I hand-lettered the title and added texture to the wall.
Hello dear readers. A few weeks ago, I posted about the release of All the Way to Havana, written by Margarita Enlge. While I was waxing poetic about my experience researching the book, I neglected to talk about how I actually illustrated it. So, I’d like to clarify the process with this brief bonus post.
For my Little Elliot books, I work in pencil on paper and color digitally. It’s a tightly rendered style that showcases a nostalgic (if not a bit “polished”) Old New York. While this style works well for these books, I felt that the same treatment would not translate well to All the Way to Havana without a few adjustments.
drawing for the Malecón spread
Usually, I work to size. That means that the drawing I make is the same size as it is printed in the book. For Havana, I chose to work really large. A double page spread from this book measures about 36” wide on average. This allowed for more looseness in my pencil stroke and allowed me to capture more movement in the drawings. These drawings rely on a thick pencil stroke, so instead of using my usual fine pointed 2B graphite mechanical pencil, I mostly used a 4B ebony pencil (and sometimes switched to the finer point for some details).
detail of wall, sidewalk, and pavement textures
distressed wood and rust can be found on any street corner
Though it is unfortunate that Cuba suffers economically, which prevents everyday maintenance and development, the result is a rich patina that has formed over Cuba’s surfaces: worn wood, chipped paint, rusted metal, gravel and soil. There’s a zen beauty to it all. I felt it was imperative to represent these textures in the illustrations. However, I wanted to keep my line somewhat loose while keeping the textures tight. So, I decided to use textures from the photographs I took in Cuba, and overlay them onto my drawings in Photoshop.
detail of The Gran Teatro de La Habana
Another choice I made, to push the mixed media style even further, was to introduce different art media in addition to the photographs. All the vegetation throughout the book is painted in acrylic. Dirt is photographic and/or paint mixed with pumice. Water is painted in watercolor. The book, like one of Cuba’s antique cars, is an amalgamation of different parts.
a watercolor sea, a pup & pumice, and a painted palm
When I was a kid, I loved collecting Matchbox cars and Hot Wheels. I would “drive” them up railing highways and turn carpets into parking lots. My favorites were the classic cars with big fins and chrome eyeliner. As I got older, I went to antique car shows. Once when I was about 12, I got to see a Tucker ’58 in person, and it was one of the highlights of my year. I couldn’t tell you the basic mechanics of how a car operates, but I could stare longingly at a classic car all day. I drew a lot of cars in my childhood. Little did I know that one day I’d get to illustrate my favorite friends on four wheels.
Today is the release of All the Way to Havana byMargarita Engle . Stating that it was an honor to work on this book seems inadequate. To illustrate something written by such a distinguished poet (now our Young People’s Poet Laureate) made me a little nervous. The book is the brainchild of our editor, Laura Godwin, who has also edited all of my Little Elliot books. (Little Elliot, Fall Friends also comes out today, and I will be writing a separate post about the making of that book, because I want to give each of my “children” their due). She has never steered me wrong, so I had to trust that she trusted me.
Margarita wrote a beautifully simple text. A boy and his family take a road trip from the Cuban countryside to the busy streets of Havana. They have a bit of car trouble before they hit the road, but after some time under the hood, father and son soon get things rolling. We get to see a lot of classic American cars along the way, and the family arrives at a cousin’s birthday party by sundown. It’s just another day in Cuba. But in this brief, seemingly ordinary tale lies the story of an entire people. I was excited to be a part of this, and also overwhelmed. But Laura said I could draw cars and cool buildings, so I thought, why not?
Margarita said this is her favorite spread in the book because it reminds her of her childhood.
I was born and raised in the States. I honestly knew very little about Cuba aside from it being an island off the coast of Florida. Cubans are communists and cigar smokers. In history class I learned about the Bay of Pigs, and there’s that scene in Godfather II that takes place in Havana. That summed up my expertise. So, what gave me the right to illustrate this story about everyday Cuban life? There seemed to be only one option, which was to go there and experience it for myself. Granted, one week in a place isn’t enough to become an expert, but it beats a Google image search.
