Alice Illustrations other than Tenniel – Hugo Strikes Back! I’m not quite clear who Hugo is and why he is striking back but this wiki is incredible — links to more Alice illustrators than I knew existed (many NOT NOT for children — or me, for that matter). Here are just a few of my new and old favorites (of those less familiar to most):
(I saw Lewis Carroll Society Mark Richard’s copy years ago and have dreamed of owning my own ever since.)
Gorohovsky Edward Semyonovich
(Has a Peter Sis feel to it, doesn’t it?)
(Another I already knew and desperately want.)
(The tree makes me think of Ferdinand’s)
Melanie Coles, a young artist in Vancouver, has come up with a very cool project. Here’s her introduction to it:
For my graduating project at the Emily Carr Institute of Art Design and Media, I am creating a Google Earth Where’s Waldo inspired game. Players will be given the hint that Waldo is hiding somewhere in Vancouver and he can only be seen via Google Earth. In order to do this, a giant Waldo painting is being constructed and placed on a rooftop!
She’s blogging about it here.
Thanks to areallydifferentplace for the tip.
Years ago I saw this remarkable painting as part of an extraordinary exhibit of Victorian fairy paintings. Here is the Tate’s (where it is on permanent display) description of it:
Richard Dadd painted this work in the Bethlem Hospital where he was sent after murdering his father and being declared insane. The scene was drawn from his imagination. It shows the ‘fairy-feller’ poised to split a large chestnut which will be used to construct Queen Mab’s new fairy carriage. The style, subject and shifting scale of the painting all contribute to a sense of the fantastic that fits the critic Herbert Read’s idea of an imaginative tradition running through to Surrealism in the early twentieth century.
Now Neil Gaiman has posted “Me and my Dadd and Mark Chadbourn,” an introduction to a work of fiction. Here’s how it begins:
Reason tells me that I would have first encountered the painting itself, the enigmatically titled Fairy Feller’s Master Stroke, reproduced, pretty much full-sized, in the fold-out cover of a QUEEN album, at the age of fourteen or thereabouts, and it made no impression upon me at all. That’s one of the odd things about it. You have to see it in the flesh, paint on canvas, the real thing, which hangs, mostly, when it isn’t travelling, in the Pre-Raphaelite room of the Tate Gallery, out of place among the grand gold-framed Pre-Raphaelite beauties, all of them so much more huge and artful than the humble fairy court walking through the daisies, for it to become real.
If you ever get a chance to see the painting you will understand why it and its history are so beguiling.