Jim Thome

One afternoon I get the call asking if I'd like to help out with the 2008 MLB Masterpiece series of trading cards for the Upper Deck Company. Of course, I'd love to, I say. Over several weeks in the Spring, I am very fortunate to be able to paint many of the game's finest players. Jim Thome of the Chicago White Sox is one of them.

Something that is different about this piece from others on my site is the background -- something beyond the textured aray of non-descript color that occupies the bulk of my other pieces. And, what is particularly interesting about the backgrounds for this series is they are largely comprised of out-of-focus crowds. At the time of their painting, I considered this a new and interesting challenge. I'm always up for a challenge.

I wasn't quite sure what the recipe was for accomplishing the blurred look through painting, but I thought I ought to be able to crack the code. I have all the artistic tools, I said to myself. Once I took my brain out of the equation, I think I did figure out the code. Like nearly every step of my artistic life, once I stop analyzing, things fall into place. I trusted my instincts and started feeling things come together. I say feel, because once I zone out and let things happen, I'm not really thinking. And, that's a preferred state, for me. Once the brain sidles into the equation, the best parts of creativity and emotion (ingredients of a successful illustration, I think) tend to fall apart, at least in my experiences.

Sports assignments suit me in their inherent energy which melds nicely with my propensity for movement. This was a terrific assignment and I'm very appreciative for the opportunity to have participated.

Minimum Deterrence

8.8.08.

We've seen the ads for the Olympics, and Last Friday they finally got underway. How about the opening ceremonies? Truly amazing, I thought; a total display of art -- and illustration. Communication at every level was evident. The torch-bearer traversing the circumference of the stadium, air-bound, casting a larger-than-life shadow was impossible from which to turn away. That moving picture spoke to people of all ages and backgrounds as he, and all he represents, christened the opening of the event. He made a connection, literally and figuratively. Making a connection with others is what drives the world.

What are the different ways to make a connection? Does it have to be face-to-face? In this age of the internet, of course not. It all has to do with communication. How do you communicate? Do you do better verbally or via the written word? Do you have a certain body language that speaks confidence and puts people at ease? Maybe it's what you don't say that speaks volumes.

Take this mode of thought to pictures. I'm an analytical guy, so my Xanadu is the moment when I have deconstructed everything to its symbolic and literal significance. At this time, I will be able to pick any number of items from a figurative toolbox and compose them in a way that most effectively communicates anything at any time with amazing clarity and cleverness, blowing the minds of strong and weak, alike -- in doing so, creating an emotional connection with the audience. This is conceptual illustration at its finest, at least in my eyes, and that to which I aspire.

My slow boat to Utopia led me to another fantastic assignment, and opportunity to connect, from the always-terrific Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists. Minimum deterrence is the concept. Basically, this means certain nations have adopted the policy of harboring just enough nuclear weaponry to be able to launch an effective, and protective retaliation -- not a major offensive. This chosen idea shows the larger concept of many versus few. In this case, a few, or one nuclear weapon can make an un-ignorable statement to a potential foe. Maybe not as strong a statement as a full arsenal, but enough of one to make the opposing force perhaps think twice before striking.

On to the topic, now, of my newsletter. You mean you haven't signed-up for it, yet? If you haven't, I encourage you to do so. if only to watch its evolution. I'm finding it fun creating something new while figuring out what makes for the best, brief, unobtrusive yet profoundly inviting and engaging, periodic vehicle for touching-base with other creative folks. I enjoy writing and I enjoy illustrating, so a newsletter ought to be right up my alley. It is a bi-weekly email that includes musings from me, highlights from the blog, links to important, enlightening, and inspiring material, as well as original content created specifically for those taking their valuable time to read about and see what I'm doing. Drop me a line and I'll send you the latest issue. It's theme was music. You may also sign-up here.

Facing Fear

This is an image for New Mobility Magazine. The publication focuses on the active wheelchair user, and the cover story in which this illustration accompanies is about about facing our fears.

The main character in the story has lost the use of his legs, and is coming to terms with his newfound disability. Overcome by fear, he falls out of bed, striving to escape the hospital in which he is "imprisoned," as well as the situation that has, in his mind, imprisoned him.

Plagued with despair, he attempts to escape. But over time, he learns to confront his fears and deal with his challenges.

This image depicts the moment he sees the light of a realistic exit to his paralyzing fear; reaching for, and in some way, now embracing the wheelchair he earlier shunned.

I posed for the fellow in the image, atrophying my legs to replicate the reality of such a situation.

This was one of a 2-illustration series, with the other being the cover. I took lots of photo reference in an attempt to capture poses that were both interesting and realistic to the situation, ie. -- a man without use of his legs reaching for something. How would the weight be distributed, and how would one be able to propel one's self without using his or her trunk? How would your legs fall if you couldn't control their position. And, how can I make it work within the composition?