I took several years of Spanish in middle school and high school. Guess how much of it I retained? No mucho. I messaged an old college friend and fellow artist, Erick Ledesma. Would he like to go to Cuba with me and act as a translator? He said yes, and I am eternally grateful. I would not have had the successful trip I did without him (and there would have been a lot fewer laughs. and less beer). I dedicated this book to Erick, “mi hermano viajero.” We’ll always have Cuba, friend.
Erick, me & “Cara Cara”
We travelled to Cuba in September, 2015. I took a few thousand photos, and have barely shown any of them. Stay tuned for a barrage of pics from the trip on my Instagram account. We took a cab from the airport to Havana. It was a Russian car from the 80s. Erick and I were silent for a while. We peered out through rolled down windows (no AC), while the diesel infused wind whipped across our faces and reminded us “we’re not in Kansas anymore.” Right away, we saw the old American dinosaurs: Chevy, Ford, Oldsmobile, Cadillac, Mercury, Pontiac. Some sparkled as if they just drove out of 1956. Others were jalopy frankensteins, rusted and altered beyond recognition. Every now and then, a swayback horse trotted past pulling a crude buggy with truck tires while Castro looked down from a billboard that read ¡Viva la Revolución! Erick struck up a conversation with the driver. His son was able to leave the country as a professional musician. He boasted like any proud father, but admitted that he wished his son was back home. “I’d rather be poor and eating with my family than rich and eating alone.” The statement set the tone for our trip.
El Malecón is a coastal road that winds along the Havana shoreline.
We stayed with Margarita’s cousins, Julio and Isabel, at their casa particular (a state sanctioned B&B) in Habana Centro. They are both doctors, but struggle to make ends meet. The casa particular is a new enterprise for them. Julio works at the hospital, and used to also deliver pizza in his off time. Everyone does what they need to do to supplement the spare rations. Centro is mostly residential with the occasional storefront or restaurant. The crumbling buildings stand in stark contrast to the polished tourist center of Habana Vieja. Cracked paint, a makeshift door, the outline of what was once probably an ornate cornice show us the ravages of time and economic hardship, yet these buildings stand proud. They’re still standing. They’re still homes to proud people who also press on in the face of adversity.
Did you know that baseball is Cuba’s most popular sport?
We spent the first few days of the week walking around Havana taking reference shots. Between the classic cars, old architecture, and street vendors singing about their wares, Cuba really does feel like a time capsule. Then without warning you’re pulled back into present tense. In one plaza, a hoard of people squeeze in tightly to try to get cell service. Across the street, a giant tour bus squeezes through traffic.
Julio helped us find a driver to take us on a road trip. I wanted to experience the journey that the family in the book makes. His friend Rey arrived with his wife, Marbelis, and their 1954 Chevy 210 Series, AKA the Delray. Yes, he shares a name with the car model. She’s in good shape, if not a little rough around the edges. The Chevy has been in Marbelis’ family for over 30 years. Though the old American engine still works, they took it out to preserve it and installed a Mercades engine. This is no small feat, considering that in 2015 the average Cuban earned less than $100/month. Parts are rare, and those you can buy are pricey. As part of my research back at home, I watched Cuban Chrome, which I recommend watching if you want to get an idea of the pitfalls and triumphs of car repair in Cuba.
The engine on the right is made up of parts from many other machines, not all of them cars.
We headed out of the city on a highway. The decaying pastel structures gave way to a lush green landscape. Every few miles a crowd waited for a bus to Havana. Some piled into almendrones (communal taxis)—more than one would think imaginable. We stopped at several farms. Erick and Rey explained what we were doing. Everyone was very welcoming while I traipsed around with my giant camera. A woman hung laundry on a line while men tinkered with farm equipment. A small boy insisted that I meet his guinea pig. We drove south, passed through the beautiful French architecture of Cienfuegos, and stopped in Trinidad, a small colonial village on the southern coast where Margarita’s parents met. Unfortunately, Trinidad is not featured in this book, simply because 40 pages wasn’t enough visual space to cram it in. However, it meant something to visit a town that Margarita has ties to, and that we were traveling on roads she and her forbearers once traversed.
