Little Striped Books part 1

The idea of illustrating a children's book has always appealed to me. So you can imagine I was very pleased indeed I was given the opportunity to illustrate the book Kamelenkind (Camel Child), written by Emma van Andel.


The book is part of a series called De Gestreepte Boekjes (Little Striped Books) and is published by Pica Educatief bv.
The parents of Dutch children can subscribe to De Gestreepte Boekjes. Once subscribed the parents (or rather their children) receive two books every month. One of the books is part of regular series about Borre, a character created by the writer Jeroen Aalbers and illustrator Stefan Tijs. The other book has a different writer and illustrator each month. Books can also be bought seperately by ordering them on the website of De Gestreepte Boekjes

Although illustrating a children's book every month - like Stefan Tijs has to do - might be a little bit too much of a good thing, I've enjoyed illustrating Kamelenkind ever so much. The book is made for children aged nine to ten (classified as Group 6 in the Netherlands). It's rather an adventurous book. The story is about the girl Jen and her father Tattoe (nicknamed that way because of his tattoos) who are leaving for Akkamassa in the Sahara to start up a camel rental company. A very unfortunate business while camel thieves are also hanging about . . . . .
Well, I won't tell too much of the story. I wouldn't like to spoil the fun for those who like to read the book themselves. For that same reason I won't show too many illustrations from the book. Just enough to make you - I hope - curious for more.


What I would like to do, is to tell you something about the making of the illustrations. Several times I've noticed that some people don't realize how an illustration is made and how much work is involved. One might think that I just take a sheet of white paper, draw some lines on it , add some colour and Bob's your uncle! Or one might even think that all my drawings are made with only the use of a computer (and what could be easier than that?). Nothing of the sort, I can assure you. It may look as if my illustrations are done with much ease, but appearances can be deceptive.

To show you the process of how an illustration is made, I will use the first illustration of the book as an example.
First of all I make a very small and rough sketch, just to see for myself what the main elements of the picture will be and what kind of composition I would like to use. In this particular case the first sketch is the actual size of the illustration that is going to be used in the book.


The next sketch is still very rough, but this time I try to fill in some of the details. I haven't figured out yet what the characters will look like. I give it a first attempt, but at this stage it's not the most important thing. This sketch is mainly to figure out what the posture of Jen's father will be. The first chapter of the book mentions the tattoo on his left upper arm. Of all the tattoos on Tattoe's body, this is the only one that is set out in detail. It's a significant tattoo, because it represents the bond between Tattoe, Jen and her mother who died when she was born. However, it's also mentioned that Tattoe enthusiastically spreads his arms when he tells Jen of his camel rental plan. This is the most essential scene in this chapter, but with Tattoe's arms spread out, the tattoo on his left upper arm is out of focus. So I'll have to make a choice.


After making this rough sketch in which Tattoe's tattoo is visible, I decide it's better to choose for the other option, because I think the contrast between Tattoe's keenness and Jen's scepticism is ever so characteristic for this chapter.
I also decide to adjust the perspective of the table so it's easier to distinguish the different objects on the breakfast table.


The basic construction is now good enough to be worked out in a more detailed sketch. With the use of a light box I make a mirrored image of the sketch. By doing so, I get a different view on what I've drawn. This way it's easier to spot little slip ups, such as a limb that's longer or shorter than the other one, or an unintentionallly askew face.
I read about this little trick in a book about the life and works of none other than the grandmaster of comics, Hergé. It was many, many years ago that I read this book, but I've been using this trick ever since. If a light box is not at hand, one can also hold the sketch before a mirror or even hold the sketch upside down to achieve the same effect.


I'm already quite pleased with the looks of Jen. Tattoe however, is not to my liking at all. So for the moment I put this sketch aside and draw my attention to his looks. In attempt to find a visual image suitable for Jen's father, I make quite a few scribbles. Some of those scribbles look rather stupid, don't they? But bare in mind that you've got to draw a lot of wrong lines in order to find the right ones. That's what sketching is all about.


In this sketched search for the right features for Tattoe, I finally find the lines that meet with my approval. Now that I've got more or less figured out what I want the illustration to look like, I can make a final sketch in detail.


