The author is Cruising Through the Louvre searching for his wife who has gone home. Commenting that he feels as if he were in a giant comic book, he narrates through phone conversations and internal voice, observing how people interact with the artwork — from being a part of it to mimicking the compositions.
To further integrate people with artwork, David has drawn both in the same style with colored pencils, which enables him to vary textures, color intensity, and level of detail. I have to admit, I like colored pencils for that reason, and this is a wonderful example of the medium.
Cruising through the Louvre is a humorous look at how people view and respond to great works of art, making it a great work itself.
Not so much a graphic novel, but a collection of short tales, Phantoms of the Louvre captures the spirits of people — virtually all of whom met and untimely and tragic end — intertwined with pieces of art. Each “chapter” contains a 2-page spread that recounts the fates of those people.
The artwork is brilliantly created: desaturated photographs of artwork, artifacts, and galleries were printed on canvas, over which Enki painted the phantoms in acrylic, then accented with pastels. The expressions reflect the lives and deaths of those ghosts.
Phantoms of the Louvre contains captivating, imaginative stories behind iconic works of art that span seven millennia, paying homage to the muses, assistants, and ordinary people whose lives crossed paths with those of the now immortalized artists.
Calling itself a graphic poem, An Enchantment by Christian Durieux, continues the mysterious, after hours theme found in other books in the Louvre editions series.
The guest of honor sneaks out of his own retirement party to roam the Louvre, where he meets a young woman, who shouldn’t be there after hours. Together they playfully avoid guards, ending up in front of one particular painting.
Christian cleverly poses the two characters to replicate several pieces of artwork. His clear-line drawings have a mid-century feel to them. The palette is a warm, sepia-like tone with muted red and light blue accents drawn with a delicate hand that creates an intimate setting, rich with detail.
An Enchantment is just that: a delightful, dream-like evening. It creates a world that beckons the reader to become part of the magic.
A young deaf man with no career ambitions finds his ideal job working ‘on the odd hours’ as a night watchman at the Louvre; or more correctly, the job finds him.
His unique ability to communicate with the souls of the artwork, enables him to help them come to life at night. Initially, this sends him running, but he soon realizes the importance of his gift.
This paperback is packed with small panels that move the story along. Eric’s palette is subdue and dark, creating a mysterious night-time atmosphere, even during the day scenes.
A tale in which a seemingly nobody has great power, On the Odd Hours peeks into the magic hidden in the world of silence.
A group of archaeologists in the next Ice Age, or Glacial Period, stumble upon the Louvre while searching for an ancient civilization under the barren wasteland.
At a time when all human history has been forgotten, they come to their own “scientific” conclusions about Western culture based on the images, especially the nudes, in the museum paintings, thinking they were a record of daily life and human history up to the twenty-first century.
An interesting premise for a story, but this is Nicolas De Crécy: illogical assumptions lead to absurd conclusions in this farce. It is up to the artwork to set the archaeologists straight. Oh, and the dogs can talk.
The illustrations of the artwork vary from recognizable representations to renderings in the same classic-styled sketch with watercolor shading as the narrative.
Glacial Period takes a satirical look at what our art says about us and leaves the reader wondering what conclusions we have jumped to with regards to ancient cultures.
Starting this week and running until the end of January, I will be reviewing books in the Louvre editions series, published in English by NBM Publishing’s Comics Lit.
Not in any particular order, I start with The Sky Over the Louvre, by Bernar Yslaire and Jean-Claude Carrière.
A historical docudrama, The Sky Over the Louvre recounts the early days of the Louvre as it transitioned from a palace to a museum. It takes place during the Reign of Terror, so be warned, there are some rather disturbing aspects of the story.
With an emphasis on the beauty of the male form, elongated figures — that some may find elegant, while others may find grotesque — grace the pages. Facial expressions have a melancholy that reflects the tumultuous times of the setting.
But what I found most striking about the illustrations was the use of white line, a technique I have not yet seen in American sequential art.
The Sky Over the Louvre is the sort of book that will evoke a visceral response. While the story deals with the pursuit of perfection, it is the illustrations that have the greater impact.
Note: Laika’s fate is a historical fact and is recreated as accurately as records and conjecture will allow.
Laika by Nick Abadzis is a docudrama about the first dog in space.
This story is woven from three others: that of the real-life Sergei Korolev “Chief Designer” of the Sputnik project; the fictitious Yelena Dubrovsky, an animal technician who cared for the Cosmodogs; and of course, Laika herself.
