If I’m being honest, my soul is forever dying slowly due to the fact that I am not living in Portland where so many friends and talented people and wonderful things reside… but my not being local to the area is causing me extreme suffering today, as there is something very special happening that I cannot attend!
The Creeping Museum, whom I’ve written of at Unquiet Things previously and whose creative vision I respect tremendously, is the labor of love conceived between two friends in North Portland, whose mission is to help artists and independent creators give back to their communities by turning their strange and unusual work into tiny pieces of affordable art, for which to support wonderfully worthy causes. And right now they are gearing up to introduce a new project that I think will resonate on some very heart-deep levels with so many of us.
Tonight, Thursday, February 15th at 7PM, at their Little Free Library in North Portland, The Creeping Museum will present an opening celebration for The Haunted Menagerie: A Celebration of Spirit Familiars and Ghostly Pets which will include a miniature group show featuring original artwork as well as an artist bookplate(!!)“exhibition”–and oh, how I wish I could be be present to see all of it! Please go in my stead and take lots of photos and beautiful selfies with the enchanting art and the brilliant minds who pulled it all together, ok?
The bookplate collection will benefit the Portland Audubon Society and includes art by the following artists: Layla Sullivan, Amy Earles, Benjamin Dewey, Marybel Martin, Becky Munich, Pantovola, Christa Dippel, Canvas Menagerie, Hidden Velvet, Alex Reisfar.
The group show in the miniature gallery will include original art by the following artists, and the proceeds from the sale of each piece will go to the nonprofit of the artist’s choice.
– Dena Seiferling
– Darla Jackson
– Stephanie Buscema
– Jenny Fontana
– Diane Irvine Armitage
– Joe Vollan
– Gretchen Lewis
Next week-ish, or sometime thereabouts as I understand it, The Creeping Museum will have a shop update with all sorts of magical items and spells and wonderment related to The Haunted Menagerie concept. I will be writing about it at length over at Haute Macabre, and will be certain to share all of the wonderful details and secrets at that time!
In the meantime, I have been granted a tiny sneak peek of some of the beautiful bookplates and have permission to share them with you…
This article was originally published on Haute Macabre on January 4, 2018.
Goats that gracefully gambol across a waistline, miniature moths fluttering about one’s throat, delicate alpine flora blooming across an expanse of vintage lace–these are just a few of the eerie, elegant motifs one might find adorning both the artwork and clothing stitched by the patient, gentle hand of textile artist Elsa Olsson, aka Fevernest.
After studying textiles for a number of years and learning a multitude of varying embroidery and weaving techniques, it was cross stitch that Elsa returned to, again and again. “The challenge,” she confides, “lies not in the technique itself, but more in the patience that it requires.” She enjoys the slowness and precision of the craft, the building of patterns in tiny pixels– a timeless method of building shapes and figures. In a world where so many things are reliant upon speed and efficiency, Elsa emphasizes, it is both grounding and meditative for her to work as slow as possible, instead.
Noting cinematic influences, Elsa is inspired by silent films for their creative play with silhouettes and shapes, as well as, old horror movies, costume dramas and psychological thrillers for their somber moodiness. “When I work with larger pieces that are not clothing” she fancifully divulges, “I often find inspiration in older/antique objects; my mind wanders off to what their story is, who the previous owner/owners were, and what tale the object would tell if it could speak.”
I am especially captivated by the beautiful vintage dresses onto which Elsa’s exquisite embellishments bestow new life–each garment seems to rustle and whisper with myriad haunted secrets and memories. A self-described “hard-core perfectionist”, she tells me that a great deal of time goes into searching for objects and garments to use for her work, and that she prefers to use second-hand and vintage pieces for environmental and humane reasons. Working on linen, cotton, and viscose, she favors shapes and pieces that are timeless and quite simple to begin with, when planning out how to enrich these charming gowns with her cunning designs. And further, she declares…
I want the people who wear these pieces to feel beautiful, strong, and empowered in them!
