Tuesday, 12 July 2011
Oubli-art for Issue 6
(Previewed here The Skeleton Lord from Monster Club and a single frame from Mouse Watch both to be found in Oubliette Issue 6-out soon).
Infected with plague, and bellowing "unclean" periodically, I've had my head down getting the art together for our next issue.
With each magazine, I have attempted something a little different. I've mucked around with greyscale, attempted a higher degree of realism, experimented with block colouring, looked at all your blogs and the sorts of pictures you admire and attempted to incorporate elements of modelling and shading as used by the artists show-cased.
My style has been to reel off whatever is my head without too much forethought. Images appear suddenly and very vividly, and I get them on to paper as quickly as I can, and clean them up in photoshop. This sort of technique, produces pictures with immediacy and drive, but they don't necessarily tickle the connoisseur palette. But does a magazine require masterpieces on every page (my head is shouting, "Yes Marg-sort yourself out"). I recall a critic talking about Orson Welles in a stage production of Moby Dick saying for the first ten minutes he was the most magnificent thing he'd ever seen in terms of voice and presence, but after that, even that magnificence managed to be come mundane, because it was all the same-there was nothing which surprised, because it was all masterly.
Now such a comment is not meant to inspire people to be mediocre with occasional flashes of brilliance. Laurence Olivier struggled with recreating masterpieces: he exited the stage after an electrifying performance, to be greeted with "You were brilliant!", to which he replied "Yes! But I don't know why!"
These anecdotes and many others chase each other around my head whenever I draw or write, and whilst I'm not into suffering, pain and angst(okay, I occasionally indulge but I do know it's a complete waste of time), I do believe that life can be directed towards a process of continual self-improvement. I'd like to improve my drawing, and whilst I fight the good fight, I can enjoy spectacular failures and be modestly and most Britishly pleased by any accomplishments. If what I do is interesting and varied that's a bonus. Chief in my head is blanket accessibility. I'm into being inclusive-anyone should be able to enjoy this stuff-ah which leads to some of my naughty stuff. Yes, I did draw pole-dancing mice, and implied various unsavory happenings, but when I do things like that, I try and keep it all in the grand tradition of British Panto. Hopefully it's multi-layered enough that it can mean separate things to different ages and levels of experience. Maybe I won't be showing the raven eating the eyeball of the decomposing head on a spike to my five year old, but there's always next year?