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me and Dan Britt made this, each frame was coloured in with pencils by hand. The audio is from The Shining.

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The Story Makers: Series 1: Berries and Beans

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It wasn't all plain sailing, though. The book nearly didn't get printed at all. After it was finished, Beneduce discovered a major problem: no printer in the US could handle the book's unique holes and binding challenges.

"I was determined to publish it," she told The Lion and the Unicorn journal. "It was very original. Eric was not a new [innovative picture book author and illustrator] Bruno Munari, but someone working just as inventively. I couldn't find anyone in the US who could manufacture this book, with all its ingeniously die-cut pages and irregular bindings."

While visiting Japan, she took Carle's book with her to show to Japanese publishers. One publisher, Hiroshi Imamura, of Kaisei-sha Publishing, liked it so much he agreed to print it. And so, thanks to Imamura, The Very Hungry Caterpillar made its debut on 3 June 1969, just weeks before Carle's 40 th birthday.

Carle's career, like his book's ravenous protagonist, had finally metamorphosised, echoing words he told German magazine Stern. "Like the caterpillar, a small and even ugly beast, you'll be big and beautiful one day. Your wings, or your talent, will unfold and you will fly into the future."

"Most people think it's easy to write a story for children, but this manages in a concise way to tell a story about life, and everyone gets it," adds Marcus. "The ending is: you grow up and it's worth it. It's like handing the baton: 'now go fly somewhere.'"
A previous version of this article stated that Eric Carle and his publisher had creative differences over the book. This was, in fact, an April Fool's joke that has been believed to be fact.

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The making of Eric Carle's The Very Hungry Caterpillar

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It wasn't all plain sailing, though. The book nearly didn't get printed at all. After it was finished, Beneduce discovered a major problem: no printer in the US could handle the book's unique holes and binding challenges. "I was determined to publish it," she told The Lion and the Unicorn journal.

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P.S.1 Contemporary Art Center presents Almost Warm & Fuzzy: Childhood and Contemporary Art, an exhibition that includes more than 30 American and international contemporary artists who address the relationship between childhood and art through intriguing and playful artwork. Initially organized by the Des Moines Art Center, the exhibition comprises some forty works, including paintings, sculptures, and installations. The works explore various views of childhood-a mix of innocence and nostalgia, comic-strip heroes and science fiction, fairy tales, and computer games.

Almost Warm & Fuzzy includes works by Tim Rollins and K.O.S., Tom Friedman, Takashi Murakami, Maria Fernanda Cardoso, Jeff Koons, Laurie Simmons, Kim Dingle, and Mike Kelley.

Almost Warm & Fuzzy presents various possibilities for inscribing the childhood experience in the work of contemporary artists. Many of the works in the exhibition explore how ordinary objects are transformed by the vivid imagination of children and how these faculties later influence our interpretation of art as adults. Sandy Skoglund's jelly-bean laden landscape Shimmering Madness and Tom Friedman's laundry detergent sculpture Untitled (Snow Angel) reflect the vivid sensations of taste, touch, and smell in childhood and how children (and adults) create fantasies out of ordinary objects.

For children the realization of reality is frequently as intriguing as fantasy. In The Big Sneeze, The Art Guys focus on the physical reality of the body and children's fascination with the gradual discovery of its functions. The gigantic nose sculpture duplicates the act of sneezing (including an explosive liquid and an audio component), graphically magnifying this common physical experience.

Childhood fantasy extends into cartoons and related media that play a dominant role in the lives of most children. Such imagery is not just entertainment, but in fact comprises much of their visual experience and their expectations about the world. As Takashi Murakami's balloons, Mr. DOB and Yoshitomo Nara's masks, The Little Pilgrims (Five Heads) suggest cartoons are double-edged: what is adorable and comical can also be strangely frightening.

Several works also address children's physical perception of the world. By playing with the scale of realistic objects, artists reflect on the mysterious and daunting feeling of being small. The adult-size chair at Laura Whipple's Tea Party and the giant boots in Daniel Oates So He Decided to Take (a Nap) are sympathetic, literal expressions of the obstacles that children encounter as they attempt to reconcile their own physicality with their surroundings.

