One morning when I was about 15 or 16 years old, I woke up to find a curious book with a black and white cover propped up on my yellow bench in my room. It was a gift from a dear friend of my parents who shared the same birthday as me and was always very fond of my artwork.
The book was a collection of work by the artist Aubrey Beardsley whose name would occasionally came up when people looked at my drawings. “Very Beardsleyesque” people would say.
Later some art directors would say the same thing. Sometimes it was said disparagingly and sometimes admiringly. Sometimes it was the reason I was called and sometimes it was the reason I didn’t get the job.
My sketchbooks are filled with black and white line drawings although not all of them “Beardsleyesque”. The style was my own but Aubrey was probably hovering somewhere nearby.
Illustration Promotion from another time and place…