Before I start to ink, I transfer the sketch to paper with a very smooth surface. Ink runs out on paper which hasn't got a smooth surface. Don't like that at all! But a smooth surface only isn't enough. You'll also need a brush with a sharp point in order to get a nice sharp line. I prefer to work with brush and Indian ink. A brush no.2 or no.3 - preferably one made with marten hair - will do the the trick. But Indian ink is quite aggressive and the brush will only last a couple of drawings. By then it has lost too many hairs to draw another decent line. Sometimes I use a brush pen. The point of a brush pen always stays sharp. However, the ink of a brush pen doesn't dry as quickly as Indian ink. It takes up to 24 hours to dry when used on a smooth surface! I always get smudges on my drawing whilst working with a brush pen, because my hand had accidentally touched an already inked part.
Of course all those smudges have to be retouched. I do a lot of retouching anyhow. Although I'm quite experienced with the use of brush and ink, my brush still slips every now and then. Like I wrote before, I like my lines sharp. So sloppy lines won't do at all!
I used to touch up my lines with Schmincke Dekweiss, the only paint that does that job well enough in my experience. But my local art supply dealer doesn't sell that brand anymore and ever since I make use of digital resources, it's just as easy to do the retouching on my computer.


Now that the inking is done, the next step will be to make a scan of the line drawing. There's still some work to be done before I can fill in the colours. I'll have to touch up the lines and I'll have to adjust Tattoe's tattoos, because I don't want black outlines there. The same goes for the cow and clouds on the milk carton. And of course I need a background. For the illustrations of this book I thought it would be nice to have a background with a rough edge. To achieve this effect I use watercolour paper with a very rough surface and a rather dry brush.
With this background and all the adjustments made, I can finally do the colouring of the illustration.


Although not bad for a first attempt, I'm not quite pleased with these colours. The dominant colour blue in this illustration gives it a rather cold feeling. That doesn't seem right. A warm, domesticated feeling seems much more in place for this scene. So I add a little yellow to the colours to give this illustration a little more warmth.


There, that's much better! This is how the illustration is published in Kamelenkind. Well, it took a lot of steps to come to this end result, now didn't it?
Some of you might have identified the - simplified - logo of the Ramones on Tattoe's T-shirt. I don't think that's something that today's children will immediately recognize, but I love to put such clues - or maybe a little homage might even be a better word - in an illustration if the oppurtunity arises. It's not unthinkable at all that some of these youngsters will discover many years from now what the emblem on the T-shirt stands for. Call me a silly old fart if you like, but that thought certainly gives me a little bit of fun.

If you like the illustrations shown in this entry, you might like to know that I've made the illustrations for a second book, also part of De Gestreepte Boekjes series and also written by Emma van Andel. It's called De Bezoekers van Zirk (Visitors from Zirk). I will tell you more about that book a next time.

Michel Da Capo

After a few months hard work I finally found the time to write a new weblog entry. It's a bit harsh that I should start again with some rather sad news. But nevertheless I feel the need to write something about Michel "Da Capo" Terstegen, who passed away on July 4, 2011.

Michel is of course best known for his record shop in Utrecht, but that's not how I became acquainted with him in the first place. Michel was also a frequent visitor (if not deejaying himself) of many sixties themed parties. Parties which I, not quite coincidently, also like to go to. On those parties I got to know Michel as a very enthusiastic, kind and warm-hearted person. Despite his age - he's about five years older than me - he had always kept a boyish charm, which made his companionship very pleasant indeed. No need to tell you we always welcomed Michel with open arms.

But there's more to Michel. Michel was part of the mod revival movement in the late 1970s/early 1980s. I've always been a bit envious of that. Or should I say fascinated? I guess a bit of both. When I was 14 years old I saw the motion picture Quadrophenia. I was quite impressed by that movie and walking out of the cinema that night I decided I wanted to be a mod too. But there weren't any mods in Rotterdam at that time and I had no frame of reference at all, other than the movie. I didn't know where to buy the right clothes and I didn't know where to buy the music. It didn't help either that I was a very shy boy and nothing like the adventurous kind. So I kept on daydreaming and stayed just how I was, which was nothing outspoken really. A year later I learned that there was a mod scene in Utrecht, but I did nothing with that knowledge. Utrecht was just a step too far away for a shy boy like me.
The early 1980s also had its rockabilly revival. My friends at that time were much more attracted to that rather than this mod thing and so they became rockabillies. Well, you know what they say; if you can't beat them, join them. I have to say, I've enjoyed being part of a youth culture and I still like a good rockabilly tune, but my fascination for everything mod kept on itching. By 1986, at the age of 21, I became more self confident and a little bit more adventurous. Consequentially my preferences for mod clothing and music became more outspoken. I guess that in the end I became, although not planned as such, a mocker.

