Forty interviews and 64 very short stories.
Pen and Mouse: Commercial Art and Digital Illustration**What stands out about this book is its concise overview of the relationship between commercial art and digital technology. This is a book of many images, few words and a lot in between. Posing a series of six questions, the book takes on the form of a casual interview with each of the over 40 artists it features. The questions give the artists a chance to comment on what inspires them, how they distinguish between craft and technology and how they view the evolution of techniques they employ in their work.
The answers open up a window, in an often humorous way, to what binds commercial artists together. Routine problems include finding a suitable job title, “visual communicator” being the most elegant, while reasons for choosing the profession range from “the process of elimination” to “delusion” and “masochism.”
Although a critically acclaimed book, Pen and Mouse disappoints insiders because of its surprisingly small selection of artists—the majority of whom are from the UK. So, too, is the audience with whom they communicate. For the digitally informed, more information on techniques should also have been included. In some cases the illustrator or artist has expanded on this topic, in other cases there is virtually no information given. These minor defects aside, the book gracefully reconciles the work of the contemporary artist with his or her electronic environment. And although many of the illustrators are spiritually from the old world, convinced that “sometimes it refreshes your soul to watch paint dry,” all of them, today, use some sort of digital technology.
Regardless of the industry—fashion, music, publishing, advertising or Web design—Pen and Mouse confirms the role of technology as an indispensable tool that has introduced a new range of possibilities to artists, including unprecedented control, great speed and a reduced need for space.
Easy to use and peppered with wonderful wit, Pen and Mouse gives the reader an untainted view of each artist and addresses that ubiquitous question “how does technology affect art?” A terrific list of contact information is found in the back so you can have a chat with your favorite “visual communicator.”
by Massoumeh Farman-Farmaian
The Devil’s Larder***
by Jim Crace
Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001
In The Devil’s Larder , Jim Crace has created 64 miniature stories, between which the only connection is food. Food, which sustains life, is used as a metaphor for every conceivable facet of human existence (or at least 64 of them). At first, the reader is a bit confused: “Are these stories going to develop the plot of the novel?” “What does this story have to do with the previous one?” The answers are “no,” and “nothing,” except that each one- or two-page tale is a thread in a larger tapestry. It is only by reading further that one discovers the design of this tapestry. This is not a novel. There are no central characters. But, at the same time, neither is it a simple collection of short stories. As in opera, it is to be appreciated as a whole. Sure, there are arias that stand out, but who can remember the tune of every bit of recitative, no matter how important, in Madame Butterfly , say?
The point of the entire book is conveyed in a page-and-a-half story about a young bachelor buying rather unhealthy food in the grocery store, and being pressured by the cashier to look over the items on special: “For what we choose is what we are. He should not miss this second opportunity to re-create himself with food”—in other words, “you are what you eat.”
Crace’s exacting prose is often exciting, bringing the reader very close to a personal understanding of his short-lived characters. There is nothing mundane about his choice of words and phrasing, which are quite whimsical and witty. Indeed, the vivid descriptions of food at times leave the reader positively craving it, at others utterly repulsed by it. Food is masterfully shown as an obsession, a nemesis, a medicine, a love and, most of all, a necessity.
Though The Devil’s Larder —the title of which comes from Visitations (“There are no bitter fruits in Heaven. Nor is there honey in the Devil’s Larder”)—does not contain a traditional plot or complex characters that usually captivate an audience, it is nevertheless a very intriguing and satisfying read, communicating both the good and bad in all people. It is something new, which is very rare these days. Crace succeeds in conveying many diverse, and seemingly trivial, aspects of human existence through one of the very few things we all share: food. Each individual story does not necessarily make sense out of the context of the novel, but, upon finishing The Devil’s Larder , the reader will see each as an indispensable brushstroke of a unique and thought-provoking work of art.
