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Searching... Lewiston Public Library | 34092001682548 | JB CASTLE | Searching... Unknown |
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Summary
Summary
Caldecott Medal winner Allen Say brings his lavish illustrations and hybrid narrative and artistic styles to the story of artist James Castle.James Castle was born two months premature on September 25, 1899, on a farm in Garden Valley, Idaho. He was deaf, mute, autistic, and probably dyslexic. He didn't walk until he was four; he would never learn to speak, write, read, or use sign language.Yet, today Castle's artwork hangs in major museums throughout the world. The Philadelphia Museum of Art opened "James Castle: A Retrospective" in 2008. The 2013 Venice Biennale included eleven works by Castle in the feature exhibition "The Encyclopedic Palace." And his reputation continues to grow.Caldecott Medal winner Allen Say, author of the acclaimed memoir Drawing from Memory , takes readers through an imagined look at Castle's childhood, allows them to experience his emergence as an artist despite the overwhelming difficulties he faced, and ultimately reveals the triumphs that he would go on to achieve.
Author Notes
Allen Say was born in 1937 in Yokohama, Japan and grew up during the war, attending seven different primary schools amidst the ravages of falling bombs. His parents divorced in the wake of the end of the war and he moved in with his maternal grandmother, with whom he did not get along with. She eventually let him move into a one room apartment, and Say began to make his dream of being a cartoonist a reality. He was twelve years old.
Say sought out his favorite cartoonist, Noro Shinpei, and begged him to take him on as an apprentice. He spent four years with Shinpei, but at the age of 16 moved to the United States with his father. Say was sent to a military school in Southern California but then expelled a year later. He struck out to see California with a suitcase and twenty dollars. He moved from job to job, city to city, school to school, painting along the way, and finally settled on advertising photography and prospered. Say's first children's book was done in his photo studio, between shooting assignments. It was called "The Ink-Keeper's Apprentice" and was the story of his life with Noro Shinpei. After this, he began to illustrate his own picture books, with writing and illustrating becoming a sort of hobby. While illustrating "The Boy of the Three-year Nap" though, Say suddenly remembered the intense joy I knew as a boy in my master's studio and decided to pursue writing and illustrating full time.
Say began publishing books for children in 1968. His early work, consisting mainly of pen-and-ink illustrations for Japanese folktales, was generally well received; however, true success came in 1982 with the publication of The Bicycle Man, based on an incident in Say's life. "The Boy of the Three-Year Nap" published in 1988, and written by Dianne Snyder, was selected as a 1989 Caldecott Honor Book and winner of The Boston Globe-Horn Book Award for best picture book.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (6)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Say (The Inker's Shadow) tells the haunting story of outsider artist James Castle, a deaf and autistic man whose talent was not recognized until late in his life. Narrating in the voice of Castle's nephew, Say describes how Castle was born in 1899 into an Idaho farm family with no resources to help their son. He never learned to speak or read; when upset, he shrieked uncontrollably. But he found consolation in drawing and made some 15,000 pictures, often with soot and sharpened sticks after teachers confiscated his drawing materials. Many of Castle's drawings accompany the story-blocky, sometimes surreal human figures and houses-and Say contributes pen-and-ink vignettes, drawings that mimic Castle's style, and anguished charcoal portraits of the bullying the man endured throughout his life. After living alone in outbuildings on family properties for decades, Castle at last came to the attention of local artists and gained some financial security. Say's moving portrait of Castle's work and life ("I think he was happy," he concludes) pays tribute to a man who was compelled to create despite the torments he underwent. Ages 8-12. (Oct.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Horn Book Review
Say imagines a biography for deaf, self-taught Idaho artist James Castle, born in 1899. Say paints Castle as a mute, solitary, bullied child and man whose hermetic representations of the world around him were extraordinary. Copious illustrations range from Say's characteristic fine-lined watercolors, to naive-style drawings on notebook paper, to cardboard assemblages, to intimate and emotive portraits created with "soot and spit," a favorite medium of Castle's. Bib. (c) Copyright 2018. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Booklist Review
