Interdisciplinary artist and illustrator Lilli Carré‘s “Moving Drawings” are simple and abstract and capture, in looped form, the surreal whimsicality to be found in her comic illustrations and animations. Based in Chicago, Carré has created several comic books and is a co-founder – along with her animator husband, Alexander Stewart – of the Eyeworks Festival of Experimental Animation. Carré’s animations are playful, evocative of childhood, and deal with themes of mundanity and transformation. Aware of the way animated gifs command attention and provoke feelings of delight and curiosity, of her gifs, Carré says, “They help me get little images in my head — like a woman incessantly eating flowers — out of my mind and into moving forms. They don’t have to be part of bigger projects; they can just exist on their own and live forever on the Internet. They’re like little breaths of fresh air.” You can find a collection of Carré’s animated films over on Vimeo. (via juxtapoz)
Believe it or not, the tiniest comic strip in history has recently been drawn onto a single stand of human hair. The comic, titled “Juana Knits the Planet,” was initially mapped by the artist Claudia Puhlfürst; later, it was burned into a plucked stand with an ion beam, which is in essence a delicate and thin version of a laser beam. The narrative follows a girl (Juana) through twelve twenty-five micrometer frames, and the artwork is a promotion for a Do-It-Yourself conference in Hamburg, Germany called the Exceptional Hardware Software Meeting.
Purfürst’s illustration is a touching wordless story about about a lonesome little girl who seems to exist within a vacuum of a blank comic book frame; that is, until a ball of yarn rolls to her feet. From the thread, she creates a paintbrush, painting trees and music into existence. Ultimately, Juana writes code and builds herself her very first friend: an adorable robot. This parable of human growth and ingenuity is made all the more delightful for being engraved onto a strand of hair; the story of technological expansion returns, ultimately, to the human head, the site of its conception.
In this video, we can discover the astounding scale of the little comic. Strands of human hair are composed of hard proteins; the outer layer, or the cuticle, contains scales that form curves and ridges, and yet the frames of “Juana Knits the Planet” are perfectly straight and meticulously rendered. It’s pretty mind-blowing; take a look. (via HuffPost and Lost at E Minor)
French illustrator Marion Fayolle‘s illustrations are light-heartedly simple and provocative. Maria Popova appropriately compares Fayolle’s aesthetic to Codex Seraphinianus, Gregory Blackstock’s illustrated lists, and the vignettes of Blexbolex, but I think there’s also some similar absurdism to be found in Joan Cornellà as well. Fayolle’s illustrations are visually comic poetry, each one representing a surreal and nuanced narrative. Bodies and body parts are often replaced, removed, or erotically recontextualized, something that could be jarring to viewers, but Fayolle’s whimsical aesthetic undermines any potential grotesqueness of this concept. Though her work is playful, the tension between humor, longing, lust, loss, and separation is palpable and creates a space for the viewer to revel in the narrative possibilities in each illustration. It’s the fragmentation of these narratives that connects them, allowing for a cohesion of and engagement with particular themes. Fayolle published a book of her comic illustrations, called “In Pieces,” last September. (via brain pickings)
Ralph Pugay‘ is a Portland artist who makes awesome, lighthearted paintings. His colors and content is all comic, but his style reminds me of a combination of Waldo and Pieter Bruegel–a million things going on with lots of different characters all in one big flattened space. One of the thing i love about this, Waldo, and Pieter, is that you can spend a whole afternoon staring at and finding new, funny things in them. Confused hunters, dancing office workers, spiritual gymnasts; I can’t get enough. Check out the rest after the jump, then go look at the other 42 on his website!
Stephen Mattheu Booth knows how to make a character worth remembering. I can’t say exactly what it is I enjoy about his characters, but they all just seem like they would be awesome to hang around with, and even his abstractions retain this figurative charm. I’ve always had an appreciation for this manner of art in which one can imagine the artist making these awesome drawings on a couch, or in bed, or at a bar, all without having to go to a studio and worshiping an easel, or using some computer tool to clean up his lines. It just feels right. And fortunately, he doesn’t draw fan artish mutated forms of Spongebob or Mickey Mouse, but instead, his work seems to sprout (growth being important here) from characters like Slimer, Donald Duck, Pluto, and other childhood favorites. How could you look at that #[email protected]*☁ duck and not smile?