I can't exactly remember when I met Michel Da Capo for the first time, but it must have been somewhere around the mid-nineties. From the moment that I found out that Michel had been part of that legendary mod revival scene in Utrecht, I always kept on asking him questions about that period. Luckily Michel was always happy to tell about those days. Listening to his stories it somehow made up for the all the things I missed out on because of my lack of will power to become a mod in the late 70s.

The last time I spoke with Michel was on August 28, 2010. That night I was questioning him again about the ol' days. Somewhere during the conversation I blurted out that one of the reasons why I appreciated mods, was that they were always well mannered (I'm not referring to the beach riots of 1965 of course). "Well mannered!?" Michel replied, "Pieter, you couldn't be more wrong! We weren't well mannered at all!" He told me that from time to time, whilst hanging out, the Utrecht mods got rowdy. When the battle cry "Slooopuuuhh!" sounded, these angry young men started to demolish anything on their way, like running over and jumping on parked cars and more of that sort of thing. Now of course I don't approve of that sort of behavior, but I just adored hearing Michel telling about it with that mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
On top of that, it was my last conversation with him and because of that I will always treasure this story.

Michel passed away way too soon. He was still in the midst of life. Also he wasn't given much time to say goodbye to the life he enjoyed so much. Hardly half a year after he had heard the horrible news that he was suffering from stomach cancer Michel's body gave up. I didn't see Michel whilst he was sick. I didn't see the decline of his body. In my memory I still see him as lively and cheerful as ever and that image is very vivid.
I went to his funeral last Saturday. I listened to the farewell words of his beloved ones and somehow it felt that something didn't fit. Sure enough these words were all about Michel Da Capo, but I could not match the farewell outings with Michel who's still so very alive in my memory. I just couldn't imagine him being dead. "This can't be the same Michel I know", I thought to myself. "You'll see for sure, the next 60s party we're having, he'll come walking in just as he always used to do". I don't think this feeling will change. At every party we'll enjoy in the future Michel will be present. Probably over the years my common sense will make me see that it isn't possible anymore that he'll be there in the flesh, but then again, in spirit he will always be.

Aeroplanes

In this entry I would like to bring up a topic that has nothing to do with my work as an illustrator. It's about illustrations alright, but these kind of illustrations haven't influenced my own work at all. To be honest, I couldn't make these kind of illustrations even if I wanted to. I just haven't got the skill.
It's about aeroplanes too. I like pictures of aeroplanes, especially aeroplanes made approximately between 1910 and 1960. So this entry of my weblog is strictly for my own - and hopefully yours too - visual enjoyment.

I came up with the idea for this entry when my friend Frits Jonker send me a trading cards album. The album is called Wings of Speed, 50 years of air speed breakers and was produced in 1960 by J.Lyons & Company Limited, Cadby Hall, London W14. Maybe that doesn't ring a bell, but Lyons Tea surely will. One could collect the cards for this album by buying packets of this brand of tea. The album I got from Frits is almost complete, except for the very last card, which coincidentally pictures the very same aeroplane which is on the front of the cover, according to the underline.


The album contains some very beautiful pictures of streamlined aeroplanes. The name of the artist is not credited in the album, but fortunately the artist was wise enough to sign the illustration on the cover. The style of the illustrations on the cards are very much alike to the one on the front cover, so one can safely assume that Mister Keane did all the colour illustrations in this album. I'm not sure about the black and white illustrations, but I wouldn't be surprised at all if he did those as well.
The lay-out of the pages is done with great taste and the handlettering is first rate. (click on pictures to enlarge)



As you well can imagine, J.Lyons & Company Limited weren't the only ones who made trading cards with pictures of aeroplanes. In my collection of scraps of old paper are some trading cards which were manufactured by Lubro Beschuit, a Dutch company that made beschuit (Dutch rusk) somewhere in the mid-twentieth century. Alas, I only have a couple of Lubro Beschuit cards. I don't have the accompanying album Wat is dat voor een vliegtuig? (what kind of aeroplane is that?). So you'll have to do with just these few cards.


