posted: April 23, 2013

I posted this piece on Facebook and after a few days it occured to me that I really should have posted it to Drawger first. Why? Because here we have an opportunity to discuss process, back story, detail, get more personal in the proper context. Though nothing is private, fine with that.
On the day after the senate decided to do nothing about guns in America, not gun control, guns in America, I went about my routine, saw a lot of blowback on FB, decided I needed to do some more personal work, and the only way I seem to know how is to do editorail art based on stuff that drives me nuts. Guns in America drives me nuts. So I went out walking, I sometimes do this in the early morning just to get my aging body moving, ready for the day. The beginnings of this idea came to me then. It may have been that I had a lot of work to do that day and I wanted to get this personal piece out quick, just to the point, I had a capitol building already. What could I do with that?
So I hastily put together the first image. The way I work things just evolve, I scrap detail, scrap some more, move this, move that. Rarely I get a spark of some kind, got one here, tried to figure out how to make it work, what to leave in, take out etc.
So I posted the art on FB, got lots of response. I had an appointment to have some spinal injections that day. This is important because people need to know about our crazy deadlines, especially the one day Times deadlines. Waiting to be admitted I get an e-mail from Alexandra Zsigmond from the NYTimes letters page saying she saw the FB piece and asked if I had any similar art about the gun issue. Why yes I do but would love to use this piece, so we agreed that I would rework it a bit to make it the Times' piece, different format as well. I cautioned though that I was about to go in for a procedure and if she didn't hear from me in two hours to go another way. Thankfully my treatment went well, got back to my studio with a couple hours to spare and set about reworking it. Some may not see much difference, I see lots, the details on the ends of the bullets, one bullet yet to be loaded, angle of the gun to fit the format, but makes more sense as that's how you load.
I appreciate all the attention I received for this, fact of the matter is I think I have a long strange history of ideas about firearms, mostly adult reasoning but partly due to some childhood memories. My father was an FBI Special agent when I was born. I recall him bringing home those targets and empty shells. I think at that time I was fascinated, this is my dad, a G man. I'll end the story there but sufffice to say, guns are very dangerous. FBI agents are supposed to have guns, I'm cool with that, soldiers and police. It would be a lie if I said my own personal tragedies didn't color my view of guns, they do, and is certainly a factor in how I am drawn to comment on the tragedy I see today. I think hunting is a reasonable thing to do, and would like to learn some day how to hunt properly. I am however not comfortable with ordinary citizens having whatever firepower their hearts desire or skewed sense of entitlement thinks they deserve.

posted: December 31, 2012

Happy New Year!
 www.harrycampbell.net.
Peace.
HC

posted: December 19, 2012

So I've been developing some images around this latest unspeakbale tragedy. This one like no other, and I know I'm not alone, has just infected my soul. I can't understand it, I'm angry as all hell, I can't imagine the grief of the parents, the surviving family members, brothers, sisters, it's too much. I've devoted myself to continue thinking on this and developing images, venting my anger, my shame, my hurt. I want to look away, I can't watch the news of the funerals, I want it to go away, but more than that I want to keep the focus on the insanity within our society, this culture of guns, hate, irresponsibility, every day, even if I only get 12 sets of eyeballs on FB, fuck the news cycle.
Some may think these are in bad taste, too soon, too contrived, hopefully too painfull, too dark. People are grieving and you're making pictures. Well, I've never felt more of a need to try and put thoughts to images.
The first piece, the bus, was done as I was waiting to take my son to the bus on Monday morning. Our bus stop is so great, probably identical to thousands across the country, a line of energetic 6 to 10 year olds, groggy or chatty parents clutching coffee mugs. I love the routine. That morning, Monday, I let my wife take Rowan, I just couldn't bare to stand there as if nothing was wrong. I imagined all those kids in our neighborhood being dead, that bus stop being empty and silent, the parents at home wrapped in a cloak of unimagineable grief, and I imagined the bus as a hearse. Personally I don't think I could go on. How does one do that? I've said this elsewhere in the past few days that I just stare at my eight year old, I imagine those other children, what those bullets did to their soft little bodies, the fear they experienced before they died. These are the places we don't let our minds go to, it's too horrific. I say keep your minds there, I say make this country stare at this long and hard, don't let it get lost, not this time. I am ashamed for my country but thankful fo the like minded friends that share it, but I can't say I'm hopeful. I am so unbelievably angry at the irresponsible gun culture and those that embrace it. Shame.