Elsa’s Instagram account is awash with a gorgeously restrained sense of elegance and tender grace: shadowy and dusky-hued photos of her artful stitchery, her curiously cozy home, and her splendid furry companions. These soft, quiet moments and spaces may have been your gateway to her world of uncommon needlecraft creations, as it was mine.
“I spend quite a lot of time and energy into how I present and shoot my garments, I want everything from the packaging to the photos to have the same vibe, so I am always very happy when people appreciate that! Instagram is a wonderful platform for me, and I think about 95% of my customers find their way to my shop via that forum.”
When asked if she has any favorite Instagram accounts she might like to share, Elsa enthusiastically replied:
“I have also made so many friends and collaborations that have started off there. There are so many favorite accounts and people that I love following; among textile artists there are two who I really adore and admire–memorialstitches and adipocere (featured previously on Haute Hacabre). I also love lillistorm for her beautiful nature and animal photos. Two other artists that I enjoy following are goodyhoran (also featured previously) and kathleen_lolley.
In 2018, Elsa has some very exciting projects coming up, and should no doubt be of great interest to those amongst you who wield a needle, yourselves! “I have been working on a book with cross stitch patterns that I hope will be finished and released before the year is over,” Elsa discloses. “It’s sort of like an old pattern book but with an occult/folkloric theme.” Now I am definitely keen to learn cross stitch, myself!
She is also looking into expanding her etsy shop with some textile prints on home interior goods, which will be a way to make some more affordable pieces as a compliment to the hand-stitched work that she offers there. Elsa hopes to have time to work on larger installation-type art, as well. She wishfully notes that it would be great to do an exhibit in the states; so far she has only shown her work in Sweden, where she resides but, she continues, “most of the people who buy from me are from USA, so it would be great to be able to bring my work there in the future… but we will see!” Elsa concludes, thoughtfully, “as an artist it is always a struggle between time and money, but I am really grateful to be where I am today and to be able to do what I do.”
In late summer of 2016 I was invited on board as a staff writer for Haute Macabre, a website and dark lifestyle/culture resource whose aesthetic I had long admired and whose blog posts I had been fervently following for many years. As you can imagine, this was right up the alley of one who describes her style as “goth-adjacent” and “must love cats and darkness”–and so of course I jumped at the chance to provide content for them relating to art, and perfume, music, literature, witchy wonders, and marvelous magics.
Below are some of my favorite interviews in 2017 with Artists, Creatives, and Visionaries who I was thrilled and honored to have spoken with and whose works and words I was entrusted to share with you. Thank you, a million times, to all of the creators who have given time to me this past year for these illuminating interviews, and I sincerely hope that 2018 will bring even more of these singular opportunities!
The Shadow Is Me: An Interview With Jamie Mooers Of Burial Ground My exchange with one half of the creative vision that is Burial Ground, wherein we delve into matters of friendship and familiar comforts, dreams and inspirations, and the pleasures of losing oneself in the beauty of a November day.
The Somber Poetry Of Dreams. The Collage Art Of Hidden Velvet deals in bittersweet contrasts of lightness and glooms, blooming, fluttering life and the stillness of death, and furtive dread juxtaposed against a serene sense of tranquility.
Unfolding A Daydream: The Art Of Amy Earles The progression following an artist’s depiction of young girls facing the lurking menaces of childhood and transforming into empowered young women with agency, autonomy, and an awareness that they are in control of their own fates.
A Woman With Power: Pam Grossman A spirited discussion with this independent curator, writer, and lifelong student of magical practices for her thoughts on witchcraft and the occult as it relates to art, activism, and anger, and what it means to be a woman with power.
Ashley Rose Couture’s “My Dearest Dust” & Other Conjurations. I had been dreaming about getting a chance to chat with this fanciful visionary and innovator about her designs and inspirations, and it finally happened! AND early this item, I traveled to Boston to see My Dearest Dust in person!