I really don't know much about the picture you'll see below. I bought this sheet with pictures of aircrafts in the 1980s along with four other sheets with the same topic, as well as some others with pictures of animals. I always thought that these picture sheets were reproductions, because they were absolutely mint when I bought them. The shop had quite a stock too. But besides that, nothing really indicates that they're reproductions. Everything about them looks authentic. The pictures are even embossed! That's quite an expensive way to make reproductions. So whilst preparing this blog I started to think maybe they're not reproductions at all, but old stock. I know, it sounds too good to be true. But then again, the 1980s were marvellous times for buying the most incredible vintage stuff from the mid-twentieth century for almost nothing. So maybe I'm right, or maybe I'm wrong. I guess I'll never know.


You might wonder with what purpose these colour prints where manufactured. I'm afraid I don't know that either. The only clues to be found on the prints are a small logo and that they were made in England. The logo reads "MLP", but that's not much to go on. Some of the colour prints have the logo of Toffee Crefin, a Belgian candy manufacturer, on the back. So maybe these pictures were intended to be given away for free with the purchase of a Toffee Trefin product, just like the Lyons and Lubro trading cards.


I don't know if Toffee Crefin also produced paste-in albums for these pictures. I couldn't find anything that would indicate they did. There are a lot of questions unanswered for, but that doesn't spoil the beauty of the pictures themselves at all!

Beautiful pictures of aeroplanes are of course not only to be found on trading cards or similar prints, but also in books. I do love the children's book Airplanes, which is part of the famous Little Golden Books series.


The book is written Ruth Mabee Lachman and the illustrations are done by Steele Savage. Mind you, this is the 1959 edition in which the pictures of the aeroplanes are updated to its time. The first edition was published in 1953 with illustrations by Lenora and Herbert Combes. Sadly enough I don't have that edition, so I can't make a comparison.


Another book with smashing illustrations is All About Aeroplanes. I bought this book whilst visiting Dear Old Blighty on a book market in Wells, Somerset. The book is written and illustrated by Galbraith O'Leary, who also made a wonderful book about British trains, titled British Trains. All About Airplanes is published by The Heirloom Library, London.


The book is undated, but looking at the jet fighters, I would guess it was published somewhere between 1952 and 1957.


To conclude this entry I would like to show you this lovely jigsaw puzzle I got from my Australian friend Miike ( no misspelling there, that's how he writes his name). The jigsaw came without a box, so not a clue to any manufacturer or date. The only clue to its origin is in the abbreviation TAA, which stands for Trans Australian Airlines. But since I got this present from an Australian friend, that was already quite obvious.


Of course these are just a few pictures from my collection. It's not my intention at all to give you a complete conspectus of illustrated aeroplanes. I just wanted to show you some pictures I get enthousiastic about. I hope you've enjoyed them too.

Nu-Vue playing cards

One of my favourite pastimes is to scour flea markets, thrift-, junk- and charity shops. In itself nothing special. I don't think I exaggerate if I would say that millions of people have the same hobby as I do. With all that competition it makes it hard to find anything that's a little bit interesting and somehow it always seems that someone else has the greatest finds instead of me. It's just my envy as I darn well know. Not really a virtue of mine I'm proud of, to say the least.
However, sometimes I do get lucky and find something that I'm really pleased with. Like this set of playing cards I found in a recycle shop last year.


I was immediately attracted by the TWA logo on the back of the pack. I'm very fond of anything connected with airline companies in relation to the mid-twentieth century, you must know. Although the logo of the company is printed on the back of every card, Trans World Airlines is not the manufacturer. These Nu-Vue playing cards, as they are called, were made by Brown & Bigelow, a division of the Standard Packaging Corporation, Minnesota, U.S.A.
Brown & Bigelow licensed the use of the Nu-Vue playing cards to other companies. As far as I could find out, Penguin Cleaners and the Desert Inn and Country Club, Las Vegas also made use of the services of Brown & Bigelow.
It's not easy to find an exact year as to when these cards were first published. The most vague estimation I could find was somewhere in the 1950s - 1970s. The most specific date was 1964, but I'm not sure if that refers to the year of publication of the TWA edition or maybe another company or the real first publication of the Nu-Vue playing cards.