*Starred Review* James Castle is a relatively unknown artist, but renowned illustrator Say attempts to bring his work to a young audience in this enigmatic, fictionalized picture-book biography. Born deaf and mute in 1899, Castle never learned to read or sign, despite attending a school for the deaf. Not surprisingly, he was the object of cruel taunts and mistreatment, but he created a stunning body of work, comprising surreal drawings, collage, and paper arts constructed from materials he found at his parents' farm. Though none of Castle's original artwork appears in these pages, Say endeavors to re-create his process, using soot, burned matches, and found paper in artwork deeply inspired by Castle's own paintings and drawings. The shadowy, thick-lined images are sometimes scary a classroom full of figures with blank faces, a boy in overalls curling into himself in fear but others, such as the view from a high barn window, or a house just for him, capture the deeply observant character of the artist. Though it's difficult to ascertain Say's intended audience for this title, his evocative, unusual illustrations are undeniably stunning and tell a vivid, slightly unsettling story of an artist. It's as if Say, by emulating Castle's methods, has gained unique insight into the artist's perspective and delivers it back to the reader in the medium Castle loved most. Unusual, yet utterly transfixing.--Hunter, Sarah Copyright 2017 Booklist
New York Review of Books Review
IN THIS DIGITAL AGE, with computer-generated works able to replicate traditional media seamlessly, it's easy to forget the humble pencil. But in the hands of an artist, it is a mighty tool: Three new picture books show us how it can give those who are silent expression, the ordinary magic and the powerless power. Allen Say's "Silent Days, Silent Dreams" is a fascinating biography of James Castle, a self-taught 20th-century American artist who was deaf from birth and never learned to read and write. The book opens with a small charcoal drawing of a baby wailing - the mouth a swath of blackness - and we are immediately struck by the silence of the picture. This image - a human howling to be heard in a medium with no sound - seems to encapsulate the essence of Castle. So it is fitting that it's Say's art that truly tells Castle's story. Written in the voice of a nephew of Castle, the tale is spare and almost detached, but the images reveal the torment of his silent, lonely childhood and the passion of creation. When young James has his art supplies taken away, he creates his own pencil with a sharpened stick and soot mixed with his spit. Say's recreations of Castle's work illustrates a mesmerizing vision of the world. (The book does not include any reproductions of Castle's actual art.) The heartbreak of Castle discarding, at one point, his artwork is shown in a bleak charcoal rendering - his arms blurring with fluttering sheets of paper, making it seem as if he is truly casting away parts of himself. When Castle's art is finally discovered by the art world and he has his own show, it is almost an anticlimax: "The turnout was good and a few pieces were sold." Many readers may find it unsatisfactory. But Say, a Caldecott Medal winner for "Grandfather's Journey," has given us a portrait of the purest of artists - one unconcerned about receiving glory for his art, yet desperately passionate about its creation. There is much to ponder here about how an artist's mind works. In the transcendent wordless picture book "Lines," Suzy Lee ("Wave," "Shadow") uses her pencil to draw the reader into layers of her imagination. The book opens to a drawing of a blank page, with only a pencil and eraser. From there, we follow a lone, red-capped ice skater who glides on an expanse of white ice, her skates creating a trailing line behind here. She spins and twirls with exuberance, but when she attempts a spinning jump, her landing falters. It is only when the skater falls that we see that the ice has been the blank sheet of paper and the marks from her skates are pencil lines. The paper is temporary crumpled up as we are reminded of the beginning image, and, with a thrill, we realize we are seeing through the eyes of the artist as well as feeling her frustration. Luckily, the unseen artist reconsiders and smooths out her paper and the skater reappears. From there new skaters begin to jubilantly join the drawing, the hundreds of "mistake" lines and eraser marks becoming their skate tracks. The closing endpapers feature a drawing of an ice pond, presumably the artist's finished piece, on a pile of sketches. It's a magical, inventive journey through the artistic process. The mistakes, as well as the perseverance, needed to create are charmingly personified by the skater. Her motion and body language are captured with marvelous skill, each drawn mark alive with quiet energy -rendering words unnecessary. "Lines" truly underscores Lee's mastery of the wordless picture book form. "Malala's Magic Pencil," the first picture book by