Brian Froud and the True Face of the Fair Folk (esmeralda figueras)

“After years of painting faeries, I’m often asked if I ‘believe’ in them. The best answer I can give is that I don’t have much of a choice in whether I believe in them or not, for they seem to insist on my painting them." — Brian Froud

Brian Froud is a British illustrator and graphic designer. Since the 1970’s, he has illustrated multiple children’s books and published dozens of art books. He’s also worked on various films, including The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth, as a concept artist. The common thread in these diverse media? Fairies.

Influenced by turn-of-the-century children’s books illustrators Arthur Rackham and Edmund Dulac, Froud is known internationally for his illustrations of the fair folk. But whereas traditionally, depictions of fairies looked like scantily clad women – often gliding and occasionally faintly glowing or with butterfly wings, as pictured below – Froud has moved verily into the realm of the inhuman.

(From left to right: excerpts from paintings by Johann Heinrich Füssli (1788), Sophie Gengembre Anderson (1869), Arthur Wrackham (1910), and Disney’s Peter Pan (1953))

Froud portrays fairies in a way that is as varied as the hills: wrinkly, leafy, twig-like, towering and miniscule. Some of them have beaked faces or spiny backs. More than a few have long, impossibly thin limbs attached to frogs feet or bony hands. Paging through his book, I could find fairies peeking out from toadstool caps and peering out of tree trunks. Yet every pixie, dryad, and troll maintains the same distinctive style.

It’s beautiful artwork, full of detail but with clearly defined focal points. Froud has mastered the dim lighting of the forest floor, as well as the soft ethereal glow of angels and cave worms. His primary mediums appear to be graphite and water color.

Even though it’s inhuman, it’s not unbelievable. Froud clearly has a solid grasp of human anatomy, and often exaggerates, stretches, and compresses anatomical features and human body language in a way that is still recognizable, if strange. The result can be charming, especially on all the fairies with wide cheek bones and a twinkle in their crinkled, fathomless black eyes.

Through a subdued, earthy color palette and organic textures, the artwork has a very natural feel to it – and that’s part of what makes it so epic. Looking at Froud’s illustrations, one can imagine the very rocks, trees, and rivers that inspired the original folk lore, long before the advent of Christianity and apparently, long after. Here, finally, one can make out the mischievous and outright dangerous beings who might lure travelers to their deaths or steal babies from cradles.

The last century has been good to fantasy art. With the creation of the film industry, and the increase in reading for pleasure, genre fantasy and speculative fiction developed, and with it, the entire field of Concept Art/Visual Development. In this context, numerous contemporary artists have radically changed the face of fantasy with less human-centric visions, though Brian Froud can still be given some credit for bringing olde-style faeries back into the popular imagination. Traces of his reimagination of the fair folk can be seen in the popular movie/book series The Spiderwick Chronicles, Holly Black’s The Good Neighbors, and Disney’s live action Maleficent, among other strange and wondrous fantasies.

Clockwise, from left: Excerpt from The Good Neighbors; screenshot of Disney's Maleficent; cover of The Spiderwick Chronicles #4, The Ironwood Tree

Sources:

Bryonie. “Brian Froud.” The Fernie Brae, The Fernie Brae Art Gallery, www.ferniebrae.com/brian-froud-1.

Images

Anderson, Sophie Gengembre. “Take the Fair Face of Woman...” Fairy, Wikimedia, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fairy#/media/File:SophieAndersonTakethefairfaceofWoman.jpg.

DiTerlizzi, Tony. “Cover Art of The Ironwood Tree.” The Ironwood Tree, Simon and Schuster, www.simonandschuster.com/books/The-Ironwood-Tree/Tony-DiTerlizzi/The-Spiderwick-Chronicles/9781442487024.

Froud, Brian. “Faeries Made of Leaves.” Phillip Reeve, Blog Spot, 3.bp.blogspot.com/-KSL0lvviz8E/UdMyWA31vSI/AAAAAAAAEDo/OM-oH3A_Fh4/s1600/979870_300068236796720_1290740923_o.jpg. 

Froud, Brian. “Glowing Blue Faerie with Toad Feet on a Toadstool.” The Art of Animation , Tumblr.com, 78.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lvhz29XuMA1qhttpto2_1280.jpg.

Füssli , Johann Heinrich. “‘Prince Arthur and the Fairy Queen.’” Fairy, Wikimedia, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fairy#/media/File:Johann_Heinrich_Füssli_058.jpg.

Naifeh, Ted. “Pages 98-99 of Good Neighbors #3.” A Little Faerie Magic, Ted Naifeh, tednaifeh.com/2010/02/25/a-little-faerie-magic/nggallery/image/good_neighbors_3-page098-99/.

