Tag Archives: Fairy tale art

Camille Rose Garcia’s “Snow White”

“Snow White” is getting exhaustive play in the media right now, for reasons unknown. I’m not complaining, mind you, but I do enjoy watching stories rise to the forefront of the collective unconscious. The latest entry into the “Snow White” media maelstrom is an illustrated version from underground sweetheart Camille Rose Garcia.

Art dealer extraordinaire Kirsten Anderson wrote a feature article for art wonderland Hi-Fructose:

 

Hi-Fructose favorite Camille Rose Garcia (Volume Eight) is following up her successful interpretation of Lewis Carroll’s ” Alice In Wonderland” with a new illustrated version of the Brothers Grimm story “Snow White” and exhibition of the complete works for the book at Michael Kohn Gallery next month. Illuminating Garcia’s trademark witchy line art with her easter egg color palette- this book is sure to delight her legion of fans! Garcia will be signing books on her West Coast book tour at the end of March so check to see if she will be swinging by a city near you! View more preview images from the book and exhibition below. -Kirsten Anderson

 

Hop on over to Hi-Fructose to see more images!

 

Fairy Tale Friday: The Enchanted Pig

Kiss me, you fool!

Would you marry this pig?

Today’s fairy tale (a Romanian tale from Andrew Lang’s Red Fairy Book) is essentially a version of “East of the Sun, West of the Moon,” but with a sweet, strong twist of “Bluebeard” at the beginning. Favorite motifs include: an enchanted pig!, self mutilation, a poignant explanation of why the sun is grumpy every night when he comes home, and did I mention the enchanted pig? Who brings all the pigs of the world with him when comes to woo the king’s youngest daughter? I love that part.

As an aside, the Folio Society released a heart-breakingly exquisite edition of the Red Fairy Book. Check it out.

THE ENCHANTED PIG

ONCE upon a time there lived a King who had three daughters. Now it happened that he had to go out to battle, so he called his daughters and said to them:

`My dear children, I am obliged to go to the wars. The enemy is approaching us with a large army. It is a great grief to me to leave you all. During my absence take care of yourselves and be good girls; behave well and look after everything in the house. You may walk in the garden, and you may go into all the rooms in the palace, except the room at the back in the right-hand corner; into that you must not enter, for harm would befall you.’

`You may keep your mind easy, father,’ they replied. `We have never been disobedient to you. Go in peace, and may heaven give you a glorious victory!’

When everything was ready for his departure, the King gave them the keys of all the rooms and reminded them once more of what he had said. His daughters kissed his hands with tears in their eyes, and wished him prosperity, and he gave the eldest the keys.

Now when the girls found themselves alone they felt so sad and dull that they did not know what to do. So, to pass the time, they decided to work for part of the day, to read for part of the day, and to enjoy themselves in the garden for part of the day. As long as they did this all went well with them. But this happy state of things did not last long. Every day they grew more and more curious, and you will see what the end of that was.

`Sisters,’ said the eldest Princess, `all day long we sew, spin, and read. We have been several days quite alone, and there is no corner of the garden that we have not explored. We have been in all the rooms of our father’s palace, and have admired the rich and beautiful furniture: why should not we go into the room that our father forbad us to enter?’

Sister,’ said the youngest, `I cannot think how you can tempt us to break our father’s command. When he told us not to go into that room he must have known what he was saying, and have had a good reason for saying it.’

`Surely the sky won’t fall about our heads if we DO go in,’ said the second Princess. `Dragons and such like monsters that would devour us will not be hidden in the room. And how will our father ever find out that we have gone in?’

While they were speaking thus, encouraging each other, they had reached the room; the eldest fitted the key into the lock, and snap! the door stood open.

The three girls entered, and what do you think they saw?

The room was quite empty, and without any ornament, but in the middle stood a large table, with a gorgeous cloth, and on it lay a big open book.

Now the Princesses were curious to know what was written in the book, especially the eldest, and this is what she read:

`The eldest daughter of this King will marry a prince from the East.’

Then the second girl stepped forward, and turning over the page she read:

`The second daughter of this King will marry a prince from the West.’

The girls were delighted, and laughed and teased each other.

But the youngest Princess did not want to go near the table or to open the book. Her elder sisters however left her no peace, and will she, nill she, they dragged her up to the table, and in fear and trembling she turned over the page and read:

`The youngest daughter of this King will be married to a pig from the North.’

Now if a thunderbolt had fallen upon her from heaven it would not have frightened her more.

