I was in Seattle a few weeks ago. You remember the library, right?
I went to Pike Place Market, because of course, but also because flying fish and dudes in galoshes are a spectacle worth checking out. And I also wanted to get up close and personal with some bluefin tuna eyeballs.
There’s a real reason for that, trust me. But they didn’t have any tuna, so this happened:
There’s not a real point to that story except that I adore that tweet (and those two Favoriters) and it’s what I did just before I wandered into Lamplight Books.
It’s like I stole something. Fifteen dollars? Sixty quarters? It still has that magical, musty smell of hidden secrets. And it was mine in a fraction of a split second. That fast.
Because…behold:
I’m in love. From the texture of a porcupine, to the form of mountains and weeds, to the repetition inside a squash, design is everywhere.
Design is a Dandelion ends like this, with truth and a charge:
Design is everywhere. It is for everyone. All you have to do is to learn to see it. Open your eyes and take a big, long look.
I’ve been looking forward to this book for a long time, mostly because that cover is SPECTAZZLING. But also cause I follow Greg Pizzoli on Twitter, where he is clever and quippy and shares things like THE ENDPAPERS. And then this is what the publisher teased us with, so I was pretty much in love with this book right away:
With perfect comic pacing, Greg Pizzoli introduces us to one funny crocodile who has one big fear: swallowing a watermelon seed. What will he do when his greatest fear is realized? Will vines sprout out his ears? Will his skin turn pink? This crocodile has a wild imagination that kids will love.
Yeah. SO INTO THAT. The Watermelon Seed hits stores TOMORROW, May 14th, so you might want to go ahead and get in line. After you meet Greg, of course.
So I’ve also been looking forward to this post for almost as long. I’m thrilled to have Greg Pizzoli in for a visit. Welcome, Greg!
I call him “Kroc”. Sometimes my editor calls him “K-Roc” or “The Krocster”. Boy, does he hate that.My background is in printmaking, and I built a silkscreen shop in my studio, which is how I generate a lot of my work. I think my preference towards limited and deliberate colors comes from the printmaking. It could be laziness, but I’m going to say printmaking.
Even the first sketches of this book were in just a few colors. It just made sense to make the whole book feel like a watermelon. Plus, he’s a crocodile, so the green is already there.
Everyone at Disney*Hyperion was very supportive of my trying out different inks and paper choices to get the feel just right. We did CMYK v. Spot color tests and there was just no comparison. I think it would be tough to get that pink, and that green with CMYK. At least for me. We tried a few different paper stocks, too. I’m super picky.
Basically you make a drawing in black and use that to make a stencil on a screen. Doesn’t matter how you make that drawing – by hand on tracing paper, with construction paper, in Photoshop – whatever you can use to get a drawing in black. Your screen, which is a frame of aluminum with a fine mesh stretched across it, is covered in photographic emulsion, and you expose the screen to light. Wherever the light hits the emulsion, it hardens and becomes water resistant.
BUT if you put your black drawing between the screen and the light source, the emulsion that is blocked by your drawing (which remember, is black, thus very light blocking-y), that emulsion stays soft. And you can wash it out with water. So everything that wasn’t blocked by your drawing is water resistant, and your drawing washes out of the screen, making a water resistant stencil in the shape of your drawing. You make one of those for each layer, or usually, color. WATERMELON was offset printed obviously, but I did a lot of screenprinting textures, etc to make it feel very printy. The spot colors definitely help there, too.
I’ve been teaching screenprinting for about 4 years at The University of the Arts in Philly. It’s where I met Brian Biggs. He took a continuing ed class I was teaching in 2009. He introduced me to my agent. I dedicated a book to him, but it hasn’t come out yet. I still owe him big time. I still teach! I love it.
Humor usually keeps me interested in whatever I’m doing.
I like to work with texture for sure, too. And shapes. Shapes, yeah, shapes are good. I know this is great interview material here. Breaking news, Greg Pizzoli “like shapes”. Today on Buzzfeed, 23 shapes Greg Pizzoli likes most.
