Showing posts with label fairy tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fairy tales. Show all posts

Monday, 21 October 2013

The Baba Yaga Book


BABA YAGA - famous iron-toothed witch of Russian folk tale. She lives in a house which walks about on chicken's legs and she flies in a mortar and pestle through the sky. Her garden fence is made of children's bones, and those who approach her hut in the woods must do so with all their wits and truths about them.
You may remember me painting this version of her a couple of years ago, and that I mentioned it was for a book all about Baba Yaga and her various conjurings in word and image. I am pleased to announce that the book - Baba Yaga: The Wild Witch of the East in Russian Fairy Tales - has finally been published by Mississippi University Press.


The whole thing is a lavish hardback creation with a plethora of images of Baba Yaga ranging from old lubok prints, Ivan Bilibin illustrations, old laquerwork paintings to more modern renderings familiar and new, and amongst them is my painting! There are some wonderful tales collected together here in honour of this most formidable of witches, and fascinating words of introduction by the translator of the tales Sibelan Forrester and folklorist Jack Zipes.


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A beautifully illustrated collection of fairy tales about the most iconic and active of Russian magical characters

Baba Yaga is an ambiguous and fascinating figure. She appears in traditional Russian folktales as a monstrous and hungry cannibal or as a canny inquisitor of the adolescent hero or heroine of the tale. In new translations by Sibelan Forrester, Baba Yaga: The Wild Witch of the East in Russian Fairy Tales is a selection of tales that draws from the famous collection of Aleksandr Afanas'ev, but also includes some tales from the lesser-known nineteenth-century collection of Ivan Khudiakov. This new collection includes beloved classics such as "Vasilisa the Beautiful" and "The Frog Princess," as well as a version of the tale that is the basis for the ballet The Firebird.

The foreword and introduction place these tales in their traditional context with reference to Baba Yaga's continuing presence in today's culture--the witch appears iconically on tennis shoes, tee shirts, even tattoos. The stories are enriched with many wonderful illustrations of Baba Yaga, some old (traditional "lubok" woodcuts), some classical (the marvelous images from Victor Vasnetsov and Ivan Bilibin), and some quite recent or solicited specifically for this collection.

Sibelan Forrester, Swarthmore, Pennsylvania, is a professor of Russian at Swarthmore College and coeditor of Engendering Slavic Literatures. Helena Goscilo is a professor of Russian culture and visual culture, and is Department Chair of Slavic and East European languages and cultures at Ohio State College of Humanities, and coeditor of Politicizing Magic: An Anthology of Russian and Soviet Fairy Tales. Martin Skoro, Minneapolis, Minnesota, is a graphic designer and illustrator at MartinRoss Design.

256 pages (approx.), 8 1/2 x 11 inches, 45 color illustrations, introduction, foreword, bibliography
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A wonderful book for lovers of Russian folktales, art and all those brave bearers of skull-lanterns through dark forests... 


And if you would like a print of my painting(s) of Baba Yaga... just step this way.

Tuesday, 26 March 2013

Small Visitations from a Winter-Dusted Equinox


A BLUE BRIGHT COLD DAWN blew in the other day. It was a surprise amid these endless fogged and drenched grey days of unspring. Chicklets under our eaves, gambolling lambs and dogged primroses are chirping out the fact of spring, their joys flitting over the Equinox and on through white-blanketed March, whilst we huddle indoors, disbelieving the daffodils and wondering what happened to the sun. 


This blue bright morning was beautiful though, and all etched in frost. Macha and I climbed the hill behind our house where you can see all across the valley of villages and out beyond onto Dartmoor. A mist crept in, silent and low, hanging between the hills and whispering over the roofs of the just-waking houses.


Frozen mornings trap beauty in a certain thrilling way. The ochres and browns of winter's trees and hedges hummed in patchworks around the shadow blues of iced fields. 


As the morning rose, the light pinked the far-off moors before it reached us.


There's a magnificent old sentinel pine tree on the hill behind our house, a homing land mark for getting lost on long rambles over the fields, and a memory-keeper for all that happens in the valleys below.


Macha and I stepped quietly through the dawning, smelling new things from the night, and looking down into the day shining crisply at our feet.


Other days have brought snows, which have dusted the toes of birches, the roofs of shacks and weighed heavy on the confused petals of spring.
 

On the rare days we have sun, it plays a game of chase with the frost across the thatched roof of our cottage, until the colder of them wins at the end of the day anyway.


