Click here to subscribe.
The counterpoint of pictures and words
Here is a page from my pocket notebook of Mac Barnett and Jon Klassen discussing a new picture-book version of “Hansel and Gretel,” which was made by Stephen King adding words to Maurice Sendak’s designs for an opera.
JON: I’d say the illustrator is in the business of reacting to the text, doing work the manuscript doesn’t do. This can mean providing new information, adding a different tone or even subverting the words a little.
MAC: It’s this fluid, playful dynamic between text and image that animates the art form. As Sendak himself put it, the picture book is “an ingenious juxtaposition of picture and word, a counterpoint. … Words are left out — but the picture says it. Pictures are left out — but the word says it.”
That Sendak quote is from his praise for Randolph Caldecott:
Caldecott’s work heralds the beginning of the modern picture book. He devised an ingenious juxtaposition of picture and word, a counterpoint that had never happened before. Words are left out – but the picture says it. Pictures are left out – but the word says it. In short, it is the invention of the picture book.
I fixated on Sendak’s use of the word “counterpoint,” because I sort of remembered him being a classical music geek. (I remembered correctly.)
In another interview, Sendak explained his counterpoint idea in a little more detail:
I think what happens is if you’ve got enough confidence in yourself and you’ve resolved the text, that the pictures then do a second story, not be a mere echo. “Jane walked into the room and was eaten by the plant.” You don’t need to draw that, although maybe you’d like to draw that. But, in fact, you should draw something else. There should be a counterpoint between your pictures and your text. The best-illustrated books are the books where the text does one thing and the pictures say something just a little off-center of the language, so they’re both doing something. Otherwise you have an echo chamber. The most boring books are where the pictures are restating the text.
Who needs that? The text said it much better. So you cannot separate the pictures from the text, you shouldn’t be able to, not in a well-constructed book. They should fit in like machinery.
Because music is really my first love, I am always looking for musical metaphors to help me conceptualize my writing better.
A footnote: This morning I heard R.E.M.’s “It’s The End of the World As We Know It,” and I was thinking about how much I like Mike Mills’ backing vocal response to the main chorus line. (“It’s time I had some time alone.”) It reminded me of The Beatles’ “Getting Better,” how Paul McCartney’s “Got to admit it’s getting better / a little better / all the time” was answered by John Lennon’s sardonic backing vocal, “It couldn’t get no worse!” It’s not technically musical counterpoint, I don’t think, but it’s interplay between voices that deepens the work.
Looking back a few seasons
I came across this photo of me from a Laity Lodge retreat back in February and it made me laugh. I look exactly how I feel when I’m trying to figure something out.
These photos are from a block-printing workshop led by designer Dana Tanamachi. (I wrote a little bit more about it here.) Looking back on a few seasons ago, it’s fun to think about how that block-printing seed was planted and led to a whole flurry of activity afterwards…
Drawing color blind
I’ve been experimenting with color drawings in the studio using fancy crayons on top of block printing ink.
Here are items #1 and #2 from Friday’s letter, “Somebody needs to know the time”:
1. I did a lot of design work on the next book this week, a lot of it constrained by what you can do in black and white on a 6″x6″ page. To take a break from greyscale, I’ve been doing a bunch of color drawings in the studio on old pages of sheet music. I’m using a set of Caran d’Ache Classic Neocolor II Water-Soluble Pastels I picked up after learning about them from Tom Sachs. (I may splurge on the big set when these are used up!)
2. Walt Disney said he thought Mary Blair must be colorblind because she came up with such amazing color combinations. I’m red-green colorblind, and most of my life I’ve been scared or confused by color. (My collage work and my block printshave helped me loosen up a bit.) I’m in awe of people who can really do color, and part of my urge to use color this week came from reading cartoonist Tara Booth’s Processing: 100 Comics That Got Me Through It. Booth’s formally trained (and her grandparents are watercolor artists!) but her use of color is just so free and unexpected, it makes you want to join along in the fun. Check her out on Instagram: @tarabooth.
And from Tuesday’s letter, “Your hobby looks exhausting!”
Here are some drawings that showed up in the studio this weekend — they came because I wondered, What if I drew over roller-ed block ink instead of printing over it?
This happens a lot: If I mess around long enough on a creative hobby or side project, pretty soon a body of work starts to show up. I wonder what the heck I’m going to do with it. But the best way to keep it going, for me, is to not jump at answering that question right away, to keep it looking silly and pointless — even to myself! — for as long as I can, so the pieces keep stacking up.
Filed under: color
Return to the island (a mixtape)

Here’s another new monthly mixtape made from a sealed, pre-recorded cassette I got for 99 cents at End of an Ear. I tape over the cassette’s protection tabs and then I tape over the music and then I tape over the artwork.
This one is a sequel to my Oahu mixtape from last summer. (Like many sequels, it’s probably not as good as the original.)
You can listen on Spotify, Apple Music, or YouTube.
Back from vacation
Upon returning from vacation, I solicited travel tips from my readers and shared a bunch of the stuff I saw/read/listened to on our trip to the Pacific.
I’m still recovering from a family trip to Hawaii. I survived a surf lesson and a tsunami! Watched a dozen sunsets. Built sand castles. Swam with sea turtles. Befriended lizards. Dodged roosters. Drank mai tais. Despite (or maybe because of) all that, I don’t think I had a single creative thought while I was out there, and my brains only came back to me once I returned the mainland. (I couldn’t help this trip but to think of Socrates, who was quoted by Seneca: “How can you wonder your travels do you no good, when you carry yourself with you? You are saddled with the very thing that drove you away.”)
Above: some photos of paradise.
- 1
- 2
- 3
- …
- 634
- Older posts→