The exhibition may appear whimsical, yet, a closer look reveals a subtly off-register feeling that is not completely "warm and fuzzy." Despite its innocence and pleasures, childhood can also be a time of transition and uncertainty. Mike Kelley's placement of a stuffed toy rabbit and pesticides on an afghan for Arena #11 reflects the elements associated with this tension. With each work that references the familiar, an undercurrent of awkwardness and uncertainty inherent in the transition from child to adult and the existing dynamic between the age groups is soon revealed.

Almost Warm & Fuzzy: Childhood and Contemporary Art was organized for the Des Moines Art Center by its director, Susan Lubowsky Talbott, and its former research curator, Lea Rosson DeLong. The exhibition is circulated by Independent Curators International (ICI), New York. Major funders of the exhibition are Suydam R. and Gerrit L. Lansing, Roberta and Howard Ahmanson, Greater Des Moines Foundation, Maddie Levitt, and the Meredith Corporation. Additional funding for the exhibition comes from The Bright Foundation, Commercial Federal Bank, Iowa Arts Council, and Pioneer Hi-Bred International, Inc., and generous contributions from Des Moines Art Center Trustees.

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Almost Warm & Fuzzy: Childhood and Contemporary Art | MoMA

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Exhibition. Feb 4-Apr 8, 2001. P.S.1 Contemporary Art Center presents Almost Warm & Fuzzy: Childhood and Contemporary Art, an exhibition that includes more than 30 American and international contemporary artists who address the relationship between childhood and art through intriguing and playful artwork.

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Andy Warhol illustration for The Little Red Hen (1958) made for Best in Children's Books, published in 1958
Courtesy Knopf Doubleday Publishers
© The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc/ARS, NY and DACS, London 2010

In his book The Elements of Drawing (1857), John Ruskin encouraged artists to try to recover what he called the "innocence of the eye", to represent nature with the freshness and vitality of a child, or of a blind person suddenly restored to sight. "A child sees everything in a state of newness," reiterated Baudelaire in The Painter of Modern Life (1863), "genius is nothing more nor less than childhood regained at will." Subsequently, many artists tried to scramble academic convention by embarking on experimental regressions to an imagined childhood state of visual grace. Monet and Cézanne, for instance, sought to re-create the Damascus moment, conveying a structured idea in paint of the sensory explosion of first sight. In 1904 Cézanne told Émile Bernard: "I would like to be a child."

An interest in children's art would seem a logical outgrowth of this empiricism, but it was only in the craze for primitive art in the first decades of the twentieth century that artists began to look at children's art seriously. In an attempt to purify art of its fin-de-siècle decadence, they looked to primitive cultures, considered in the condescending language of the time to be cultural throwbacks to the "childhood of man"; primitive art was often compared with the crude artwork done by children, who were praised as homegrown noble savages. Many of the century's greatest artists - Kandinsky, Klee, Matisse, Picasso, Miró and Dubuffet - had sizeable collections of artwork by children. They studied and imitated the spontaneous and wilful distortions of children's pictures as though, like dreams, they offered a royal road to the unconscious.

Consequently, modern art was often - and still is - dismissed with the cliché, "a child could have done it". As Jonathan Fineberg shows in The Innocent Eye (1997), far from being offended by such comparisons, Expressionists, Cubists, Futurists and members of the Russian avant-garde often played up the parallel and frequently exhibited their work alongside the art of children: in 1908 Kokoschka's work was first shown next to children's doodles; between 1912 and 1916 Alfred Stieglitz put on four exhibitions devoted to children's art at his legendary 291 gallery in New York; in 1917 and 1919 Roger Fry showed artwork by children at the Omega workshops; and the 1919 Dada exhibition in Cologne included infantile scribbles displayed next to artworks by Max Ernst and his colleagues.

