Showing posts with label Leo and Diane Dillon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leo and Diane Dillon. Show all posts

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Remembering Leo Dillon

I fell in love with the art of Leo and Diane Dillon many years ago and have been reading and collecting their books ever since. After the heyday of Martin and Alice Provensen, the Dillons have been the husband-and-wife team that dominated, not only children's book art, but the world of sci-fi fantasy, particularly book jackets. They are also the only illustrators to ever receive back-to-back Caldecott awards—in 1976 for Why Mosquitoes Buzz in People's Ears (Verna Aardema) and in 1977 for From Ashanti to Zulu: African Traditions (Margaret Musgrove). They have since won at least three lifetime achievement awards for their body of work, along with many other honors.

It was a shock for me to learn that Leo Dillon died of lung cancer last week, and so soon after the death of Maurice Sendak.

The Dillons staked their claim with those two Caldecott awards years ago, and they continued to work in the field of children's books, most recently illustrating Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings' The Secret River last January and Patricia McKissack's Never Forgotten in October. They are also well known for their book jackets, especially for Harlan Ellison's work. They have done cover art for some famous children's series, too, such as The Chronicles of Narnia, A Wrinkle in Time and sequels, and the Earthsea books. Their son Lee is a sculptor and art jeweler who has sometimes collaborated with his parents.

Leo and Diane first met as rivals at the Parsons School of Design in New York City. According to Margalit Fox of The New York Times (May 30, 2012):
Viewing an exhibition of student work there one day, Mr. Dillon was captivated by a still life of an Eames chair.

“I knew it had to be by a new student because nobody in our class at the time could paint like that,” he told The Horn Book, a magazine about children’s literature. “This artist was a whole lot better than I. I figured I’d better find out who he was.”

“He” turned out to be Diane Claire Sorber, and a crackling competition ensued. “If one got a better place in a show, we wouldn’t speak for three weeks,” Ms. Dillon told The Seattle Post-Intelligencer in 1990.

In the end, the only thing for it was marriage, which, she said, “was a survival mechanism to keep us from killing each other.”

As Fox and others note, the Dillons describe their work together as a third artist, sometimes referred to as "It." In Deborah Kovacs and James Preller's book, Meet the Authors and Illustrators, we read Leo's explanations of the process:
Together we are able to create art we would not be able to do individually.

...Each illustration is passed back and forth between us several times before it is completed, and since we both work on every piece of art, the finished painting looks as if one artist has done it.

...After years and years of collaboration we have reached a point where our work is done by an agent we call the third artist.

The couple originally shared a studio, but later set up studios on separate floors—partly because Leo liked playing the music louder than Diane did.

Leo and Diane Dillon's distinctive style has an airbrushed look, with clean lines and stylized figures. However, they have been known to adapt their style depending on the project. One of the most beautiful books they've ever created is To Every Thing There Is a Season, in which they use art styles from different cultures and time periods for each couplet from the famous passage in Ecclesiastes.

Other books I amespecially fond of are Wind Child (story by Shirley Rousseau Murphy)—which includes sculptures by Lee Dillon, The People Could Fly: American Black Folktales (Virginia Hamilton), Pish Posh Said Hieronymus Bosch (Nancy Willard) and Switch on the Night (Ray Bradbury). There are many more, of course. The artists have done some particularly beautiful books based on black culture and folktales. In addition to books already mentioned, they illustrated Leontyne Price's Aida, Mansa Musa: The Lion of Mali (Khephra Burns), Many Thousand Gone: African Americans from Slavery to Freedom (also by Virginia Hamilton), and their own Jazz on a Saturday Night as well as Rap a Tap Tap: Here's Bojangles—Think of That! The Dillons' Mother Goose Numbers on the Loose and The Goblin and the Empty Chair by Mem Fox are two more books I like very much.

Alice Provensen created books on her own after losing her husband Martin, and I expect that Diane Dillon will do likewise. But without Leo, it won't be the same. The second artist is gone, and with him the third artist. Even so, because of the rich legacy of his book illustration and the personal legacy he has left his friends and family, Leo Dillon, as his book title from last fall puts it, will be Never Forgotten.

