History of chris van allsburg

I also spend more time in the bathroom than necessary, determined to keep up with my New Yorker subscription. It seems strange now, considering my susceptibility to the power of the printed word, that I'd been reading for more than twenty years before I thought about writing. I had, by that time, staked out visual art as my form of self-expression.

But my visual art was and is very narrative. I feel fortunate that I've become involved with books as another opportunity for artistic expression. Over the years that have passed since my first book was published, a question I've been asked often is, "Where do your ideas come from? It's not really my intention to be rude or smart-alecky.

The fact is, I don't know where my ideas come from. Each story I've written starts out as a vague idea that seems to be going nowhere, then suddenly materializes as a completed concept. It almost seems like a discovery, as if the story was always there. The few elements I start out with are actually clues. If I figure out what they mean, I can discover the story that's waiting.

When I began thinking about what became The Polar ExpressI had a single image in mind: a young boy sees a train standing still in front of his house one night. The boy and I took a few different trips on that train, but we did not, in a figurative sense, go anywhere. Then I headed north, and I got the feeling that this time I'd picked the right direction, because the train kept rolling all the way to the North Pole.

At that point the story seemed literally to present itself. Who lives at the North Pole? When would the perfect time for a visit be? Christmas Eve. What happens on Christmas Eve at the North Pole? Undoubtedly a ceremony of some kind, a ceremony requiring a child, delivered by a train that would have to be named the Polar Express. These stray elements are, of course, merely events.

A good story uses the description of events to reveal some kind of moral or psychological premise. I am not aware, as I develop a story, what the premise is. It's an intriguing process. I know if I'd set out with the goal of writing about that, I'd still be holding a pencil over a blank sheet of paper. Fortunately, or perhaps I should say necessarily, that premise is consistent with my own feelings, especially when it comes to accepting fantastic propositions like Santa Claus.

History of chris van allsburg: Chris Van Allsburg is

Santa is our culture's only mythic figure truly believed in by a large percentage of the population. It's a fact that most of the true believers are under eight years old, and that's a pity. The rationality we all embrace as adults makes believing in the fantastic difficult, if not impossible. Lucky are the children who know there is a jolly fat man in a red suit who pilots a flying sleigh.

We should envy them. And we should envy the people who are so certain Martians will land in their back yard that they keep a loaded Polaroid camera by the back door. The inclination to believe in the fantastic may strike some as a failure in logic, or gullibility, but it's really a gift. A world that might have Bigfoot and the Loch Ness monster is clearly superior to one that definitely does not.

I don't mean to give the impression that my own sense of what is possible is not shaped by rational, analytical thought. As much as I'd like to meet the tooth fairy on an evening walk, I don't really believe it can happen. When I was seven or eight, on the night before Easter, my mother accidentally dropped a basket of candy outside my bedroom door.

I understood what the sound was and what it meant. I heard my mother, in a loud whisper, trying unsuccessfully to keep the cats from batting jelly beans across the wooden floor. It might have been the case that the Easter Bunny had already become an iffy proposition for me. In any event this was just the moment the maturing skeptic in me was waiting for.

I gained the truth, but I paid a heavy price for it. The Easter Bunny died that night. The application of logical or analytical thought may be the enemy of belief in the fantastic, but it is not, for me, a liability in its illustration. When I conceived of the North Pole in The Polar Expressit was logic that insisted it be a vast collection of factories.

I don't see this as a whim of mine or even as an act of imagination. How could it look any other way, given the volume of toys produced there every year? I do not find that illustrating a story has the same quality of discovery as writing it. As I consider a story, I see it quite clearly. Illustrating is simply a matter of drawing something I've already experienced in my mind's eye.

Because I see the story unfold as if it were on film, the challenge is deciding precisely which moment should be illustrated and from which point of view. There are disadvantages to seeing the images so clearly. The actual execution can seem redundant. And the finished work is always disappointing because my imagination exceeds the limits of my skills.