She almost died of misery, and if her sisters had not held her up, she would have sunk to the ground and cut her head open.

When she came out of the fainting fit into which she had fallen in her terror, her sisters tried to comfort her, saying:

`How can you believe such nonsense? When did it ever happen that a king’s daughter married a pig?’

`What a baby you are!’ said the other sister; `has not our father enough soldiers to protect you, even if the disgusting creature did come to woo you?’

The youngest Princess would fain have let herself be convinced by her sisters’ words, and have believed what they said, but her heart was heavy. Her thoughts kept turning to the book, in which stood written that great happiness waited her sisters, but that a fate was in store for her such as had never before been known in the world.

Besides, the thought weighed on her heart that she had been guilty of disobeying her father. She began to get quite ill, and in a few days she was so changed that it was difficult to recognise her; formerly she had been rosy and merry, now she was pale and nothing gave her any pleasure. She gave up playing with her sisters in the garden, ceased to gather flowers to put in her hair, and never sang when they sat together at their spinning and sewing.

In the meantime the King won a great victory, and having completely defeated and driven off the enemy, he hurried home to his daughters, to whom his thoughts had constantly turned. Everyone went out to meet him with cymbals and fifes and drums, and there was great rejoicing over his victorious return. The King’s first act on reaching home was to thank Heaven for the victory he had gained over the enemies who had risen against him. He then entered his palace, and the three Princesses stepped forward to meet him. His joy was great when he saw that they were all well, for the youngest did her best not to appear sad.

In spite of this, however, it was not long before the King noticed that his third daughter was getting very thin and sad-looking. And all of a sudden he felt as if a hot iron were entering his soul, for it flashed through his mind that she had disobeyed his word. He felt sure he was right; but to be quite certain he called his daughters to him, questioned them, and ordered them to speak the truth. They confessed everything, but took good care not to say which had led the other two into temptation.

The King was so distressed when he heard it that he was almost overcome by grief. But he took heart and tried to comfort his daughters, who looked frightened to death. He saw that what had happened had happened, and that a thousand words would not alter matters by a hair’s-breadth.

Well, these events had almost been forgotten when one fine day a prince from the East appeared at the Court and asked the King for the hand of his eldest daughter. The King gladly gave his consent. A great wedding banquet was prepared, and after three days of feasting the happy pair were accompanied to the frontier with much ceremony and rejoicing.

After some time the same thing befell the second daughter, who was wooed and won by a prince from the West.

Now when the young Princess saw that everything fell out exactly as had been written in the book, she grew very sad. She refused to eat, and would not put on her fine clothes nor go out walking, and declared that she would rather die than become a laughing-stock to the world. But the King would not allow her to do anything so wrong, and he comforted her in all possible ways.

So the time passed, till lo and behold! one fine day an enormous pig from the North walked into the palace, and going straight up to the King said, `Hail! oh King. May your life be as prosperous and bright as sunrise on a clear day!’

`I am glad to see you well, friend,’ answered the King, `but what wind has brought you hither?’

`I come a-wooing,’ replied the Pig.

Find out what happens when a pig comes a-wooing.

Last-Minute Present: James Jean Collection of Cover Art for Fables

James Jean's Snow White

 

If you’re at a loss for a last-minute gift for the fairy-tale nerd in your life, consider this: The newly released collection of James Jean’s Fables cover art. I’d describe it in loving detail for you, but there’s no way I can out-do the publisher’s own press release.

Now, for the first time, the exquisite FABLES covers by James Jean, winner of multiple Eisner and Harvey Awards, whose diverse clients include Prada and Pepsi, are collected in one extraordinary volume!Perfect for any art-book library or FABLES completist, this volume includes never-before-seen sketch material, along with insightful commentary and remarkable insights into Jean’s creative process. Also included is an afterword by celebrated FABLES writer/creator Bill Willingham. Designed and annotated by the artist, this deluxe, oversized hardcover includes ten vellum sleeve inserts, an embossed case and other fine art details that make FABLES: COVERS BY JAMES JEAN as elegant and unique as the FABLES covers themselves.

James Jean, in case you hadn’t heard, is a genius artist whose portfolio includes art videos, a stunning collection of paintings and drawings, and, most importantly for you right now, this collection of covers from Bill Willingham’s wildly popular comic series, Fables(Fables is the comic book that inspired the TV series Once Upon a Time.) It lists for $50, but Amazon is offering it for $31. Jean’s portfolio site is also exceptional, with a selection of prints, jewelry, textiles, and other goodies for sale directly from the artist.