Saturday, February 18, 2012

Black History Month Medley

Lots of bits and pieces today, all in honor of Black History Month. First, two new picture books from HarperCollins:

Freedom's a-Callin Me by Ntozake Shange, illustrated by Rod Brown

Shange is well known as a poet and author, perhaps most notably for For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/When the Rainbow Is Enuf. She has written other children's books, We Troubled the Waters—illustrated by Rod Brown—and Coretta Scott and Ellington Was Not a Street, illustrated by Kadir Nelson.

This new book is a collection of poems about the African American slave experience, with the focus on failed and successful efforts to escape to freedom. There is a loose narrative arc, beginning with a poem about a young man who tries to escape. In the second we see he has been caught and is being whipped for it. "Never again?" Hardly. Again he tries, and he seems to get farther this time. The poems aren't all about the same young man, though. We get a poem about Sojourner Truth and a group of slaves who are escaping, one about a slave tracker, and another about a man who is caught while the rest of his group gets away. The swamp, an abolitionist, a secret hiding place, and more make their appearances in Shange's book. The poems are strong of voice and spirit. They are probably too strong in theme for the younger crowd, but their very potency makes them a valuable, moving read for children perhaps 8 or 9 and up. Here's a sample from "Time Tuh Go," in which a wife asks her husband not to go and he replies:
but listen to me
ah jus' can't take it no more
ah am not some animal to be worked from dawn to dusk
livin on the entrails of hogs & such
ah am a livin bein' & ah got to be free
or ah am goin to kill somebody real soon
somebody white who don't even see me
ah don't want to be a killer
ah jus' want to be a free man


When Grandmama Sings by Margaree King Mitchell, illustrated by James E. Ransome

Belle's Grandmama has an amazing voice, and when she gets a chance to tour the South with a swing jazz band, she takes Belle along. The story begins:
My Grandmama Ivory Belle Coles loved to sing. She sang in the church choir. She sang while she cooked and cleaned and worked in the garden. Whenever she wasn't singing, she was humming.

We lived in Pecan Flats, Mississippi. The summer I was eight, Grandmama would come by the house and listen to me read to my sister, Carrie. Grandmama couldn't read herself. But she always had a song to sing.

When Grandmama goes on tour and brings Belle, Belle experiences segregation and discrimination firsthand in the form of whites-only hotels and restaurants, a club manager who refuses to pay Grandmama and the band, and police who pull the group over and dump all of their things on the side of the road just because. Without getting everyone in trouble, Grandmama stands up for what's right as best she can. The book ends with a marvelous concert at the band's last stop, and even though the white people sit on the main floor and the black people sit in the balcony, everyone there loves the same music. When Grandmama Sings doesn't shy away from the hard realities of the era, but it shows how Grandmama perseveres and sets an example of hope for her granddaughter. Belle's voice and the simple narrative keep the book from being preachy, but the story carries a great message just the same.


Next, an homage to one of my favorite poets, Langston Hughes. Did you know it was his birthday a few weeks ago, on February 1? Here's a nice bit of biography from Wiki (see footnotes for original sources):
While in grammar school in Lincoln, Hughes was elected class poet. Hughes stated that in retrospect he thought it was because of the stereotype that African Americans have rhythm.[12] "I was a victim of a stereotype. There were only two of us Negro kids in the whole class and our English teacher was always stressing the importance of rhythm in poetry. Well, everyone knows, except us, that all Negroes have rhythm, so they elected me as class poet."[13] During high school in Cleveland, Ohio, he wrote for the school newspaper, edited the yearbook, and began to write his first short stories, poetry, and dramatic plays. His first piece of jazz poetry, "When Sue Wears Red", was written while he was in high school. It was during this time that he discovered his love of books.