Anyway . . . I was really into shapes and texture with THE WATERMELON SEED, and the next book I’m doing with Hyperion (NUMBER ONE SAM, Summer 2014) comes from a similar place. We’re doing spot colors for that one, too. But four this time, which opens up a lot of possibilities in terms of overlapping layers and colors.
Like most people, I like lots of stuff. I never get tired of looking at Eduardo Munoz Bachs posters. He obviously had a lot of fun making his work. A lot of people you’d suspect probably, Sendak, Ed Emberly, Tove Jansson, Charles Schultz, etc.
I’m really lucky to have so many talented buddies in the Philly area, too. I host occasional drink ‘n’ draws at my studio and Zach Ohora, Matt Phelan, Bob Shea, Tim Gough, Amy Ignatow, Brian Biggs, Lee Harper, Gene Baretta, Eric Wight, and several others have come by. It’s a good time. Sometimes we do this thing where we each draw for five minutes and then pass the paper to the right and draw on top of that drawing for five minutes, until we get all the way around the circle or run out of beer. You can imagine just how bad these things look. Joe Strummer, Iggy Pop, David Bowie. They’re my heroes.
No way! I love coffee. I think I quit for a while last year and it just floated around my online profile for a bit. I did stop drinking as much. I am down to like 2-3 cups a day which feels great for me. I was drinking like 8-10. Oh yeah. I’m nicer now.
Greg Pizzoli, people. Is he awesome or what?
So yeah. That’s pretty much my favorite thing on the internet right now. Did you catch the part where the period at the end of the sentence becomes a spotlight for good old K-Roc?! I love that detail.
The Watermelon Seed! Greg Pizzoli! Thanks for hanging out here! We love your book. And you are top notch, too.
I have no children. I have board books. Is this weird? Maybe. But these in particular are little graphic design studies. I will not literally try to chew them, but they are definitely droolworthy.
Do you know Alexander Girard? He was a midcentury designer, specializing in color and textiles. I’m crazy about the Nativity set at that link. And while most people have heard of Herman Miller, Girard was the designer that sizzled up their furniture line with his palettes. He said this, which made me fall in love a little: “People got fainting fits if they saw bright, pure color.”
He did it anyway.
So this little book is a huge celebration of his style, color, and desire to make you faint and fall in it.
How about Charley Harper? He took a vibrant love of color from the natural world, and distilled that into his pictures. I adore that on first glance, whimsy and delight dances around, but a longer gaze reveals storytelling ingenuity. He said, “When I look at a wildlife or nature subject, I don’t see feathers, fur, scapulars, or tail coverts—none of that. I see exciting shapes, color combinations, patterns, textures, fascinating behavior, and endless possibilities for making interesting pictures.”
And this tiny treasure explodes with his search for endless possibilities. And it’s lovely.
Was I right about that whole droolworthy thing? I know.
So you have to do a couple things for me. First, dash off to the library for a copy of this book. Better yet – the bookstore, cause you probably won’t want to give it back.
And then visit the always delightful Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast’spost. She’s got final spreads and sketches and you’ll probably never claw your way out of that web of beauty.
When I got my hands on this book late last year, I fell in love. Why I was blindsided by its Caldecott Honor nod I have no idea! Of course it won. Can’t wait to see a version with that shiny silver sticker.
But while you’re gone or while you’re here, think about texture, and how it gives life to most anything we see. In design, texture represents on a flat plane what your fingers could touch were it three dimensional.
You’d eat a shiny red apple before you’d eat a furry, rotted one, right? We respond to texture.
But in art, texture adds a layered depth to whatever story is being told, and that’s why Sleep Like a Tiger is so beautiful to behold.
The battle for sleep is not as simple as mom and dad saying so + child + pillow. I’m not a parent and I know that much! It’s complicated, messy, and doesn’t always make sense. It’s dreamy. And so is the cast of characters that is larger than life and also snuggled up in this wee person’s bed.
I love the overlapping lines and patterns. And the scrapes and smudges and intricate detail. These pictures are warmth wrapped up in a blanket with a side of hot tea.