The client agreed this solution fit the bill.

On another note, I've started an e-newsletter. If you enjoy the blog, and would like to keep up-to-date on things in the world of Allan Burch Illustration, I encourage you to sign up. I'm preparing my second installment, and am seeing this as an interesting challenge. The newsletter is a different medium with a different purpose than a website or blog. So, my humble goal is to make it nothing short of an e-newsletter for which people achingly pine. It will be a bi-weekly, and bursting with content, including, but not limited to: a few words from me, some highlights from the blog, and news and links to cool, enlightening, and critically important things in our industry. I also plan to create content specifically for it -- imagery and narrative, and maybe bury a few "Easter eggs" that may just be for my own entertainment, but certainly rewarding for anyone who might find them. I figure, if I can make it interesting for myself, there's a better chance others will find it equally pine-worthy.

Feel free to sign up here.

Jim McMahon

Jim McMahon of the Chicago Bears. This image is part of a series of "NFL Heroes" I painted for Upper Deck. They are on some trading cards that you should be able to find on the shelves.

I really enjoyed this project on a number of levels. I quite enjoy doing portraits, for one, so this project was right up my alley. Plus, it was a thrill for me to be able to illustrate many of the football players I watched as a youngster, and some of the players of today. Two of my favorite drawing subjects, as a wee one, were cars and football players. Drawing is a great way to really understand something. Since drawing involves intricate observation, one is basically constructing something on paper. Subsequently, at a very early age, I knew every nuance of many team emblems, the ins and outs of helmet structure, and the parts of a uniform. How cool, I thought, for things to come full-circle like this.

When Jim McMahon showed up on my roster, I was particularly pleased. You see, the reference was provided, and it was my job to basically follow that reference. I thought McMahon's was especially interesting -- the colors were great, he had some sunlight creating nice shadows on the uniform, and he was one of my favorite players. Who didn't follow the Bears with McMahon, the Fridge, Payton, Singletary, Ditka, and the Superbowl Shuffle team?

By now, it was obvious this illustration was one I would connect with, beyond the norm. It's also an image where I felt like I was starting to hit my stride with the series. I believe the finished painting reflects my enthusiasm.

This illustration is 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas. No digital work.

Lastly, and on another note, you might notice a redesign to my website. From its inception through the last version, my website was done by me. It was interesting teaching myself all the html things I never thought I would know, but, it was time to kick it up a notch. I was very fortunate for the opportunity to have TBH Creative do just that. Tatum Hindman and her team can be found here: www.tbhcreative.com. They took excellent care of both my website and my print branding.

Illustration Conference v4

Day 2 and 3 of the Illustration Conference...

Kevin O'Callaghan is a 3D designer/illustrator, principal of O’Callaghan & Company - Art for the Film Industry, and curator and Chair of the 3-D design program in the Advertising and Graphic Design department at New York's School of Visual Arts. He gave the closing keynote speach at ICON 5.

What you see above is a shot from my Palm Treo of the Grand Ballroom just prior to his speech. On either side of the stage are large monitors where inspired 3-D work will soon be shown. The large figures are his creations for the MTV Video Awards a few years ago. You can see, from left-to-right, Britney Spears, Marilyn Manson, Chuck Berry (doing the duck walk), and Gwen Stefani. Behind them is a life-sized sidewalk newsstand kiosk replica, also built by Mr. O'Callaghan and created specifically for this conference. It features illustrated magazine covers surrounding a video screen with looping footage of a proprietor interacting with us, as outsiders looking in...perhaps picking up the latest New Yorker.

By the way, I don't think the New Yorker or cover-illustrator Barry Blitt could ask for better publicity with this week's "Politics of Fear" cover. The mainstream media has run with it, expressing some people's hesitancy in jumping on-board with its intent. It depicts, with satire, Mr. and Mrs. Obama manifesting all the false rumors about them.

Back on the stage, between Britney and Marilyn is Whitney Sherman, ICON 5's president, preparing to introduce the final speaker.

To open the first full day of sessions, New Yorker cartoonist Victoria Roberts read announcements in the persona of her alter ego and one of her cartoon characters, Nona. Nona is a small, colorful, eccentric British woman. I wasn't familiar with her, so I wasn't sure what to make of this oddly charming woman reading in the Queen's English. She was kind of Yoda-ish with her petite stature and Jedi-like command of the audience.

The breakout sessions commenced, and I chose to learn about the "Endless Possibilities" with regards to the ancillary markets, like animation and toys, in which artists can apply their work. I then gained insight on life from an artist rep's viewpoint, and wrapped up the day listening to Brad Holland (always an inspiration) talk about the Orphan Works legislation from the perspective of the Illustrators Partnership of America. Aside from being one of the pioneers of modern-day illustration, and perhaps the most often-copied artist of this generation, Brad Holland is an insanely brilliant individual who was rattling Washington legislators' names and meeting dates off the top of his head as if he were plucking them from his Rolodex, and dispensed the information with ease and just the right digestibility for hungry illustrators, like me.

