in all blogs
Viewing: Blog Posts Tagged with: Color, Most Recent at Top [Help]
Results 1 - 25 of 423
by Michael Arndt (Chronicle Books, 2014)
This book won me over when I saw it last year, and it’s one that is fun to peek into again and again. And how is that the case with something so simple, but so sophisticated? So spare, but so complex? That’s the best truth of design.
Here’s what’s happening. Each spread shows an animal and its sound. And each animal is mostly made up of the letters of that sound.
It’s a fun puzzle to unlock. The portraits are bold and saturated in color, often different than we’d see them in the wild.
But here they are, wild anyway.
I do love an animal book that goes beyond the usual suspects, don’t you? A mosquito! Not my favorite friend by any means, but he looks good and menacing here.
This small volume is a perfect primer on both typography and onomatopoeia.
And it’s got killer endpapers.
A portion of proceeds from Cat Says Meow goes to support animal rescue organizations, including the ones from where Michael’s dog (Clooney!) and cat (Aiden!) were rescued.
And for more type fun, play this kerning game and see how your eye stacks up to a designer’s. Or this one on letter forms, which is a bezier curve bonanza.
Would you like a signed copy? And these one of a kind bookmarks and vinyl stickers! You do, yes. Leave a comment here or share this post on Twitter before midnight on March 8st, PST. Good luck!
All images are © 2014 Michael Arndt. Thanks to the artist for sharing them (and an awesome giveaway!) here. And be sure to check out his Instagram if you love all things type, animal, and lovely. It’s a great one!
By: James Gurney,
Blog: Gurney Journey
(Login to Add to MyJacketFlap
, Add a tag
Joost van Dongen, lead programmer and co-founder of Ronimo Games, wrote me to say that my book Color and Light inspired him to create a digital tool for analyzing color schemes.
When he developed the geometric racing game Proun
(screenshots above), he was thinking about restricted color schemes, but his new tool let him see exactly what parts of the color spectrum were occupied by the colors he chose.
The blacked out areas of his diagrams represent the parts of the entire range of colors that are not included in a given color scheme.
He also used the tool to analyze screenshots from Awesomenauts
(below), a game that his art team developed.
Looking at the gamut maps, he says: "the colour scheme is all over the place. It really is an explosion of colour, as is fitting for the over-the-top Eighties themes of Awesomenauts. Nevertheless you can see that even in the top image the colour scheme ignores large parts of the colour wheel, so even there the colour usage is limited."
He used the tool to analyze the color gamuts on other games, including Uncharted 3, Star Control II, and Far Cry 4, above. The first is a narrow complementary gamut, the second uses high chroma primaries without neutrals, and the third is clustered around a fairly muted gamut near the gray center of the spectrum.
On his blog post
, he shares a link to download the tool for free so that you can try it yourself. Thanks for sharing, Joost.
by Philip Stead (Roaring Book Press, 2014)
This boy. This book.
We know Philip Stead can tell a story. Even his Number Five Bus interview series (with wife and creative partner Erin and ‘potentially interesting interactions with fellow book people’) is like a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a blanket.
Here’s what I love about this book.
That the copyright page tells us the art was made with pastels, oil paints, and pressed charcoal. Those things make your hands dirty and rub all the story off with it. There’s a feeling of grit there that I can’t quite figure out, but somehow these drawings feel loose and messy and full of both turbulence and elegance. The color is both rich and muted, deep and spare.
This red bird, that shows up on every single page. A constant companion to Sebastian’s wandering. A comfort.
That Philip Stead varies his compositions throughout, so that sometimes you are intimate with this cast, and sometimes you are pulling back for a wide shot of their world. That sometimes you are bobbing along with them and that sometimes you are floating free. That you feel the magnitude of this balloon trip, that you go with the wind too.
This leafless tree that gets the lumpiest-in-my-throat moment when it returns in glorious color. It was hard not to show you what I mean, but if you haven’t seen this part, then see this part. I won’t wreck the magic.
That the closest Sebastian comes to a smile is in sharing pickle sandwiches with his friends.
The way this milky gray fog is drawn. Moody and slightly scary and a barrier between the reader and the page. You can’t warn them about the pop because they couldn’t hear you through its thickness. They have to endure the danger.
That each character’s face is solemn and expressionless, but full of understanding. For each other, for pressing on, for seeing something. The tension there is the curiosity and the hope that they are finding comfort in their journey.
These sisters. Because.
This ramshackle roller coaster. Both “the most perfect roller coaster they would ever see” and chipped and faded and bent and broken and overrun with pigeons. And the pigeons, for where they go next.
That Sebastian thought to bring a boat and a ball of yarn.
And that I have a love/hate relationship with Caldecott speculation, but that big moon and patchwork balloon would look especially nice with a third round thing on the cover.
P.S. – Did I tell you about my spin on the Let’s Get Busy podcast with Matthew Winner and Kelly Light? That’s here if you want a listen. This book love guilt thing is no joke, because I keep thinking of other 2014 favorites that didn’t make our list, like this one. Huge thanks to book people for making great things. Don’t slow down. Also, here’s a super conversation between Philip and Jules at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast. More art! Not to miss.