Artists were not just influenced by the "primitive" nature of children's art, as if childhood were itself a dark continent that was completely other to them, but by the progressive educational techniques that some of them had experienced as children. The idea of childhood as a domain of innocence and freedom was an eighteenth century invention, stemming from Rousseau and Locke, who both wrote treatises on education (before then children were considered mini-adults). In Inventing Kindergarten (1997), Norman Brosterman argues that the pedagogical tools that were used for teaching creativity in the second half of the nineteenth century, which built on these romantic ideas, might be interpreted as laying the ground for geometric abstraction in art. He convincingly shows that the twenty beautiful "gifts", or art toys, used by the German educator Friedrich Froebel to teach children an appreciation of patterns and forms were the building blocks of modernism. Braque, Mondrian, Kandinsky, Klee, Le Corbusier and Frank Lloyd Wright all went to kindergarten schools and many of them explicitly acknowledged this debt.

As well as feeding creatively off children's art, aspiring to children's conspicuous lack of technique and supposedly easy access to the unconscious (so as to try to appeal to the inner child in all of us), many artists made artworks especially for children. In so doing they often sought to reflect back some of the ocular innocence and primitivism that they admired in child art. These creations - designed to be touched and played with, much as African fetishes were made to be used as well as looked at - are perhaps best considered as philosophical toys, like Froebel's gifts, rather than artworks: they taught an idea of art that valued spontaneous expression and play above everything else. Those toys that survived their owner's childhood games are poignant relics that embody the utopian expectations the avant-garde projected on to children.

In 1902 Paul Klee, looking for frames in his parents' storage, stumbled across a cache of drawings he'd done between the ages of three and ten. In a letter to his fiancée he described them as "the most significant [I have made] until now". He had just returned from four years of art school in Rome, but all his academic training seemed futile when faced with the emotional rawness of these early efforts. He included eighteen of the drawings in a later catalogue of his work, skipping over almost all the art he did in the interim years before their rediscovery. Works such as Girl with a Doll 1905, in which we see Klee in nostalgic dialogue with his juvenilia, were self-consciously executed, he acknowledged, "in a children's style".

In 1907 Klee had a son, Felix, and as he grew up he kept and displayed many of his "primitive" works; when people compared Klee's paintings dismissively with children's ("mad, infantile scrawlings", according to one reviewer), he would reply: "The pictures my little Felix paints are better than mine." Klee described the work of the Blauer Reiter (Blue Rider) group as returning to the "primitive beginnings of art" and celebrated the way these painters looked for authenticity and inspiration "in ethnographic collections, or at home in the nursery", just as he did. In Tent City with Blue River and Black Zig-Zag Clouds 1919, he copied almost exactly the bold outlines of one of his twelve-year-old son's paintings.

This chain of influence turns full circle in the toys Klee made for his son. These include ships, a train station made out of cardboard and 50 hand puppets, of which 30 remain. His creation of this grotesque cast - Kasperl and Gretl (Punch and Judy), Death, the Devil, a policeman, a crocodile - coincided with his first experiments with sculpture and, as with artworks such as Head Formed From a Piece of Brick Smoothed by the River Leche 1919, the puppets incorporate found materials: a horseshoe, a nutshell, a matchbox, an electric plug. Self-Portrait, for example, which shows the artist with huge eyes, a goatee and fur hat, is fashioned from two beef bones covered in plaster and clothed in a worn piece of grey cloth cut from one of the artist's old suits. The figure of the devil is made from a discarded pigskin glove, two fingers fashioned into horns, and has a brass hoop through its nose. In 1921, when the fourteen-year-old Felix became the youngest pupil at the Bauhaus, he performed satirical shows there with these puppets (he later became an opera director). His father made the backdrops, Felix recalled of the merging influences, from pictures "taken from the Blauer Reiter".

The German-American painter Lyonel Feininger, who was associated with the Blauer Reiter group and designed the cover for the 1919 Bauhaus manifesto, was also a passionate toy maker. His masterpiece was Toy Town, made for his three sons and added to every Christmas: "The time," he said, "for my periodic craze for making toys." It's composed of, in one of his sons' descriptions, "gothic, broken-backed, cramped and colourful, gable-fronted [buildings], with overhanging upper storeys, huge chimneys and steep roofs". This crudely carved Expressionist stage set, the houses of which are no more than a foot high, is populated by lumpen, legless wooden figures with knobbly faces and peg noses - a fisherman in a sou'wester with a huge pipe, two Jesuit priests with towering hats, a German policeman with spiked helmet, their expressions painted with the brutal economy of a skilled caricaturist.