For those who’d like learn more about the world that inspired Once Upon a Time, Clockwork Storybook hosts a lively, robust forum dedicated to all things Fables. Willingham himself hangs out there and chats with fans, so it’s a great place to get a behind-the-scenes, authentic sense of the world, its author, and the folks who love it. Fabletown fans can also peruse reviews of the various collected volumes on Goodreads, or just take a chance and buy Fables Vol. 1: Legends in Exile from Amazon and see firsthand what all the fuss is about.

Check out Jean’s crazy video for Prada – I’ve posted it before, but it’s always nice to visit this weird world again:

 

Tim Shumate: Disney Never Looked So Good

You can ring my Belle any day

"Till the Last Petal Falls" by Tim Shumate

 

Give your favorite Disney fan some saucy, original artwork this holiday season AND support an independent artist all at the same time. Tim Shumate has five fantastic fairy tale prints for sale over at Society 6, and each one costs just under $20. It’s good for your budget, it’s good for the economy, and it’s good for art. When it comes to gifts, it’s hard to beat these prints for sheer, unvarnished virtue and style.

Who's the fairest of them all?

"Waiting for Love's True Kiss"

 

Shop the rest of Tim’s awesome gallery.

 

The Art of Malcolm Bucknall: I didn’t know bears had such nice boobs

You’d probably imagine that a kid coming of age in a small, Texas, swamp town in the ’80s would have no choice but to listen to country music and muck about in the bayous trying not to get eaten by alligators. But strangely enough, a different path opened to me, just as wide and easy and obvious as if it were the only one: punk f-ing rock. For whatever reason, Port Arthur, Texas, had a thriving punk rock culture in the ’80s, and I ate it up with youthful abandon. My friends and I skateboarded around the oil refineries, we went to Houston to see bands whose names were dorky acronyms (SNFU, DRI, MDC – I am not even kidding), and we drove around in our crappy, old cars blasting the most offensive music we could find as loud as we could.

And of all the offensive music we could find, the music of the Jesus Lizard [link N(entirely)SFW] was up there at the top of the list. Raw, atonal, screeching, profoundly obnoxious – the Jesus Lizard was dazzlingly rude. But secretly that was not my favorite thing about them. What really caught my attention was their album cover art. It was…exquisite. Disturbing. Masterful as a Renaissance oil painting, and almost as profound. What the fuck was a nasty band like the Jesus Lizard doing with album art like that?

I mean, right?

So punk.

Well, it turns out that the band was friends with a guy whose dad happened to be a world-class oil painter who was weird as hell and an incredibly good sport: Malcolm Bucknall. (Later I found out that Mr. Bucknall was my best friend’s uncle. They had me over to dinner one night in their grand, Victorian house in Austin, TX, and I nearly died of hero worship.)

Beautiful Beast

What do you think, deer?

Malcolm Bucknall’s paintings are massive studies in sensual, uncomfortable surrealism. He uses the painstaking techniques of traditional oil painters to graft animal heads onto the bodies of Elizabethan lords and ladies, like fairy tale characters lost in the twilight lands between worlds.

The Most Beautiful Day

This baby grew up to be a health care lawyer.

 

It’s easy to imagine the subjects of Bucknall’s paintings making deals for one another’s souls, or being tricked into giving up three wishes to eager heroes and heroines. His recent work has moved away from oils and into watercolor washes and line drawings, but it’s no less masterful and weird.

There there, Bare Bear

Check out the rack on that bear!

 

If you like Malcolm Bucknall’s work, you can peruse a rich, satisfying archive at his gallery site. He’s represented exclusively by D Berman in Austin, Texas, and there’s a decent interview with him on the site.

What Kind of Fool Am I?
HRH Willie Nelson

Did I mention the Willie Nelson portrait?

 

 

Fairy Tale Friday: King Kojata

Illustration by Henry Justice Ford

"Let go of my beard, you jerk!"

Today’s fairy tale features yet another bad bargain, in which a tricksy villain blackmails an unknown reward from a desperate king. (Remember: If someone offers to save you from peril in exchange for the first thing that greets you when you get home? DON’T DO IT.) It also features 30 beautiful, shape-shifting maidens, amnesia, betrayal, wild flight, and a green-eyed monster.

