"Prentenboek met 18 platen met geometrische gevormde figuren van een van de 'constructivistisch gerichte experimentele schilders' met plaatjes die gemaakt lijken 'met behulp van de tangramdoos' (S. de Bodt. Prentenboeken). Bevat onder andere gedichten en prenten over een vlinder, kippen, spreeuwen, een geitenbok, speelgoed, een varken, de sproeiwagen, een watermannetje, de vuilnisman, lammetjes, spelen met een tol, een interieur met zonnestraal, een kwikstaart, koe en schaap in de wei, een lezend meisje, regen, sneeuwpret en Sinterklaas."
(The Memory of the Netherlands)
Simon Franke (1927). "Gouden Vlinders" picture book illustrated Lou Loeber.
"Fashion photographer and filmmaker Jacob Sutton swaps the studio for the slopes of Tignes in the Rhône-Alpes region of south-eastern France, with a luminous after hours short starring Artec pro snowboarder William Hughes. The electrifying film sees Hughes light up the snow-covered French hills in a bespoke L.E.D.-enveloped suit courtesy of designer and electronics whizz John Spatcher. 'I was really drawn to the idea of a lone character made of light surfing through darkness,' says Sutton of his costume choice. 'I've always been excited by unusual ways of lighting things, so it seemed like an exciting idea to make the subject of the film the only light source.' Sutton, who has created work for the likes of Hermès, Burberry and The New York Times, spent three nights on a skidoo with his trusty Red Epic camera at temperatures of -25C to snap Hughes carving effortlessly through the deep snow, even enlisting his own father to help maintain the temperamental suit throughout the demanding shoot. 'Filming in the suit was the most surreal thing I've done in 20 years of snowboarding,' says Hughes of the charged salopettes. 'Luckily there was plenty of vin rouge to keep me warm, and Jacob's enthusiasm kept everyone going through the cold nights.'"
(Nowness, 16 February 2012)
[This dramatic clip appears to have been designed to target the audience of the new lifestyle magazine called "Nowness". The wish is presumably that the clip becomes a carrier for promoting the magazine's brand.]
"Treat is a loose collective of animators and illustrators, formed in 2008.
Many things have changed since then but not our love of making things move that aren't supposed to, e.g., Drawings, pictures, hearts, mountains, molehills, rock.
We've sprayed our work through TV, music videos, live visuals, installations and feature films. We like to illustrate as much as animate so that's another reason for us to exist, and we are happier for it.
We all have different ways of making so our work is an eclectic mix of styles that somehow fit together and help one another progress and vibrate into new and exciting structures."
"It begins with young Charles Kane in long shot, playing with his sled in the snow. The camera then pulls back to reveal that it has been shooting through a window. This effect creates a visual metaphor. The boy playing in the snow is not as free as he at first seems. Just as his image is suddenly confined by a window frame, so his life will be circumscribed by a decision that is being made for him inside the house. Kane's mother appears at the window calling out to her son to 'Be careful,' and 'Put your muffler around your neck, Charles.' As the camera tracks back, wards from the window into the space of the house, it reveals Mr. Thatcher standing at the right of the window. He says, 'We'll have to tell him now.' Ignoring this comment, the mother replies, 'I'll sign those papers now, Mr. Thatcher.' From frame left Kane's father appears, saying, 'You people seem to forget that I'm the boy's father.' The camera tracks backwards as Mrs. Kane walks over to a desk in the foreground of the image and sits down to sign the papers, with Thatcher seated next to her. An argument ensues in which the father, who appears in the middle ground of the image, strongly protests the mother's decision to hand his son over to a bank and threatens to take the case to court. The mother is icily adamant in honoring the agreement she has made with Thatcher. In exchange for the bank's full assumption of the management of the gold mine (the Colorado Lode), the bank which Thatcher represents will assume full responsibility for all matters concerning the boy's education and place of residence. Mr. and Mrs. Kane will receive fifty thousand dollars a year as long as they both live. This last bit of information, which Thatcher reads aloud, silences the father, who mutters, 'Well, let's hope it's all for the best.'
Throughout the scene, while all this activity takes place, we can see the boy Charles playing with his sled far in the back of the image, in extreme long shot, framed by the window pane, and totally oblivious to the momentous decision his mother has made about his life. Because of the length of the shot and the careful blocking of the action, our eye is free to focus on whichever player we choose, or our attention can wander from one player to another, as if we were spectators in the theater.
At the same time, the camera places us sufficiently close to the actors in the foreground of the image that we can read their expressions with much greater clarity than would be possible in the theater. We can look for clues in the frozen but somehow anguished expression of Mrs. Kane for why she is so determined to separate herself from her son. We can wonder in observing the slightly exasperated and nervous expression on Thatcher's face what kind of guardian he will make for a young boy. Or we can observe the father's angry, worried expression and wonder why he backs down. The father's position further back in the screen space makes him seem smaller than his wife and Mr. Thatcher, his diminished size somehow appropriate to his lack of power to influence his son's fate. The crowning brilliance of the scene is the tiny image of Charles Kane far in the depth of the screen space. Although the film is about him and in later scenes he will loom large indeed, here he is a tiny speck. On first viewing the film, some may not even notice him. But his understated presence playing outside the window, shouting 'Union forever' as his mother is about to send him off into the world without her, is one of the most poignant moments in film."
(Marilyn Fabe, 2004, p.85-86)
3). Marilyn Fabe (2004). "Chapter 5 Expressive Realism" in "Closely Watched Films: An Introduction to the Art of Narrative Film Technique", University of California Press (3 Aug 2004)