And side note: I adore the recurring circles in the pages. A wheel, a sun, a moon – all subtle reminders of the cycle of sleep.
I’m not usually too keen on princess books. I just…don’t get the appeal? And the pink? And the super sweetness?
Princess Amanita is my kind of girl, though. She’s prickly and fearless, and she has a killer hairdo. (I’ll overlook her love for cats. They still make me nervous.)
Remember Dashka Slater? She’s the brain behind a story full of words like stink lilies, heckle-berries, and sentences like ‘It sounded like a troop of monkeys playing tubas.’
Fun, lively, and funny, much as l imagine her to be.
And Valeria Docampo has a sweeping style that evokes a monster sense of wonder in me. This illustration that welcomes you to her website is breathtaking.
Her pictures are a perfect frame for Princess Amanita.
Shape is just any space that is enclosed by a line. They can be defined and pointy triangles, or round and comforting circles. Or perhaps just the space that’s left behind, in between two lines.
Princess Amanita is thorny on the outside, interested in danger and sharp things. So her hair resembles a scorpion tale, and her dress is outfitted in what looks like metal. Even her garden is prickly.
But she is sweet and friendly underneath it all, so the softness in the curves of her face and dress serve as a subtle reminder to us.
I love this spread. Gradually from left to right, the vines grow from pointy triangular thorns to the muted and organic lines of the Prince’s kingdom. Similar shapes tell a very different story.
And I adore these tiny frames that are dotted through the pages. The shape for these spot illustrations is bound by both curved and straight lines. She’s not all sweet, but she’s not all danger either.
I promise not to use bad puns like, “This book rocks!” or “Perfect for kids who don’t take science for granite!”
Much like another favorite, Sky High, Leo Geo uses size and scale in such an unusual way. Telling a story about a journey through the center of the earth calls for a different visual method than the standards we are used to.
So flip it 90 degrees and read top to bottom. Of course! Its width (or lack thereof!) perfectly frames the skinny tunnels and canals through which our ‘surface man’ drills.
And just when you get to the center, flip it 180 degrees and read bottom to top as you emerge with him to the other side of the world.
Throughout the entire journey, Leo Geo narrates his trip with a good healthy dose of science. You’ll get reminders of the difference between stalactites and stalagmites, what makes up the continental and oceanic crusts, and how many miles you would have to travel before reaching the core.
Even though his voice is conversational and funny, every once in a while you might run into a Quadclops or find a magic dagger. I love that this book becomes a spectacular combination of nonfiction and comic book.
By using only black and white, the reader gets to fill in the blanks and let their imagination run wild. The contrast between the whites of the tunnels and the black hash marks of piles and piles of fossils provide a very satisfying balance. The art is so intricate that I imagine a young reader (or an old one!) could pore over these pages for hours.
First. You have to read the interview with Lita Judge over at Jules’ Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast blog. That studio! That giant cat! Doesn’t she sound like the kind of person you want to have poached eggs and lemongrass tea with? Yes.
Red Sled is a perfect book for a cold and cozy winter. (Even if you are in the land of perpetual seventy degree weather. Still perfect.)
It’s mostly wordless, but the words that do exist capture the sounds of the crispy, crunchy snow, and the wheees and whoops of a whimsical winter bunch.
The palette is quiet and bright; the winter whites are a highlight. But then! There’s a red sled. A peek of a red cap. Tiny bursts of color on an otherwise muted scene.
Also, I adore how Lita used a border to contain the scenes in the pages. Something about that feels extra cozy and warm. Instead of bleeding to the edge of the page, the pictures are all wrapped in a wintry white blanket. Perhaps a nice reminder of the snug-and-settled-in-ness of the season?
And any book that ends with a mouse tangled up in moose antlers is a guaranteed smile-getter.
What you can’t see from this picture is the texture of the spine. It feels like canvas, maybe? And the front and back cover are offset from it a bit? So many question marks. So not familiar with the intricacies of bookmaking!
Point is…it’s a nice touch. (BAD PUN ALERT!)