"The toys an artist has fashioned may serve to gain an insight into the formal ideas of their creator," wrote Feininger's son. "The 'real work' of each one of them has a play-like grace and ease, and in the 'toys' we find enough seriousness to remind us of the gravity of children's play." Feininger's "excursions into the gamesome world", as his son called his toy making, not only offered his children tools for their imagination, but fed into the artist's "real work", serving as experiments in geometry, colour and space. Indeed, Toy Town is like a three-dimensional version of one of Feininger's paintings.

In 1913 one of the toy trains Feininger made for his sons so impressed a Munich manufacturer that he tried to put it into mass production (only the prototypes were built before the outbreak of war). A few other artists made toys for the mass market. The Uruguayan Joaquin Torres-Garcia, the founder of Constructive Universalism, designed a line of toys when he was a struggling artist in Paris after the First World War. In 1920, after he moved to New York, he set up the Aladdin Toy Company to manufacture his " juguetes transformable" - comic short-legged figures, candy-coloured houses, cartoonish steamships and a menagerie of animals that came as a jigsaw of pieces that could be stacked and mixed to create different modular forms. They were educational toys that echoed the abstractions in wood he was making at the time, rough-hewn versions of his friend Mondrian's canvases. In the 1920s Alexander Calder also designed a colourful line of rocking elephants and zebras, and seals and frogs that would move about as you pulled them across the floor. While few artists considered their toys part of their "real work", Calder was unashamed about the connections between art and play: he exhibited his circus in a suitcase, created in Paris between 1926 and 1931, alongside his wire sculptures and mobiles. There is a film of a 63-year-old Calder directing his kinetic sideshow, skilfully manipulating his 70-odd performers in a comic procession of toys: wire acrobats and tumblers, clowns, a crank-operated belly dancer, water-spurting elephant, lion tamer, sword swallower, lasso-wielding cowboy and knife thrower - each animated figure constructed with a witty, handmade charm. In Calder's big top theatre, as in all philosophical toys, we see the boundary between art and play dissolve: homo sapiens becomes what the Dutch historian Johan Huizinga dubbed homo ludens, "man the player".

According to Elizabeth Turner, in an essay on Calder's drawing manual for children, Animal Sketching (1926), which provided studies for his wire circus constructs, the artist was deeply influenced by the psychologist James Sully's Studies of Childhood (1896). In the field of revolutionary theory, Sully was one of the first to draw parallels between children's art and the art of "primitive" cultures: "May we not say that the impulse of the artist has its roots in the happy semi-conscious activity of the child at play, the all-engrossing effort to 'utter', that is, give outer form and life to an inner idea, and that play-impulse becomes the art-impulse (supposing it is strong enough to survive the play-years) when it is illuminated by a growing participation in the social consciousness."

In 1907, the year he first visited the Trocadéro ethnographic museum, Picasso made a fetish doll, with nail heads for eyes, for his cleaning lady's daughter. The young girl was apparently frightened by his austere, totemic gift. That year Picasso also traded a picture with his rival Matisse. The latter's highly schematised portrait, Marguerite 1906-7, was influenced by his observations of his six- and seven-year-old sons' drawings, and Picasso was, his biographer John Richardson remembers him saying, "very curious to see how Matisse had exploited his children's instinctive vision". Picasso also acknowledged how Matisse's portrait inspired the central figures in his primitivist masterpiece Les Demoiselles d'Avignon 1907.

Picasso was fascinated by children's art. He felt that his father, a professor of drawing, had prematurely pushed him into an academic style and he sought to regain the youthful exuberance that was sacrificed. In 1956, during a tour of an exhibition of children's art, Picasso told Herbert Read: "When I was the age of these children, I could draw like Raphael. It took me many years to learn how to draw like these children." There are several photographs of him observing his four children drawing, an expression of rapt attention on his face, and sometimes he indulged in collaborative doodles. "It's surprising," he said, "the things that come from their hands - they often teach me something." Picasso made hand-painted dolls for his eldest daughter, Maya, who is depicted holding one in his 1938 portrait of her. He would also fashion for Maya and his son Paolo clever little paper cut-out figures - on one occasion he made them clowns and commedia dell'arte characters that they could play with in a miniature theatre he created out of an empty Gauloises packet. In 1946 Brassaï photographed a selection of Picasso's whimsies for Cahiers d'Art: "Little birds made of tin capsules, of wood, or of bone; a thrush made of a piece of wood, a bone scoured smooth by the ocean, which Picasso had transformed into an eagle's head... numerous silhouettes, cut or simply torn with the fingers out of paper or cardboard, are a sheer delight. Usually, he used paper napkins or cigarette packets. Among the countless things are many animals: fish, foxes, billy goats and vultures; and also satyr's masks, children's faces and skulls."