Seeing Stars With Mystic Medusa; wherein this astrological purveyor of sagacious observations, fantastic insight, and timely wisdom kindly indulges my nosy questions.
Illuminating The Many Moons Workbook with Sarah Faith Gottesdiener. In which I speak with the creator of The Many Moons Workbook, a notebook and manual which imagines a world where witches, women, femmes, & weirdos make their dreams come true, and help others and the greater collective in service of their higher self and of spirit.
Portals Of Power: KillDie’s Crystal Marys. What kind of person, you might wonder, would shatter the holy virgin’s face and stuff it full of quartz? Well, that would Kyle Montgomery of KillDie.
Delicate and Unflinching: The Art of Nicomi Nix Turner. An artist who explores Human and flora, fungi and bone, beetle and animal are examined in delicate, unflinching detail, and are at turns both lush and fiercely throbbing with life, and ripe and rank with death and decay.
Artist, Chemist, Goofball: Catching Up With Tyler Thrasher. Tyler Thrasher is a hoot, and, while I don’t like to pick favorites, our Q&A exchange was high on my list of favorites this year! It was a pleasure to discuss with him topics ranging from creation in dark times, and the importance of curiosity, experimentation, and living your own goddamn story.
Caitlin McCarthy‘s art is up there among some of my very favorites to gaze upon and lose myself in. Though I interviewed her in 2016, in the past year I have sense a slight shift in her work; I took the opportunity in these last few days of 2017 to catch up with her and showcase some of her newer pieces, over at Haute Macabre.
At Haute Macabre today I write of an obsession that has held me in its thrall for many years and which has always brought me strange solace: the eerie photography of Sir Simon Marsden.
When perusing Alice Rogers’ portfolio, or perhaps scrolling through her Instagram account, you get the sense that she wants to frighten you, just a bit. But this isn’t some sort of jump scare, shock-value fright – no, there is a sense of intent here.
Rogers, through her explorations of dark themes on canvas and photography and in sculpture, invites – nay, demands – the viewer to do the same as well. It’s not the stark horrors of fearsome wolves, menacing swords, or lean, beckoning claws of hungry spirits that are the threat here.
As you peer more closely closer at Rogers’ work – despite yourself – you also begin looking inward. Your own shadows, secrets, devils, and darkness are brought to light. Rogers’ works reflects both the damage we do to ourselves and the scars of those old hurts inflicted by others, and at its heart, it is about the vulnerable magic in making something beautiful from these wounds – and the balance achieved in doing so.
I recently caught up with Alice Rogers about her works, these painful yet ultimately cathartic worlds she creates, and the magic and manifestation, power and purification that is part of the process.
S. Elizabeth: Tell us a little about your artistic background – What were your first inclinations that you had a strong creative instinct? Can you pinpoint the moment you decided you wanted to become an artist?
Alice Rogers: I loved drawing from the time I was a small child. My family and teachers encouraged me to keep at it, so I painted murals and designed the school t-shirts and all that sort of stuff. I actually went through a period where I rebelled and said, “Maybe I don’t want to be an artist!” and decided I was going to study forensic science instead, but I ended up double-majoring in fine art and English in college, anyway. I was never able to choose between those two things – art and writing – and I still try to organize my life so that I don’t have to.
You are a writer, photographer, illustrator, and sculptor – within so much of your work you show us liminal worlds and stories within these worlds, and it’s all just brimming with what seems to be intensely personal symbolism. In what medium are you happiest working, when creating these worlds?
I think of all various mediums and forms of expression as tools. Some tools are more appropriate for certain projects or ideas than others. I find that drawing is the most immediate way for me to express something, so even though I’m also a writer, I tend to draw instead of journaling. Occasionally a phrase or sort of poem will come to me before I start a drawing and I work around that. I can’t always communicate everything I want to get across in a drawing, and that’s where the three-dimensional stuff comes in.