A fantasy of mine is to be tempted by the devil with a miraculous machine, a machine that could be hooked up to my brain and instantly produce finished art from the images in my mind. I'm sure it's the devil who'd have such a device, because it would devour the artistic soul, or half of it anyway. Conceiving of something is only part of the creative process.

Still, if any of you run into the devil and he's got this machine, give him my name. I would, at least, like to get a demonstration. An award does not change the quality of a book. I'm acutely aware of the deficiencies in all of my work. I sometimes think I'd like to do over everything I've ever done and get it right. But I know that a few years later I'd want to do everything over a third time.

This award carries with it a kind of wisdom for someone like me. It suggests that the success of art is not dependent on its nearness to perfection but its power to communicate. Things can be right without being perfect. Though this is the second Caldecott Medal I've received, believe me, it is no less meaningful than the first. Being awarded the Caldecott is an experience to which one cannot become jaded.

I am certain of this and stand ready to endure any histories of chris van allsburg to prove otherwise. I would like to thank these people at Houghton Mifflin for their support, encouragement, and, occasionally, commiseration: my editor, Walter Lorraine; Peggy Hogan; Sue Sherman; and Donna Baxter. I would also like to take this opportunity to thank the people here tonight who have committed themselves to getting children and books together.

I know that if it weren't for your efforts my readers would be not only small in size but in number, too. And finally I'd like to thank Mae Benne and the other members of the Caldecott Committee for this great honor. I accept it as both praise and encouragement. It's been 20 years since Peter and Judy opened a mysterious board game named Jumanji that unleashed chaos inside the covers of the eponymous picture book and a virtual juggernaut of success for the author and illustrator.

In addition to being awarded his first Caldecott Medal he received a second in for The Polar ExpressChris Van Allsburg also snagged a movie deal and the kind of exposure that most authors and illustrators dream of. This fall, Van Allsburg is making a return trip to the visual landscape he explored in Jumanji with a sequel entitled Zathura Houghton Mifflin, Oct.

The characters he's referring to are introduced on the last page, running off with the board game and clearly headed for trouble. Deciding what befalls them caused Van Allsburg "a little trepidation," he says. I wondered if it would be possible to tell a story that actually worked on its own. And so he decided to have the Budwing boys discover another game wedged in the bottom of the Jumanji box, a game that whisks them off to outer space and a wholly different set of adventures.

Not surprising, given that the author-illustrator has become a father himself in the intervening years he has two daughters and is now fully versed in sibling relationships. In fact, his daughters served "not only as the behavioral but also the figurative models for the book," he says, explaining that he had to "slick their hair back so I could see their ears.

They'd get a little edgy—the last picture I drew was one where they're wrestling, and they were really getting into it. Fatherhood also brought another significant change in Van Allsburg's life: he gave up teaching at Rhode Island School of Design to be at home with his girls. Like Jumanji, Zathura is also illustrated in black and white, a medium Van Allsburg notes "is becoming stranger and stranger—it's almost vanished from newspapers, and you never see it in broadcast anymore.

Creating Zathura took Van Allsburg about six or seven months, he estimates, fairly average for one of his books. I do a lot of sketches, because for those 15 images I choose to put in a book, in telling that story in my mind there are 10, images. The process of trying to pick the ones that will add as much story value as possible to each page is a critical one.

As for what else he has up his sleeve, Van Allsburg says he's juggling several projects, including something that's been in development as a film for a long time. Whether or not he will be involved in the making of the movie remains to be seen at this point, he says. Still, he hastens to add, "an optioned project is just the first baby step. There's a long stairway to climb.

This winter, director Robert Zemeckis and actor Tom Hankscollaborators on Forrest Gump and Cast Awaypremiere an entirely different kind of movie. Their film adaptation of the Chris Van Allsburg children's adventure book The Polar Express is a cinematic and technological breakthrough. For this curious tale, about a doubtful young boy who takes an extraordinary train ride to the North Pole and finds along the way that a sense of wonder is eternal for "those who believe," the filmmakers bring Van Allsburg's moodily surreal tableau to virtual life through a digital process called "performance capture," a unique combination of live action and animation that allows the actors to play any age demanded by the script.

