil onto watercolour paper using a light box. Finally I was ready to begin inking and painting the illustrations.

Halloween Forest was a very intuitive book which flowed very smoothly, the drawings were straight out of my imagination with very little research, however for reference and to give me a real feel for the subject I looked at a lot of photos of animal bones, which were a great inspiration as well as providing direct reference, though I don't claim that every skeleton is anatomically correct!

Many of the characters were a balance between visual accuracy, fluidity of image, and animated character.

Detail from page 22, I foolishly drew this little bird right across the trim so it was unfortunately cropped in the printed book!

Not every spread is of the forest and bones. At key points of drama I included colourful graphic images designed to jolt the reader and emphasise a turn in the narrative, in these spreads in particular I could play with font layout. As the text was laid out by the designer I gave directions in the sketches as to how I envisaged the words should appear, the design team did a wonderful job in following through with this.

spread on pages 20-21 from the printed book

ditto, pages 24-25

Finally, to show the progression of a single illustration here's a series of images of the last climatic spread on page 30-31 in the process of creation.

part way through inking with india ink

completed pen and ink drawing before colouring

at work on watercolour

Individual sections of tree were back-filled in two colours and water, which is why I'm holding multiple brushes.

defining sepia edges on the skull house

filling in the door

The painting in watercolour almost there

And finally, voila! The completed illustration.

Halloween Forest on general release!

2012-10-01T11:08:00.000+01:00

At last it's out! Scheduled for July, but postponed until the Autumn. Now, finally, today, the picture book Halloween Forest is on sale in bookshops across the US and online!

Author Marion Dane Bauer has blogged about the book here.

Publishers Weekly and Kirkus Reviews have also given the book a thumbs up. Starred review no less!

Here's a few images from the book (artwork scans before text)

I'll talk about some of the processes involved in creating the illustrations in my next post.

Autumn in the Air

2012-09-26T12:23:00.000+01:00

Alas! Cold winds are blowing, the golden leaves will fall.

Jack and the Beanstalk

2012-09-19T09:00:00.000+01:00

Here it is, my latest book!

Published by Fukuinkan Shoten on 10th September in Japan, ジャックと豆の木 (Jack to Mame no Ki) is a 44 page picture book, re-told and illustrated by yours truly from the traditional tale, translated by Yuko Obika.

The book can be ordered online from overseas via Amazon Japan.

ISBN-10: 4834027414
ISBN-13: 978-4834027419

Tokyo Wrap Up

2012-09-18T16:33:00.000+01:00

I'm finally back home after a successful show at Space Yui in Tokyo.

Japan was wonderful for both daughter and myself, though it was very much a 'working holiday' for me. For the first month I was largely focused on meeting deadlines, producing work for the show and other such business, so not so many opportunities for socialising and enjoying the summer break. However the hard work was all worthwhile in the end, the exhibition at Space Yui was a tremendous success. My deepest thanks to Kimura-san and all the other staff at the gallery.

Setting up the show in the gallery (photo courtesy of Space Yui)

In addition to the artwork from 'Jack to Mame no Ki', limited edition prints and the original images drawn for the show, Space Yui also produced some T-Shirts from the unfinished artwork to my next book The Stone Giant. Although the artwork is yet to be painted in colour I had some scans of the ink drawings in black and white stage, which were perfect for the T-Shirt and made a very big impact on the show attendees.

In Space Yui Gallery modelling the t-shirts produced for the show

One of the numerous drawings developed from sketchbook images sold during the show

Legendary zoologist, TV personality and author Mutsugoro (Masanori Hata)

I didn't take many photos, but I've posted a very few snapshots of the attendees and more of the displayed work on my Facebook feed

Finally the exhibition was over and daughter and I were able to finally relax. Straight after the exhibition we were invited by my editors at Fukuinkan to the Nagano mountains to stay in a Besso (country cottage) and research our next book. It was a wonderful tonic after the stifling heat of Tokyo!

Seren in Kobuchizawa with Roa and Yuriko

Finally back in Tokyo I was just in time to enjoy the release of Jack to Mame no Ki on 10th September!

Fukuinkan section in the Tama Plaza branch of Yurindo Bookshop. Jack gets centre stage!

Tokyo Exhibition

2012-08-27T01:13:00.001+01:00

Today's the first day of my show in Tokyo, this promises to be an interesting week!

Half the show is focused on my forthcoming picture book "Jack to Mame no Ki" (Jack and the Beanstalk), showing original artwork from the book such as this:

and this:

The Gallery has produced some fabulous limited edition prints, these two images from the book, each with a print run of 20, will be available through the Space Yui online shop even after the close of the show.

In addition to the book artwork I'm exhibiting two large originals from the Art Print Japan/Disney collaboration, which some may remember I showed on the blog a while back:

The remainder of the show consists of a profusion of smaller pieces specially created for the exhibition, many of them developed from sketches I've previously posted on the blog, such as these:

Together with some new drawings like this:

Finally the gallery has also created some T-Shirts from images for my book on Michelangelo's David, which is actually still in production! The T-Shirts and all the images except the 'Jack' artwork are for sale. I'm extremely grateful for all the tremendous support and help given by the dedicated gallery staff.

