Sunday, October 10, 2010

René Castillo



I thought I should post something on this auspicious day of 10/10/10, after all, this kind of thing only occurs twelve times every one thousand years. Today my husband and I spent an enjoyable day in the canyon, taking photographs of the turning foliage, my favorite autumn activity.





Along with the turning leaves comes Halloween, and shortly thereafter, The Day of the Dead, the lively Mexican celebration where the worlds of the living and dead collide for one night. I thought to pay homage I would feature a Mexican animator I recently discovered whose style is reminiscent of dancing skeletons, sugar skulls, and Tim Burtonesque aesthetics.




I first saw René Castillo's film, Hasta los Huesos (Down To the Bone, 2001) on You Tube, that great democratizing force for art. It's an 11 minute short about a man who finds himself being buried alive in a coffin (a common fear for many people), and then winds up in a moody, underworld lounge filled with dancing, singing, and drunken skeletons. Please enjoy the film.





There were a lot of original lyrics left out of the film, but here is my translation of the lyrics from the song performed by the Catrina, Eugenia León:


LA LLORONA / THE WEEPING WOMAN

No sé que tienen las flores llorona, las flores del campo santo
(I don't know what it is about those weeping flowers, those flowers in the sacred field)
Que cuando las mueve el viento llorona, parece que están llorando
(But when the wailing wind blows through them they seem to cry)
Ay de mí llorona, llorona (...something inaudible)
(Oh, my weeping woman...)
Aunque vive el cuerpo dolor lo dejaré de quererte
(even though a body of pain still lives, I will stop loving you)
Aunque el dolor me cueste llorando dejaré de quererte
(even though the pain of crying is great, I will stop loving you)
Dos besos llevo en el alma llorona que no se apartan de mí
(Two kisses which will never leave me, I carry in my weeping soul)
El último a de mi madre llorona y el primero que te dí
(My mother's final day of weeping was the first day I gave to you)


My guess is the man running from the hungry worm is symbolic of our own reluctance to accept death as a natural part of the life cycle, and the Catrina is Death trying to console him. She reminds him that life is painful and miserable, and death is a release that should not be feared. In the end the man finally relents, gives his mourning flower to her to put in her hat, and then consumes the alcohol & worm that will eventually consume him.



Up on the surface an aged worm crawls by slowly, one who has probably aided in the decomposition of many bodies during his time. A young boy riding in the cemetery drags the worm from behind his tricycle, and then callously squashes him, making the cycle all that more complete. Whether by the slow hand of time, or the cruel hand of fate, death comes to us all, the consumers and the consumed.



Castillo's style and quality of claymation is very professional, it almost reminds me of the short-lived Fox series, The PJ's.


Most of all, his character animation is very convincing. We can feel the fear of the sweating man in his newly found predicament, and we can sense the character of the Catrina even though she has no eyes nor "face"; all of this he acheives without a word being spoken (other than the song, of course), which makes it a great film for crossing language barriers.


As you watched the film you probably couldn't help but notice a resemblance to Tim Burton's The Corpse Bride (2005), released 4 years after Hasta los Huesos. I wonder if Burton or his crew ever saw this animation? It's hard to say who inspired who since The Nightmare Before Christmas came out in 1992, so I think they probably simultaneously inspired each other's work.



There is not much written about Castillo other than since 1996 he has directed short films, produced animated TV commercials, and taught workshops on animation. He co-wrote and co-directed the animated short Sin Sosten, which screened at Cannes and received numerous national and international awards, and Hasta los Huesos premiered at the Annecy Animation Film Festival and screened in festivals in Mexico and abroad, including Huesca, Toronto, and Biarritz. The film received an Ariel Award, among other honors. Castillo studied communications at the Instituto Technologico and Estudios Superiores de Occidente (ITESO) in Guadalajara.


The next film I will review is Castillo's short, Sin Sosten (No Support, 1998), which he made prior to Hasta los Huesos. Unfortunately I can only review two of Castillo's films because his others (Ojo por Ojo (1995), Oye (1994), and Guitamorfosis (1992)) do not seem to be available for viewing anywhere on the web. Please enjoy the 5 minute short.


There's that twisted sense of humor again. I guess in the end the man had plenty of support, eh? He he. Not enough for him to go on apparently. Oh well, at least he died happy.


I've seen some other animations from Mexican artists as well and they often choose death/suicide as a theme. I suppose it's their way of expressing the underlying anxieties many of their people experience, particularly those who must deal with a strenuous life of unfair working conditions and a turbulent political atmosphere.

Art often puts a mirror up to society, so what is this film trying to tell us? I'm sure the billboards of beautiful white people have something to do with it. An anti-Imperialist-propaganda message perhaps? A comment on the false hope portrayed in the media? Maybe it's much simpler than that.


Regardless, I am grateful I found some of Castillo's work. It's refreshing to see the talent offered by other countries and I hope we can all be exposed more often to it in the future.

~S

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Kinuko Y. Craft



Early this morning we had a bright and full harvest moon, and on the first day of autumn!


I thought to commemorate the moment I would post on an illustrator I admire whose paintings often depict delicate branches of gold glowing leaves, and twinkling moonlit skies.




Are they not glorious scenes to behold? I first fell in love with Kinuko Y. Craft's work as a young girl; The Twelve Dancing Princesses was the name of the book, and I would check it out from the library as often as I could.




Craft's images are other-worldy and her subjects angelic. As a girl I would stare for hours trying to absorb every tiny, exquisite detail. They transported me to a another realm filled with magic and perfection.



Later, I obsessed over Craft's other illustrated books: Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Pegasus.





Born in Japan in 1940, Craft graduated with her BFA from the Kanazawa College of Art, and then moved to the United States in 1964 where she continued studying at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago.


She continues to live and work in the United States today, and since the mid-'90s has been illustrator for children’s books, fantasy book jackets and posters. Her art has also been licensed on calendars, posters, greeting cards, and other consumer goods.


Craft has received numerous awards for her work, including several gold and silver medals from The Society of Illustrators in New York, and has collaborated with many authors including her husband, Mahlon F. Craft, whom she met while attending school in Chicago, and her daughter, Marie Charlotte Craft, who now resides in Edinburgh, Scotland. How richly diverse a family they are.


Her paintings are done with a combination of oils and watercolor on clay board gesso panels. Craft draws on her love of fine art and art history in creating her work, especially in taking inspiration from Leonardo Da Vinci, the Pre-Raphaelites and Symbolist painters.


I mentioned two posts earlier how much Craft's charming style reminded me of the delicate and flowery paintings of Pre-Raphaelite painter, Frank Bernard Dicksee. Well, here's the proof.

Dicksee

Craft

Dicksee

Craft

Craft's versions are much softer and more luminous than Dicksee's, however, and her gowns and hairstyles have a gravity-defying volume that add to their fairy-tale mystique.


Renaissance art also seems to be a major inspiration for Craft...

Unknown Venetian
Artist,(1525)

Craft

George Gower (1588)
The Armada Portrait

Craft
...as well as portraits of famous 18th and 19th Century Queens. :)


Martin Van Meytens (1767-68)
Marie Antoinette the Younger

Craft

Queen Victoria (1842)

Craft

In an age saturated with vector art, flash animations, photoshopped images, and other digital media, it's refreshing to sit down with a classic children's book that can be admired for its beauty and handcrafted skill. Craft's work will continue to stand out for its style, sublime detail, elegance, technical prowess, and for helping children today appreciate the aesthetics of times long past. Her images bring us all one step closer to realizing the visions hiding deep within our imaginations.

~S