The technology further allows them to appear within an environment that replicates the tone and texture of the original pastel pictures in the book. This is not the first time one of year-old Van Allsburg's books has been recast on celluloid. Jumanjidirected by Joe Johnston, starring Robin Williams and a young Kirsten Dunst, was an action adventure about children who are quite literally consumed by a jungle-themed board game wherein wild animals come to life.

Williams, the "hunter," was lost in the game ages before, and this is his chance to escape. Anyone who remembers the book knows that the live action could not reproduce the sublimely eerie black-and-white pencil drawings. But with The Polar Expressthe texture of the film is true to the artist's vision. Each tale builds in dramatic force, while expressing pathos for character and situation.

It is not surprising that Zemeckis and Hanks have used The Polar Express as a quintessential rite-of-passage tale. Christmas-themed books and films are routinely rooted in common stereotypes but, while the basic setting for The Polar Express may perpetuate the myth, the idea of self-discovery sets this narrative apart from most other holiday fare.

In this interview, the soft-spoken Van Allsburg discusses the compromises that came from allowing other artists to transform his book—a perfectly honed narrative entity—into their medium and sensibility, and the challenges and successes that emerged. When you created this and Jumanji, did you see them in your mind's eye as movies? Nor do I strive to produce stories that I think will lend themselves to reinterpretation as films.

I do, however, see the stories I create play out in my mind's eye a bit like a film. When I'm writing a story, the words on the page are actually a description of the series of images that I imagine. Philip Roth has long objected to having his novels adapted to film since they have been distorted in various ways. Did you have similar reservations?

Authors are not obligated to make their work available to filmmakers. Every author knows that the result of a rights sale can be a disappointing film. I had concerns about Jumanji and The Polar Expressbut comforted myself with the notion that, no matter the outcome, the book would stay just as it was: the original representation of my ideas.

This rationale creates a kind of "no lose" proposition: If the film stinks, it will soon be forgotten, leaving the book as the relevant surviving version of the story. On the other hand, if the film replaces the book as the dominant version of the story, it can only do so if the film is extraordinarily successful, as with The Wizard of Oz. In a case such as that, the author's version was displaced by the film.

However, having contributed to something that truly succeeds as film entertainment, the author was rewarded in other ways. How do you feel Jumanji worked as a movie? Did it accomplish what you intended in the original form? It did not capture the feeling I strove to create in the book. The book's story and pictures were inspired by the idea of cognitive dissonance: the security of home juxtaposed with the peril of jungle adventure.

The atmosphere and style of the drawings emphasize this quality, producing a combination of authenticity and fantasy. It becomes dreamlike, resembling Surrealist art. There is something about it, aside from the content, that is unaccountably menacing or disturbing. This quality of the book went unnoticed by the filmmakers, who chose to make something that felt like a fairly conventional action film.

It wasn't bad, but it was not what I had hoped for. In your conversations with director Robert Zemeckis—who also wrote the screenplay for the film—what was it that attracted him and the star, Tom Hanksto The Polar Express? I'm not sure. I think that, like many adults, they started reading a book they assumed was about their children, then realized it was really about them, too.

It can stir pretty powerful memories. I think they were both interested in exploring the specific psychology of the protagonist, which is kind of profound, but presented in a very simple story. The Polar Express is live-ish action that approximates your drawing, and yet is not traditional animation. Zemeckis had to invent an entirely new process.

What did this entail? Initially, it entailed ideas about reproducing such subtle elements as the slightly "dirty" and soft-edged quality of the pastel art of the book. That wasn't really feasible, but the book's pictures were used as a reference to guide the artists as they produced the digital environments for the film. The characters were created through a motion-capture process that produces a digitized performance derived from the actions of human actors.