Rackham, Arthur. “‘The Rhinemaidens Warn Siegfried.” Arthur Rackham, Wikimedia, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arthur_Rackham#/media/File:Siegfried_rhinemaidens.jpg.

“Screenshot from Maleficent.” Dan Hairfield.com, Wordpress, danhairfield.files.wordpress.com/2014/06/dom_trlr_1_still-87117_r_1920x1080.jpg.

“Screenshot from ‘Peter Pan Tinknapped’ Clip from Peter Pan.” Youtube.com, Susie Harrison, www.youtube.com/watch?v=O833unYoI5w.

Contemporary Art: Impacts (Elayne Wang)

What constitutes contemporary art? Are there certain characteristics that contemporary art has that other types and genres of art don't?

NYU defines contemporary art as simply "the art of today, produced by artists who are living in the twenty-first century." However, they go on to explain that contemporary art "defies easy definition" since it encompasses such a wide variety of mediums, methods, and subject matter. They describe contemporary art as more of a conversation between the artist and their environment, taking into account cultures, modern day issues, and the different roles people play in our advancing world. I personally don't believe contemporary art needs a specific definition since narrowing it down like that would go against what contemporary art stands for in the first place: an endlessly diverse reservoir of art created in today's world. Even though in the future it might become known as the art of our time period, right now part of contemporary art's appeal is it's all encompassing nature.

One of the more controversial contemporary artists is Jeff Koons. Jeff Koons is an extremely rich artist, but he is known for not actually making his art himself. Instead, he hires other artists to make his ideas into a concrete piece of art. One of his most famous pieces is the "Balloon Dog."



A pink version was even displayed in Versailles, causing some people to become annoyed by the simplistic and "crude" aura that disrupted the grandeur of the palace. However, others appreciated the out-of-place balloon, praising the contrast between art in the 1600-1700s versus today. Whether or not people agree with Koons's methods or not, he is undeniably an influential force in contemporary art that makes people rethink the concepts of sculpture and their role in the past and present.

Another contemporary artist whose works I personally really enjoy is Tim Cantor. A few of his newer works can be seen below.



"Affinité"



"Promised Land"

What I really admire about Cantor's work is his ability to create supernatural scenes with very realistic elements. In addition, there appears to be a story behind each of his works, but there isn't one clear interpretation. That way, each viewer can decide for themselves what each of his paintings mean. Is the man in "Promised Land" ascending, descending, or not moving at all? Are the birds literal or metaphorical? These types of questions make each one of Cantor's works exciting to look at.

It is interesting to see how different contemporary artists go about making an impact on their audience. It's also wonderful to me that in the world of contemporary art there is no one defined or right way to do it. It depends on both the artist, viewer, and the environment. I hope by the end of the semester I will be able to find what about my works best impacts the viewer so that I can effectively convey my feelings through my art.


Works Cited:

Cantor, Tim. “Affinité - Tim Cantor.” Tim Cantor, www.timcantor.com/affinite-preview-editions.html

NYU. “Definitions - Art + Education - NYU Steinhardt.” NYU Steinhardt, 2018, steinhardt.nyu.edu/art/education/definitions.

Stanska, Zuzanna. “Jeff Koons And His Balloon Dogs.” DailyArtMagazine.com - Art History Stories, 13 Feb. 2018, www.dailyartmagazine.com/jeff-koons-balloon-dog/.

Blog post 1: Image creation in the age of photography

One of the things that fascinates and vexes me about the practice of contemporary drawing (indeed most image-creating practices) is its fraught relationship with photography. My drawing process for a long time has been to work off of photographic references, creating edited composites where necessary for compositional planning purposes, and just transferring that to a finished product.

Lately, I’m inclined to think this is a very pointless process. If what I seek to accomplish by drawing and painting is to create images, then I could certainly do that much more easily by taking a photo—which is an instantaneous process—rather than by spending a good 4-5 hours recreating the image which at best would be a facsimile of a pixel-perfect digital copy. Nor can the potential to draw surrealistic scenes explain the value of drawing, because Photoshop works just as well.

To reconcile this, I’ve begun thinking about drawing as process rather than outcome. The process of looking carefully at something, paying attention to your surroundings, struggling with the very medium of pencil and pen, and being completely intentional with the marks that are made, is very meditative by nature. In this paradigm of drawing, we’re thinking not about making a beautiful final product, but instead about the act of drawing itself, with the mind focused entirely on being present in the moment.