Mr. Abadzis took great care researching the historical facts (down to the phase of the moon on the nights leading up to the launch) from which he created a captivating story of how Laika came to be a stray on the Moscow streets, ending up at the Soviet Institute of Aviation Medicine, to being trained and chosen for the mission.
The book deals with themes of destiny and rising from destitution to fame: Korolev from being a political prisoner in The Gulag to becoming crucial to the Space Race; and Laika from being a stray to the most famous dog in history. Repeatedly, the narrative juxtaposes “she’s just a dog” with “she’s special.”
The color illustrations create a world that fits the narrative, transitioning from an ordered environment to vivid dream sequences.
Laika is both an endearing and an enthralling story. It is a believable insight into the relationships between a “quiet and charming” dog and those closest to her.
Fitting in with this month’s “dog days of summer” theme, I am pleased to review a book by one of my favorite French comic book creators, Salvatore, Volume 1: Transports of Love by Nicolas De Crécy.
Salvatore is a mechanic, he is also on a mission to build a vehicle to get him from France to South America where Julia, the love of his life, is.
In classic De Crécy-esque satire, Salvatore is a dog, accompanied by his very small pet human that he refers to as “Little Thing.”
Intertwined in Salvatore’s story are that of a myopic, recently widowed sow giving birth to 13 piglets (one of which goes missing and ends up being adopted by a goth cat) and a bovine couple splitting-up, each of which has a part Salvatore needs for his “love transport.”
Although terrified by everything, especially the cow, Little Thing repeatedly comes through for Salvatore, not only helping him to procure said parts, but also to find his way.
Monsieur De Crécy knows when to throw in backstory at just the right time. His illustrations, loose-line drawings, provide the right amount of detail and absurdity to bring the tale to life.
Salvatore is a commentary on love: the good, the bad, and the loss of; and the lengths to which one man, er dog, will go to to get to his.
I wanted to find something other than Manga, so I was pleased to find the graphic novel version of The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, who was born in Afghanistan. The illustrations are by Italians, Fabio Celoni and Mirka Andolfo.
Amir, a boy of privilege growing up in Shah-era Afghanistan, witnesses the rape of his best friend, Hassan, who is the son of his family’s servant. Racked with guilt for not having stopped it, Amir can’t even stand to be around Hassan. Soon afterwards, the Soviets take Kabul and Amir and his father flee to the US. Many years later, Amir returns to Afghanistan to rescue Hassan’s orphaned son.
The abridged nature of the graphic novel (128 pages vs 372 for the paperback), truncates time-lines and skips important insights into characters’ personalities and motivations. For example, Assef, the rapist, comes across as just a bully; not the neo-Nazi, sociopath he really is.
While the dialogue follows the book (for the most part) for some strange reason a key foreshadowing line is omitted. Without it, a climactic scene loses much of its significance.
Ultimately, the graphic novel version of The Kite Runner suffers from the same problems as “comic book” versions of classic literature: being little more than a detailed synopsis with emphasis on the dramatic moments.
I will say it is beautifully drawn. Celoni and Andolfo transition from vibrant colors of pre-Soviet Afghanistan to a bleaker palette when Amir returns to a country ravaged by war and Taliban-rule.
To experience what makes The Kite Runner a remarkable story, read the book. But for those who only want to know what happens, this graphic novel is a luscious way to do just that.
I discovered this gem while researching “Europe month.” Originally published in French in 2013, the English translation, Girl in Dior by Annie Goetzinger came out earlier this year. I finally got a hold of a copy three weeks ago. Trust me, it was worth the wait!
Girl in Dior offers a fascinating look into the process of designing and showing a clothing collection. This docudrama begins on the eve of Christian Dior’s first show, the birth of his “New Look.”
From fashion reporter to model to client, the fictitious Clara provides a first-person narrative as an insider. She interacts with the real-life people and events at the House of Dior while Christian was at the helm from 1947 until his sudden death ten years later.
The realistic illustrations are as glamorous as the world of haute couture; the colors are subdued, like faded photographs from the time.
Working with Christian Dior Couture and their archives, Madame Goetzinger’s use of perspective and attention to detail beautifully spotlights some of Dior’s most iconic dresses. Additionally, she used period references to “dress the men” as well.
Girl in Dior is the first English translation of Annie Goetzinger’s work. She has a feminist approach. Christian Dior had men working for him, most recognizably Yves St Laurent, but this story focuses on the women: models, pattern makers, seamstresses, magazine editors, and clients. In an era when women rarely had power, this is a peek into a world in which they did.
One need not be a fashion aficionado to appreciate this beautiful book.
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