There have been beautiful visitations at unexpected moments too. I encountered the swoop of a tawny owl one night as I drove home along a dark lane. It landed on a branch overhanging the road, and so I stopped and turned off the engine to watch it. It crouched there with something in its claws looking me directly in the eye. Then it flew off into the night, dropping the whateveritwas onto the road. I peered and noticed it moving. So I got out of the van and went over to find a baby rabbit, screaming, but apparently unhurt. I picked it up and took it home in my lap, where it crouched, the terrible screaming subsiding eventually. Once home, it almost met its end again after leaping from my lap and running to the darkest corner of the room where Macha leapt after it. Deciding that I wasn't going to be able to raise this little one myself, I took it outside in the dark to find a rabbit hole. It was small, and probably too young to survive alone. I don't know whether rabbits adopt young, but this one had already been flown far from its home, so I had to try. It sat still on my open palm for a while, sniffing the air. Then - hop, hop, hop - it bounced down the rabbit hole I'd found for it, and out of my story.

Another night brought a flitting-flapping floor-bound moth to the corner of my eye. It also nearly ended up as a dog-snack, but I held it for a while, its wings so light green and papery, they were almost an entirely new colour. I had a chance to remember this one with my camera before I released it to a night time of moon and owl silence.


The letterbox has also brought wonders from other shores, whilst we stay in by the fire as the winter refuses to withdraw her talons.
These beautiful hand-spun, hand-knitted sock masterpieces were knitted by Teleri Gray in Germany in return for some of my prints. I am so delighted by their intricacy and perfect fit, I almost can't bear to wear them and prematurely destroy the heels with my chicken feet! 

photo © Sylvia Linsteadt
And last but most surely not least, a wonder-tale through the mail, written by my amazingly talented word-magician friend Sylvia Linsteadt. This is part one of the Gray Fox Epistles, a fairytale-by-post project that she has created, and which you can sign up for too, at her blog. This first story is a retelling of the Celtic tale, The Children of Lir, and my goodness is it an artful and beautifully-wrought thing! Sylvia makes the land speak across centuries, and conjures a world so familiar to me, that it is all the more strange for it. 
The envelope arrived, all wrapped in wonder and the footprints of deer, and tucked inside were wild clover leaves, redwood needles and a single wild jackrabbit hair. Sylvia has magic in her quill, and I urge you all, each and every one, to sign up for her next story which will be a unique retelling of the Russian tale, Tsarevna Frog. One fine and not too distant day, our arts will share pages, but for that you shall have to wait...


The cold nights are still woodstove firelit and damp window-paned, and our days have been filled with the little plans of coming months. I have painted and drawn and begun preparing a new studio space which must be reached through a trapdoor (of that more anon), and Tom is deep in the gruelling last months of acupuncture studies. The truck awaits our dreams and hammers and nails still, as it crouches under its tarpaulin blanket until clearer skies come this way. Mythic midsummer exhibitions are in the cauldron. My ideas, as ever, tramp and stamp like a herd of snorting wild horses held at the end of a bunch of long tethers in my hand as the year marches on happily and strangely.


Wednesday, 2 May 2012

A May Miscellany


A RARE REACH OF SUNLIGHT falls down through our cottage windows, illuminating a year's worth of dust and spider architecture. The rain has been unrelenting lately: crashingly deep rivers cascading down the gutters, and a blanket of grey that never really lightens the day before dark comes again, so this sun is welcome indeed. April showers are one thing but, as May begins, we long for long warm days again, and outside, and summer, and before this sunny respite, we'd begun to stop believing summer would ever come. 


Over the last months, I've been doing lots of little jobs, commissions and creations, had my work included here and there, and have quite a bit to tell. So, taking the opportunity of a sunlit desk on which to photograph things, here, in a sort of spring miscellany of doings, it all is...


First of all, a hinged bell-dancer, a paper painted shaman puppet of many colours...
She was created for an online exhibition of maquettes put together by the fantastic artist Clive Hicks-Jenkins (whose quite wonderful paintings can be seen here). Clive invited a host of artists and creators to contribute maquettes of their imagining to this little exhibition which you can see at his blog in several parts. I'm amazed at my fellow artists' pieces - in particular the work of Jodi Le Bigre, Peter Stevenson, Philippa Robbins and Janet Kershaw. 


I found the process of making these quite interesting - Clive had suggested that the making of movable figures like this really helps in the composition of a painting, and in the end, more dynamic figures. You can play with the positioning and find great personality in altering the movements to express a different feeling. 



The difficult part of making these for me was drawing the body parts separately. I realised I use relative positionings in a painting to evoke feeling, to conjure the character as I build the image; and so making a blasted-apart person forced me to work in a different way, which isn't a bad thing from time to time, is it?



Here the bell-dancer dangles in the momentarily sunny studio window beside fellow puppets and curios...