In the late 1940s Picasso had two more children with Françoise Gilot, Paloma and Claude, and he made them similar toys. He whittled Paloma a series of wooden dolls from her building blocks. They stand to attention, like objects in an anthropology museum, their painted faces transforming them into chubby-faced skittles. Sometimes he used his children's toys as found objects that he ingeniously incorporated into his own artworks, as he famously did the toy cars his dealer gave Claude in Baboon and Her Young 1951.

Matisse titled his 1950s retrospective 'Looking at Life with the Eyes of a Child'. "The artist," he wrote, "has to look at everything as though he saw it for the first time: he has to look at life like he did when he was a child and if he loses that faculty, he cannot express himself in an original, that is, a personal way." Picasso's later work, informed by his study of his own children's art, was increasingly expressionistic, and he reinterpreted art history - making versions of Velázquez's Las Meninas 1957 and Manet's Le Dejeuner sur l'herbe 1960 - by imagining the canon as though through a child's eyes. His efforts attracted predictable criticism: in the 1960s John Berger accused Picasso of being "reduced to playing like a child... condemned to paint with nothing to say".

In 1983 Andy Warhol exhibited 128 paintings made especially for children at his European dealer Bruno Bischofberger's gallery in Zurich. Though they aren't toys in themselves, they are paintings of toys - their imagery taken from the boxes of vintage and wind-up toys he collected. Most of the silkscreen Toy Paintings - a drumming panda, an airplane, a parrot, a spaceship, a police car, a monkey and a helicopter - are composed of three bold colours, overlaid in such a way as to make it seem as though they should be looked at through 3-D glasses. They were also published as a Pop Art board book, and hark back to the artist's earlier career in the late 1950s as a children's book illustrator (he illustrated several volumes for the Doubleday Book Club).

Warhol's mini-museum, one big toy, was as much a playscape as the sculptural playgrounds Isamu Noguchi designed for New York and elsewhere. The Toy Paintings were exhibited as a small version of Warhol's 1971 Whitney retrospective, where electric chairs and Marilyns were shown against wallpaper depicting a field of cows that seemed to mock the viewer's cud-chewing ruminations. In Zurich he substituted the cows for a shoal of fish, which sparkle against a blue background and all swim, mouths open like windsocks, in the same direction. Adults had to squat down to look at the canvases which were hung at eye level for three- to five-year-old children. (An entry fee was charged for adults not accompanied by a child under six, the money going to a children's charity.) After he exhibited the toy series, Warhol began collaborating with Jean-Michel Basquiat on a series of canvases. Apparently Bischofberger had the idea for this partnership after his four-year-old daughter worked with Basquiat on a painting, Untitled 1984. When asked which artists he admired, Basquiat said: "What I really like and has influenced me are works by three- to four-year-old children." (One of Warhol's earliest self-portraits, The Lord Gave Me My Face, But I Can Pick My Own Nose 1948, is also deliberately childish: he sticks an Art Brut finger up at painterly expectations.) In one of the joint works Warhol did with Basquiat, as if in reference to this fact, Warhol included a spaceship from the toy series.

In 1983 Basquiat hired an eight-year-old, Jasper Lack, who he paid twenty dollars a day to paint motifs in his paintings: a rocket-like Empire State Building and a fishing rod with an oversized hook. Basquiat, like all the avant-garde artists who had been absorbed by children's art, could only emulate the unselfconscious naiveté of children, which was no match for the real thing. In 1986, at his exhibition at the Mary Boone Gallery, Basquiat introduced Lack to Warhol as "the best painter in New York".