I wouldn’t call myself a photographer. I’m certainly not skilled, technically, in that area, but I’m having fun exploring the idea of creating little worlds in three-dimensional space and capturing them in still images or short films. Sometimes I’m just drawn to one medium more than another; for three years I didn’t create anything visual at all and only wrote, and then it sort of flipped. Having all of those tools available keeps me creatively stimulated so I if I get burned out doing one thing, I move on to the next for a while.
From photos of your studio, it is difficult to tell where the altars end and the workspace begins. This idea/philosophy of “art as magic” – can you speak to that? And along those lines, in your Instagram, I came across the term “Seiðr,” which I found to be an old Norse form of sorcery sometimes associated with the goddess Freyja. Do you consider what you do, the art that you create, a form of Seiðr?
Last December, I was thinking a lot about manifestation. I sort of ride the line between intellectual curiosity and belief when it comes to magic and the occult, and I interpret most of it as a system for refining and manifesting intent. You have to determine what you want and why, then make all sorts of small changes in your life that add up to make it real. Magic isn’t just about manipulating energy; it’s finding power in knowing yourself in a really intimate way. At the time, I was preoccupied with negative patterns that were repeating themselves in my relationships and I drew out what I wanted to manifest, which was a deep connection with a person possessing certain qualities. That drawing turned into several more, and sort of ushered in a new phase of creative expression for me.
Symbols are just such potent visual shorthand, and joining them together can give them even more power. They can say so much with just a few strokes of a pen or brush. The symbols I prefer to use mostly originate from Western occult traditions and Germanic paganism, and in this way I draw upon my own ancestral heritage and the knowledge and power of so many people who have come before me. So even though I’m incorporating these symbols and ideas into my art in a way that’s intensely personal for me, others can look at what I create with it and find something that resonates for them in a totally different way, or so I’ve been told.
In the end, it’s not about what other people find nice to look at. It’s not even about the final product. It’s the meditative, half-conscious, magical act of translating emotions and abstract concepts into visual form, which is therapeutic for me. It’s a deep analysis of self, relationships with others, and how I interact with the world that’s really for no one’s benefit but my own, but everyone is on their own particular version of the same journey.
You write of your fascination with the line between the scientific and the supernatural, and that you “reside in the balance between reason and belief.” I find myself marveling at the stark contrasts in your work, the extreme juxtaposition of dark and light, of shadow and exposure… and yet it all speaks to a sort of balance, if I am not mistaken. Tell us about the value and meaning of balance in your work.
When I really started paying attention to the themes that were popping up in my life over and over again, the idea of balance really stood out. I’m not sure why exactly, just that it seems like the universe is constantly reminding me that it’s part of my life’s work, along with a search for truths that a lot of people might find scary or uncomfortable (which is what draws me to the occult). There’s no light without darkness, and without pain, we could never fully appreciate beauty. That might sound clichéd, but it’s true. I don’t necessarily see things in black and white – there’s an awful lot of gray in the world – but for me, the starkness of monochrome is sort of a way of creating order out of chaos, even in my wardrobe or my personal space. It fosters a sense of harmony and continuity.
The motifs in your art and photography vary wildly from sacred geometry to Twin Peaks to yokai – what would you say is the underlying theme in these inspirations? What can you tell us about your current obsessions and fascinations, and how they may be finding their way into something you are working on right now?
Almost all of my creative inspiration comes to me in half-sleep. I have a sleep disorder that keeps me in the hypnagogic and hypnapompic sleep stages much longer than most people (the “falling asleep” and “waking up” phases where you’re sort of dreaming, but still partially conscious). With that comes sleepwalking and hallucinations, but mostly a trance-like state that enables you to access the deep reaches of your subconscious, or other spiritual planes. So almost every night, I wake up with an idea or three. I write them down if I’m conscious enough. Sometimes I remember them in the morning, and sometimes they slip away.
Like last week, when I woke up with the words “ars moriendi” in my head – I couldn’t recall ever actually hearing that phrase, and I looked it up, and it roughly translates to “the art of dying.” Since I tend to work intuitively, sometimes my symbolism is very purposeful and sometimes it feels like a mystery even to me.
