This year I knew I wanted to participate in the Folktale Week illustration challenge, which ran from the 23rd to 29th November, and consisted of a set of seven word prompts which participating illustrators then interpret and put their unique spin on. Having seen so many captivating illustrations popping into my feed when I first discovered it last year, I felt instantly drawn to the idea of weaving aspects of old folktales into my own illustrations.
The dark, mystical and magical nature of folktales has enthralled me since childhood. I remember, as a young child, having a huge anthology of the Brothers Grimm stories, which I would pour over for hours alone in my bedroom, and repeatedly watching the wonderful Jim Henson “Storyteller” series (on a tired old VHS tape!) which recreated folktales from around the world using puppetry and the magic of TV (yes, I was an eighties kid!) Those hooded characters and magical beasts have always been part of my inner storytelling landscape and so Folktale Week seemed like the perfect vehicle to bring them to life through my own visual vocabulary.
So, I made my announcement post…
Eek, well there’s nothing like an announcement to seal your commitment, no going back now! I fell in love with these darling fairy mice, and so they featured throughout my Folktale illustrations as little auxiliary do-gooders.
The prompts are released one month in advance and then participating illustrators have that month to create seven illustrations responding to those prompts. This year they were: Birth, Ritual, Courtship, Solstice, Death, Harvest, Dance.
Somehow the days passed, November was already upon me and I realised how much work this was all going to be! Although so desperate to get started I had a terrible block once I saw the prompts. Oh no! What to do? I researched and researched (great to rediscover the Jim Henson storyteller series!) , but found little to go on that would do justice to the prompts in the way I had hoped or imagined. So, after some thought, more block, plus a little bit of panic, my ‘thrive under pressure’ self came to the rescue and came up with the idea of using the prompts to craft my own story.
I knew the things that inspired me and that I would love to draw, including wolves, giants, mice, cats and birds, oh yes… birds! I have recently been unable to draw anything but birds! This seemed like a great way to really immerse myself in their world. I started researching any folktales that involved birds, and investigating which kinds of birds featured in folktales and the symbolism behind them. Interestingly the birds which seem to prevail in most folktales worldwide were: Ravens, Magpies, Swans, Geese, Owls, Doves, Cranes, Eagles, Wrens and Nightingales.
I rediscovered a folktale, the Seven Crows, which has been reinvented time and again in different guises, that tells of a jealous stepmother turning her stepchildren into ravens (or in another version, wild swans). This triggered something for me. An early memory of a dark hallway in the town house where I grew up, in which hung a sinister framed print of a beast who was half-man, half-bird (I used to rush past it every night with my eyes half-closed to get to my bedroom!) My mother was also an artist with the most fervent imagination, and I suddenly recalled her own fascination with these kinds of hybrids, and how her own beautifully illustrative paintings and drawings would often feature such beaked people, or humans with slightly animalistic qualities. I felt that wonderful surge that tells you an idea is starting to unfold, the tingling that tells you you are onto something. Now I just needed to find a way into my own tale and how to structure it.
If I could just come up with a strong idea for the first prompt ‘Birth’, I felt I would be up and running. I skimmed through the folktales I had at my fingertips looking for anything involving birth. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be very obvious and depict the birth of a baby, or think more metaphorically about birth, but then I remembered another old favourite tale, Hans My Hedgehog, which tells of a peasant couple so desperate for a baby that they wished for even a hedgehog, and then, guess what, gave birth to a half human-half hedgehog. Could I somehow incorporate this idea with my bird theme? Getting closer now…
The final source of inspiration that helped bring my folktale to life wasn’t actually a folktale at all, but a line in a poem by the wonderful late Irish poet, Seamus Heaney. I felt somehow that my subconscious must have been finding ways to connect with my beautiful Mum (who passed away last year) as Seamus Heaney was her very favourite poet. I recalled beautiful sun-filled drives through the countryside near her home in the North of France when we would play the cassette tape of Heaney’s poetry on repeat. The lines: “What did Thought do? Stuck a feather in the ground and thought it would grow a hen” (From Heaney’s poem “Sweetpea”) came floating back to me and there I had it. The idea was born! My tale would start with a peasant woman who longed for a child, and in her desperation she takes advice from an old pedlar, who tells her to plant raven feathers in the ground for seven nights, and then she will have her child …Yes! Now I had something concrete to work with, and the rest was just fleshing out the story!
