No. 166: Toys In The Attic

Illustration by Tom Wills, August-September 2012

This is one of those, "Can you draw this?" episodes.
A photograph. Someone's photography class project, given to a friend years ago.
This study in contrasts came to me in a broken frame, which I repaired, for a co-worker who cherishes it.
"Can you draw this!" she persisted.

Original photograph by Bill DeVore

I really didn't know.
It's a little creepy, some of her cage buddies at work said.
But she saw the beauty of it, in the light and the dark.  The vintage dolls, the old suitcase, the woven rug in a dusty attic.
"OK, Jeanne," I said.

Here's how Jeanne Starmack, who will get this picture once I find a suitable and vintage frame,  tells it:

In the early 1980s, a young news photographer who was still in college was given a class assignment: Show a contrast between light and dark in a black and white photo. Looking for inspiration, he climbed the stairs to the attic in his grandmother's old house. 
In the dusty rooms there, the gray dimness faded into occasional pockets of darkness where old treasures rested, now forgotten as the family moved on to other pursuits. Looking around, he noticed a stream of sunlight persistently making its way through a narrow window, a dirty lace curtain sagging as if in shame at not being able to keep it out. In front of the window was an old stool that looked as if it had at one time sat before his grandmother's dressing table in her bedroom. On the stool were two of his mother's half-naked baby dolls; in an old suitcase on the floor nearby were two more. 

Framed!

The scene looked to him like a good one for his photo. But he needed more contrast. Searching around for something to use that would show up as light against the dark interior of the suitcase, he opened a closet door and found a newspaper. He propped it against the suitcase and got his shot. 

The young photographer did not get good feedback on his photo. The professor could not grasp the meaning of the newspaper. It is old, like the dolls, the photographer told him.
The photographer found that there were not many opportunities in journalism for him in the area where he lived. He didn't want to leave, soon marrying and raising a family in the very same old house, which he inherited from his grandmother. 

He eventually became a firefighter, and print journalism lost one more of many talents that have fled it as it lost its way through the decades, becoming less connected to its communities as it tried, but failed to stay relevant as society moved on to other pursuits. 

The prophesy from that young photographer of the early 1980s has come to pass. Old, like the dolls in the dimness of the attic. As darkness falls, the black and white will fade to black.

As a drawing, it's still a tough picture to photograph, because of the black lead. It turns to silver under the flash of light, reflecting back to the lens.  I tried photographing this from many angles, under different lighting and even in the dark.  I'm hoping one will make a suitable print for Bill DeVore, who captured these toys in the attic.

Dolls, above and below, in the unfinished drawing.

The drawing came together quicker than I had expected, probably because I was not drawing "real, human" close-up faces. The dolls really are not the focus of the illustration; the focus is the light and dark. That was the difficulty, especially the suitcase.  In fact I drew over the entire thing with a darker lead.  I just could not get it black enough.

As dark as possible.

So, what is it?
A commentary on the newspaper industry, where Jeanne and I and our creeped-out cage buddies go nearly every day?
A statement for preservation, keeping what we value through the ages?
Something to do with keeping things for no apparent reason yet never wanting to throw them away?

It is what it is. In any analysis, I have come to like it a lot.
It's like nothing I have ever done.
Thanks for pushing me, Jeanne. I hope you have a nice spot for it.

This illustration is not for sale.