Langston wrote one of his most famous poems at the age of 17 as a he rode a train over the Mississippi. Here is how "The Negro Speaks of Rivers" begins:
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

Langston attended Columbia University for a year or so, but left because of prejudice and his focus on Harlem. He was part of the Harlem Renaissance and a key inventor of jazz poetry. (See photo of Ella Fitzgerald and Dizzy Gillespie, below left.) He also wrote short stories, plays, and numerous essays. Langston began basing his poetry more and more on the rhythms of the street. He explains:
Seventh Street in Washington was the long, old, dirty street where ordinary Negroes hang out. On Seventh Street they played the blues, ate watermelon, shot pool, told tall tales, and looked at the Dome of the Capitol and laughed out loud. I listened to their blues. And I went to their churches and heard the tambourines play and the little tinkling bells of the triangle adorn the gay shouting that sent sisters dancing down the aisle for joy. I tried to write poems like the songs they sang on South Street, ...songs that had the pulse beat of the people who keep going. Like the waves of a sea coming one after another, so is the undertow of black music with its rhythm that never betrays you, its strength like the beat of a human heart, its humor, and its living power. [quoted in the Introduction to Poetry for Young People: Langston Hughes, ed. David Roessel and Arnold Rampersad, Sterling 2006.]

You might call Langston Hughes the father of the "black is beautiful" movement. His own father was ashamed of his race, but Langston worked long and hard to express his love and honor for his people, as in the poem "My People":
The night is beautiful,
So the faces of my people.

The stars are beautiful,
So the eyes of my people.

Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.

Langston was a wise and diligent dreamer, and some of his best poems are about dreams. One that is dear to my heart is titled simply "Dreams":
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

Certain poems by Langston Hughes are often anthologized, of course. Here is one you may not have seen, "Homesick Blues":
De railroad bridge's
A sad song in de air.
De railroad bridge's
A sad song in de air.
Ever time de trains pass
I wants to go somewhere.

I went down to de station.
Ma heart was in ma mouth.
Went down to de station.
Heart was in ma mouth.
Lookin' for a box car
To roll me to de South.

Homesick blues, Lawd,
'S a terrible thing to have.
Homesick blues is
A terrible thing to have.
To keep from cryin'
I opens ma mouth an' laughs.

I highly recommend two books about Langston Hughes and his poems: the poet's own The Dream Keeper and Other Poems, illustrated by Brian Pinkney (Alfred A. Knopf, 2007) and Poetry for Young People: Langston Hughes, referenced above. You can read an account of the writing of "The Negro Speaks of Rivers" in a picture book, Langston's Train Ride, by Robert Burleigh, illustrated by Leonard Jenkins (Orchard, 2004). Or look for a lovely rendering of the poem itself, The Negro Speaks of Rivers, illustrated by E.B. Lewis (Hyperion, 2009).

Now, here's a nice link to some good books for kids about African American history and achievements. You'll notice that one is a book of poems for children by Langston Hughes, The Sweet and Sour Animal Book.


Finally, a shout-out to some of my favorite black illustrators, whether elder statesmen or up-and-comers:

Ashley Bryan—2012 winner of the Coretta Scott King/Virginia Hamilton Lifetime Achievement Award; among his many wonderful books are three Coretta Scott King winners: Beat the Story Drum, Pum-Pum (1981); Beautiful Blackbird (2004); and Let It Shine: Three Favorite Spirituals (2008). He has won numerous Coretta Scoot King honor awards, as well. One of my own favorites is Ashley Bryan's ABC of African American Poetry. Bryan won the 2009 Laura Ingalls Wilder Medal for his contributions to children's literature. The illustrator uses bold, bright colors with strong lines and shapes.

R. Gregory Christie—Christie won Coretta Scott King honor awards for his illustrations for The Palm of My Heart: Poetry by African American Children (1997), Only Passing Through: The Story of Sojourner Truth (2001), and Brothers in Hope: The Story of the Lost Boys of Sudan (2006). My own favorite book he illustrated is Yesterday I Had the Blues by Jeron Ashford Frame (2008). Christie's style varies by the project, but his baseline voice as an illustrator merges flat shapes and blocks of color with more realistic facial expressions and other details. It's a little different, but it works. (Here's a trailer for his latest, It Jes' Happened: When Bill Traylor Started to Draw by Don Tate, due out in April.)

Bryan Collier—This artist is the Caldecott Honor and Coretta Scott King illustration winner for Dave the Potter: Artist, Poet, Slave (2011); Coretta Scott King winner and Caldecott honor for Rosa (2006), and Coretta Scott King winner for Uptown (2001). He has won Coretta Scott King honors for other books, too, including one about Langston Hughes, Visiting Langston (2005). Collier's work has a rich, smooth realism, often with a dark palette.