The next day, we drove all the way to Havana. I tried to take in the whole scene. Palm trees and Plymouths. An old friend, and two new ones. And this big blue hunk of metal, a symbol of past and perseverance, the most incredible automobile I have ever had the honor to ride in. “Does the car have a name?” I asked. Rey and Marbelis were puzzled. “In the US, sometimes people name their cars,” Erick translated for me. They smiled at the novelty of this. “What is the name of the car in the book?” they asked. “Cara Cara,” I said. “Well, then that is her name now!” This remains one of my favorite moments.
There’s so much more about making this book that I want to share. And there’s so much more of Cuba that I wanted to show in this book. All I can do is hope it’s enough. Margarita said this book is about peace, about bringing two neighbors together: the Cubans in the book, and the Americans reading it. Neighbors should be friends. While some of this book may seem very foreign to some, I hope that they can also see the universal themes of family and the roads we take, some bumpy and others smooth. If one neighbor can see the road the other is traveling on and discover a familiar feeling, then maybe that is enough for me.
Read these art notes to learn more about the process of illustrating this book. To read the four starred reviews or to order online, please visit my site. To hear even more about this book, listen to this podcast interview with Matthew Winner of All the Wonders. ¡Gracias!
I’ve never been a thrill seeker, at least when it comes to amusement parks. While I’ve slightly expanded my joyride repertoire, I still prefer my feet on the ground, and an ice cream cone in my hand.
“Keep that ground where I can see it!”
One time, when I was very little (…ok, I was 14), a group of friends convinceddragged me onto a ride at an amusement park. It was a big platform that was connected to a giant sun by a very long arm, which would rotate around the sun to a height of (by my estimation) ten thousand feet. Apparently, my face looked something like a mood ring before I fainted on my friend, woke up, and nearly threw up Exorcist style. But my buddy Jim squeezed me tight with one arm and cupped his other hand over my mouth and screamed bloody murder until the technician stopped the ride early. I almost died. I mean, I thought I was going to. But I didn’t. My friend was there for me, and after we got off the devil’s slingshot, we had a really good time.
In Little Elliot, BIG FUN, Elliot and his friend Mouse go to Coney Island to see the sights and ride the rides. Mouse wants to go on the wet rides, the dizzy rides, and the fast rides! Poor Elliot is not up to it. Even when he tries to take it easy, the chaos of Coney Island sends Elliot on a pandemonious misadventure and Mouse on a wild goose chase.
Life presents us with many rides. Some are more inviting than others. Sometimes we have to get on rides that we don’t want to get on. While it’s great to have friends around to have fun, it’s these scary times when we really need friends close by. In this book, Little Elliot and Mouse continue to show us what friendship is all about, but this time they also show us great courage. Elliot musters the courage to face his fears, while Mouse has the courage and patience to be there for him.
Like Elliot, I have been afraid of lots of rides, both at the park and in my life. I’ve been very blessed to have many friends who double as heroes. I hope that I have been able to return the favor from time to time. It’s important to know that you’re not riding this roller coaster alone. We need to be good friends and hold each other’s hands…and maybe also a vomit bag.
Why Coney Island?
Luna Park at night c.1937
While I was doing research for Little Elliot, Big City and Little Elliot, Big Family, I looked at many photos and films ofNew York City during late 1930s and early 1940s. Eventually, I stumbled upon Ken Burn’s documentary, Coney Island. After watching it, I knew exactly where Little Elliot and Mouse should go next. The old film clips are totally mesmerizing. Nothing quite says “summer in New York City” like Coney Island. I love living vicariously through Elliot, who gets to see an enchanting world that is lost to us.
Coney Island was once a skyline of towers, turrets, and minarets. At its brightest, it was the product of visionaries that transported its visitors to a world of dreams and possibilities. It was, in its way, a wonder of the world that showcased the very heights of humanity’s imagination and innovation. At its darkest moments, Coney Island was scandalous, financially ruinous, and even morally reprehensible. It’s eventual downfall reminded us that joy is fleeting. Little Elliot, Big Fun walks the tightrope of hope and fear, and Coney Island is the perfect backdrop.
So much research!