Taken from Andrew Lang’s Green Fairy Book, this Russian tale is like a mash-up of many of my favorite motifs. See how many other fairy tales you can remember that use at least one of the same tropes.

King Kojata

There was once upon a time a king called Kojata, whose beard was so long that it reached below his knees. Three years had passed since his marriage, and he lived very happily with his wife, but Heaven granted him no heir, which grieved the King greatly. One day he set forth from his capital, in order to make a journey through his kingdom. He travelled for nearly a year through the different parts of his territory, and then, having seen all there was to be seen, he set forth on his homeward way. As the day was very hot and sultry he commanded his servants to pitch tents in the open field, and there await the cool of the evening. Suddenly a frightful thirst seized the King, and as he saw no water near, he mounted his horse, and rode through the neighbourhood looking for a spring. Before long he came to a well filled to the brim with water clear as crystal, and on the bosom of which a golden jug was floating. King Kojata at once tried to seize the vessel, but though he endeavoured to grasp it with his right hand, and then with his left, the wretched thing always eluded his efforts and refused to let itself be caught. First with one hand, and then with two, did the King try to seize it, but like a fish the goblet always slipped through his fingers and bobbed to the ground only to reappear at some other place, and mock the King.

‘Plague on you!’ said King Kojata. ‘I can quench my thirst without you,’ and bending over the well he lapped up the water so greedily that he plunged his face, beard and all, right into the crystal mirror. But when he had satisfied his thirst, and wished to raise himself up, he couldn’t lift his head, because someone held his beard fast in the water. ‘Who’s there? let me go!’ cried King Kojata, but there was no answer; only an awful face looked up from the bottom of the well with two great green eyes, glowing like emeralds, and a wide mouth reaching from ear to ear showing two rows of gleaming white teeth, and the King’s beard was held, not by mortal hands, but by two claws. At last a hoarse voice sounded from the depths. ‘Your trouble is all in vain, King Kojata; I will only let you go on condition that you give me something you know nothing about, and which you will find on your return home.’

The King didn’t pause to ponder long, ‘for what,’ thought he, ‘could be in my palace without my knowing about it–the thing is absurd;’ so he answered quickly:

‘Yes, I promise that you shall have it.’

The voice replied, ‘Very well; but it will go ill with you if you fail to keep your promise.’ Then the claws relaxed their hold, and the face disappeared in the depths. The King drew his chin out of the water, and shook himself like a dog; then he mounted his horse and rode thoughtfully home with his retinue. When they approached the capital, all the people came out to meet them with great joy and acclamation, and when the King reached his palace the Queen met him on the threshold; beside her stood the Prime Minister, holding a little cradle in his hands, in which lay a new-born child as beautiful as the day. Then the whole thing dawned on the King, and groaning deeply he muttered to himself ‘So this is what I did not know about,’ and the tears rolled down his cheeks. All the courtiers standing round were much amazed at the King’s grief, but no one dared to ask him the cause of it. He took the child in his arms and kissed it tenderly; then laying it in its cradle, he determined to control his emotion and began to reign again as before.

The secret of the King remained a secret, though his grave, careworn expression escaped no one’s notice. In the constant dread that his child would be taken from him, poor Kojata knew no rest night or day. However, time went on and nothing happened. Days and months and years passed, and the Prince grew up into a beautiful youth, and at last the King himself forgot all about the incident that had happened so long ago.

 

Find out what happens when the green-eyed monster comes to claim his prize.

 

Get to Know Sveta Dorosheva

She's leading the next wave of illustrators

Have you already heard of Sveta Dorosheva? I must confess that I knew nothing about her until today when I stumbled across this interview with her in the ever-engaging Coilhouse magazine. But now that she’s on my radar, I’ll be watching her like a hawk!

With the mastery of shape, line, and audacity of Aubrey Beardsley, plus a narrative passion that (if properly nurtured) may one day approach Arthur Rackham’s, Dorosheva’s work satisfies my hunger for beautiful, seductive images in a way that few modern illustrators do. (Ray Caesar may be the only other who pushes the same buttons.)