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Through the eyes of a child: Art Toys - Tate Etc | Tate

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In his book The Elements of Drawing (1857), John Ruskin encouraged artists to try to recover what he called the "innocence of the eye", to represent nature with the freshness and vitality of a child, or of a blind person suddenly restored to sight.

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2 COME ON IN, WE'VE BEEN EXPECTING YOU

such beautiful, desperate weapons

so we didn't fall in love

with the self-same wretchedness

a worryingly familiar scene

we've lived in will live in

being told, regurgitatingly, "you only get one shot!"

when you get a loaded magazine

which I picture in Arizona, right

are there edges, Bobby?

to test the power of names

by naming things, for one thing

to name is to guarantee the end

I can't tell the difference

every time someone lifts my flap

the sanitary products are standard

with various forms of filth

like getting wrapped in a dog towel

and buried in the hardening ground

under the Canadian maple? Do dogs

like I did when the vet injected

deep pentobarbital & his bowels

ejected across the floor tiles

to inhale his fur and weep

of talking about feelings

has fooled each one of us

when there are fewer words around

up my nostrils

throw me in there with him everything is

goes into making sex alluring sex

but it seemed, for a moment, that a new

with a slobbery insistence when

we were retching with so much desire

we created a whole new atmosphere

using the sick bag to be actually sick in

now the shower curtain is transparent

it's a way of saying, "I want you too

so that we are more alike

like a sign that life struck once

in a slippy-bits marathon

that began when our eyes were magnets

yanked to each other's fully-charged

to make every enhancement

to our 'connection' by getting seriously indecent

beside the Bluetooth wireless speaker system

until even the trees had to dash inside

to pour ice in their underpants"

while I choked up playing the scene, as we lived it,

united by our pursuit of arrhythmia or

satisfying itches to that

catchy bridge section in Chopin

with Chopin through his melancholic meadow

(not that I approve of background music

(I prefer to foreground the piano

by massaging it loud and all over

until the top layer comes off in my hand

and the pedal squeaks for humanity

(I like to FEEL a piano as an instrument

of interruption and consciousness

(though I also like to take light swims, to get away

from what I FEEL (today I felt

jelly beans resemble kidneys))))))

which throbs like everyone grieving

said the Russians to the French

but mostly the dog's image the image

except we never seem to run out of images

sometimes something in an image

runs through me and that is very common

as is reading about something

that's happening to someone outside of me

until I know someone outside of me

it is a test for my knowledge

to hang around until morning

practically all mornings are news to me

practically all knowledge is news to me

practically all news is images

going very fast around the world

so we have to guzzle them

in one end and squitted out the other

[ pics or it didn't happen]

until I'm fat with implications

and containing not a sausage

dog-meme as much as the next crybaby

when the gifs load automatically

becomes the shape of 2:13 p.m.

if we accept the world as totally fucked

there's a lot worse coming

than dog hairs in macaroni cheese dog hairs on pillows dog hairs in rented flats in bathtubs in my hair in my dog's hair in your short & curlies between my teeth in coagulant soap bars

what if he did lick my cheeks

by which I mean "buttocks"

which were coated in whipped shea butter and

it's obvious he's related to a father

because we found all his needs

into a kind of inter-species loyalty

or the usual master-slave hierarchy

before laying down the crisp breakfast bowl

which gave us carte blanche to rush in anytime

and smother him with kisses

without getting socked in the eye

(unlike when I tried the same on Johnny (who spat my tongue out

when maybe all he wants is

very well known after its termination

it means there's somebody who needs it.

and deems any speckles of life unusable

of trashed bodies shoved down there

dressed in made-up relationships.

What's your favorite part?

with a maggot in it. Maggots

mean that life's still leaking.

so he might as well be invisible.

It's like magic when he isn't

and doesn't have anything to say

and I can't bear to listen anyway

so I just recognize my fingers / all

the injuries they've inflicted

while my skin drops off.

What's worse than a maggot

Does the 5-second rule apply

to something that drops dead?

Is it true he might come back

blue alcopops, bombay mix, karaoke, and a pint of nostalgia

which is like thinking in another language,

I mean, how it feels, not what it means.