If you are an artist, designer, photographer, musician, or one who makes their living from the products of your creativity, or derive benefit from your freelancer's creative contributions, or just care about either, I would politely ask you to take two minutes and follow either link below to voice your concern about the proposed Orphan Works bill. As currently written, it short-changes artists by removing some of their rights in protecting their work, and places them in a position of weakness when it comes to pursuing infringements. The letter-writing process is done for you, but customizable, and takes 2 minutes to send.

click here

click here

I wrapped up the evening by walking down to the East River to watch the Macy's fireworks display in a light rain, sans umbrella. Obviously, I could have found a street vendor had I really wanted one, but even in the rain, the experience was amazing.

Saturday kicked off with more of Nona and her wisdom, which segued to Gary Panter. Mr. Panter was an art director for Pee Wee's Playhouse. He entertained us with his art and regaled us with stream-of-conscious conversations and stories about Paul Rubens and his time at the Playhouse.

Gallery 101 was next for me as I gained some insight toward breaking into the gallery scene -- something which is on my radar.

Contract self-defense came next, and its information about smartly negotiating and wading through contracts. Finally the keynote and Carnival Carioca -- a fitting Brazilian-themed party to end the conference.

I'm pretty up on registering my copyright, regularly, so the benefit of these conferences, for me, is two-fold (not counting the obvious networking potential): the calls-to-action, like with the Orphan Works legislation, and the pearls of inspiration that squeeze through, like when Steven Heller (former art director for the New York Times Book Review, and prolific author and educator of all things art and design) or Brad Holland speak. Their success and wisdom oozes through in the things they say and don't say. This dialogue alone is invaluable to me as an opportunity to hear some of the most important voices and creative minds in our industry lending their time and expertise to those who will listen.

If you missed the conference, Steven Heller was conducting podcasts, which will be posted to the Illustration Conference's website in the near future. I plan on checking them out, just to hear his angle.

ICON 5 website

If you are so inclined, I've included a bonus post below, detailing some of my non-conference excursions.

Fool for the City

I spent the rest of my stay in New York City working on a rather large illustration assignment, exploring the city, and enjoying the overall experience. One of the coolest things I've ever done came on the Tuesday following the conference.

The Society of Illustrators, located on 63rd street, holds a jazz and sketch night every Tuesday. I had read about it some time ago, and lamented that I was unable to participate in such a wonderful event, until now. I hopped the train to 59th and Lexington, hiked my way 4 blocks north to 63rd, hung a left and a few doors west, walked right in -- sweaty from the short but sweltering walk. I got there at 6:30pm, just as it was starting. Big mistake. The room, adjacent to the bar, located up the stairs of the older house-like building, with an open gallery space at ground level, and various secretive, roped-off rooms up several flights of stairs, was packed with about 30-40 people. One of the non-roped-off rooms had a young woman at a circular white table taking my $15 for the privilege of drawing 2 outstanding models while gentle jazz played from live musicians, and a bartender served drinks to those who wished for one (or two). Several 2 minute poses followed with 5-minute poses, followed by 10's, and finally 20 minute poses. I gladly made due with either my lap or the back of a chair as an easel to hold my drawing pad, and my free hand to hold vine charcoal twigs and a kneaded eraser.

The room was packed with artists of all ages with all matter of medium, wet and dry, drawing and painting...perhaps with charcoal, like me, or with brilliant indigo ink washes, or pencil, or conte crayon, or you name it.

The final 20-minute pose ended at 9:30pm, which came too soon. I walked the 18 blocks south, back to my hotel in the sticky evening air. The unmissable art-deco Chrysler building, illuminated in white, stayed in front of me as the steam forcefully rose from the orange and white barber shop-striped exhausts on the street, as well as the ever-present steam streaming from the manholes and captured in the white, yellow-orange, and red taxicab lights. Totally beautiful.

My birthday happened to be the next day, Wednesday, the 9th, so how cool to spend it in the the city at the Museum of Modern Art, marveling at the special Dali exhibit on the 6th floor. Aside from the walls and walls of originals, always smaller that you think they'll be, were his film projects. The exhibit included his artistic-inspired scene from the Twilight Zone-flavored Hitchcock film, Spellbound (with his 20 ft. x 40 ft. black and white background mural to the dream scene on display), to his 7-minute Fantasia-inspired Disney-animated collaboration, Destino. Amazing, I thought. Check out the on-line exhibit for a taste.