the young human rights activist Malala Yousafzai, brings forth the pencil as an obvious symbol. We follow a young Malala who longs for a magic pencil like the one she sees on her favorite TV show. She first dreams of using it to make herself and others happy with small material goods, but one day, Malala notices a girl her own age sorting trash. She soon learns that education is not available for many children, especially girls. Malala sees outside of herself and begins to wish for a magic pencil so that she could "draw a better world." Since none shows up, Malala dedicates herself to her schooling. When girls start dropping out of her school because of "powerful and dangerous men," Malala realizes she can no longer wish for a magic pencil. She must use the ordinary one she has and writes her experiences for the world to see and help. Adults will know the violent turn that Malala's story then takes, but the book deals with her shooting artfully, telling children all they need to know with an almost completely black spread, showing only the back of Malala in a hospital gown with the words that "dangerous men tried to silence me. But they failed." The remainder of the book shows Malala triumphing, sharing her message even louder and wider-working to make her wish for a better world true, using her own pencil. The book itself is also a triumph, for it is a story with hard truths, yet it is accessible for young children. The artwork, by the husband-and-wife team Kerascoet, has its charms, especially the opening spread where Asian motifs of gold ink stream from Malala's pencil and notebook. But it is the voice of the writing that wins over the reader. It has a genuine innocence, heartfelt without any pandering and completely respectful of the young reader. This is an excellent book to begin conversations about world injustice with children. Artists' tools have come a long way over the centuries. But as these three books remind us, as long as there are artists, there will be an important place for the pencil in our lives. It continues to be a forceful tool, revealing its powers to us in the passion of an artist, the struggles and joys of the creative journey, and the inspiration to fight injustice. GRACE LIN is the author and illustrator of many books for young readers, most recently "When the Sea Turned to Silver."
School Library Journal Review
Gr 3-7-In this fascinating longform "imagined" biography about James Castle, author-illustrator Say plays with artistic and literary formats. Castle was born deaf and premature in Idaho, was considered to be autistic and dyslexic, and was abused and bullied for his inability to speak or read. He was discouraged from creating art by his parents and principal, and had his art supplies confiscated and artworks destroyed many times, yet he still created a huge and compelling body of work. The biography is written from the perspective of Castle's nephew, Bob Beach, and the back matter provides detailed information about the artist and Say's connection to him. Say's art, inspired by the many styles of James Castle, vibrates on the page in a variety of media, including matchsticks, shoe polish, liquid laundry bluing, and cardboard, and he even switched hands to imitate Castle. Just as Castle's art leapt in styles and emotions, Say's work shows the trials of a beleaguered and prolific artist. VERDICT A phenomenal and profoundly artistic and biographical work.-Lisa Nowlain, Nevada County -Community Library, CA © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
An imagined biography in words and pictures of the self-taught white artist James Castle. James Castle was born in 1899 on a farm in rural Idaho, "deaf, mute, autistic, and probably dyslexic." Using interviews, written biographical material, and Castle's own drawings as guides, Say, writing in the voice of Robert "Bob" Beach, Castle's nephew, offers a sensitive portrait of a person compelled to draw despite abuse and lack of drawing materials. Considered "ineducable" by the principal of the Idaho School for the Deaf James attended from ages 10 to 15 (he also told James' father not to let him draw), James used burnt matchsticks, soot mixed with his own saliva, and scrap paper to draw in secret. When Beach showed some of Castle's drawings to his art professor, the professor, impressed, arranged an exhibition. More exhibitions followed, and Castle moved into a used trailerby far the nicest studio he ever had. It's a small but deep triumph that this misunderstood, determined artist became discovered by the art world during his lifetime. "I think he was happy," narrator Bob says of this period, and it's a wistful note that Say's illustrationssome in Castle's own style, some darkly black and white, and some in colorgive heartfelt resonance to. With sensitive text and powerful illustrations, Say brings this remarkable, inspiring life to poignant reality. (author's note, bibliography) (Picture book/biography. 8-15) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.