(Mon) Art Nouveau

Book cover design for Charles Beaudelaire's ‘Les Fleurs du Mal’

I have loved experimenting with my typographic illustrations so far. The swooping and swirling text style is based on my own handwriting – an exuberant version of it – so it has come quite naturally to me. However, it was not lost on me that this organic style is reminiscent to the Art Nouveau movement of the late nineteenth century, not so much the real typography of the period, but the decorative aesthetic.  

I decided to apply the style in a book design, and landed on Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Beaudelaire. Although the poems are from an earlier period, the title seemed particularly evocative and perfect for Art Nouveau, which was greatly influenced by the sinuous shapes in the natural world.

The overall design came together easily enough, but it was the flowers that gave me the most grief. In my original sketch, I had just drawn stylised flowers, but quickly decided that they needed to be more interesting, which meant realistic; my friend suggested Canterbury bells. This was much more helpful as I was able to use real reference to draft the flower from different angles more convincingly.

The original rough, with replacement flowers (right) based on Canterbury bells

The snake is based on the blue viper (Google it and be amazed by the gorgeous ranges of blue, aqua and jade of its skin), and then I had only to decide how many of the flourishes would take the form of snakes. The intricate intertwining of the different elements gives me joy!

Another struggle I had been contending with for months was Adobe Illustrator, which I was using to create the vector art. The latest versions (28.3–28.7) have a horrible bug that makes it extremely difficult to pick up anchor points and handles with the direct selection tool – it would take at least three attempts every. single. time. You can imagine how that lengthened the task of drafting such typography.

It has been the cause of enormous frustration and even physical pain in my hand and wrist from the stressful gripping of my Wacom pen. I was finally able to get hold of Adobe’s technical staff (after being ignored for months by them on the community forum), and the solution turned out to be to downgrade to vs. 28.2. After that, I was able to pick up anchor points and handles at first go, and I was able to complete the artwork with brilliant ease. It felt like a miracle! In fact, I almost sobbed in relief. Apparently – I read in an email this morning – the Adobe development team are working to iron out this flaw. (You can read more about it here.)

When the vector art is complete, I import it as layers into Photoshop and proceed to apply the textural effects and toning. Keeping the artwork as paths means it’s really easy and quick to experiment with different colours. In this case it was mainly the background and text colour I played with to achieve the right balance of alluring brights and muted shades for an unusual and slightly uneasy colour palette that suits the subject. I’m really pleased with the final result.

Your reminder to remember

Recently I was sitting relaxing in the armchair before the fire with my beloved ginger cat on my lap and thought to myself, I must remember this, exactly how she feels; the full weight of her as she lies utterly supine and trusting on her favourite couch, letting go of every care.

How lucky are those of us who are privileged to live with a small, non-human creature. And how dreadful when they leave at the end of their short lives. She’s only nine years old, and of course I hope I have her for a good while longer to appreciate all her funny and tender little ways. If only we could take some kind of recording of this feeling – a tactilograph? – but it can only be graven on our hearts.

I thought it would make a good subject for a typographic illustration. This then is your reminder to remember.

Why Do We Make Art?

Why do we make art? What kind of a silly question is this? Why do we express ourselves? Because we are human. We can’t help ourselves, it’s what we do. Artists must make art: it’s as natural as breathing. It speaks to the human condition, and humanity, from the year dot to the year of the dot com. And humanity is listening, looking, reading, watching – searching down the ages in both directions.

What would the history of the world be without art, without this record in a myriad cultures? There wouldn’t be much. It blows my mind when people – from the hoi polloi in the street to those in high places breathing the thin air – dismiss the Arts as a negligible frivolity, not important enough to invest in.

Don’t they know? THE EARTH WITHOUT ART IS JUST EH.

I’m not certain who first said that phrase. Some online sources cite American comedian Demetri Martin as the author, which is possibly true, but it seems more romantic to consign it to the Everyman Anonymous. Whoever it was, and wherever I first heard it, it is a pithy and pointed quote I have long cherished.

LONG LIVE ART.

Typographical illustration by me.

In Memoriam

In memory of Australians and New Zealanders who served their countries, ANZAC Day marks the first major military action fought in WWI. The poet Leon Gellert, who penned the following poignant words, was 23 when he landed on Anzac Beach in 1915.

We still remember them, 109 years later.

The Last To Leave
by Leon Gellert (1892–1977)

The guns were silent, and the silent hills
had bowed their grasses to a gentle breeze
I gazed upon the vales and on the rills,
And whispered, ‘What of these?’ and ‘What of these?’
These long forgotten dead with sunken graves,
Some crossless, with unwritten memories
Their only mourners are the moaning waves,
Their only minstrels are the singing trees
And thus I mused and sorrowed wistfully

I watched the place where they had scaled the height,
The height whereon they bled so bitterly
Throughout each day and through each blistered night
I sat there long, and listened – all things listened too
I heard the epics of a thousand trees,
A thousand waves I heard; and then I knew
The waves were very old, the trees were wise:
The dead would be remembered evermore—
The valiant dead that gazed upon the skies,
And slept in great battalions by the shore.

Words sourced from allpoetry.com

Alphabet Set

After having to put the risograph alphabet cards aside for a little while, I have finally been able to complete the set with letters P through to Z, hooray! It’s been an interesting exercise in learning how the tools work, and the different techniques required to achieve the desired result – you can definitely see the progression from Acorn to Zeppelin.

In between some of these tiny 3cm x 5 cm cards (inspired by vintage Eastern European matchboxes), I worked on other much larger pieces. When I finally returned to the last few letters, I was reminded what a difference the finished size of the work makes to the appearance of the riso effect. One of my favourite aspects is the faux misprinting effect, where text or graphics are out of alignment with one another, which is what commonly happens in real riso printing. I love that verisimilitude, and the charming vintage feel it lends.

If you were to ask me which is my favourite overall though, it would be hard to choose. But at the moment it is Zeppelin, because of the dramatic lighting which is applied even to the text. And I am fond of the Xylopipe – partly as a point of difference to the more commonly seen xylophone – but also for its bright and gaudy colours.

Yesterday I opened a new Instagram account @helena_turinski, where you will be able to see each of these singly, and also keep up with my artistic output. I’d love to hear from you there, or simply a follow would be warmly appreciated!