The pictures on the Nu-Vue playing cards are of sheer elegance and nothing like a standard set. The name of the maker of these beautiful designs is nowhere to be found on this product and I think that's a bloody shame!


You may have noticed the cryptical slogan on the package in the first picture: "the modern eye-saving concept in playing cards". This sentence may have puzzled you as much as it did me. The pictures on the cards are a bit stretched and compressed, which gives them quite some elegancy, as I have mentioned before. Looking at the ace of spades below, you can see this even more clearly. But what I don't see, is how this can be in any way "eye-saving". I can hardly imagine that stretching and compressing the pictures can result in saving one's eyesight. On the other hand, this might be exactly what Nu-Vue tried to accomplish. I guess the answer to that will always remain a mystery.


Here's some other puzzling information that can be found on the carton of the Nu-Vue playing cards:


One wonders if it's even possible to make playing cards germ-proofed, but on top of that, what could ever be the use of doing such a thing!?! Germs are almost everywhere! Unless you're intending to play a game of cards in a operating room, I really don't see what good it will do having germ-proofed cards. It all sounds a bit like poppycock to me!
Not that I mind. On the contrary, enigmatical statements such as the eye saving bit and the germs-proof thing makes this set of playing cards ever so much more precious to me!

Back to the pictures on the cards; they were most certainly a source of inspiration to me whilst making a logo for a webshop. Although I did not copy the unknown artist's style to the letter, the influences are obvious.


It seems only right to give the anonymous maker the credits he or she deserves, but most of all I would like to thank Mister, Miss or Mrs. "X" for making the world just a little bit prettier with this beautiful set of playing cards.

The Dollhouse View

Yesterday was the 5th of December. That's the day that the Dutch people celebrate Sinterklaas (Or Sint Nicolaas, but that's a rather old fashioned name). In the evening families and friends gather around to treat themselves to hot cocoa and Dutch dainties such as speculaas, boterletter, marsepein and pepernoten. Meanwhile they wait in great expectation for a visit of Sinterklaas and Zwarte Piet to bring them presents. An alternative way to spend the evening is to give each other surprises (Dutch pronunciation: sur-pree-sus).
A surprise is a selfmade object with a hidden present inside. An all time favourite to give as a surprise is a modified ontbijtkoek, another Dutch delicacy. An ontbijtkoek is a kind of dark brown cake. To transform the ontbijtkoek into a surprise, you have to make an incision in the cake and put your present inside. Please make sure that your present isn't any bigger than the cake itself and is well wrapped in plastic to make this surprise a success. The next step is to moisturize the cake and mould it untill you'll have a long cylindrical shape. Because of the dark brown colour of the ontbijtkoek, it will look just like a gigantic turd. It's also very sticky because of the syrup that's used in the ingredients.
The lucky person who gets this surprise has to grab into this sticky moist turd with bare hands, in order to get the present out.
There's Dutch humour for you!

But I'm digressing. It was not my intention to write about silly Dutch customs. Still, to make it understandable for the non-Dutch readers of this weblog what the illustration below is all about, I have to tell you something more about Sinterklaas. I assume that most of you have at least heard of this white-bearded bloke dressed up as a bishop and might even have noticed some remarkable similarities with that other ditto-bearded chap named Santa Claus. However, there are some significant differences.
Like Santa Claus, Sinterklaas has his little helpers. Not elfs, but Zwarte Pieten. Santa Claus has his residence up the north pole, Sinterklaas lives in Spain. Each year, somewhere around the midst of November, he and his Zwarte Pieten travel to the lowlands by boat. In the night following on the day of their arrival, the Zwarte Pieten climb upon the roofs of the Dutch houses and lower themselves through the chimneys to deliver little presents for the children. Unlike Santa Claus, they don't put the presents in stockings that are hung upon the mantelshelf, but in the children's shoes that are standing before the stove. This ritual repeats itself on pakjesavond (presents' eve) on the 5th of December, but it's also possible that Sinterklaas will bring a personal visit, like I wrote above (well, that's the same with Santa Claus, isn't it?). Some children are blessed with a more frequent present delivery through the chimney, but that all depends on the financial status of the parents, really.
For transport Sinterklaas prefers to use a grey horse, rather than a reindeer sleigh. It is said that Sinterklaas also climbs upon the roofs with horse and all, but I don't believe he ever crawled through chimneys.

