Art

We feel an affinity with a certain thinker because we agree with him; or because he shows us what we were already thinking; or because he shows us in a more articulate form what we were already thinking; or because he shows us what we were on the point of thinking; or what we would sooner or later have thought; or what we would have thought much later if we hadn’t read it now; or what we would have been likely to think but never would have thought if we hadn’t read it now; or what we would have liked to think but never would have thought if we hadn’t read it now.

Lydia Davis, Almost No Memory

Blake and Steadman

quentin blake

Illustration by Quentin Blake

I love how gloriously loose and messy the illustrations of Quentin Blake and Ralph Steadman are. And in the day of admittedly well-crafted but too meticulous (for my taste) Photoshop and Illustrator designs  literally flooding the internet – I just can’t help but feel the Sanskrit emotion of ananda when looking at these ink-strewn images.

It may be due to reading so many Sid Fleischman books (illustrated by Blake) as a kid that imprinted this freewheeling style in my psyche.

steadman

Illustration by Ralph Steadman

And, true to my liberal arts compare-and-contrast training, that quote from Ira Glass that’s been going around lately comes to mind, the one about having taste but the work not coming out how your mind’s eye saw it. The disappointment and desire to quit. A quick google of that quote  reveals it’s not about one’s art looking/sounding perfect, but “hav[ing] this special thing that we want it to have.”

Perhaps therein lies the heart of the matter (hoo, there’s a new writer cliché at your service) – the Blake/Steadman illustrations have that special thing, that thing that’s missing when I see the meticulously crafted but oddly anonymous art and design online.

Here are two examples for your own ananda.

The sensation of flight

matisse cut-out Reviewing an upcoming show of Henri Matisse’s paper cut-out artwork the critic, describing the pieces, wrote ‘seaweeds wave and swallows soar’ – sending me off on an image search of the artist’s waving seaweeds. I hadn’t until this point been much interested in Matisse’s work – but have long been interested in the various shapes that seaweeds take. A quick search did not disappoint.

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