But I do have a preoccupation with atmosphere and mood, especially when it feels really primal, which is why I’m drawn to David Lynch, and “Butoh” Japanese performance art, and music by artists like Pharmakon. I think it’s very powerful when art is disturbing, but not in a cheap way, not in a way that relies on gore or shock value. It’s like strumming an instrument and finding a note that vibrates through your entire being. For me it all goes back to the junction of psychology and mysticism. Is it all brain chemistry; are we nothing more than sentient sacks of meat? Is it a means of accessing universal energies that we can’t fully process in the physical world? That’s the essential mystery and that’s what fascinates me.
Earlier this year you had a piece in Sticks & Stones’ Rock ‘n’ Roll Camp for Girls – can you tell us a bit about the venue and the pieces that you chose (or created) for it? Is your work showing anywhere right now?
I actually haven’t shown my work very much at all. For a long time, I worked in oils, and then everything I created over a period of fifteen years or so was destroyed by mold after a flooding incident. Ultimately, I see that as a positive development because it forced me to detach myself from each piece as a finished product, so the emphasis is on the act of creating.
The Sticks & Stones’ show, which was a benefit for a local nonprofit called Rock ‘n’ Roll Camp for Girls, was the first time I put up any of my black and white drawings. I’d love to show that work again somewhere, or the drawings I’ve produced since then, but I’m also shifting focus a little bit to larger sculpture, photography, and film.
I’m also planning a collaborative show with my friend, Angela Thornton, who’s a knitwear designer and art director. We’re still in the early stages, but ultimately it will be an experiment in combining visual art and design with performance, so we’re excited about that.
Another powerful project you are involved in is Ask Me About My Abortion, “a safe space for people to share their stories, and read about the experiences of others, with zero judgment, pressure, or bullshit.” Can I ask how the creation of this safe space came to be and why it is important to you?
Ask Me About My Abortion came about because my best friend, Laura Slack, wanted to help anyone searching for information about abortion online find actual first-hand experiences, instead of religious propaganda. So many people we know have had abortions – straight, queer, religious people, atheists, people with female reproductive systems who don’t identify as female. It’s far more common than a lot of people realize, and the culture war in our society over this issue relies on a sense of shame and guilt to silence the voices of anyone who believes we should have agency over our own bodies and when or whether we become parents. It’s a passion project for her, and as a feminist it’s an important issue to me, too.
The controversy over attempts to defund Planned Parenthood has ignited similar projects recently, like #ShoutYourAbortion, which we think is great. We’re hoping that we can ultimately provide a searchable database full of a broad range of experiences from all sorts of people, whether they feel great about it or had difficulty. We’re not censoring any of the stories; we’re just not accepting any anti-choice perspectives. We want to reflect reality. So please, everyone, send us your stories!
Today at Haute Macabre I write about enigmatic artist, Colette Saint Yves, whose dreamy, disquieting works have captivated me since those early, heady days of Tumblr.
(You might laugh, but Tumblr was sort of a revelation for me, and it’s brought some of my most beloved friends into my life, as well!)
Krampus–the anthropomorphic goat-man-ghoul hybrid sent to terrorize delinquent children into holiday submission; that baddie from old Alpine folklore turned pop culture icon for the dark and disillusioned–that guy is a Yuletide favorite and truly a beast for the ages.
Hundreds of years ago, I have no doubt that kids were just as wretchedly bratty as they are today and required the threat of Krampus’s demonic birch rod beatings, or being stuffed in a wicker basket and dragged off to hell–and I suspect adults and parents thought it was hilarious then, too.
I daresay one hundred years from now our needs for such menacing admonitions and the humorous good times derived thereof will not have changed.
Though the necessity for Krampus’s particular brand of wintertime tough-lovin’ remains unchanged, his classic horned, cloven-hooved, Gene Simmons-tongued appearance may have altered over the years. A quick Google search returns countless antique, vintage, and old-timey imagery. But, as those clickbait-y, non-articles about our favorite 1980s child-star-turned-meth-addicts tease us–“what does he look like now?”