Leo and Diane Dillon—He's black, she's white, and this husband-and-wife team have been winning illustration awards throughout a 40-year career, including back-to-back Caldecott wins in 1977 and 1978 for Ashanti to Zulu: African Traditions and Why Mosquitoes Buzz in People's Ears, respectively. They've done a slew of book jackets in addition to their picture books. The Dillons won the 1997 Grand Masters Award for their body of work from Spectrum for being Best In Contemporary Fantastic Art, a Virginia Hamilton award for their body of work in children's literature in 2002, and a World Fantasy Convention Lifetime Achievement Award in 2008. They've actually won more body-of-work awards, but you get the picture: people are rightfully impressed! One of my favorite books from the Dillons is To Everything There Is a Season (1997), in which they use art styles from various countries and historical periods to illustrate the famous verses from Ecclesiastes in the Bible. I'm partial to a story called Wind Child, too. But there are just so many to choose from! Though the Dillons do experiment, you can usually recognize their distinctive style, which has a sort of airbrushed look to it. Their latest is Never Forgotten by Patricia C. McKissack.

Kadir Nelson—A talented author/illustrator, Nelson won the Coretta Scott King Award this year for writing for Heart and Soul: The Story of America and African Americans, and he won an Honor for the book's illustrations. As an illustrator, he won Caldecott honor awards in 2008 for Henry's Freedom Box and in 2007 for Moses: When Harriet Tubman Led Her People to Freedom; the latter book garnered Nelson a Coretta Scott King win. He has won further King awards and honors in both writing and illustration, e.g., for We Are the Ship: The Story of Negro League Baseball. Nelson's Moses is a wonderfully tender and inspiring book about Harriet Tubman. The illustrator's work is realistic, though slightly stylized. He tends to work with warm tones.

Jerry Pinkney—This 2011 Caldecott winner for The Lion and the Mouse had previously won five Caldecott honor awards and five Coretta Scott King awards, among other honors. Pinkney won a Virginia Hamilton lifetime achievement award in 2000 for his long, highly regarded career as a watercolor genius.

Brian Pinkney—Brian is Jerry Pinkney's son, and he specializes in scratchboard art; he won a Caldecott honor and a Coretta Scott King honor in 1996 for The Faithful Friend, as well as a Coretta Scott King honor award in 1993 for Sukey and the Mermaid and in 1999 for Duke Ellington: The Piano Prince and His Orchestra. The latter won a Caldecott honor award, too. Brian won the Coretta Scott King Award for illustration in 2000 for In the Time of the Drums.

At my day job, I am currently working on curriculum materials for a South Carolina state history book for eighth graders, and I included instructional activities relating to slavery. E.g., I'm having the kids read Julius Lester's To Be a Slave. I've also included an activity featuring Hill and Collier's book, Dave the Potter. I'm heading into the twentieth century soon, so we'll see what that brings. I may not be able to cover the Harlem Renaissance in a South Carolina book, but that won't stop me from thinking about Langston Hughes' wonderful voice, let alone about the artwork and writing in today's children's books that celebrates African American history and present-day experience.

Some people may find Black History Month a little scripted, but I think of all those kids of many races who, if they know nothing else, now understand a few things about Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, and Martin Luther King. And maybe even about George Washington Carver, Marion Anderson, Thurgood Marshall, Malcolm X, Maya Angelou, General Colin Powell, Toni Morrison, President Barack Obama—and always, please, Langston Hughes.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

A Review of Mama Says: A Book of Love for Mothers and Sons by Rob D. Walker and Leo and Diane Dillon

The more poetic type of concept book has lost ground in recent years. At a recent SCBWI conference I attended, it was clear that editors were hungry for action-packed, TV-esque plotting in children’s books. I’ve also heard it from my own editors: “This is lovely, but it’s not commercial enough.”

A concept picture book is centered around an idea rather than a plot. Or plot may be hinted at, but only because the concept conveys a certain degree of chronology or simply because pages are being turned. Alphabet books and books about colors or opposites are well-known examples, but the best concept books may be less obviously educational: take a look at Charles G. Shaw’s dreamy cloud book, It Looked Like Spilled Milk; Laura Vaccaro Seeger’s First the Egg; and Margaret Wise Brown’s The Important Book, for instance.