It was a lot of FUN making this book, and also a lot of WORK! I did more research for this book than Big City and Big Family combined! What made it extra challenging is that not much of the Coney Island of that time still exists. The boardwalk was plagued by fires, while other parts of it were demolished by a certain opportunistic developer. In the early 20th century, Coney Island consisted of three large amusement parks: Luna Park, Steeplechase, and Dreamland, plus many small independent rides and stands. Most of what you see in BIG FUN is based on Luna and Steeplechase, while Dreamland burned down in 1911 (a real shame because it was truly enchanting and I would have loved to have drawn it in the book). It was challenging deciphering blurry vintage black and white photographs, and then trying to envision what a scene might look like from a different perspective.
Some iconic rides still stand, like the Parachute Jump (which is just decorative now), the Cyclone, and of course the Wonder Wheel, which is at the very height and heart of our story.
I went to Coney Island several times to take photos and enjoy the sights, sounds, and smells of the boardwalk.
Dan and Katrina on the pier with the modern day boardwalk behind them.
Ruth wolfs down a “Coney Island Red Hot”
Katrina and I ride the Wonder Wheel!
Aside from the documentary I mentioned earlier, I also watched many films featuring Coney Island, including Speedy, The Devil and Miss Jones, Enemies: A Love Story, and for some added levity, The Warriors.
photo by Morris Engle, 1938
I looked at many photographs, and my favorites were by Morris Engle, which I certainly reference in some illustrations in the book.
I’ve hidden away a few surprises in the book as a thank you to some of my friends who have been there for me when I’ve been afraid.This Berger’s Burgers billboard is in honor of my friend and queen of wordplay, Samantha Berger, who I am making a book with soon!
Don’t miss the double gatefold towards the end of the book! On the right side page, you’ll notice an elephant standing amongst the buildings. Well, that is also a building! In fact, it is the Elephantine Colossus, which was at one point or another a hotel, concert hall, and amusement bazaar. It stood on Surf Avenue from 1885 to 1896, when it burned down in one of Coney Island’s many fires. Though technically it wouldn’t have been around for Elliot to see in the late 1930s, I couldn’t resist paying tribute to our lost pachyderm palace.
I’ve got bad news for you. The beautiful baby that you gave birth to, loved, and nurtured, has grown into a monster. It must be stopped, and only YOU can stop it. I am of course speaking about the picture book that you’re working on, specifically the beautiful chrome car bumper you just drew, or the building facade that took you 5 hours to ink, or the cherry blossom tree that you spent 2 days painting (how can you mess up a tree, right?). Well, you’ve been missing the big picture. Literally. Take a nice step back and look at your entire composition. You see it now, don’t you? That bumper is actually not supposed to be shaped that way. The turret that you painstakingly drew each shingle on is out of perspective! And that cherry blossom tree is somehow crooked (but it’s a TREE!). I can see you mouthing that involuntary expletive. Go ahead, let it out, because this is going to suck. You are going to have to kill your baby.
Geez man, let it GO!
I know what you’re thinking, “SCREW YOU, MAN! This is the best bumper I’ve ever drawn!” I hear you, because I just drew the best bumper I’ve ever drawn, and it was not shaped the way it is in real life (let’s blame the tricky chrome reflections in my reference!). But guess what? That crazed automobile collector who is going to buy my book because they know every minute detail about ’54 Chevys IS going to see that the bumper is inaccurate, and she WILL email me to complain about it (and maybe even give it a menacing review). AND, that’s on ME. If I’m making a book about cars, and I blatantly disregard the details that are going to make car enthusiasts swoon, then I’m not doing my job, and I’ve lost my credibility.
the bumper in question–I also forgot the keyhole!!!
It’s not just about being technically accurate. You could be working in a completely abstract style that excuses you from lots of formal “art rules.” The fact remains: if there is something in your composition that is calling too much attention to itself in a way that has nothing to do with the plot, you’ve just pulled your reader out of the story! This is the LAST thing you want to happen. No bumper is that precious.
This can be applied to writing, illustrating, and all other creative endeavors.