Below is a diverse collection of contemporary Krampus portraiture from today’s artists with a keen eye aimed toward the dark and twisty, with details both horrific and hysterical. Though these recent interpretations range in tone from colorful and surreal to shadowy and mystical, it’s clear that Krampus, that monstrous creature of Germanic lore, remains a classic muse.
Chris Buzelli‘s fantastical landscapes are populated by all manner of mythological creatures; it only stands to reason that Krampus would make an appearance in these magical realms. Pictured here, we have the kidnapped and tortured children doing Krampus’ work for him in traveling to his fiery lair.
Pick up the pace kids, Krampus is getting hungry!
The nocturnal woodlands of Andy Kehoe‘s paintings provides a suitably creepy background for a blackened and solitary Krampus, leering at us through the mists. If Krampus swats a naughty child in the forest and no one is around to hear, does Krampus care?
Bizhan Khodabandeh‘s slick, stylized Krampus is a retinal burning treat and calls to mind an otherworldly, towering bit of folk-horror. Krampus from Dimension X, where it will not surprise you to learn that children also behave badly there.
Chet Zar‘s unsettling imagery, reminiscent of decayed and diseased flesh, and which explores the darker recesses of the human consciousness, is the stuff of fevered nightmares. That jolly red hat with the jingle bell at the tip somehow makes this the most horrific Krampus of all.
Luke Ramsey’s complex, freehand line work Krampus calls to mind an infernally unsolvable maze. As your eyes follow these finely detailed, demonic doodles upward, you meet Krampus’ own gaze. You’re not sure but you think he looks bored; there’s a sense of ennui, of malaise here. But the crying children in his backpack tell another story, so you quickly drop your eyes and mind your own damn business.
As with most of his work, Tom Bagshaw‘s Krampus is haunting and classically stunning. It’s also scary as hell. NOPE.
Nicoletta Ceccoli‘s lush, fairytale art is the stuff of dreams. As in–this could, quite literally be something I’ve dreamed about: “So there was Krampus, right? But he was, like, wearing a …coral onesie? And sitting in a tiny chair? It was maybe in my grandmother’s house because I recognize that weird blue wallpaper?” Even the child here looks as though she may realize she is in a dream; there is a sense of struggle, but the urgency has passed and she is just waiting to inevitably wake up.
Josh Agle–or SHAG–is well known for his quirky, retro, wildly colored art. With its mod sensibilities and strange sense of hip cocktail party time hedonism, the dark Yule-lord Krampus seems a peculiar subject for this artist to tackle–which for me, makes it one of my favorites featured here. I’d like this to be a peppy postcard that Krampus sends to concerned parents: “wish you were here”–or perhaps a calling card–“see you next year!
I’ll confess a fondness for Ryan Heshka‘s surreal, pulp-inspired artwork full of tough broads in high heels, outlandish landscapes, and giant sci-fi monsters. In “Consenual Krampus,” we get a taste of some adult-themed Krampus business–and am I alone in wanting to see more of this sort of thing? Some Krampusrotica, if you will? No? Ok, then.
UPDATE 12.4.21: I was not aware of this wicked spectacle-infused heavy metal frontman stunner of a Yule lord at the time that I put this piece together, but now that I know of its existence, how could I not include the dark drama of BROM’s Krampus???
Oh! And of course, you’d love to know how to wear some Krampus-centric artwork? I anticipated that you would and put together a casual and not at all over-the-top ensemble for you. Unfortunately, as with many of the ensembles that I put together at this time, that site closed down and took all of my details with it. So I hope you will use this as a springboard for inspiration! And not, you know, as a reason to yell at me!
(This article was originally posted at Dirge; the site is no longer active.)
Interested in learning more about the artist and her dark, haunted inspirations? I had the privilege of interviewing Sara last year–peek here for some spooky insights!