I’m a huge fan of urban sketching and on-site drawing, and that’s mostly because I view those practices as answers to the short attention span that digital photography breeds. I say digital photography because the process of developing photos from film is also meditative—going into the dark room and working in a set process with the same sequence of chemicals—and has an element of delayed gratification. The official urban sketching manifesto states that you have to be physically present at your location and you aren’t allowed to work from photographic reference. It makes drawing time-bound and process-oriented. And although the final product is still a commodifiable drawing, the process is temporal.

My feelings about what drawing can mean to me might well have changed by the end of the semester. I’m in a digital photography class now and while it’s definitely shown me that there’s more to taking a good photo than pointing and shooting—having to mess with ISO, aperture and shutter speed to name a few—I still feel like photography has an element of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it time sensitivity. And then I suppose that urban sketching trades off some precision in the final product, because if you only draw from life you won’t be able to capture subjects that are transient well.

And in an age where images are ubiquitous and cheaply made, to physically draw something—from a digital photograph reference or otherwise—is almost a radical act, in much the same way that film photography has come back into vogue. To draw is to elevate and to confer significance. The practice stays relevant, though the reasons for its relevance change.

Contemporary Art: The Renwick Gallery (Maya Rinehart)

I live only two neighborhoods away from the Renwick Gallery in Washington, DC, and I realized this assignment could be a wonderful excuse to learn more about the contemporary art that is right down the block. The Renwick is a free Smithsonian art museum that was completely renovated in 2015 specifically to accommodate rotating exhibitions by contemporary artists, featuring site-specific installations that last around 6 months to a year each[1]. I think the diversity of the pieces, both across the range of the five exhibitions I’ve seen and also within each exhibit, characterizes contemporary art in general.

The opening exhibit, WONDER, featured nine contemporary artists whose works spanned the spectrum of art[2]. Still, the word “wonder” is an excellent description of the feeling that tied all of them together, from the bright rainbow of light from Gabriel Dawe’s woven installation to Maya Lin’s tentacles of glass marble that crept along the walls and floor of the next room over. Other artists used stacks of paper, old tires, and even colorful bugs.  It was amazing to me how each artist was able to inspire such intense emotions of amazement with such seemingly simple mediums. Together, the show really emphasized the point that there is art in everything. One artist, Patrick Dougherty, actually installed the stick sculpture in the middle of the duke gardens, “The Big Easy”, which was just taken down in August[3].

The installations and sculptures were not just intended to look pretty. Most of them had very specific inspirations and messages. Janet Echelman installed a huge woven piece that hung from the ceiling based off of the energy map from the earthquake and tsunami that hit Japan in 2011, intending to demonstrate “that what is wondrous can equally be dangerous”[4]. Leo Villareal hung hundreds of flashing lights from the ceiling that display patterns corresponding to code that he wrote based on the binary number system[5]. These examples of contemporary art put a lot of emphasis on representation and explore the ways in which information and ideas can be expressed and interpreted by a wide audience. One thing about the WONDER exhibit that I especially loved was that pictures and videos of the pieces were all over the Instagrams and Snapchats of everyone in my high school. The Renwick had successfully made contemporary art more accessible to young people.

In the past three years since WONDER, the Renwick has featured Rick Araluce’s model life-size subway station entitled “The Final Stop”, Frances Glessner Lee’s collection of miniature doll house crime scene recreations, and several other exhibits. During the hurricane I had the opportunity to see the current collection, “No Spectators: The Art of Burning Man”, featuring works from over fifteen artists and archival materials from the Nevada Museum of Art[6]. The exhibit also extends outside the gallery itself with six additional outdoor installations in the neighborhood in downtown DC. The Burning Man festival itself really characterizes contemporary art with its balance between incorporation of new technologies and ideas (what used to be fire is often now using LEDs and computers!) and the preservation of an annual cultural event that has been so impactful. 

I think overall what I’ve learned from visiting the Renwick Gallery for the past few years, and researching the artists these past few days, is that contemporary art is broad and allows artists to take liberties that older genres of art didn’t allow for. Still, really great contemporary art is tied together through intentional, emotion-provoking undertones that capture the attention of very specific audiences. One thing I need to work on in my art is being more deliberate about what I want my art to say and who it is intended for.

Works Cited

[1] Visit the Renwick Gallery.” Smithsonian American Art Museum, americanart.si.edu/visit/Renwick .

[2] “WONDER.” Smithsonian American Art Museum, americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/wonder.

[3] “‘The Big Easy.’” About Duke Gardens | Duke Gardens, gardens.duke.edu/Dougherty .

[4] “Janet Echelman.” Smithsonian American Art Museum, americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/wonder/janet-echelman.

[5] “Leo Villareal.” Smithsonian American Art Museum, americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/wonder/leo-villareal.

[6] “No Spectators: The Art of Burning Man.” Smithsonian American Art Museum, americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/burning-man.