From the Coilhouse interview:

I guess Russian fairy tales are the strongest influence from childhood, but I don’t mean that in the ‘sarafan&kokoshnik’ sense:) I mean they were full of wonderful and scary things, events and creatures, and that influenced my picture of the world for life. I remember that when a kid I took all of it for granted – evil stepmothers that wanted to eat their stepsons’ hearts and brains because he who eats them, would become king and spit golden coins…talking wolves and fire birds, immortal skeletons, frogs and birds throwing their skins and feathers off and turning into beautiful ladies, dead water that puts the pieces of a hero chopped by treacherous brothers together, and live water that then makes this frankenstein body come to life, witches with poison pins that turn people to stones… none of them were ‘terrible’ or ‘wonderful’ – they were just part of a fascinating plot. I guess childish perception is different from adult – it does not divide things into monstrous and beautiful. It just absorbs it all without labels, taking it all for granted.

I remember my three-year-old son seeing a dead bird in the street once in December. He insisted that we go and see its metamorphoses every day. I felt rather ill at ease, but he was INTERESTED, because he did not KNOW it was ‘disgusting’… To him bird-turning-to-a-skeleton or frog-turning-to-a-prince is the same type of natural metamorphosis that makes the world tick and such an interesting place to observe, there’s no good or bad, there’s just infinite variety and wonder. And that’s the thing about fairy tales. They booster imagination through metaphor when one is still open-minded, with no moral or social blinkers on (very useful, very reasonable blinkers, but still limiting).

From her 'Book illustrations' portfolio, via Coilhouse

And, lucky for us, she has a book coming out!

From the author:

It’s a book about people and human world, as seen through the eyes of fairy-tale creatures. They don’t generally believe in people, but some have travelled to our world in various mysterious ways. Such travelers collected evidence and observations about people in this book. It’s an assortment of drawings, letters, stories, diaries and other stuff about people, written and drawn by fairies, elves, gnomes and other fairy personalities. These observations may be perplexing, funny and sometimes absurd, but they all present a surprised look at the things that we, people, take for granted.

From her online portfolio

I strongly encourage you to head over to her portfolio and wallow in page after page of her exquisite work.

Many thanks to Coilhouse for consistently showcasing such top-notch talent.

Fairy tale commercials

Today’s visual art Wednesday post isn’t about a single artist. It’s a collection of fairy tale commercials! I love advertising (I know, I’m a pervert), so it pleases me triple when people make clever ads in my favorite genre. Enjoy as the characters you know and love take a spin through the marketing machine.

Little Red Riding Hood:

Rapunzel:

Cinderella:

Princess and the Pea:

Sleeping Beauty:

And my favorite: Fairy tale in a vending machine:

WTF, Peter Gronquist?

The Last Unicorns

Fairy tales are full of magical animals that turn into princes(ses), give sage advice, cough up enchanted items, and otherwise save the day. Who hasn’t yearned for an encounter with a magical animal, just once?

Sculptor Peter Gronquist gives us that chance, in his own, twisted way. His latest show, The Evolution Will Be Fabulous, reminds me of the villain in my favorite FTF student story, a cruel king who’s killed one of every animal in the forest and mounted their heads on the wall. Only this time the king was hunting magical animals, and those animals were deliciously dark and weird and dangerous.

I mean, right?

You can see these macabre beauties for yourself in Los Angeles, CA, at the Gallery 1988 in Venice through November 4. And you can take one home for as little as $5,000, if that’s your thing.

All I need is a tall ship and star to steer her by!

Thanks to the ever-amazing Super Punch for bringing this bit of wonder to my attention.

Introducing Diana Sudyka, FTF Anthology Illustrator

What a lovely raven!

I’m just a few short weeks away from sending the first collection of illustrated student stories to the printer, so it seems like a good time to introduce the illustrator, Diana Sudyka.

I met Diana at Flatstock in Seattle two or three years ago, and was immediately taken with her work. To be totally honest, I thought she was out of my league, but I got her business card and chatted her up anyway, just for the fun of imagining I could one day hire a fancy-pants illustrator like her. Then I found out she’s married to Jay Ryan, on whom I have a total art crush, and I was so smitten I could hardly even look at her.

Civil War Widow

But the world is a very small place, and in the course of chatting, I discovered that these two super talented humans are friends with a friend of mine from back home, and suddenly we were laughing and sending him rude texts and telling embarrassing stories about him, and generally having a pretty good time. And then it didn’t seem so crazy or far-fetched that I might get Diana Sudyka to illustrate my little collection of stories, after all.

Buy this print!

So there you have it. The rest is history. A year or two later I called her up, sent her my illustration requests, and BANG. Seven gorgeous illustrations that I’m proud to print. You can see the rest of Diana’s portfolio at her site, or you can visit the Decoder Ring to treat yourself to a limited edition print.

I can’t wait to show you the FTF illustrations!