But really, it is! This book is so striking before you even open the cover, and that danger zone spine is just one of the reasons.
This is the inside cover, and Maria van Lieshout’s homage to the designers of street signs. LOVE IT. And she’s right, saying, “We don’t usually give thought to the story behind the signs.”
Did you know these symbol signs received the Presidential Award for Design Excellence in 1984?
ME NEITHER!
So, like she says: Please DO ENTER!
We look at these signs every single day, and rely on them to communicate the rules of the road. Wouldn’t it be harder to read and harder to keep safety first if they were fancy and less bold?
Bet you didn’t count on a trip to the DMV when you stumbled across this blog today, but the shapes matter! Pay attention.
Did you know?
Octagons = Stop
Upside Down Triangle = Yield
Circle = Almost always a railway crossing. Choo chop!
The Long Rectangle Created By Opening This Book = The shape of a road, directing your reading road trip
Oh, the 101. I drive this road every. Single. Day. As tedious as that sounds, (and IS in rush hour!) this page gave me a little extra grin.
{Please, please, please…if you live in San Francisco, GO SEE THEM at the Cartoon Art Musuem on October 4th. Please! For me.}
Ganesha’s Sweet Tooth is based on a legend in Hindu mythology, but this version has jawbreakers! And a mouse pal! And SPECTACULAR illustrations!
Spectacular is really an understatement. I don’t think I know a word that can contain how spectacfantasterrificawesome these pictures are.
Endpapers that look like blueprints and sketches set the tone for a fresh story, enhanced so beautifully by shape and line.
From the title page on, this book will knock you out graphically. You will see stars (shape!) and vibrating birdies (movement!) flitting around your brain.
Ok. Let me back up a minute. Do you know Darshana Khiani? You should. She reviews books on her blog and always shares gems. And SHE is a gem. We met at the LA SCBWI conference in 2011, but what we didn’t know is that we would bump into each other over and over again online this year and become fast friends. So cool. Darshana emailed me a couple of weeks ago and told me I had to stop, drop, and roll myself to this book ASAP.
I love that she thought I would love it. I love that she was right. And I love that she suggested doing a joint review on it today.
So much hops off the pages of Ganesha’s Sweet Tooth that my brain hurts to know where to begin. From the title page up a few pictures, to the repeated circles on the illustration above, shape dominates the pages. It’s a smorgasbord of circles, squares, and triangles.
Oh, this page. After every handful of illustrations, your eyes land on a picture like this one. The bright colors quiet for a moment, and these particular pages are striking in their stark contrast. White text, white graphic elements, and one bold, rich color. There’s something about pacing here, and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is that happens, but aesthetically, the balance is just outstanding.
A story about a sweet tooth begs for a decadent color palette, and these hues are just plain tasty and delightful.
Get this book. (Listen to Darshana, even if you think I am bonkers. She has good taste.)
Sorry for shouting, but I am in awe. Good, bad, and news. That’s it. But the story wrapped up in those three little words is hysterical, endearing, frustrating, and satisfying. Kudos to Jeff Mack, this is some serious storytelling.
{And truly, there are four words, but I don’t want to give away the ending. Still. That’s not a lot.}
If you loved Remy Charlip’s Fortunately, you will adore Good News Bad News.
{And if you are unfamiliar with Remy Charlip’s Fortunately, stop reading and RUN to your nearest library. We’ll be here.}
The illustrations are so lively they almost buzz with animation. And Mouse’s eyeballs are beyond expressive. His reactions are laugh out loud hilarious.
But something I especially love about the design of this book is its shape. Square.
Squares are solid, grounded, and balanced. The square is the perfect frame for this equilibrium of good and bad fortune. The tension between the good news and the bad news is net force is zero (fancy math terms, what?! Or physics?)
Even. Symmetrical. Square.
A seemingly subtle consideration, but I would wager that it was important in the design of this book.
by Janice Lovoos
I’m in love. From the texture of a porcupine, to the form of mountains and weeds, to the repetition inside a squash, design is everywhere.