During their visit in the Netherlands, Sinterklaas and the Zwarte Pieten naturally have to find an accommodation to sleep, eat, drink and relax. So De Dubbelde Palmboom came up with the idea to lend their museum for that purpose (all fictional off course). Whilst Sinterklaas and his Zwarte Pieten are on the job, children can visit the museum to see the rooms where these do-gooders have layed out their bivouac. The museum had asked me to make an illustration of this, to be used for a poster and a postcard.
For this I chose to make use of what I like to call the dollhouse view. I don't know if this is common known term, but looking at the illustration below, you'll immediately understand what I mean with this phrase.


At the top left of the "dollhouse", you see the room where the Zwarte Pieten have found their shelter. Right next to it is the bedroom suite of Sinterklaas. Underneath the room of Sinterklaas you find the place where de Zwarte Pieten wrap up the presents for the children and practice their climbing skills. On the lower left side you see the stable for the horse of Sinterklaas.
On top of the building Zwarte Pieten are busy climbing the roofs. They carry the presents in big gunny sacks, very much like Santa Claus does.
The tree and moon on the left are a hint to the classic Sinterklaas carol Zie de maan schijnt door de bomen (See how the moon shines through the trees).

I do like to draw dollhouse views. Therefore it may not surprise you that this was not the first time I used this kind of composition. My first dollhouse view was published on the 28th of June 1997. It was an illustration for the Dutch newspaper Algemeen Dagblad. The subject was home education in the United States of America. It's a rather simple view with just one room, but I didn't need more rooms to illustrate what the story was about.


The next one was published on 2nd of October 2004 in the same newspaper. This time the story was about the rivalry between communication companies and KPN, a Dutch company which used to have a monopoly on communication.
Still just an one room view for the same reason as mentioned above.


Almost four years later (February 9, 2008) I made another dollhouse view, still for the same newspaper. This time it was a three room view. The illustration had to be about taxes you'll have to pay for almost everything. The blue-purple envelope is a bugaboo for Dutch citizens. It usually contains another assessment. When I look at this illustration, I always have to think of that song by the Fab Four: Taxman. Mind you, when Mister Harrison wrote this song, he had already earned more money than he could probably ever spend. It's a bit harsh that he should be the one to complain about taxes. Still a great song though!


Besides drawing dollhouse views, I also like to look at them.
Although I might have made up the phrase dollhouse view myself, I'm most certainly not the first one who made that kind of picture! Just look at this book made by the famous Richard Scarry (first published in 1964). Here's a man who really knew how to make a dollhouse view! If you also happen to have this book, please look at pages 10 and 11 (the Rabbit Family House). Alas, because of the size of the book it's not possible for me to scan this spread page, but - boy, oh, boy! - this must be the most superb dollhouse view I ever laid my eyes on!


Although not as outspoken as Richard Scarry, the front cover of Baby's House (first published 1950) made by the very talented Mary Blair should also be classified as a dollhouse view. The three visible rooms are rather small and Mary's approach is quite stylistic. On the other hand (probably not intented as such, but I wouldn't dare to claim that for a fact), looking at the proportions of Baby in comparison with the house, the building itself is - an enormous , true enough - doll house! Be it intended or not, the result is a beautiful picture indeed!


Sadly enough, these are the only two examples of dollhouse views I could find in my library. However, I know for sure there must be many, many other illustrations with this kind of view. If you would happen to know any that deserve to be brought to attention, please let me know. It would be my pleasure to dedicate another weblog to this phenomenon.

Batmobile part 2

I don't do as much work for Batmobile as I did in their heydays. Still, every now and then Batmobile still makes an appeal to my drawing skills, like the record sleeve I've made for the split album of Batmobile and Peter Pan Speedrock.


