The first panel of the fourth Mythical 9th Division book is coloured in. And we’re off to the moon!
You may not see me for a while. Only 50 pages to do…
Alex Milway - Official Website
Children's author, illustrator, screenwriter
by Alex
by Alex
I’ve been having a clearout and I uncovered a stash of rough illustrations for a new short story featuring Emiline and Portly. I wrote a bit of it, but I think yetis or some other work got in the way.
And so here it is, all messy and unfinished, but I thought you might like it.
Emiline stepped over the slippy rocks and slid down onto the narrow beach. The rain was easing and the dark grey clouds moving on.
‘I love summer,’ she muttered unimpressed, tightening her jacket.
She shook her shoulder-length blonde hair in an attempt to dry it, and let her pet mouse Portly out of his Mousebox. He ran up to her shoulder and stretched out tall, breathing the fresh sea air.
‘Not much of a day off, is it?’ she said, walking towards the sea. Portly squeaked happily in reply.
In amongst the large rocks that scattered the beach, the damp sand was deep brown and glistening, still soaked from the recent downpour and the retreating tide. Emiline paced around a pool of water, her footprints leaving shallow, crisp impressions behind her. To balance herself she clutched a tall cluster of rocks, some up to her waist in height. Portly suddenly leapt from her arm onto a rock and squeaked loudly. Emiline stopped, turning her head to see him sniffing the air.
Portly sniffed a few more times and then vanished behind the rock. Emiline leaned over and found her mouse sat on top of a large crate, built of wonky wooden planks. There was another crate alongside it, and Portly crawled slowly across both of them, his nose pressed to their surfaces.
Emiline noticed that one of the crates had the word ‘Mouse’ painted on its side in thick brushtrokes. She gasped in excitement, and as she did the crates started to squeak. There were mice inside…
…
If anyone wants to finish this story, please, feel free. I’d love to know what type of mouse was inside the boxes.
by Alex
I’ve spent the past few evenings attempting to recreate a Moomin illustration from Moominland Midwinter by Tove Jansson. This is part of my self-imposed study schedule of the greats of ink illustration, which has taken me from Tenniel to Peake. It’s probably my last of these for a while, but it’s definitely not the end. (There’s a reason for me doing all these, by the way, but I’m not going to explain for a while!)
Any way, the illustration I chose is a full-page plate, which is quite different from most of the Moomin illustrations. It’s possibly my favourite, and it’s the only one I can think of where the chiaroscuro lighting allows for the full 3D shape of Moomintroll to be described.
Once again I drew it in ink with a paintbrush, forcing myself to not make mistakes and do it without under-drawing. And crikey, what a lot I learnt. Starting with Moomintroll, the greatest lesson to be had is the direction of the pen marks, and the use of the highlights.
Tove Jansson was a master of using stark contrasts, and by leaving the band of white inside the outline, Moomintroll’s belly really pops out!
Another example of the line direction can be had in the window.
Again, the white is as important as the strokes, but the swirling effect of the lines brings out the beauty of the moonlit night. It also provides a contrast against the vertical strokes that colour the wall.
The method of shading the illustration is also of massive importance. There are some huge areas of pure black, and some huge areas of pure white. It’s a surprisingly brave thing to do, but never once do they take your attention away from the subject. The composition is perfect, as is the lighting.
And finally, the best thing that I’ve taken away from attempting to draw like Tove Jansson, is how time-consuming and patient you need to be to create work like this. I don’t know the size of the original, and it has a far better use and economy of line than mine, but the work involved in creating a piece like this is exceptional.
I admire Tove Jansson now more than ever!
by Alex
Anyone who’s ever met me will have heard me go on about Studio Ghibli. Watching Laputa was the one defining moment in my life that made me want to create stories. So, as you can guess, the appearance of a new Ghibli film always excites me.
Arrietty, based on the Borrowers, is a traditional Ghibli film in the nicest of ways. When Arrietty walks through the grass with a leaf held above her head, it felt like Totoro at its loveliest. The hunt for the sugar cube (was it just me, or was the fridge white noise the same noise as that in the airships in Laputa?) was as exciting and atmospheric as anything in Laputa or Princess Mononoke. And the artwork! Boy, the art is probably the best I’ve seen in any animation.
As for the story, it was lovely, even though the narrative drive and ending were unconvincing and unnecessary. I really didn’t understand why the housekeeper hated the Borrowers, which was the lynchpin of the film. But there we go, it’s never a great idea to question why things happen in a Ghibli film. They just do.
And then there’s the language issue. I watched a dubbed version, which is always a bad way of seeing a Ghibli film, but this one was okay. It was far better than most. I actually think Mark Strong was really trying to sound like a Ghibli character, which is a step forward in translating the pure Japan-ness of the films. And the fact that we got a British (no American actors) dub helped.
So where does it rank in all-time Ghibli films of note?
It’s not up there with a Miyazaki film, but I think it’s definitely a film from his stable. The elegant little details, and the three or four scenes of greatness show that Miyazaki’s influence is there in spades.
As for its standing amongst Ghibli films, I’d put it alongside The Cat Returns (which I like a lot, even if the ending is mental) and just below Kiki’s Delivery Service. So, a minor masterpiece that’s far better than most films out there. And it’s definitely one to see at the cinema.
by Alex
I’ve been practising my ink work of late by attempting to draw like my favourite illustrators. Mervyn Peake’s illustrations for the Hunting of the Snark are wonderful, and in many ways quite similar to Tenniel’s style.
Peake’s line work is a little looser, and without the prim Victorian aesthetic, as you’d expect. But it’s quite evident that they both love grotesque characters, and the stretching/squashing of human shape and form.
Any way, here’s my attempt at one of my favourite illustrations of his.
by Alex
I’m forever on a quest for artistic improvement, particularly where ink and drawing is concerned. I’m very much from a fine art background and tidy artwork doesn’t come easy. I don’t necessarily want to be tidy, but it’s nice to know how!
And so, with that in mind, I’ve been doing more ink work of late, looking at some old masters. Last night it was Tenniel’s turn, and I thought I’d have a pop at drawing like him in Alice mode. There’s no rough drawing underneath, it’s just pen straight onto the paper – the best way of learning.
Honestly, the moment I ditched pencils in my sketchbooks and turned to the permanence of pens was the moment I really started to improve and understand line work.
Any way, here’s my five of spades. (I should also add, I’ve now ditched pens and draw with a rigger paintbrush.)
by Alex
Over the coming few months I’m finishing off the 4th yeti book, and that means, you guessed it, I’m about to start something else. There are lots of projects I’d like to attempt, including umpteen potentially exciting stories sitting in my ideas folder, but today I feel a bit like this about all of them.
And while I’m here, there really is nothing like getting out a paintbrush and going crazy on a huge sheet of A1 paper with paint/ink.
by Alex