The design and UX isn't done, Rob and Abbie, okkurrrr! 😌
jonh's review
5.0
Previously read: currently playing catch-up.
I was a weird kid. And in terms of artistic influences, I've always been drawn to those persons who operated outside the conventions.
Hence why Picasso was one of my favorites from a young age, and why Dali soon after followed him as a big inspiration to young Jon's warped mind.
I don't remember as much of the Dali biography as I do the PIcasso biography, in part--I think--because Picasso's art had a child-like quality to it that made it more accessible to me back then. The one thing I remember from the Dali biography was a cartoon Venezia drew of child Dali freaking out. That still makes me laugh.
But the majority of Dali's work--when I first read this book--just felt bizarre and spooky. Intriguing, make no mistake, but there felt something markedly ADULT about Dali was attempting with his artwork. Now, as an adult myself, I absolutely love his bizarre art, and even more so his bizarre personality.
But how does one address this sense of "adultness" in a book geared towards kids? That was the question that kept popping up in my mind as I reread Salvador Dali a few weeks ago. See, for many of these biographies, it seemed simple enough for Mike Venezia to just "tell their story": recount their life and important contributions to the world of art, being careful to distinguish them from their contemporaries.
But then there are the weirdos. It's incredibly easy to separate Picasso from Dali. But it seems to me that in discussing their stories, the task now becomes one centered on accessibility. How do you present these works to children without scaring them off?
The cartoons certainly help in this regard. Venzenia's illustration bring out the cartoonish nature of some of Dali's paintings, bridging the gap. But I think the real success of these books lies in their formatting. I would have to do an extensive study on children's Dali biographies to know for sure, but Venzenia's method of placing life events alongside examples of Dali's art--linking the two in a loose cause-effect relationship--connects the artist to his art. Often, it feels as if these "classic" paintings exist independently of their creators. That Dali, as an artist, was important, but that his paintings are important in separate but equal ways.
But by connecting the artist back to the art, essentially saying, "This is why Dali painted this," or "This part of Dali's personality led to the creation of this" makes both the art and the artist seem more human: a seemingly impossible task when discussing Dali. I love Dali because he was an oddball and proud of it, but he had feelings and thoughts as an human being does, and by connecting the art to the thoughts and feelings that produce it, it seems to me that kids can see Dali and other "out there" artists creatives in the same realm as Da Vinci or Degas: all producing art in their own way, and no one way more right or wrong than its partner.
I was a weird kid. And in terms of artistic influences, I've always been drawn to those persons who operated outside the conventions.
Hence why Picasso was one of my favorites from a young age, and why Dali soon after followed him as a big inspiration to young Jon's warped mind.
I don't remember as much of the Dali biography as I do the PIcasso biography, in part--I think--because Picasso's art had a child-like quality to it that made it more accessible to me back then. The one thing I remember from the Dali biography was a cartoon Venezia drew of child Dali freaking out. That still makes me laugh.
But the majority of Dali's work--when I first read this book--just felt bizarre and spooky. Intriguing, make no mistake, but there felt something markedly ADULT about Dali was attempting with his artwork. Now, as an adult myself, I absolutely love his bizarre art, and even more so his bizarre personality.
But how does one address this sense of "adultness" in a book geared towards kids? That was the question that kept popping up in my mind as I reread Salvador Dali a few weeks ago. See, for many of these biographies, it seemed simple enough for Mike Venezia to just "tell their story": recount their life and important contributions to the world of art, being careful to distinguish them from their contemporaries.
But then there are the weirdos. It's incredibly easy to separate Picasso from Dali. But it seems to me that in discussing their stories, the task now becomes one centered on accessibility. How do you present these works to children without scaring them off?
The cartoons certainly help in this regard. Venzenia's illustration bring out the cartoonish nature of some of Dali's paintings, bridging the gap. But I think the real success of these books lies in their formatting. I would have to do an extensive study on children's Dali biographies to know for sure, but Venzenia's method of placing life events alongside examples of Dali's art--linking the two in a loose cause-effect relationship--connects the artist to his art. Often, it feels as if these "classic" paintings exist independently of their creators. That Dali, as an artist, was important, but that his paintings are important in separate but equal ways.
But by connecting the artist back to the art, essentially saying, "This is why Dali painted this," or "This part of Dali's personality led to the creation of this" makes both the art and the artist seem more human: a seemingly impossible task when discussing Dali. I love Dali because he was an oddball and proud of it, but he had feelings and thoughts as an human being does, and by connecting the art to the thoughts and feelings that produce it, it seems to me that kids can see Dali and other "out there" artists creatives in the same realm as Da Vinci or Degas: all producing art in their own way, and no one way more right or wrong than its partner.
More...