So what does it take to get a concept book published these days? Well, in the case of Mama Says: A Book of Love for Mothers and Sons, it takes the grand lions of illustration and a message the world seems to be in need of. Rob D. Walker is a fairly new author, but I hope you’ve heard of the formidable husband-and-wife illustration team, Leo and Diane Dillon.

Memorable concept books read like poems, and Mama Says is no exception. Each spread shows a different mother teaching her son, with her words presented as an unpunctuated seven-line poem. The lines are brief, as you’ll see in my favorite stanza:

Mama says
Embrace the moon
And marvel at the sun
Mama says
To study stars
And make a wish on one
This is about as specific as it gets, which isn’t what you want to see in poetry. Most of the stanzas sound like proverbs or the types of pat advice parents give their children, e.g., “Mama says/To put my heart/In everything I do.” But saying this does the book a disservice because Mama Says works better as a whole than in parts. One of the strongest messages of the book is that we live in a global community. Each spread represents a mother and son from a different part of the world, and each stanza is also given in translation from the corresponding language: Cherokee, Russian, Amharic, Japanese, Hindi, Inuktitut, Hebrew, English, Korean, Arabic, Quechua, and Danish (key at the back of the book). I also noticed that some of the messages seemed particularly relevant to the culture being depicted, another thoughtful aspect of the book, e.g., inner peace relating to meditation practices in India.

If the “showing” is not given in the words, it is provided in the illustrations, done in the Dillons’ signature soft-edged style. The idea of “sharing” sounds pretty vague, but it becomes clear as a Russian boy gives a loaf of bread he and his mother have just baked to an elderly man. The Japanese boy who is told to be true and put his heart in everything he does is shown in a smaller left-hand illustration confessing to having broken a vase, then repairing the vase with his mother’s help in the larger illustration on the facing page.

Good poems tend to conclude with a bang, and the last line of this book, in conjunction with the illustration, gets it right. The ending ties everything together with uncommon grace.

While I’m presenting Mama Says right now partly so you can think about ordering it as a Mother’s Day gift, I did wonder about the role of fathers and wish for a book like this for them, too.

There is more than one reference to God in Mama Says, which some readers might not relate to, but then again, the references are presented as being culture-specific and furthermore seem appropriate in a book about teaching children values in different countries. The mercenary, splintered, and combative nature of the modern world is a source of worry to many parents. Whether you’re religious or not, I believe you’ll find inspiration in this beautifully made book, Mama Says: A Book of Love for Mothers and Sons.

Because of the importance of Leo and Diane Dillon in the picture book world, I want to add a brief note about their other books. They are best known for winning back-to-back Caldecott medals, in 1976 for Why Mosquitoes Buzz in People’s Ears (author Verna Aardema) and in 1977 for Ashanti to Zulu: African Traditions (author Margaret Musgrove). They have won numerous other awards and created a lot of jacket art, along with many picture books. Recent books include Jazz on a Saturday Night (a Coretta Scott King Honor Book), Mother Goose Numbers on the Loose, The People Could Fly: The Picture Book (also a Coretta Scott King Honor Book), Earth Mother, and Whirlwind Is a Spirit Dancing. My personal favorites are out of print: two books by poet Nancy Willard—Pish, Posh Said Hieronymous Bosch and The Sorcerer’s Apprentice—and Wind Child by Shirley Rousseau Murphy.

But the most gorgeous book by the Dillons, which is still in print, is their rendition of To Every Thing There Is a Season, the famous verses from Ecclesiastes. A precursor to Mama Says in terms of both design and the theme of universal human truths, the book uses a different culture to represent each couplet, yet each spread is done in a different art style, from different periods of time (with a key at the back). If you don’t own this book, you should. It’s a real showpiece, one of my picture book treasures.

Note for Worried Parents: Mama Says includes one scene where a child’s dead male relative, presumably his father, is shown. The image is presented in the context of Hindu burial customs and is perfectly tender, but I realize some of you may shy away from the book for this reason.