Half a maggot, the memory of

mange marching across his fur

describes a lot of other feelings

the feeling that someone else is taking up the whole room

the feeling that no one could help me now

or ever whether I was on several edges

my hot core and noggin facing this hammering world

of brainlessness and sweetbreads

was always a favorite word.

I don't know what it tastes like but I know it's terrible.

that all I can do is literally slam

my hands / head / breasts against the keyboard.

corpses there are maggots.

If we dig him up will he be wearing a jacket?

for the milkier, gentler solaces

which for all we know for all we know

or Chopin's noise (still hammering the background) -

who's seen it? Only its aftermath

is visible what's not visible

is the aftermath of my screaming

carting sensations to the center

mopping shit up with towels

(there are feelings for these things)

bodies leak it's no surprise what I give away

you can have when the vet twirls off to deal

with some bloody business in a kitchen

the hug-a-corpse scene gets deep in

is what I've not yet been

of dogs which smells like

in at the edges.

Full as an ice cube is full of liquid.

I mistook it for solidity.

The world is too full of smells.

they crawl between my legs

pocket-friendly air fresheners

strikes on our nostrils.

They come at me streaming.

the dog? Was it only a dream

for his unique aroma.

but it places you somewhere

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From "more flinching" by Heather Phillipson | Poetry Magazine

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2 COME ON IN, WE'VE BEEN EXPECTING YOU such beautiful, desperate weapons so we didn't fall in love with the self-same wretchedness a worryingly familiar scene we've lived in will live in being told, regurgitatingly, "you only get one shot!" when you get a loaded magazine which I picture in Arizona, right are there edges, Bobby?

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Heather Phillipson is a member of Vimeo, the home for high quality videos and the people who love them.

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An internationally exhibiting artist as well as a poet, Heather Phillipson received an Eric Gregory Award in 2008 and has since published three books of poetry: a pamphlet with Faber & Faber in 2009 (part of the Faber New Poets scheme); NOT AN ESSAY (Penned in the Margins, 2012); and Instant-flex 718 (Bloodaxe, 2013), which was shortlisted for the 2013 Fenton Aldeburgh First Collection Prize. In 2014 she was named one of twenty Next Generation Poets by the Poetry Book Society. As an artist, her recent and forthcoming solo shows include the Istanbul Biennial, Performa New York, Schirn Frankfurt and the Whitechapel Gallery, London.

In Phillipson's video, sculpture and audio-works, she frequently employs and remixes live and recorded speech, song and other vocal noises, and the substance this practice can lend the voice - as both a distinct entity and a chorus, containing multitudes, and alert to profuse doublings, slippages and equivocations - is likewise palpable in her poetry. In Phillipson's poems, this is a mind operating as a receptacle for the barrage of voices (verbal and visual) to which we find ourselves subjected, daily - 'Duct tape, crude oils, minerals + multi-vits!' - a reinvigorating of colloquial and 'trash' language which allows our means of meaning-making to be playfully confronted and questioned: 'Who am I trying to kid? Excuse me while I peel my banana', she writes in one poem, or in another, 'I don't know what I need. I need to get out of these wet leggings and into a dry Martini'.

If Phillipson has a talent for the deadpan one-liner (and by the way, she is very witty), her poems are also playing a longer game; their abundance of images, phrases and emotions build towards a sense of cosmic overwhelm, of human consciousness operating at the highest pitch. As Carol Rumens has noted, Phillipson's poetry is 'slangily alive', demonstrating 'a ranging, doubting, self-delighting, word- and idea-packed intelligence'. This energy and dynamism is made apparent not only through content but also visually (as, to use W. N. Herbert's phrase, 'befits a practising artist') - typographically - through her skilful use of punctuation styles not widely used in mainstream poetry, such as caps lock, exclamation points, frequent full stops (or the opposite), and so on, an approach which can lend the poems the frenetic, seductive quality of Pop Art, though this is not to detract from their intellectual rigour.

Chris Emslie in The Edinburgh Review has described Phillipson's work as 'fizzy reportage', remarking that '[her] poetics are manifold, and her poems an amalgam of every material the world throws at her', while Dai George has called her 'generous and humane', quotations which seem to underscore a politics at the heart of Phillipson's work, its spirit of non-hierarchical enquiry which strives to take into account 'the whole planet', occasionally 'wondering if I've really considered EVERYone else's feelings'.