(originally published on the Coilhouse blog, September 22, 2010)
A young girl in a scarlet hoodied romper stares gravely up into the heavily furred, ferociously fanged face of a black wolf. A lesser creature might be shamed by the child’s frank gaze – her features set earnestly, courageously, eyes alight with curiosity, and perhaps, even compassion.
Is the wolf to be deterred by this sweet faced thing, obviously unafraid? Will it stray from it’s monstrously predictable fairytale course? No, it is not. Will not. Cannot — after all, that is what it wolves do, isn’t it?
And before you can blink it has swallowed the girl whole.
But, wait…
See our little heroine, pale and grim. Watch her crawling through the gaping, bloodied hole she has snipped with her flashing silver scissors and her small, clever hands right through the thing’s engorged belly, its tough hide. See her gaze in the last panel; her no longer-quite-innocent, yet still entirely cherubic countenance is now impatient, determined, pissed off: “Wolf, I will fuck your shit up”, it declares.
Beatriz Martin Vidal’s modern interpretation of the oft-told tale of The Little Red Riding Hood –with it’s evocative art and unexpected outcome– is a marvelous example of the slightly magical, mythical places she creates for the young people who populate them. Never cutesy or twee, her subjects instead reveal the beauty and bravery and curiosity of children, and their effortless interaction with the world.
Originally from Valladolid, “a medium size town in the middle-north of Spain” Ms. Martin Vidal chose a career after high school “which didn’t fit her at all” – Law – and though she stuck with it for some time, she eventually continued on to the University of Salamanca to study art, which is what she maintains that she had wanted to do from the beginning. Of her time at the University and influences found therein and elsewhere, she says:
“I think the five years in University gave me a very valuable knowledge about art history, among other things. A lot of my influences come from 19th century painting, I think. I keep going back to old masters when I’m trying to find my own path, to Viennese secession, Renaissance drawings, Golden Age illustrators. It’s not I’m not interested in contemporary art of illustration as spectator, but, when it comes to making images, that’s the path I feel attracted to. Anyway, inspiration comes from everywhere. Sometimes things so unrelated to my work that I feel I’m the only one who can see the relationship.”
For an artist, the pairing of children and fairytale themes would seem to go hand in hand. When asked what it is that draws her to these subjects, she remarked:
“…Of course, there’s a practical reason for it, as picture books, and most of the illustrated books belong to the children/young readers field. But, the truth is that I find children a very interesting subject for my work. Children live halfway between reality and dreams which inspires me a lot. They’re funny. If you observe children in a park, they’re doing a lot of things more than the adults. They’re living little stories, running, jumping, talking to themselves. I find their relationship with myths and tales is very natural, very essential… I think almost all my work talks about a flexible reality. A place where you can mold the world …which doesn’t mean it’s going to be a wonderful world, as humans have fears as well as bravery and sadness as well as happiness. ”
Ms. Martin Vidal is currently preparing a picture book, a story by Gustavo Martin Garzo, about children and wolves for El Jinete Azul. As for what’s next:
“…. I’m going to work in another picture book of my own about fairy tales. I love to do my own books, but it’s hard to find the time for it. For the beginning of next year I’ll do a story about a girl and a pixie for Oxford University Press, and a novel for El Jinete Azul. I think my Little Red Riding Hood is going to be published in Australia, so in some months there’ll be an English edition. Lately I’m trying to focus on my own picture books. That’s the thing that makes happy the most and I think that it deserves the risk [of making them first with no pressure or external limits and then trying to find the right publisher for them.]”
See below for for more wonderful examples of Beatriz Martin Vidal’s work, including selections from her Carmilla, Tarot, and Russian Tales series. Visit Beatriz for updates and to view her complete portfolio.
If I’m being honest, my soul is forever dying slowly due to the fact that I am not living in Portland where so many friends and talented people and wonderful things reside… but my not being local to the area is causing me extreme suffering today, as there is something very special happening that I cannot attend!