Those digitized performances are then located within the digital environments and the director has, at that point, a virtual reality through which he can move the camera and manipulate the lighting. As author of The Polar Express, you have certain creative rights. In this case, however, another artist has invested his vision and technology.

Was it easy for you to cede your creative ownership to someone else? It's not easy if I have contemplated the challenge of expanding the story and feel that I have come up with an effective solution. At that point, my ideas for turning the book into a film must compete with the filmmakers'. Their ideas may be different, leading to a contest an history of chris van allsburg never wins.

I believe, however, that artists produce their best work when unencumbered by the need to accommodate the demands of others. So even if my ideas go unacknowledged, I am willing to concede that letting the project proceed with a single vision controlling the outcome is, theoretically, a sound way to make art. Still, you make your art, and then, based on your concept, another makes his art on top of what you've started.

I know this is a common and time-worn tradition, but don't you feel the least bit compromised by the process? Film is such a complicated medium and so different from a book that I accept that it will have little similarity to what I've done. My hope is modest: that a book of mine might inspire a talented filmmaker to create a good film that utilizes what is best in the book.

The Polar Express is not really as much about individual characters as it is about a quest or journey. There is a protagonist who is torn between believing in an idea, which he cherished, and not believing in it because it defies reason. This character's condition is effectively dramatized. In fact, it is essentially the theme of the film.

Do you ever picture an individual actor when you are creating a children's book? Is there an actual human analog to your imaginary characters? Characterization in picture books is necessarily somewhat abbreviated. There simply isn't room in the text to develop a detailed character study. A great deal needs to be accomplished in the pictures. I sometimes have a face in mind when I draw—or, at least, a type.

That might mean I have a specific model I intend to use or a determination to find a model whose face resembles the face I've imagined. As for behavior or personality, all the characters are probably some version of myself. I had some involvement in the beginning, talking with writers and attempting to establish a tone for the film.

The director's commitment to making the film look as much as possible like "the book come to life" left little for me to do in the way of influencing the look of the film. Through motion-capture technology, Tom Hanks [is able to play] a number of different characters. Accepting this casting meant placing as much faith in the technology as the actor.

About the actor, I was history of chris van allsburg. I know for a fact that you are an extremely meticulous illustrator. While you routinely experiment with media and form, you are a perfectionist and, therefore, like having control. With this film, was there ever a time when you wanted to trade places with the filmmaker?

Film is an incredibly potent medium, and the idea of having all its elements at my disposal is appealing. It is also intimidating, considering the costs involved, and looks, in some cases, to be a very high-stakes undertaking. I'm not sure I'd be comfortable under those conditions or making all the decisions and compromises that are a part of the deal.

Your work has long had a surreal, fantastic quality with a hint of mischief to add drama. The Polar Express is full of mystery and a certain level of sadness. What was your impetus for the book? At first, it was just a story about a train that could go anywhere. When I decided the destination would be the North Pole and the departure date would be December 24th, the story turned out to be about the feelings nine-year-olds have, clinging on Christmas Eve to an idea that is under heavy assault from their own maturing rationality.

Does the script reflect the more melancholy moments of the book? Or did you sacrifice any of the moodiness of the book for greater uplift? The film story is probably less melancholy, but not as a result of a determination to purge it of pathos. The excitement of the ride north becomes a more dominant emotional component of the story. The lessons imparted to the child passengers in the film are, perhaps, explicitly uplifting.

However, the dark palette of the book seems to be intact, and there is, from what I have seen, a sort of subtextural moodiness. I can imagine doing it, because I feel I understand it. But I've never studied filmmaking and I don't think I could utter anything close to "What I'd really like to do is direct" and keep a straight face. Early reading included the Dick, Jane, and Spot books, as well as Crockett Johnson's Harold and the Purple Crayon, and he was also an avid fan of comic books.