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An internationally exhibiting artist as well as a poet, Heather Phillipson received an Eric Gregory Award in 2008 and has since published three books of poetry: a pamphlet with Faber & Faber in 2009 (part of the Faber New Poets...

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Heather Phillipson, 100% OTHER FIBRES, 2016, excerpt from 5-part, 12-screen HD video

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Original Format 35mm, Digibeta
Year of production: 2001
Duration: 8mins 12secs

Camouflage explores the experience of children growing up with schizophrenic parents. Based on extensive research and personal testimony it compares a personal account with the experience of others, using interviews, drawings and animation, live action and digital composition.

KEY CREDITS:
Director: Jonathan Hodgson
Producers: Jonathan Bairstow, Clare Spencer
Sound Design: Jonathan Hodgson
Production Company: Sherbet

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Film by Allison Schulnik * 2019 * 3:15min
Gnossienne No. 1 * written by Erik Satie * Performed by Nedelle Torrisi 
**************************************^******************************************
MOTH is a traditionally animated, hand painted, gouache-on-paper film.  It is animated mostly straight-ahead, with frames painted on paper almost daily for 14 months.  The film seeded and bloomed from a moth hitting my studio window and continues as a wandering through the emotions of birth, motherhood, body, nature, metamorphosis and dance.  

MOTH Copyright Allison Schulnik 2019

Analog. All human made. No digital effects.


www.allisonschulnik.me

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Part of the "Embodying Voice" workshop completed in my first term at the Royal College of Art.
Creating a piece of lip sync and character animation to a voice from an archive.
Hand Drawn coloured pencil on paper

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Inherited opinions. Inherited isolation.

A short film depicting a Dad's influence on a young boy's life. His judgmental character mixed with the boys fondness for his dad prove to be a toxic mix that tears away at a world of opportunity and experiences.

My Graduation film from the Royal College of Art 2014.

For more info and news about the film go to: marcusanimation.co.uk/My-Dad

Awards:
BAFTA 2015, Nomination for Short Animation
Annecy International 2015, Graduation Cristal
Encounters 2015, UWE New European Talent Award
London International Animation festival 2014, Best British Film
The Smalls Film Festival 2015, Best Animation
Clermont Ferrand 2014, Special Jury Mention

Directed/written/animated by Marcus Armitage
Additional Animation by Jonathan Long, Diana Gradinaru and Noriko Ishibe
Voice by Divian Ladwa divianladwa.co.uk/
Sound Design Laura Jane Stacey
Sound Mix by Mike Wyled
©Royal College of Art 2014
Supported by the Nat Cohen Scholarship

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Original format: 16mm
Year of production: 1983
Duration; 6mins 2secs

Made while studying Film and TV dept at the RCA. Based on sketches made in Liverpool drinking clubs. 
The film observes human behaviour in a social situation, hinting at the loneliness felt by the individual lost in the crowd.

KEY CREDITS:
Director: Jonathan Hodgson
Production Company: Royal College of Art
1983

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Roobarb, When Custard Got Too Near The Bone

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A man takes his dog for a walk in the park where they encounter other dogs and their owners. The film explores the relationship between a man and his dog highlighting their contrasting approaches to life.

Original Format: 16mm
Year of production: 1981
Duration: 6mins 39secs

KEY CREDITS:
Director: Jonathan Hodgson
Producer: Jonathan Hodgson
Sound: Jonathan Hodgson
Production Company: Liverpool Polytechnic

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A man takes his dog for a walk in the park where they encounter other dogs and their owners. The film explores the relationship between a man and his dog highlighting their contrasting approaches to life.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
A man takes his dog for a walk in the park where they encounter other dogs and their owners. The film explores the relationship between a man and his dog highlighting their contrasting approaches to life.

Original Format: 16mm
Year of production: 1981
Duration: 6mins 39secs

KEY CREDITS:
Director: Jonathan Hodgson
Producer: Jonathan Hodgson
Sound: Jonathan Hodgson
Production Company: Liverpool Polytechnic

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
A man takes his dog for a walk in the park where they encounter other dogs and their owners. The film explores the relationship between a man and his dog highlighting their contrasting approaches to life.