Me and Shakespeare.

My whole life - well since I learned to read - has had a constant stream of words woven through it, connecting me with poets, novelists and playwrights, first as child watching black and white classics with my Grandma, through school in English Literature classes and then as an illustrator making pieces of work inspired by writing.

I thought it was about time I catalogued the famous and not so famous writers I've worked with and for, as I have had the pleasure of working with many.

Today is 'Shakespeare 400' day - he died on his birthday - so I'm sharing some of the pieces I did for the big re-brand of the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust a few years ago. This blog wasn't running then, so it didn't really get catalogued.

The Guardian recently ran this article on Ten Ways In Which Shakespeare Changed The World, and it's absolutely true that his ideas, take on life and way of putting things - and actually, in very easy language, once you can get past the schoolkid fear of the writing style - are very much part of our vocabulary today. "A fool’s paradise" is his, as is  “the game is up”; “dead as a doornail”; “more in sorrow than in anger” and “cruel, only to be kind” - there are LOADS.

My love for William Shakespeare began with the visuals though, when an Auntie bought us 'The Bloody Book', a Victor Ambrus-illustrated collection of simplified Shakey stories that spared none of the visceral gore of the plays. My Mum was dubious about it, but we loved the blood-splattered ghost of Duncan, and Romeo outstretched on the deceased Juliet. Romeo was devastatingly handsome, and Juliet had fantastic red hair, all captured in Ambrus's jittery inked line and furiously energetic 70s colours. They were the most terrifying and brilliant drawings I'd ever seen.

'All day long the battle raged'

While I could never reach the dizzying skill levels of Victor's pen nib, I did end up working with Shakespeare - as a degree student I made a pop-up recipe book full of disgusting Tudor recipes to make a meal 'as eaten in Shakespeare's Day', illustrated of course - part of a fictional rebranding of Stratford on Avon. A few years later I got to do the real thing.

Sadly this branding was replaced recently with a rather safe font-only option and all of the signage removed, so no trace of it exists. However, this is what it looked like, produced in collaboration with PHWT in Leamington Spa. I think they saw the spiky calligraphic nib action I was doing a lot of at the time (thanks in no small part to Victor A) and saw a match:

So wobbly! I'm still amazed how much they embraced the wonkiness and energy of the lettering. 

It's a bit raw innit?

I drew each of the houses in the Birthplace Trust's care - these are still some of my favourite illustrations:

Later on I did this poster for a Wyndham Theatre production of Much Ado About Nothing - classic Shakespeare in that it's a slight cuss, but a loving one, and a delayed-reaction one too:

And later on this series of book covers for Quarto - one for each book - which in the end didn't go ahead, but I enjoyed the process of doing the work. 

I like to think there may be more Shakespeare projects to explore  in coming years, but there are so many writers in the world - maybe I should just wait and see what comes my way. It's nice to mine the past, but brilliant new things are being written every day.

I'll be covering my relationship with other writers in upcoming blogs - Dickens, Austen, the Brontës, Sage Francis, Katie Wirsing, Buddy Wakefield, Jo Nadin, Hayley Long, Robert Burns...and a little bit of Robert Frost.

The Secret Members' Show, or How I fell In Love With Ink Again.

I'm an illustrator, which means I'm a pen-wielding gun for hire; proficient at answering briefs, often to short deadlines; navigating the demands of as many as sixteen clients at once (that's my record to date) and firing work out of the studio like so many curlicued ping-pong balls.

I can do this for months on end, but it takes its toll. You see I love doing books covers, and adverts, and packaging, but there's an itch that constantly waits to be scratched until an opportunity arises. It can only wait so long before the equilibrium begins to distort, and the urge to create some personal, entirely self-generated work becomes all-consuming. Like any bodily need - thirst, sleep, hunger, sex - if this is continually denied, I start to feel physically out of sorts.

 

So. When Leigh and I - in our capacity as curators of Factoryroad - wrote the brief for our Secret Members' Show, I knew there was a chance to do something I rarely get the time to do: express...and play.

The brief was thus:

"As you’re already aware we would like you to grace our new gallery with your interpretation, celebration, homage, tale or observation of the male member.

Be aware this isn't some 'just for laffs', cheesy feminism show; it has nothing to do with girl power or porn or Ann Summers. Neither is it a sombre acknowledgement of the weapon of mass production/oppression shared by the fairer sex.

No! This is a celebration of each creative female's feelings about this extension of the males who have coloured their lives, or which inspired the exchange of stories. Only female creatives are taking part.

The subject is apolitical, universal, timeless; it is variously a symbol of hope, new life, love, but also of war, fear, threat and oppression. They can be funny, characterful, and as unique as the men who wear them."


I did three pieces for the show itself, but the collection was held together by the poster. Since the subject matter was to remain secret to everyone but the participants, I wanted it to hint at peeping, vaudeville, burlesque, Victorian pornography, but also craftsmanship and exuberance. It was all hand-drawn at A2 in black Talens Ecoline ink with a variety of nibs, and a 0.2 and 0.3 fineliner for the very small type, on Fabriano 230gsm 100% recycled paper. The RSVP hand and the 'censored' little boy were also drawn in pen and ink.

It took three days, and with the exception of the three show pieces themselves - one video essay, one sculpture and one large-scale drawing in coloured pencil - I can't remember enjoying a piece of work this much in years.

Here's the original A2 art, done in one take - no digital, just planning, patience, and the odd little blob of Tippex:

 

Here's the little boy having his tender eyeballs protected (the show was thoroughly 'unsuitable for children'):

 

And for the postal invitations, I added a simple serif font (Niew CroMagnon) and rejigged the elements. The motif was used on all the information panels, the welcome poster, the tea towel wrappers and the leaflets. We've hung the original, appropriately enough, on the Victorian door of the bathroom.

You can read about the show and its opening night on the Factoryroad Gallery website, and see most of the work. If you would like a print of the piece, please get in touch.

Meet my devastating new weaponry.

A 48-colour box of Faber Castell brush pens with raked tiering and flip-top box, fastened by paper button and thread and supplied with free bottle of felt tip magic, which I am pouring all over my new work. They are shown next to my other artillery, the Staedtler Triplus set, three years old and still the blazin' squad.