Long time no see

So I've been a tad lacking on the front of writing recently, mainly because I've fallen into the ever dangerous pit of self wallowing that seems to swoop in every so often. However I plan on thwarting this slippery slope before I land at the bottom wondering what happened. It's going to be a slow process, but I plan on taking this blogging thing, (and the whole 'writing' thing), a tad more seriously and hoping to actually delve into my, hopefully, hidden depths and attempt to drag out some sort of artistic ability.

I'll start small and tell you all about a rather fascinating exhibit I went to see this weekend on the wonderfully positive E.H. Shepard...

The day started with promise and bad weather as we strolled out onto the drizzly streets of London. Although the sky was a concerning shade of grey, E and I made out way through the damp towards King's Cross station in the hopes that the exhibition wouldn't reflect the dull metallic tone London was threatening us with. Out optimism was rewarded once we set foot into the House of Illustration. 

Shepard's diary.

The building itself was unimposing and aesthetically quaint for a place that held such imagination within its walls. Rather than a grandiose statement through its architecture, the House of Illustration was subtle and refreshing new building in a city that tries very hard to grab your attention no matter how engrossed you are, in whatever you are, via entirely glass facades or obscene colour schemes. Instead we were confronted with a structure that was unassuming and containing an intriguing tale of an illustrator turned war hero, a man known mainly for his later work in the Hundred Acre Wood and other children's illustration, a man who seemed to keep a positive outlook despite heartbreaking loss and being witness to several of the worst battles in the first world war, the wonderful E.H. Shepard.

What struck me as important about Shepard was his actual artistic ability. Although most of us know him as a children's illustrator, his scratchy style of drawing contains subtle strokes of genius. His ability to separate his foreground and background using a simply change in density to pen stroke was wonderful. His work was far more detailed than I would have assumed his work would have, his images of Pooh Bear and his friends firmly ingrained into my childhood as a messy, chaotic set of erratic strokes. Instead I was presented with very precise images, the facial features surprising me in particular.

Although minimalist in many places, the penetrating humour that is held in a great deal of the satirical artwork that he provided for Punch magazine shows us the true wit of a man whom was not simply a soldier who happened to become an illustrator, but a social commentator with the best interests of his friends, family and the general public at heart.

With his ability to keep morale up on the front and also back home, Shepard shows us how important a war of the mind is when facing adversary of the proportions that the First World War presented. Instead of writing home regarding the horror of the Somme, or Arras, or even Passchendaele he ensured that the horrors of such events were in fact never shown to those near and dear to him.

Some of Shepard's personal effects, including an art box pictured on the upper right of the image. A box that he took with him everywhere.

The death of Shepard's brother was one of the most crushing things to read about, especially on the format of a plaque. Cyril was obviously a massive part of Shepard's life and his death, although significant to Shepard himself, was still hidden from public view it seemed. A man of many pictures shared few words with the world regarding his loss and struggles of the war. It was incredibly sweet to see the few complaints that he made regarding the war, focussing mainly on the hours of the day being lengthy rather than the possibility his own death could take place at any moment.

A map containing the place where Shepard's brother died.

Without a doubt seeing the works of a man who had an influence on my own childhood was brilliant. Although heartbreaking in places, discovering that Shepard was not only a man who simply illustrated, albeit some of the best, children's books but a man who had a huge heart with the ability to keep those around him happy despite the bleakest of situations. He is one of the people that I can safely say I am saddened that I will never have the opportunity to meet.