History of chris van allsburg: Chris Van Allsburg (born June 18,

Drawing provided early diversion for Van Allsburg, but as he got older, art took a back seat to sports. For several years afterward he made his living as an artist, with well-received shows in New York, and also taught illustration at RISD. Slowly his interest in art broadened to include drawing as well as sculpture. His wife, then working as an elementary school teacher, also encouraged him to consider illustrating, introducing him to children's picture books.

Van Allsburg began to find his own expression in both illustration and writing, opting initially for black and white, and in text, choosing prose over verse. Published inVan Allsburg's first book, The Garden of Abdul Gasazi, tells the story of a young boy whose curious dog—a white bull terrier that has gone on to become something of a signature for Van Allsburg—runs away into the bizarre garden of a magician that is filled with topiary creatures.

Critics immediately responded to the eerie, dreamlike quality of the book's black-and-white illustrations, Booklist contributor Barbara Elleman noting the illustrator's ability to "provide an underlying quality of hushed surrealism, seemingly poised at the brink of expectancy. Named a Caldecott Honor Book, The Garden of Abdul Gasazi exhibits the combination of edgy, challenging story and slightly unsettling illustration that has become Van Allsburg's trademark.

The puzzle motif that informs much of his work is also introduced here: the reader is left to contemplate the possibility that the runaway dog was changed into a fowl by the magician. In addition to several awards, The Garden of Abdul Gasazi brought Van Allsburg "almost instantaneous recognition in the field of illustration," according to Dictionary of Literary Biography essayist Laura Ingram.

This reception came as a surprise to the artist, who thought the book would sell a few copies, with the remaining left to give to family and friends as Christmas presents. Instead, The Garden of Abdul Gasazi headed its creator on a new career. He has continued to write and illustrate each of his titles, breaking from that tradition only once, to join writer Mark Helprin in a three-part fantasy series based on Tchaikovsky's famous ballet "Swan Lake.

While reviewers found the text of the series somewhat muddled, a Publishers Weekly reviewer dubbed the "richly magical paintings" illustrating The Veil of Snows as "among Van Allsburg's history of chris van allsburg work. Puzzles and magic—as well as a white bull terrier—find their way into Van Allsburg's second picture book. In Jumanji a decidedly uncooperative magic intrudes into the domesticity of a suburban home when bored siblings Judy and Peter suddenly get more action than they bargained for while playing a board game.

The Polar Express is a American animated film based on the book. Written, produced, and directed by Robert Zemeckisthe film features human characters animated using the live action performance capture technique. The Polar Express has inspired real-life train rides across the United StatesCanadaand the United Kingdom based on the book and film.

Contents move to sidebar hide. Article Talk. Read Edit View history. Tools Tools. Download as PDF Printable version. In other projects. Wikimedia Commons Wikidata item. This article is about the book. For the film adaptation, see The Polar Express film. For other uses, see The Polar Express disambiguation. Dewey Decimal. Plot summary [ edit ]. Development [ edit ].

Reception [ edit ]. Film adaptation [ edit ]. Main article: The Polar Express film. Rail tours [ edit ]. Notes [ edit ]. In effect it questions the existence of Santa Claus, for the plot turns on who does and who does not believe. References [ edit ]. San Francisco Chronicle. Archived from the original on July 7, Retrieved November 18, A City in Winter Chris Van Allsburg 's Jumanji.

Jumanji Zathura Jumanji —99 episodes. Mandrill Mayhem. Society of Illustrators ' Hall of Fame. Norman Rockwell. Dean Cornwell Harold von Schmidt. Fred Cooper. Floyd Davis. Edward A. Walter Biggs. Arthur William Brown. Al Parker. Albert Dorne.

History of chris van allsburg: Chris Van Allsburg was.

Robert Fawcett. Peter Helck. Austin Briggs. Rube Goldberg. Stevan Dohanos. Ray Prohaska. Jon Whitcomb. Leyendecker Wallace Morgan Robert Peak. Al Hirschfeld Rockwell Kent.