Since When Did Children’s Books Have a Museum? Interview with H. Nichols B. Clark
Founded in part by Eric Carle, the author and illustrator of more
than 70 books, including the 1969 classic The Very Hungry
Caterpillar, The Eric
Carle Museum of Picture Book Art, which opened in 2002 in
western Massachusetts, is the first full-scale U.S. museum devoted
to national and international picture book art. The museum's goal
is to foster connections between visual and verbal literacy. In its
three galleries dedicated to rotating exhibitions of picture book,
the Museum has had exhibitions on Avant Garde Russian Children's
Books, Leo Lionni, and currently the illustrations from the Wizard
of Oz. The Museum also provides a hands-on art studio, an
auditorium for performances and lectures, a comfortable library for
reading and storytelling, a café, and a museum shop stocked with
old and new picture book. In this interview, H. Nicholas B. Clark,
founding director, talks about the legacy of children's book art
and how a museum of this magnitude came to be.
Steven Heller: It seems that a museum like the Eric Carle Museum of
Picture Book Art is long overdue? Would you agree?
H. Nichols B. Clark: Absolutely. The Carle is the first
full-scale museum devoted to children's book illustration. Much
wonderful material is housed in libraries, so the good news is it
has been well taken care of. But the frustrating news is that these
institutions have limited, if any, exhibition space to provide an
arena for exhibition. Illustration has long been relegated to
stepchild status in the arts in America, so it was almost a
self-fulfilling prophecy that museums would not take it seriously.
Heller: How did the wheels get greased to create such an ambitious
museum?
Clark: Eric and his wife Barbara visited Japan in the
early 1980s and were surprised to learn that there were at least 20
museums in that country dedicated to picture book art. This
discovery planted the seed. It was not until the early 1990s that
they became really serious about bringing the dream to
reality.
Eric felt that he had done very well by publishing books and wanted
to give back to the industry, the publishers, the artists and
authors, the booksellers and the public. The initial idea was a
1,500 square-foot space that would go into an existing building.
Then the real pipe dream took hold, and the benchmark became
accommodating three school buses a day. This morphed into the
current 40,000 square-foot facility with auditorium, art studio,
three galleries, reading library and café comprising the public
spaces. Eric and Barbara provided the majority of the funding to
build the building and get the museum off the ground
programmatically. Penguin and HarperCollins publishers were major
donors.
Heller: Even though children's book art is, in some sense,
prescribed by editors and publishers based on what they believe
children want, there are many different styles, mannerisms and
approaches to it. Do you have a particular curatorial philosophy
about what should and should not be exhibited?
Clark: Coming from a background as an art historian and
museum curator, quality is the first and foremost criterion—and
that, of course, is highly subjective. There are Caldecott winners
that meet my standards, and those that don't. The work can be
visually complex or very simple, and each presents its own set of
standards. Like any discipline, there is bad, good, better and
best, and I hope that my sensibility tends to the top two
categories. Just because something is commercially popular does not
necessarily mean that it merits recognition in a museum (no
elaboration except perhaps Thomas Kinkade!).
Heller: You've focused on historical manifestations of
children's art. Is it your mission, so to speak, to develop the
historical foundation for this art form?
Clark: Part of what I have been trying to do is to honor
some of the grand masters of the genre while they are still
alive—so the major exhibitions have been skewed in that direction.
And yes, some of the more synthetic exhibitions (Russian, Artists
of Margaret Wise Brown) have been historical in basis. This speaks
to the desire to present a broad chronological spectrum of
children's book illustration. We do a lot of programming with
younger artists, providing the opportunity for our visitors to meet
and interact with them.
Heller: Children's art has been used in the past (and perhaps is
used in the present too) for educational purposes—sometimes good,
other times more dubious, as in ideological art in totalitarian
countries. You've exhibited Russian Revolutionary children's art.
Do you distinguish between good and bad?
Clark: The Russian exhibition
certainly provided a fascinating dialogue between the fortunes of
art as shaped by politics. To tell this story, it was logical to
exhibit art that may have been compromised, as it were, by
political dictates or dictators.
Heller: The evolution of leading Russian children's book creator
Vladimir Lebedev's career provides a powerful case in point; he was
forced to choose between his art and his life. Consequently, he
capitulated to political dictates and his art suffered for it—but
he lived.
Clark: In certain instances with Eric, we have the ability
to exhibit the art he rejected beside the final piece. It is very
important for the visitor to understand that the artist herself can
be dissatisfied with what she has created and out it goes.
Sometimes you have to display bad art to enable the visitor to try
to understand what constitutes good art.
Heller: Speaking of good and bad, how in a museum context do you
(or do you?) address notions of taboo? I remember decades ago Tomi
Ungerer did a book with a snake; prior to that snakes were
taboo.
