April Illustrator: Kay Nielsen

 

This illustration, from Kay Nielsen's exquisite East of the Sun, West of the Moon, is one of my earliest memories. The Danish illustrator's exquisite 1914 collection of Scandinavian fairytales was one of my obsessions when I was learning to read, and the elegant prints captivated me.

 

Years later, I was surprised to learn that Nielsen was behind my favorite sequences in Fantasia, the "Ave Maria" and, of course, "Night on Bald Mountain".

 I don't think there's ever been anyone quite like Kay Nielsen. You might see some parallels to other Golden Age illustrators like Harry Clarke and Aubrey Beardsley - artists on the cusp of Art Nouveau. But Nielsen was a master or restraint, leaving open backgrounds of color and space which remind us of the fragility of the characters. His angular work still seems incredibly fresh.

               

Sadly, in spite of the huge body of work he produced in his lifetime, many of Nielsen's projects never came to fruition.

Can you imagine if Disney had produced The Little Mermaid in 1940?

Illustrators have never really been accepted by the wider art world, and Nielsen passed away in poverty. He has been remembered as little more than children's entertainment. Thanks to the internet, a wider scholarly acceptance of fairytale narratives, and a more anarchic view of what constitutes art.  Nielsen finally seems to be finding the fans he deserves. I know he will always have a place in my heart.

February Illustrator: Daniel Danger

I recently watched the great documentary Just Like Being There. While I'm not a fan of indie rock, I'm very interested in the thoughts and lives of working artists, and this glimpse into the thriving world of screen-print poster art was tremendously inspiring. However, one artist really stood out for me - New Englander and fellow "art-brat" Daniel Danger. 

His images are haunting - houses flying apart, visitations from ghosts and wolves, all imbued with the sense that the watcher is seeing something no one else gets to see. This is elegant modern illustration, catching the heart as well as the eye.

Most of my favorite artists are gone. Danger is still young, producing new work, and impossibly cool. I hope to be following him for a long time to come, and maybe own a picture or two someday.

 I mean, honestly. So perfect.

October Illustrator: Sidney Sime

"There's something those fellows catch - beyond life - that they're able to make us catch for a second. Doré had it. Sime has it. Angarola of Chicago has it. And Pickman had it as no man ever had it - or I hope to Heaven - ever will again." 

H.P. Lovecraft, Pickman's Model, 1927 

 The Soul of Andelsprutz - 1910

I discovered Sidney Sime a couple of years ago, through this exquisite and very complete post on Monster Brains. It's weird that it took me so long, as I the authors he worked with are some of my favorites. I mean, Lovecraft name-checks him, and Sime's work fulfills all the elements I love in illustration - that other-worldliness, that expression of something "beyond life".

It - 1911

Born poor in Manchester in 1867, Sime worked for five years in the coal mines before making his way to art school. He rose quickly as an illustrator of fantastic themes, just as such stories were becoming wildly popular. In 1904, he began the partnership with Lord Dunsany that would define his legacy. The most complete collection of Sime's work can still be seen, by appointment, at Dunsany Castle in County Meath, Ireland.

The City of Never - 1911

Romance Comes Down Out of Hilly Woodlands - 1910

I'd love to see some reproductions of these books published as they were in the early 20th century. Until then, I'll be combing the shelves for the illustrated Dover editions.

September Illustrator: Harry Clarke

The Irish artist Harry Clarke is probably best known for his edition of Tales of Mystery and Imagination, first published in 1919. These intensely detailed illustrations remain some of my favorites for the works of Poe, macabre and lush. 

Clarke's portrait of Poe could be of Roderick Usher. This Rasputinish expression turns up on most of Clarke's figures, as if expressing some madness barely contained.

In his day, he was known for his incredible stained glass, and this tendency toward burning gazes shows up even in Clarke's saints and angels.

It is easy to see his influence on modern illustration, especially graphic novels - the use of big, black space reminds me of Mike Mignola's work, for instance.

                Harry Clarke died young, most likely from exposure to the chemicals of his art. He left behind a legacy of imaginative darkness that is still shaping the art of the 21st century, more than 80 years after his death.