THE HOLIDAYS are just a couple of months away...and it’s our extremely biased opinion that you couldn’t find a better place to shop for everyone on your list than right here at Art Kandy.
FOR CHILDREN AND INFANTS...and their families, of course, you can choose from exclusive, limited edition prints from classic characters and books -- like Goodnight Moon, Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, No, David!, Stuart Little, Charlotte’s Web and Curious George.
HARD TO CHOOSE from so much scrumptious artwork? Art Kandy is here to help! Call or write us and we can walk you through the menus in the Art Kandy gallery. We’ll let you know what’s new, which of the limited editions are almost gone, and perhaps even reveal a few surprises that are not posted.
LAYAWAYS...For your convenience, Art Kandy is happy to do layaways. You can write or call us and we’ll be happy to work out a plan that ensures the artwork you select is ready to ship for the holidays.Thanks for joining us here at Art Kandy. We hope we can serve you up some delights for your holiday season.
Occasionally, the universes collide.
Like a million kids of the fifties and sixties, I was seduced by Ray Harryhausen, spellbound in my theater seat, watching cyclops and centaurs, bold heroes and master villains, my Saturday afternoons indelibly drenched in fantasy. When I grew up, I couldn’t wait to introduce my son to the world of Harryhausen and he quickly became a fan, as well.
Along the way, my wife and I channeled our passions into a bookstore and a gallery of illustration art. One day, as the fates allowed, we were asked to host one of the first book signings in America for Ray Harryhausen’s biographical, illustration-laden opus, An Animated Life -- to be held just prior to a mini-festival of his filmed work.
Upon my first perusal of Ray’s book, I found my gallery owner’s eye caught by the stunning Dore-influenced production art that was reproduced in the pages. In addition to being the special effects avatar of my favorite fantasy films, Mr. Harryhausen was a distinctive and compelling illustrator, as well. I immediately had a cause: I wanted the world to know Ray Harryhausen as a true artist, that his production designs could stand alone and be appreciated as fine art.
Finally, the day came and the Genie and Master of Majick of my childhood entered our little gallery. Tall, genteel, dressed in tweeds, he was the very image of an English gentleman - despite his Los Angeles origins. I like to think we hit it off. Almost immediately, I began calling him “Commander” -- a title which I think he enjoyed; he certainly was deserving of that elevated position. When the opportunity arose, I began to drill him with questions about his artwork. Do you have the originals? Will you sell them? Can we do a show? Ray’s response was polite, but firm: he possessed all of his original drawings, but he did not sell them and furthermore, they almost never left his home in London.
I began to hatch a plot worthy of Sokurah. Perhaps...we could plan an exhibition and even allow a few of the originals to be reproduced as limited edition prints. Ultimately, Ray agreed: Come to London, he said and see what you want. That invitation, to the 12 year old inside of me -- the kid who spent an entire day at the Granada Theater in Chicago watching The 7th Voyage of Sinbad over and over again -- was the Golden Ticket or perhaps...the Golden Fleece.
I flew to London in the summer of 2005 and was graciously welcomed into the residence of Ray and Diana Harryhausen. After lunch and conversation, I followed Ray up an endlessly winding staircase to Ray’s fantastic workshop.
He took me on a life-changing tour of his models and artifacts -- the tiny armatures of dragons and dinosaurs that once roared off the screen were now quietly resigned to shelf-life in Kensington. As I stood in awe, Ray opened a closet, stretched his long body up and began to pull down boxes of artwork. Each was inscribed with the name of one of his classic films -- or one that had never come to be. I sat spellbound on the floor looking at one masterwork after another -- the drawings painstakingly created out of his imagination, the better to demonstrate to the Hollywood powers-that-be the movie he would make for them.
With extreme reservation and reluctance, Ray allowed me to escape with a clutch of his timeless art. I would have the pieces digitally scanned, we would create limited edition prints and make plans for an exhibit. That first show we did with Ray in Santa Monica was a tremendous success. Harlan Ellison had written a stirring introduction for our portfolio and the event was attended by many fans and friends, including John Landis, J.J.Abrams, Frank Darabont and Ray’s oldest friends, Forrest J. Ackerman and Ray Bradbury.
I noted that Ray’s English demeanor seemed to dissipate when he was with Forry and Bradbury. They became the giggling, mischievous teenage boys they had been growing up together three quarters of a century before - cracking each other up, oblivious to all around them.
Our gallery would continue to publish new signed, limited editions of Ray’s art and continue to host special events with Ray -- at our shop, at the Motion Picture Academy and at Comic-Con. I remember one warm afternoon in San Diego when Ray, being pushed in a wheelchair, got stuck on the train tracks. As we pushed and pried at the wheels of the chair, Ray got the chuckles. “Imagine the headlines,” he bellowed. “Harryhausen killed by train at Comic Con!” Needless to say, we moved the chair before the express came through. The world wasn’t through with Harryhausen yet.