MoMA

I grabbed the express train downtown to hit one more restaurant recommendation before I left. Teany's is the name: tea + ny = Teany. It's a vegetarian restaurant built by Moby, the techno artist and music licensing afficianado. I took the stairs down from the sidewalk and grabbed a seat on the couch, at a round, silver table. The space was small with about 12-15 two-seat tables packed together in three rows of four or five, and Moby music softly wafting in the air. I had a faux turkey club with a red cooler (raspberry and mint tea with a splash of cranberry juice). I'm not yet a vegetarian, but I love trying new things, and I loved trying this eatery. If you are vegetarian, and you like tea, and you like Moby, you should certainly place Teany on your must-visit list. I have some other vegetarian recommendations that deserve places on that same list. Let me know if you are interested, and I'll gladly share (thanks so much to the individual who shared with me).

Before the day started, though, I did the mandatory standing outside at the Today show -- oohing and ahhing when Matt Lauer, Merideth Vierra, Al Roker, and Natalie Morales came out. Tiki Barber rode in on a Harley. On the vegetarian theme, I also watched Martha Stewart and Matt cook meatless burgers. There was a lot of cooking going on out there, and it sure did smell good. There are plenty of people doing prep work and moving lights and cameras in advance of the segments shot outside. If you happened to watch that day, you did see me on-camera. As Al Roker was coming back from what it's going to be like in my neck of the woods, at about 9am, he stood in front of a group of people, myself being one. I was toward the back, allowing the kids, families, and folks who really, really wanted to be on T.V. to be up front. I kept an eye on the monitor to see if I could spot me. Waving my arms would do no good as that was the position of everyone directly behind Al. So, I suavely shifted my body from left to right. On the monitor, behind Al's right shoulder, I spied a dark-haired fellow, in a red shirt, carrying a black shoulder strap bag, suavely shifting himself from left to right.

Check "appear on the Today show" off my life's list of things to accomplish.

It's back to the art next week. I have a newsletter starting up very soon and a revamped website set to launch even sooner -- so keep your eyes open for some new and exciting stuff just around the bend.

Illustration Conference v3

The Conference eased into being on Wednesday as I attended a New York studio tour. Of the several choices, I picked Pentagram -- a design firm, started by five partners (hence, the name), and with offices in London, San Francisco, Austin, Berlin, and New York. Their work spans the gamut of graphic design, packaging, products, architecture, and many other things that can bear the fruits of visual thinking.

Our small group was led to Grand Central Station for the train ride to the south side of town -- interesting in itself as that was my foray into the subway ride. We were met by the Communications Director who showed and explained their portfolio of work, then toured us around the former nightclub that is now their 5th Avenue office building.

Paula Scher is one of Pentagram's partners and designer of the identity for the 2008 Shakespeare in the Park productions. Throughout Central Park, one can see her wonderful constructionist-inspired posters for Hamlet and Hair -- one of which I've snapped above.

Stanley Hainsworth gave the opening keynote. His soothing voice led us through his travels from acting to creative director positions at Nike, Lego, Starbucks, and his current position at Tether, his own company devoted to all things hand-crafted.

I'm always fascinated by people and what makes them tick. One can read so much into folks if one looks at the details. Mr. Hainsworth was standing at the front of the ballroom, before 400-500 other creative beings, waiting to be introduced. He was hard to miss. The hair along his receding hairline was shaped like what occurs after throwing a large rock into a body of water. Around the edge where the hair met his head, it stood up at a 60-degree angle -- unusual, but totally appropriate. His personal style reflected a sense of ownership of his individuality, reflected in his visual identity -- one which was crafted through curiosity and self-teaching, which is always inspiring to me. He shared his philosophy through an engaging talk -- one in which I took away a renewed sense of ownership to the potential of my career.

The evening then turned to The Palms room where a reception commenced, featuring the all-illustrator band, The Halftones. It co-featured an open bar and lots of mingling.

I was recently watching an HBO documentary on Chuck Connelly, titled, The Art of Failure: Chuck Connelly Not For Sale. Mr. Connelly is an artist whose career arc peaked (so far) in the 80s. This film takes a snapshot of him today, referencing the unlimited potential of his past (he came on the art scene with Julian Schnabel and his hands were doing the painting in the Nick Nolte flick, New York Stories), and paints a character study of a man who seems to have sabotaged his opportunities through an overbearing ego. As a result, he has alienated many of his relationships -- professional or otherwise -- leaving him challenged to make a living as an artist.

Two things I take away from this conference are -- it's about professional tenacity and building relationships. These were two things I knew to be true before I arrived in New York, but one of the virtues of these conferences is they tend to positively confirm, in practice, what I have come to discover on my own, sometimes only in theory. Why is that important if I already knew it? In my opinion, it is always beneficial to physically see the positive results of practice in addition to the theory. I think it tends to give me the push I need to propel my work to another level.

Day 2 coming soon.