I went to see Mo Willems speak a few days ago, as part of a kickoff for his Seriously Silly show at the High Museum of Atlanta.
I promised some illustrator friends who couldn’t be there that I’d share my experience, and I was so impressed by the wealth of knowledge and wit in one little informal talk, I felt it warranted a blog post*.
Mo Willems is one brilliant dude. And hilarious. And honest. It’s no wonder kids go bananas over his books. If you’re not familiar with at least some of his books - where have you been, under a rock? No seriously, if you’re an illustrator but you don’t follow kidlit, or animation, and don’t know about him, he’s worth looking into. He’s got a ton of wisdom and experience in that genius mind, and delivers it with really sharp humor, which makes me an instant fan.
Here’s just a few highlights from his visit to the High. Most are paraphrased. I took Mo’s advice at the beginning of the talk and resisted the urge to write everylittlething down, and focused on absorbing the info instead.
Great illustration shouldn’t just be a visual of representation of the story or words, as well as the words shouldn’t just describe the picture. They should need each other; they should co-exist and hold each other up.(There was use of the word gossamer about here, and damn I wish I could direct quote that, because gossamer is one of my favorite words and it’s so rare I get to employ it - but alas, the direct quote escapes me).
If you carefully illustrate every part of the scene/story, how does the reader/viewer insert themselves into the story? Isn’t that the magic of books - we become part of the dialogue? Mo stressed this in terms of children’s picture books in particular, but here’s my addition: this is also true of editorial illustration, chapter books, book covers, - I’d even go so far as to say illustrative art as a whole. We as artists often have a ‘story’ in our minds behind our work (I won’t speak for you, but I know I do), but do we need to spell it out entirely for the audience? That robs them of the experience of filling in the ‘spaces’ with their own imaginations.
This beautiful little bit here about images and story needing each other - I just wanted to stand up and fist pump and scream ‘Hell YES!’ But I stayed in my seat and clapped appropriately, pretending I was a refined adult. It is the High Museum, after all.
"But how do I know if my work is any good?”
You’ll never know if it’s any good. You only know when it stops being bad.
That’s when it’s done.
Drawing, drawing and more drawing. Sometimes I groan when I hear another mentor say it, but I know it’s true. It’s not that I don’t love doing it- I do - it’s just sometimes that blank sheet of paper is so... menacing. And procrastination seems so delicious. But here’s another genius, saying it again. You gotta draw, man. We all have 10,000 bad drawings in us, so you’d best start drawing. Get them out. Get to the good stuff (you’ll know it’s good when it stops being bad - see above). And don’t fall in love with a drawing. Ever. You fall in love, it makes it heartbreaking to edit, and that may need to happen - often - when you’re in this business.
Childhood is kind of terrible.
What? No! It’s beautiful and magical, right? Naw, that’s adult nostalgia. Think about it; you get told what to do ALL the time - you even have to ask to go to the bathroom. Nothing is sized to fit you - furniture in your own house is all wrong. At any moment a giant hand can come from nowhere and pluck you from what you were happily doing, and then you get in trouble if you complain. You have to learn to do things. All the things. Hard things. You have to clean your plate, and it’s not full of sweet cereal goodness.
Mo shared that he had a particular disdain for shinyhappy cartoons and comics growing up (and still does), because childhood isn’t like that. He related more to Peanuts, because Charlie Brown was the only guy who seemed to have it rougher than the average kid.
For me, hearing this was... a relief. I really do love illustrating children’s stories - for various ages, but especially around ages that, well, I didn’t experience as a shinyhappy existence, either. I’ve always felt somewhat separated from that glistening, sweet representation of kid life. My childhood wasn’t that, and while I adore cute things and I believe the world needs that, it’s never been my forte to keep things totally sweet.
You’re so right, Mo Willems! Childhood is hard. Kids know this. They can appreciate the chance to be validated, just like adults do. Is it any wonder kids love Mo’s books so much?
He works in a deconstructive manner, stripping away words from text and lines from illustrations until it’s down to essence, and if any one more thing was removed, it would cease to be the same thing.
You gotta understand, this is fascinating to me. Anyone who works in detail, like I am wont to do, will know what I mean. It takes me a lot of reductive practice to get down to the essence of a thing I am drawing - and it is HARD for me. What some may see as ‘simplistic’ or juvenile, I often see as confounding and amazing.
You should always be able to know how a character feels by just its silhouette.
If people think his work is easy, or a kid could do it, or it must have just happened, then it’s success in Mo’s book.
“You can draw the pigeon yourself, you say? Success!!”
When writing for Sesame Street “You think Elmo just exists and says all these things, all on his own? Success!!”
It feels so natural to your audience, it just seems like it must have organically appeared fully formed, as is, for their enjoyment, with no efforts on your part. Okay Mo, I follow you in theory, and I do think that’s a really great (and probably healthy) way to look at it.
Personally, I struggle with this. It’s a way I hadn’t really embraced looking at things before, but I have experienced it with some regularity. It’s hard for me to take it as a success. Maybe I’ll be able to embrace it with Mo’s enthusiasm at some point. (Anyone with any pointers in this realm, please feel free to comment about it!)
“If you ever find yourself in the wrong story, leave.”
Okay, he didn’t quote himself in his talk, but I couldn’t close without including his most quotable quote.
There was so much to absorb, and really ‘take into your being’, as Mo put it - more than I can write and certainly more than you probably want to read. I can’t deliver with nearly the punch he can. If you ever have the opportunity to meet Mo Willems, or hear him speak, take it. And if you’re in the Atlanta area between now and Jan 10, 2016, go see his exhibit at the High. With or without kids, it’s worth checking out.
And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention my gratitude that the High has started including picture book illustration as art worthy of museum shows (last year's Jerry Pinkney show was wonderful, and very well received). On behalf of picture book illustrators (and fans), thank you, High Museum!
You read this far? Thank YOU! :-)
xoxo
Michele
*Side note: I’ve been fortunate to participate in so many inspiring events in the realm of art and illustration lately, and live in an area pretty rich with opportunities for this. In my ongoing efforts to avoid ‘artistic isolation’ and to grow as a creative, I’d like to start sharing my experiences with them from time to time - as a journal for myself to revisit, and as a sharing for those who may be on similar journeys to virtually come along with me. Follow, and I promise I’ll keep sharing!