Don’t cry yet. Do the job first, mourn later. It will be easier for both of you this way. You’ll erase the best bumper you’ve ever drawn, but you’ll save the rest of the drawing you’ve made. Plus, you just proved you can draw an amazing bumper, so why can’t you draw it again? Your drawing is going to be stronger because of this.
Who knew erasers could look so threatening? Pick it up. Erase the bumper. Draw a better one.
Here’s a gentle reminder, friends: It’s probably not THE best drawing or painting EVER made in the HISTORY of Art, right? If you put it next to the Mona Lisa, would she turn to look at it and be all, “OH, DAYUMN!” I didn’t think so.
Take heart. Your baby will return, maybe not specifically as a car bumper, but as a really amazing overall piece that you can be proud of!
I submitted my illustration work to Communication Arts’ Illustration Annual for a decade, to no avail. Finally, this year I made it in with Little Elliot, Big City! It’s quite an honor. Twenty-four books were selected for their Award of Excellence.
When I was in second grade, I remember reading The Snowy Day by Ezra Jack Keats for the first time. The colors and shapes wove a spell over me. This was a world that I wanted to play in. Now, as a grown up, I get to live, play, and march through the snow in Brooklyn, where Keats set his story. This past month, I was privileged to receive the Ezra Jack Keats New Illustrator Honor for Little Elliot, Big City. The little boy in me who grew up reading The Snow Day is quite proud. I hope to follow in Keats’ snowy footsteps, creating meaningful books for young readers.
Elliot and Peter are friends! You can purchase them both from MerryMakers.
I am also humbled to be included amongst these other talented people:
Chris Haughton EJK New Illustrator Award for Shh! We Have a Plan
Evan Turk EJK New Illustrator Honor for Grandfather Gandhi
Chieri Uegaki EJK New Writer Award for Hana Hashimoto, Sixth Violin
Adam Auerbach EJK New Writer Honor for Edda: A Little Valkyrie’s First Day of School
Alan Rabinowitz EJK New Writer Honor for A Boy and a Jaguar
If you happen to be in Memphis between now and March 16, you can see original art from Little Elliot, Big City (and many other children’s books) on display at Memphis College of Art as part of the Original Art Show. The exhibit began at the Society Of Illustrators in New York City and is now traveling the country. Little Elliot, Big City received the Founder’s Award at the show last October. The opening reception at MCA is this Friday, February 20, 6 to 8PM. Click here for more information.
I’m so excited to share the cover of Little Elliot, Big Family with you! I’m very proud of this book, and I can’t wait for you to read the whole thing!
When Mouse heads off to a family reunion, Little Elliot decides to go for a walk. As he explores each busy street, he sees families in all shapes and sizes. In a city of millions, Little Elliot feels very much alone–until he finds he has a family of his own!
You can read Elliot’s new story on October 6, 2015. I know, it’s such a long ways to wait! But if you want even more sneak peeks of the interior, head on over to these friends’ blogs:
Last night I was deeply honored to receive the 2014 Original Art ShowFounder’s Award at the Society of Illustrators. It was a wonderful evening. It’s amazing to be counted among so many talented people working in children’s books today. Benjamin Chaud won the gold medal for Bear Song, while 2 silver medals went to Carson Ellis for Wildwood Imperium and Gary Kelly for Harlem Hellfighters. Lane Smith won a Lifetime Achievement award, as well as Arnold Lobel (posthumously). My heart swelled when the award was given to Lobel’s daughter. He has been an illustrator and storyteller who I have looked up to for many years.
Frog and Toad has been one of my most cherished books, and it’s been loved by countless others.
I’m still feeling overwhelmed by all of the beautiful pieces that Elliot is (literally) hanging out with. I need to get back to the show to see everything up close and personal, without hundreds of people crammed into the gallery. I’m proud to call some of these artists my friends. You can click here to see a full list of all of the artists who were accepted into the show. Also, the Original Art Show will be traveling the country for the next year, making stops in Memphis College of Art, Peninsula Fine Arts Center, and more to be announced.
Kelly Light and me at a show that our books got into, holding a Publisher’s Weekly article about our books. #Metaland
Celebrations ended with cake bigger than Ruth Chan’s head…and maybe a few other treats.