Most recently I made a design for a Batmobile bottle opener, which is for sale on the Batmobile Webshop.


Drummer Johnny Zuidhof, who's co-owner of the webshop, came up with the idea of this gadget when he had a look at the website of the Chinese company where he had previously ordered some custom made buttons and pins for Batmobile. He noticed that the company also manufactured bottle openers for ever so reasonable prices.
A sensible entrepreneur should be cautious about rash investments. You never know if a product will sell and you don't want to end up with an attic piled up with a dead stock of silly gadgets. However, with prices that affordable, Johnny thought is was worth a risk and so he asked me to fabricate something witty suitable for this bottle opener. As soon as I had finished my work, Johnny was ready to place his order with this company on the other end of the world. Luckily he was smart enough to double check on the manufacturing costs, but he still must have looked pretty blank when he got this reply:

"Sorry sir, prices on website not real prices. Prices on website are only to attract customers."

Unnecessary to say the deal was off. With a little effort Johnny was able to find another company on the internet (still Chinese though) that was willing to manufacture the Batmobile bottle opener - or Beermobile opener as Johnny prefers to call it - for a price more to his liking.

For those who don't like beer or any other refreshment that requires the use of a blottle opener; the character is also available on T-shirt as a three coloured silkscreen print.


Both items are obtainable on the Batmobile Webshop.

Buzzworks

Every now and then I'm asked to create a couple of buttons for the sympathetic one-man company Buzzworks. Early this year I've made a series of four buttons with deap sea fishes.


It's not the first time that I've used these peculiar animals as a source for inspiration, as you can see here.
Ever since my childhood years I have a keen interest in marine life, so that may explain my fascination with this topic a little bit.
I also do like to work in this decorative style, which I've been experimenting with now and then since my highschool graduation year in 1982, but on a more frequently basis and ever so more intensive since 1994. If you'll browse through the gallery of my website, you''ll come across more work I did in this manner. Like the cd cover of The Hills Are Alive with the Sound of Music and the Subzine cover or The Bremer Town Musicians and the Tropical Fish.
This particular style is rather influenced by the work of Juan Miró. One might even note a little twist of "De Stijl", although my use of swaggering lines would most certainly have induced utter repulsion upon the original Stijl artists.

The deep sea fishes on the buttons are extremely simplified and not realistic at all. Nevertheless, the ichthyologists among us will - without too much effort, I should think - recognize (from top to bottom): Photostomias guernei, Melanocetus cirrifer, Melanocetus johnsoni and Argyropelecus affinis.

Some years ago I also made a few other buttons for Buzzworks. They've nothing to do with fish, but might appeal to another intended audience.


A friend of mine, who's a great Tiki aficionado, had a remark about the Easter Island statue button. He pointed out that the name of such a statue was moai and not Aku Aku. The frase Aku Aku refers to the way the statues were supposedly moved, according to Thor Heyerdahl. He assumed that the moai were moved by swiveling them from side to side, very much like in a "walking" fashion. I must say, Mr. Heyerdahl sure gave the most beautiful exotic name for just some sort of movement! You'll have to remember that the next time you're trying to get your new washing machine into place using that same technique.
Besides that specific movement, Aku Aku could also mean a personal spritual guide. With that another funny thought occurs: if your personal spiritual guide is willing to co-operate, you could very well Aku Aku your Aku Aku. Just try to picture that!
Well, that's quite enough foolishness for now. Any which way you look at it, Aku Aku is very much entwined with Polynesian culture and with the moai indeed. On top of that, I think that the frase Aku Aku looks much nicer on a button, instead of just maoi. From a graphic point of view, that is.

All of the above buttons are available on www.buzzworks.nl
On this website you can find a lot of other buttons and goodies made by different artists, illustrators and graphic designers. I partically like these buttons made by Erik Kriek:


....and I'm quite charmed by this button made by Leendert Masselink. It could have been a trademark character of an orange juice softdrink from the mid-twentieth century, wouldn't you agree?


If you would like to purchase any of these buttons please visit the website of Buzzworks.
Even if not any of these buttons are to your liking, this site is still worth a visit, because the variety of artists is quite impressive and their styles differ ever so much. It's almost impossible not to find anything that'll suit your taste. And the prices are very affordable too!