I also made a kind of wayfarer; he isn't quite finished, as he needs more attachments and accessories which I didn't have time to complete... and with an animation in mind, I left off the split pins and posed him just as he was.






I'm really grateful to Clive's generous spirit for putting together such an interesting collection of artists and encouraging playful creativity like this. Expect more hinged beings in due course, perhaps dancing to a tune or two.

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Next, Unfathomable Baba Yagas...
One of my Baba Yaga illustrations was included in this new book by eminent fairy tale scholar Jack Zipes - The Irresistible Fairy Tale ~ The Cultural & Social History of a Genre, published by Princeton University Press. I'm really very delighted to be included (alongside Paula Rego!) in this exciting new book, and shall add it to my teetering to read pile beside the bed.
(The art on the front cover, by the way, is by Kiki Smith.)


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Third, I'm happy to say that my work has been woven once again with that of my talented friend Polly Paulusma, (whose song The Woods I made my first stop motion animation for back in 2006). Her lovely new album, Leaves From The Family Tree features my painting Anja in the Horse Chestnut, hanging on the wall in the background of the front cover photograph. I also drew some horse chestnuty border designs for the album cover, and the painting is featured in full  on the inside booklet. Do go and have a listen (my favourite is Last Week Me), and should you like what you hear, please consider supporting a self-produced artist and her music.


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Fourth in the bag of miscellaneous doings... a logo for a picture framer. I was asked by Stephen Murphy if I could create a logo for his business that had the feel of a medieval craftsman, a little like the Bagpipe Society logo I created a while back. Here's the original drawing and the stages of it being logoified.

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And then, a painting of dreams... This little watercolour was made for Joy McCall, a regular and supportive customer of mine. She had long imagined these favourite lines by Langston Hughes in a painting and so this is what I made.





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Earthlines is a fantastic new quarterly magazine published by Sharon Blackie of Two Ravens Press, based on a croft in the Outer Hebrides, which seeks to create a platform for wild writing rooted in land and story. This first issue features a wonderful story by my Tom - The Bear Outside, illustrated in ink by me...




I urge you all to go and buy a copy this minute, or even better, subscribe. We're in excellent company in this magazine, as you'll see from the contents page of the first issue. There's an interview with Jay Griffiths, a review of Martin Shaw's book A Branch From the Lightning Tree - Ecstatic Myth & The Grace In Wildness, paintings by Catherine Hyde, writing and poetry by Em Strang and bardic damnation verse by Alastair MacIntosh, to name just a few choice delights. Rarely do you find such heartful, wildful, thoughtful, artful folks' work collected together so beautifully, I almost don't feel worthy to be included, though I hope to be writing a longer article for a forthcoming issue.


One night, Ursula dreamed of the bear. It was made of ice and river-wood and the bones of otters, full of pebbles and pine resin and the lost songs of bees. It towered over the house. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

~ from The Bear Outside by Tom Hirons, published in Earthlines, Issue 1, May 2012


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And now to some forthcoming doings, which I must tell you about...
Next week we're off on the yearly expedition to Suffolk and my favourite Weird & Wonderful Wood fair. Please stop by and say hello at our tent, should you be in the Eastern Angles and wishing for an afternoon amongst dendric delights.


And then later in May - on Saturday the 26th - we're holding a storytelling event at Stone Lane Gardens here on Dartmoor (where I took these photographs of an early flowering pink rhododendron by the water). These gardens are a specialist birch and alder arboretum which transforms into a sculpture exhibition between May and October every year. There are many rare species of birch and alder to wander amongst, collected from all over the world, and for one weekend there'll be parked amongst the trees two restored Gypsy wagons, at the steps of which Tom will be telling stories. They'll be Gypsy folk tales, from lands as far or near as Russia, England, Turkey, Wales, India, Greece, Romania, Serbia, Scotland... and I will be providing the (East European Gypsy) music (on accordion) alongside my talented musical partner in crime, Lisa Rowe of Hazaar (on fiddle and accordion). There'll be delicious food  cooked over the fire and home brewed cider under the sky. If you're in the South West, do grab a ticket, it's going to be a lovely evening. If you're not, cross your fingers for us that the rain stays away.


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As the rain clouds scud away from our skies, and we enjoy the drying puddles, the sparkling blades of grass, and the shadows of window panes across the desk, I'm making lists of What To Take on our journey to the east, and practising tunes, meeting weeds, attending weddings, planning paintings and more besides.  


Macha keeps watch over these hills as the green comes on, as the sun stretches her arms in the once more cloud-free skies and says to us this is May, may it begin...