Day-11-Beacon

I've been trying to refrain from adding my clumsy writing to any of these works, they (should)speak for themselves, but this image requires a bit of a back story. If you continue on then you have my appreciation for taking precious minutes from a busy Christmas Eve with family.
I was at a loss for images that would feel appropriate for Christmas eve and Christmas day. I didn't think it fitting or respectful to make some sort of political statement on these days as the families of victims gather for the holiday. I can't imagine their loss, having bought presents for children now taken from them, and so I'm trying to direct my thoughts to hope and peace.

These tragedies like the Newtown massacre touch us all, we don't know the victims, we can feel their pain, but it's indirect, we can only imagine. But the degrees of separation are probably not that great, and that separation will likely shrink if things don't change. 
My good friend and fellow illustrator jonathan, brilliant painter, ex studio mate, had a few years back moved to the quaint town of Camden Maine, one of my new favorite places. His niece (name withheld) was one of the first victims of the Virginia Tech shooting, I believe she was nineteen. I had met her once about five years earlier at Jonathan's house in Cockeysville, MD, at his wedding celebration. She was there with her sister and had expressed great interest in my silly little convertible sports car that I had at the time- and asked to go for a ride. I reluctantly obliged-and so there I was driving around the Maryland countryside with a thirteen year old girl in a little silver sports car, yah I know.
Anyway, I think it made her day, and for that I was happy. Fast forward a few years later when I get an e-mail from Jon a few days after the VTech massacre-I schedule a trip to Maine to see him. His son and my middle son Evan are the same age and used to hang out when they lived in MD.
In the weeks before the trip Jonathan sent me pictures of a project he was working on, a sign of some sort, made of hand cut sheet metal, a marquis, the word HOPE in three foot marquis style letters. I should add that Jonathan is an incredible craftsman, impeccable attention to detail, surpassed perhaps only by his father- who had recently moved to Camden, an ex submarine commander, it was his niece who had died in Virginia.
So the two men created this sign that is mounted on the side of Jonathan's barn. It's fitted with large bulbs, not small twinkly lights but hardwired individual bulbs just like an old movie theatre marquis. 
When I got up to Maine and we talked Jonathan described this feeling of hopelessness in the face of such loss, you can't understand it, it's sudden, and he just felt he needed to do something. I think the sign gave those guys something they could see and touch that made sense, doing something that made sense to them.
He described how when he got the call and even well into the long drive south he just kept saying "who?" "who died. what?".
So this is the way I recall seeing that sign. The town is very sleepy in the off season when the crowds on there way to Acadia have subsided. The sign however is on a side street, it's a very quiet scene, just a little illuminated whisper to the heavens-"hope" or maybe "help".
So Merry Christmas to all of you and your loved ones. Let's change this place in 2013.

posted: November 17, 2012

I just came back from jurying the Advertising and Institutional categories for the Society of Illustrators. Such a great honor not to mention a great time, hanging out with my fellow jurors and friends. I love the Society of Illustrators, it's a special place. I had been on the jury of the student competition but this was my first for the professional show, quite an eye opener, such great work that it's no wonder even"good" work gets left out. Decisions have to be made.
I had two pieces accepted into the show, one in book and one in editorial. This piece Three Days to See was chosen for editorial, my cover for Triburbia was chosen for book, that's two awards for Triburbia. I entered other work that I felt stronger about or just as strongly about, but the choosing is a mysterios process and I'm happy to be included at all, an honor.
 
The above piece was done for Readers Digest to accompany an essay written by Helen Keller. I gave this assignment to my students last year, after I resolved my solution of course. I gave them several essays to choose from, one was about being kidnapped and buried alive, most chose that one.

A few roughs for the Helen Keller piece. I guess the first rule of thumb is avoid the obvious, come up with an idea that doesn't involve an eye, or glasses, a cane, etc. My students drew lots of eye concepts, you can't blame them.

Upon returning from New York I generally find myself both inspired and humbled, inspired by the people I meet, and the friends that I see too infrequently, humbled by the incredible work and drive of my contemporaries, and those kids. So I got busy with some personal work, something I do from time to time, nothing ever gets finished, they're kind of like experiments, exercises, artistic calasthetics. I've been wanting to go back to actual drawing as opposed to working directly in Adobe Illustrator, possibly a way to work out some of the figurative and more organic things I want to explore.

As I said the second piece accepted was my book jacket design and illustration for Triburbia. This has been shown before as it was also in American Illustration. I'm getting a bit tired of looking at it but it does represent a direction I want to explore, more narrative work, maybe a graphic novel of some sort, but oh the time needed for that. So I explore a bit.

I'm doing more along the lines of this stuff, submitting a few narrative pieces for New Yorker covers, things like that.

The other aspect of the Triburbia cover is the design component, the constructed title treatment. I spent a lot of time in NY as a designer, I've always loved the marriage of design and illustration. Something else I need to explore a bit.
Onward.