So there's something for everyone. If you're in Tokyo this week do drop in!

Adventures with a Pen

2012-08-18T07:09:00.000+01:00

Announcing my Exhibition in Aoyama, Tokyo.

Adventures with a Pen
John Shelley exhibition
27th August-1st September
At Space Yui
http://www.spaceyui.com
(nearest station - Gaienmae)

Recent voyages with my trusty companions, Mr Pen and Mr Ink. On our intrepid journey we wandered from the land of fable to the land of illusion, three travellers across a landscape of paper and imagination.

The show will include illustrations from the forthcoming book ジャックと豆の木　Jack to Mame no Ki (Jack and the Beanstalk), plus original art for sale, T-Shirts and limited edition prints.

I'll be in the gallery from around midday most days. Please drop by and say hello!

Tokyo Summer

2012-08-07T03:06:00.001+01:00

As some may know, I'm back in Tokyo all through the summer, to organise an exhibition (more on that shortly), run a workshop for SCBWI Tokyo on the 19th, see as many old friendly faces as possible, and basically to just re-connect with my former home of 21 years.

It's very good to be back, even though school holidays dictate daughter and I are here at the hottest time of year. Most people here can't understand why I would want to come back to Japan while the Olympics are on in London, and in this heat. Fortunately I love the Japanese summer. There's a unique ambience to the city at this time of year, things slow down, less bustle, more time for contemplation.

Last night I dreamed that Tokyo was like an ice cream slowly melting in the heat. In reality it's not exactly as cool as ice cream, and it's the people who feel melted, not the city.

I always have a lot to contemplate when I come back here, most of it connected to the sudden death of my wife in 2007 and subsequent decision to return to the UK. Maki's presence is always with me, but never more so than when I tread the familiar streets of Tokyo. The comfort of intimate knowledge here pulls me back. This still feels like home, it's like an old familiar musical instrument that you can just lose yourself in, make beautiful sounds with. I don't feel the same connection with anywhere in the UK, even after 5 years back there. It's definitely time to move on from the past and become more enthusiastic with life in England.

It's been 2 years since I was in Tokyo last, this has been the longest time away from Japan since I lived here. Some things have changed, superficially the shops in Shibuya and other places, but still it's the same old city. One thing that has surprised me is the invisibility of the Tsunami and Fukushima in Tokyo. Outside the under-reported demos, Tokyo just carries on as it always has, last years' disaster is almost completely invisible. Such stoicism and willingness to "stay calm and carry on " is both reassuring and worrying. People are willing enough to relate their memories of the earthquake, but no-one generally talks about the ongoing problem of Fukushima. There's a sense of resignment, of helpless resentment in the face of challenges. The government has never listened much to the wishes of the people in the past, so the mechanism for effective dissent is underdeveloped, there are plenty of opinions, but most people stay on the wings. There is much talk of the nuclear issue of course, yesterday was the anniversary of Hiroshima, there was much on the TV, some comparisons with Nuclear energy in Japan today. The media is covering the issues to a point.

But generally, life just carries on as it always has. Hot, sultry, vibrant and determined. If Tokyo melts it won't be due to sunshine. Despite the mixed emotions and loneliness coming back here I'm enjoying Tokyo immensely, though I am missing the euphoria of the London Olympics a bit. Unless you watch things live (late at night) Japanese TV only shows the progress of Japanese athletes, so I've only seen snippets of the Olympics. Oh well, can't have everything.

Michelangelo in Monochrome

2012-07-23T10:00:00.000+01:00

Things are so hectic right now I can hardly stop to think. Daughter and I have just moved house, and before we have a chance to unpack we'll be off to Japan for the rest of the summer where I'll be exhibiting and running a workshop. Nevertheless I've just time to post a few images of work-in-progress from my current project, a non-fiction picture book by Jane Sutcliffe, The Stone Giant, the story of Michelangelo's creation of the statue of David, which will be published by Charlesbridge in the United States sometime, erm..... after I've finished! The house move and Tokyo trip have inevitably put things on hold for the moment, but I've completed all the pen-and-ink line work and will get straight into painting watercolour when we get back from Tokyo.

So here's a sneak preview at the black and white stage!

Naturally a lot of research was necessary (and boy did I love that!), and in some cases a degree of estimation. I hope the results are not too far off the mark.

I'm trying to steer a path between imagination and historical accuracy, a flavour of the period, and a flavour of me so to speak.

The final spread showing a panorama of the Piazza Signoria from the Palazzo Vecchio. There are no historical images from this angle that I know of and none of these buildings exist now, so a lot of detective work was required to estimate the architecture of the square in the Renaissance. Fingers crossed the experts will be happy!

Dandelion Summer

2012-07-09T17:11:00.000+01:00

Wishing all my friends and readers the best for a Dandy Summer!