Monday, July 11, 2016

Searching for Genevieve

Just put the search term "Genevieve" into the box on my blog. This is one of the things that came up, from 2011. Her house felt magical.

From 2011:

Here are some pictures from Genevieve Castree and Phil Elverum's house and church/studio in Anacortes, Washington. I stayed there on my way from Seattle to Vancouver, and it was awesome. Genevieve gave me a little jar of the most delicious tart cherry jam she'd made, gave me a tour of town, and told me the craziest story about Phil's great grandmother adopting a chimpanzee. Anacortes is great. I liked it there.


Collage of photographs of clouds and trees.
Spider Webs for Halloween, by Genevieve.
A small sample of Genevieve's studio. The one original page she had out (she's working on a book for D&Q) was kind of mind bogglingly beautiful. Nobody has such a thin, delicate yet confident line. And she pencils in orange.



The house reminded me a little of people's deceptively small, but liveable houses in New Hampshire, where my Dad lives. It might have partly been the residual smell of wood smoke.
Their flat files are nicer than mine.
Globes
Readying for a show the next day.
Some Croatian Neighbors had commissioned this painting of a seaside Village in Croatia, and then didn't like it. So they gave it to Genevieve and Phil. They have so far resisted the urge to paint a sea monster attacking the town.
My studio is smaller than this.





Sunday, July 10, 2016

Genevieve


I really really don't want to have to gather my thoughts about this. My friend is gone.

Over the last year she would deflect the question she kept getting about whether she was "still working". Her answer was, basically, "no" She was too tired, too spent, too preoccupied with trying to live. But I was able to visit her at home twice in the year that she was sick and both times there were many bits and pieces of half-finished and carefully crafted things everywhere you looked. She was still working. She couldn't have stopped if she'd tried, I don't think. But she changed her tune (at least to me) a month or two ago, determined to bring art back into her life (I didn't mention that it seemed to me like it never left). Last week as I was packing up my life to move to Portland, I got a text from her with this image, along with one of her desk, strewn with others like it. She was working until the end. She was one of the most impressive people I've ever known. I can't believe she's gone.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Tree Island with Unicorn and Pop-Cup

I just did a new board collab with Uprise, my old shop in Chicago. Stoked to work with those guys on this. They even let me mess with their logo on the back. You can order one at their site, then go learn slappies on the curb outside your house.

Saturday, May 28, 2016

A Walk in Eden

I'll post more about this when the book is released next Fall, but I spent the last several months working on a coloring book titled A Walk in Eden, finally turning in the final files last week. It was originally commissioned by Ginkgo Press in Beijing and will be released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly. It loosely follows some of the other Garden of Eden drawings I've done in the last few years and shares a (secret sub)title with that of another large drawing I did in 2012... so yes, there is a very loose narrative to it. Most of the actual drawings comprise ten-to-fifteen page continuous panoramas. A gatefold in the middle showcases a few of these, but the rest of the book is, of course, necessarily made up of two-page spreads. A few of the original landscape drawings, in all their white-ink/cut-and-paste-y glory, are on view now as part of a special two-person show called Side Projects at Lula in Chicago through late Summer. I may try and make an accordion-book version of the best of these in the Fall if I can manage it. But for now, here are some snippets I captured for instagram (mostly) while I was working:










Friday, May 6, 2016

Some Golden Books and the Rainbow Book of Nature

Came across some really lovely illustration last month in various travels. I think I'm old enough that classic Golden Books still felt like normal, semi-current kids books when I was a child. Last month I came upon a friend's forgotten collection and found that they feel, now, like they are from a different age. Which is funny because you can see clearly that some of them probably felt very advanced when they were made – there are clear modernist touches in some of these with the emphasis on flat shapes and idiosyncratic self-conscious stylization. Others are more traditional and classic, of course. The bears and the rabbit(s) are early Richard Scarry, from when he was still lingering longer over his drawings.





Can't get enough of Little Red Riding Hood's amazing competing check patterns, here.



I also really love the style mash-up of the back cover template illustration. I remember lingering over it as a kid. There's something extremely compelling about usually separate fantasy worlds colliding. It feels faintly subversive in some way, like that the boundaries of reality are permeable. If Bugs Bunny and Mickey Mouse can escape their worlds into a shared universe, maybe you can, too... or maybe they'll end up in yours. It's pleasingly meta. Note the individual copyright information with its complicated footnoting, labelling each character in an attempt to shore up those boundaries and wall off that sense of possibility. And imagine the legal battles that would prevent anything like this image from being mass-produced today.
and here's a similar idea, but with non-copyrighted fantasy worlds. This was a book I found in a Portland antique shop. Three little pigs, meet Davy Crockett. Where the hell are they all going?
Lastly, here are a few illustrations by Rudolph Freund for the Rainbow Book of Nature, from the 70s, which I found forgotten on a shelf in an unused room in a different house. I love this sort of thing, too. The artist is doing a semi-scientific observational naturalism, but he's also interested in making beautiful drawings. Old bird guides are like this as well, it's a holdover from when art and science were still not fully separate disciplines. A book like this now would likely be full of photographs, which can be done well, but where one often loses clarity in a misguided emphasis on the apparent objectivity of photography.




Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Comic Tragics Show


Just got a clutch of photos from the Comic Tragics show at the Art Gallery of Western Australia in Perth. From the looks of it they did an amazing job framing and matting everything I sent. Just one drawing alone is seven feet wide and almost five feet tall. It looks like an amazing show. The big drawing is Adam and Eve Sneaking Back into the Garden to Steal More Apples. Also shown here are a large rootball drawing, the originals from Me and the Universe, original art for  posters I did for both Autoptic and the second Brooklyn Comics and Graphics Festival, a bunch of pages from Dogs and Water, The End, Big Questions and Don't Go Where I Can't Follow, sketchbooks with some early versions of pieces from The End, a one-of-a-kind accordion book, Captain America Resting and a drawing of a car engine. Huge thanks to Robert Cook and to everyone who mounted the show.