A quick piece inspired by my attendance of Tosca this past weekend at the Seattle Opera. What a story!
by Yann and Gwendal Le Bec (Flying Eye Books, 2015)
I’m a big fan of Flying Eye Books. They put out a list that’s so unique and unusual and weird and beautiful. This guy comes out in April of this year, and I tend to not write about things before you can get them at your local bookstore or library, but I had to make an exception here. I’m eyeballing an upcoming dental appointment with cringing and gnashing of teeth. (Ha.)
But here’s a story that’s oddly comforting.
Danny’s expression is so full of joy and naiveté and hope, which is hilarious. A two-toothed hippopotamus antsy for a good scrub? Even funnier. And a school of cleaner fish to get the job done? Of course!
The setup here is so weird and wonderful.
Danny overhears the cleaner fish worry he may have a lisp, on account of that massive gap in his teeth. He doesn’t, of course, but that darn dentist fish’s comment spirals him into self-doubt and worry. The snakes he turns to for comfort do agree that he speaks strangely, but Danny doesn’t know they were a terrible choice for speech comparison.
To the city.
I love this spread. It reminds me of Richard Scarry or The Little House and this color palette is so perfect. The browns of the marsh yield to the yellows and oranges of the city. Danny looks comfortable up in that double decker bus but he’s obviously going to an unfamiliar place. Also, any book with a pink limousine can stick around for a while.
This lithe and lanky dentist gets right to work fitting Danny with some braces for that massive gap. (His office gear is so perfect here: funky wall art, oversized tooth models, and a bookshelf probably more for show than for reading.)
Now here’s a huge shift in pacing, in main character, and in drama. And it works. Danny settles back into marsh life, the snakes assure him his speech is back to better, and the crocodile heads off to the city for his own newfangled tooth-contraption.
It’s a picture book about the horrors of dentistry. And not really, of course, but for a dent-o-phobe like me, this story about a tooth doctor and his comeuppance is absurdly satisfying.
Danny is not without its translation quirks, but because the French are so bizarre anyway a clunk here or there is pas trop grove. (And since I Google Translated that, mine might be a bit clunky too. No matter.)
Look for Danny. You’ll smile. But maybe try that without showing your teeth.
Available April 2015. I received a review copy from the publisher, but all thoughts are my own.
Blog reader Walt Morton, asks:
"Did Howard Pyle teach or endorse a particular palette of colors? He was so methodical and analytical, I believe he had an ideal palette underlying his methods.
Yet I find no printed evidence."
Offhand I didn't know the answer, so I reached out to my lifelines.
"It is my understanding that Pyle's emphasis was always on values, and color was of secondary consideration. [Harvey] Dunn said that Pyle 'preached tonal values 24-7' and had a very negative view of his own abilities with color. In fact Dunn reported that Pyle claimed he didn't really understand color at all. Given the many beautiful pictures in color by Pyle, we may take this anecdote with a grain of salt... something Dunn said which was designed more to drive home to his own students the preeminence of values in picture making.
"Regarding actual palette set up, Harvey Dunn said that Pyle taught his students to 'Keep shadows and light absolutely separate both on palette and on picture.' Dunn elaborated elsewhere: 'Keep light colors and shadow colors separate on palette, shadow colors on left, leaving a division between, and then light colors on the right.'"
Ian Schoenherr, author of the Howard Pyle blog
|Howard Pyle, The Dancer, 1899|
"I have almost nothing to add to what Kevin said. In my transcribed records, there’s little mention of the specific pigments Pyle used.
"However, in a letter Gertrude Brincklé wrote from Italy on March 12, 1911, she said: 'Mr. Pyle colored a print of Holbein’s ‘Richard Southwell’ for me - not just tinting, [but] modeling with water colors, white, vermillion, cerulean blue, thick colors.'
"And two observers assumed that Pyle added vermillion to his black and whites (starting in the early/mid 1890s). Likewise, an 1897 news item said, 'He even uses color sparingly where that will add to the ‘value’ of his scheme. Black and red is his favorite combination, with the introduction now and then of blue and yellow.'"
Like Kevin said, there are a few photos of Pyle with palette in hand - and I think only one (from early 1899 - above) shows the paint side - but that doesn’t help much.
by Connah Brecon (Philomel, 2014)
I fell hard for this book. Heart-itching, squeal-worthy, big time bulging-eyeballs-love.
The title is perfect, right? An ode to the impossibility of putting all of the teensy intricacies of a crush into words.
A girl. A hunt. But she doesn’t really know how to grasp this thing.
Because it’s all . . .
and . . .
Picture sparkles streaming out of a bottle and a warm kitty snuggle. Impossible for words. Only colorful bursts of feeling.
(click to enlarge)
I love her green dress/red hair combo. Strong complementary colors for a stronger girl. She says she’s not brave, but she’s doing just the opposite.
She leaves a trail of crumbs. Sets a trap. And waits.
It doesn’t work.
(click to enlarge)
(click to enlarge)
Good question, little girl. (I love that her love parade is marching down Hope Street.)
So when the rain drips down the sign and the marching band has marched on, she is sad. So sad.
I really want to share my heart but I just can’t find the right way to open it.
The thing is, she had. She did. This whole time. And that’s worth a bang-up ending. You’ll see.
Here’s a fun look at Connah and his creative process, and if you haven’t given the Let’s Get Busy podcast yet, start here.
This is a perfect thing for any Valentine of your very own.
View Next 25 Posts
A cutesy piece for my kiddo's preschool fundraiser.