Clark: I am not sure we have crossed that Rubicon yet! We
did exhibit the art from Jerry Pinkney's The Old African
(his most recent collaboration with Julius Lester), and we were
acutely aware that the subject matter was going to be more
difficult—not taboo—than what we had previously exhibited. We
created signs for the entrance of the gallery, and all my visitor
services staff was primed to alert visitors. We were very gratified
by the gratitude. The only really negative mail Eric has ever
received was about two very generic nude figures in one of his
books, Draw Me a Star. We had shown nudes on occasion
(Sendak to be sure), and I don't recall any resistance. On the
other hand, we have not set out to address a controversial issue
through the lens of children's book illustration—yet.
“Sometimes you have to display bad art to enable the visitor to
try to understand what constitutes good art.”
Heller: So many children's books have become icons of
sorts. What are the key components of not only immediate success
but longevity?
Clark: Quality; the marriage of text and image; and how a
book gets passed down through the generations. One of my daughter's
favorite books is Caps for Sale (she is now 21 and still
has me read it to her), so I was fascinated to read letter after
letter from parents to Esphyr Slobodkina about what a magical book
it was. Goodnight Moon succeeded despite Anne Carroll
Moore's dismissal. There is that magical quality that strikes a
chord and endures. Conversely, I think it is very telling that the
vast majority of “celebrity” books have a meteoric existence—with
emphasis on the crashing and burning—because they are trading on
fame and not the deep understanding of what it might take to create
a really good book (I'd see Lithgow and Curtis as notable
exceptions).
Heller: Your current exhibit deals with Oz. Is there something
about this theme that is the holy grail of children's art?
Clark: I guess Good versus Evil is
a pretty universal theme. The genesis was to celebrate L. Frank
Baum and W. W. Denslow's 150th birthdays and try to articulate the
evolution of the art of this remarkable book further enhanced, of
course, by the 1939 movie. Given its popular artistic appeal, the
exhibition also provided us with an opportunity to explore how
different artists interpreted the same idea.
Heller: As director, do you have a five-year plan regarding
what you want the audience to take away from the Carle
museum?
Clark: We want the visitor to leave realizing that the
Carle is about far more than Eric Carle. We want them to understand
before they arrive that we are not a children's museum, but the
next step in a journey of museum experiences. We want people to
realize that they cannot flunk museum-going. Sadly, too many people
think that appreciating art is a very esoteric science. On a very
basic level it can be a wonderful way for families to engage in a
fulfilling experience if they ask themselves three questions: What
is going on in this picture? What do you see that makes you say
that? And what more do you see? These ideas constitute the “Visual
Thinking Strategies,” codified by Abigail Housen and Philip
Yenawine, and are intended to help the beginning viewer of art find
a platform of engagement. This is exactly what we hope to do.
Heller: How do you feel you're doing given your goal?
Clark: We are making progress with the first two
assumptions [in the five-year plan above]. Making us “The
Carle”—like The Guggenheim, The Whitney, The Frick—will take time.
I do think that many people are grateful for the toolkit we provide
[the “Visual Thinking Strategies”], and the assurance that looking
at art is a subjective experience. We've also enjoyed a tremendous
response to our professional development programs, teaching these
issues as well as a more innovative way of reading books with
children.
That's the key—reading with rather than reading
to. The audience learns about the parts of the book, the
rationales for artistic design, and so on. It's pretty cool to hear
a three-year old talk about the gutter and the spine of a book—we
do honor the integrity of the finished product within our walls as
well.
“We are not a children's museum, but the next step in a journey
of museum experiences.”
Heller: What benefit is there in exhibiting children's book
art? Isn't the final product—the book—the real art? Aren't the raw
images simply components that lead up to the purpose and
function?
Clark: Of course. Yes, we are literally deconstructing the
book, but we are doing so to try to underscore that in most cases
the art can stand on its own. By honoring it in a gallery
situation, it does merit being let out of the cellar of disrespect!
This honoring is one of Eric's primary motivations for creating the
museum. So call us heretics, but I do think we are doing something
very important—not only for the art but for providing many, many
people who are nervous about looking at art with a very reassuring
entry point. People like what they know.
Fig. 1 Gipe gallery
Fig. 2 Lionni exhibition
Fig. 3 Lionni exhibition
Fig. 4 Lionni exhibition
Fig. 5 Lionni catalog
Fig. 6 Margaret Wise Brown catalog
Fig. 7 Oz catalog
Fig. 8 Russian exhibition
Fig. 9 Russian exhibition
Fig. 10 Russian catalog
Fig. 11 Shoul Museum Extension
About the Author: Steven Heller, co-chair of the Designer as Author MFA and co-founder of the MFA in Design Criticism at School of Visual Arts, is the author of Merz to Emigre and Beyond: Avant Garde Magazine Design of the Twentieth Century (Phaidon Press), Iron Fists: Branding the Totalitarian State (Phaidon Press) and most recently Design Disasters: Great Designers, Fabulous Failure, and Lessons Learned (Allworth Press). He is also the co-author of New Vintage Type (Thames & Hudson), Becoming a Digital Designer (John Wiley & Co.), Teaching Motion Design (Allworth Press) and more. www.hellerbooks.com