Ray, so under-appreciated during his career, so modestly billed in many of the films he, almost singlehandedly created, lived to see his name above the title on those movies, to receive a Hollywood star, an Oscar and many other awards. To be appreciated as an author and lecturer and an illustrator of note.
Of course, some of us always knew who was behind the Hydra and Gwangi and the Ymir and all the others. Those of us who grew up watching. And for those of us who got to know -- just a little --the kind, gentle, welcoming force that was Ray Harryhausen, we are grateful he was here.
The universe of my childhood and the path I chose as an adult never came together more perfectly than in the person of Ray Harryhausen.
Art Kandy will be live in person at the fantastic Entertainment Weekly CapeTown Film Fest, April 30-May 6 at the historic Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood! John Carpenter, Leonard Nimoy, Edgar Wright, Neil Gaiman, Terry Gilliam, Kurt Russell, Brian Singer -- they'll all be there, along with our amazing exhibit of superhero, fantasy and film art. We're extremely proud and excited to be part of this super fan event. You can see a preview of our exhibit here -- including extremely rare Star Wars art from the legendary Bros. Hildebrandt. For more details and ticket info, visit the American Cinematheque website here.
Stan Lee -- an icon, a legend, a creative dynamo...the man who brought Iron Man, Thor, Spider-Man, the Hulk and so many other comic book characters to the forefront of pop culture. But who knew? An autograph session with Stan is not just business as usual; it’s a complete one man show. Of course, when Stan signs in public, there’s crowds, fans, flash bulbs, movie cameras,etc. When the great man is signing in a cavernous warehouse with an audience of just a few...well, that’s a different story.
I should note here that working with Stan Lee is more than just business for me. My first real contact with Stan was as a twelve year old fanboy writing gushing letters to “Stan & Jack” that were published in the back pages of Fantastic Four and Incredible Hulk comics.Many eons pass and when my son was but a lad, no surprise! He was a Stan fan,too. He proudly posed for a picture with Stan at the LA Times Book Festival one year.
So, it’s with great pride and privilege that our gallery was able to create giant reproductions of some of the comics Stan had more than a little hand in creating. As Stan told me when he saw our prints for the first time, “"I always felt what we were creating was art. It's fantastic to see it represented this way.”
When Stan arrives for the warehouse signing, he’s wearing one of his trademark Members Only jackets and as someone noted, “He’s the last member.” But he looks cool, ageless and energized. The signing goes on for hours and Stan’s determined to keep going, but he has to keep himself and the small team of workers entertained, right? He begins by offering succinct reviews on the curent flux of Marvel movies. The Avengers? “The best part was my cameo!” X-Men? “No cameo. They did that so people would come back and see it a second time. ‘We must have missed the Stan Lee cameo!’”
Still adding his signature, the man who inspired the entire comic book industry launches into a multi-layered tribute to his own classic inspirations. There’s Shakespeare -- no less than Julius Caesar. And not just Marc Antony’s “Friends, Romans, countrymen...” -- but Brutus’s speech, as well. “Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.”
Then he moves on to Edgar Allan Poe. “Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary...” Of course, you can find all of the drama, nobility and romantic notions of Shakespeare and Poe in Stan’s writings, too. That's what he brought to the comic page. But Is that all? He teases Kahlil Gibran -- “’A loaf of bread, a jug of wine’...ah, we’ll get to that next time!" he barks.
As Stan wraps up his signing session, he offers a jaunty song or two -- the standards, of course: he sings, “Pack up all your cares and woes...” in a fine baritone. Turns out Stan’s a scholar, a musicologist, a national treasure and a true renaissance man. He’s certainly an entertainer who has given us great fun, adventure and iconic characters for some 70 years. Thank you, Stan Lee! Excelsior!
The Marvel limited edition prints, signed by Stan Lee, are available on ArtKandy.com.
"There are a lot of unformed ideas – parts or ingredients looking for other ingredients, some that I’ve been thinking about for years. I’ve been working on a book about sibling conflict. That’s something that’s always interested me. I’m the younger of two brothers and I’ve always been aware of how that’s shaped my personality.
I’m interested in work which is just fragments. I’ve been trying to do a book a little bit like that. I like the feeling of discontinuity in a picture book and how powerful that can be. I just show a few scenes and let the reader do the work. I’ve only got one desk and I only work on one project at a time. I have trouble dividing my attention. I often have dreams in which I’m living in a huge mansion and I’ll say, “Oh, I’ll go and work in the west wing,” and then I don’t have to clean up! But in real life, I find it’s better to work on one project at a time. It’s hard enough to be an artist and to have a normal life. I try to keep it simple."
Shaun Tan's books include The Lost Thing, The Arrival, Tales from Outer Suburbia and The Bird King. You can find Shaun Tan's signed, limited edition prints right here at Art Kandy.
For most fans of children’s books, Maurice Sendak is the first name that comes to mind. Where the Wild Things Are, In the Night Kitchen, Really Rosie -- all classics and just a sampling of his enormous contributions to art and literature.
Most would picture him leaning over a drawing table, writing his prose or lecturing. For me, I picture Sendak being measured for a rented tuxedo in a shop on 3rd street in Los Angeles. Let me explain.
A number of years ago, Maurice Sendak was commissioned to design a production of Mozart’s Idomeneo for the Los Angeles Opera -- a bold and unusual choice at the time. The production sketches, paintings and many of the unused props became the centerpiece of an exhibit we curated for our Los Angeles gallery.
When Sendak arrived in town, he was perturbed to find that the reception for the Opera opening was to be a formal event and he had come ill-equipped. Calls were made and a local tuxedo rental shop could make it happen while we waited. It fell to me to take the non-driving children’s literature icon to be fitted.
Braving mid-city afternoon traffic and a cranky at best Sendak, we arrived at the shop. Unrecognized, he stood in the center of the shop, on public display, tailors surrounding him. He glanced over at me, fully aware of the ridiculousness of the situation. Gradually, Sendak’s identity was discovered by the clientele of the shop. One by one, they stopped to speak to him. He was a captive audience; there was no escape.
At first, Sendak managed a weak smile, but by the time the third or fourth fan was gushing, he had clearly had it. “Children must love you where ever you go,” one persistent woman told him. He stared her down and launched into a tale of visiting an associate’s home and meeting her young daughter -- who was sprawled across a floor, reading what just happened to be Where the Wild Things Are
“Are you enjoying that book?” Sendak asked.
“Um hmm,” said the girl, doing her best to ignore the stranger.
“You know,” Sendak told her, “I wrote that.”
The little girl stopped and for the first time, looked up at him. “Go f- yourself,” the little girl responded.
“Children are not impressed,” Sendak told the stunned woman in the rental shop. “Not by you, not by me.” The woman took a step back from the author and made a hasty retreat. Of course, Sendak’s apocryphal story summed up his characterization of children as possessing their own dark, cynical world. He would boldly continue to support that vision for the rest of his life.
The year after the Opera exhibit, we worked again with Sendak in creating “Freedom to Read,” a limited edition lithograph supporting an anti-censorship in books campaign. We held another series of events and exhibits and shared some memorable moments.
Thankfully, none of those events required formal wear.
RAY BRADBURY is nearing ninety, almost completely deaf and physically infirm, as he sits hunched over a tiny snack tray in the crowded den where he spends most of his day. The room is cluttered with innumerable stacks of photographs, papers, figurines, books and videos. The big screen TV is silent, but the images of a Turner Classic film noir illuminates the room.
I am here for the signing of the new giclee prints that we have created from Ray Bradbury’s original art. It is a moment almost beyond comprehension. From the time I was eleven or twelve, no writer was more important to me than Ray Bradbury. Growing up in Illinois, I knew the small towns that he wrote about in Dandelion Wine and Something Wicked This Way Comes. I knew those calm Midwestern exteriors could hold darkness and mystery. Especially at night. Later, I fell in love with the fantasy of The Martian Chronicles and the prophetic Fahrenheit 451.
“Over there!” Ray barks at me, pointing at one of the piles. I reach for an old picture frame wedged under some books. “Those are the photographs I took in Paris. We used to go every year.” As I study the dusty pictures, he orders me to reach into another stack. “I want you to see this. It’s the cover of my new collection, coming out this year,” he says. As I stare at the art of the vibrant, glossy sheet, I realize Ray knows what and where everything is in this tangle of ephemera.
As he painstakingly scrawls his name at the bottom of each print, Ray stops to admire his own work. “I painted this for the cover of my first book, Dark Carnival. I loved it, but the publisher rejected it.” In fact, it’s a rather poorly kept secret that one of the world’s greatest authors was always an accomplished painter and cartoonist, often creating works for family and friends. Not surprisingly, Ray’s surreal art style and primitive innocence was a perfect complement to the dreamlike and magical prose of his stories.
The original Dark Carnival painting was, for many years in the collection of Ray Bradbury's longtime friend, the late Forrest J. Ackerman. Eventually, it wound up in a farm house in Indiana. With the help of Ray’s friend and archivist, Donn Albright, the painting was located and digitally scanned for the first time.
The signing of the prints takes hours, frequently interrupted by Ray’s diversions into his own past: his life in Hollywood, his literary friends, his passion for the written word, the stories he is working on, the plays he is staging. Walt Disney, Charles Laughton, Steinbeck -- the names and places roll off his tongue. When we’re finished for the day, Ray Bradbury thanks me (!) -- for the beauty of the final product and stows away a couple of the prints to show his next guests. He tells me how much he loves our little illustration gallery and kisses me on the cheek.
I was fortunate to visit with Ray Bradbury several more times until just before his death last year and every time was like a visit to that old Colonel in Dandelion Wine -- the one they called the “time machine.” He had become the character he had written about as a young man: the old timer grandly imbued with history, art, passion and love and he was eager to offer it all to one awestruck visitor.