It all flowed out fairly quickly from that point. I thought through each prompt in my head then roughly jotted my tale down. Very soon the idea of the Bird Queen was born. I always loved the idea of the evil sorcerer incognito when I was a child, and so decided that the pedlar would be the Bird Queen in disguise. Although I liked the idea of playing with a ‘modern folktale concept’, I knew that this tale was ultimately going to have quite a traditional feel to it.
Once I had the story roughed out I did some very simple thumbnail sketches to think through how the illustrations would take shape compositionally. From a portfolio-building viewpoint, I wanted to make sure that over the course of seven illustrations, I would try out a range of perspectives, such as close ups, aerial views, and definitely one that would be on a more ‘epic’ scale (which my ‘Death’ illustration definitely became).
You can scroll through this little gallery to see some of my rough sketches and scribbled notes. You’ll see how very rough the sketches usually are, but they are an integral part of my process. I cannot imagine not putting pencil to paper and scribbling, before refining the illustrations on my drawing tablet, through Photoshop.
By the time Folktale Week arrived I had about three illustrations completed. I really had no idea how or if I would get all seven done (but also had a feeling, knowing me, that I would probably push myself and do them anyway!) In the few months leading up to folktale week, my work had naturally started taking on a more pencil-line, textured look, in parts super detailed, but in others, quite loose and scribbly. This way of working up an illustration had now really set in and so enabled me to find a rhythm in building up each piece fairly quickly, although the details would then become something of a labour of love, and knowing when to stop… oh, the biggest of all conundrums! I already knew roughly the colour palette I wanted to work with, which didn’t stray too far from my typical palette which is usually limited to around 6-7 colours so that helped a great deal. I knew I wanted the colours to start off quite dark and moody until the tale reached it’s peak (the Death of the Bird Queen scene) and then to become lighter and more joy-filled as the story reached its ending.
It was overwhelming and very humbling to see the lovely responses to my illustrations as the week went on. I was truly amazed to wake up halfway through the week and see that I had suddenly gained a flurry of interest on instagram after one or two of my illustrations had been shared not only on the official Folktale account, but also the wonderful Storycamp Disco, (behind which is the truly one-of-a-kind inspiring Deborah Stein). The most rewarding and heart-warming part of it all was not gaining followers or likes, but the fact that so many people truly were invested in my story and following it along it all the way until the end. I could sense people hoping for a happy ending, or redemption where redemption was due, and it was an overwhelming and beautiful feeling of collectiveness and connectedness.
So, what do you do after putting your heart and soul into this whole illustration challenge experience? Well, you let the fairy dust settle, regather your strength, claw back lost sleep, and a sense of normality, then look back over all the immensely talented illustrators’ interpretations of the prompts that you didn’t have time to absorb in the moment, and reflect happily on the whole intense, magical, exhausting and wondrous experience that is Folktale Week.
And, mayhaps, you can’t help but look at everyday folk in a slightly different way. Was that man on the train today hiding a beak underneath his facemask? Was that lady I walked behind in the tunnel today tucking her feathers carefully out of sight?
If you have read this far, you are amazing and I thank you! And now, without further ado, please enjoy “Corvello and the Bird Queen”
Corvello and the Bird Queen
A folktale written and illustrated by Imogen joy
“There was once a young peasant woman who longed for a child. One day an old pedlar who was passing through her village told the woman to plant 100 raven feathers in the ground at the foot of an old oak tree for seven nights, and she would have her child.
The peasant woman, so desperate was she, completed the arduous task and finally gave birth to a baby. As soon as the baby was born, she saw that although he was human in form, he possessed bird-like features, and small feathered wings grew from his back. The peasant woman cared not, and loved the child, who she named “Corvello” with all her heart.
Unbeknown to her, the pedlar was actually the Bird Queen, a powerful sorceress who bewitched newborns and turned them into bird folk...”
“All was happiness for the peasant woman and her newborn. But then came the fateful day when the Bird Queen took the raven boy under her servitude and stole him away in the black of night. The peasant woman was heartbroken. By day she roamed the land calling his name in vain, and by night she lay under the oak tree on a bed of the raven feathers she had planted, longing to see her Corvello again, or else be swallowed up by the ground below her.”
“Years passed by, and the Bird Queen amassed an army of bewitched birdfolk. At times they occupied their human form, but at the Bird Queen’s command they metamorphosed into their bird selves to carry out her wicked deeds.
Over time, Corvello fell in love with an elegant swan named Luna, a bird-person just like him, bewitched under the sorceress’s spell. Together, Corvello and Luna would dream of their return to the human world and their families. Eventually, a plan was formed..”
“Corvello and Luna gradually spread news of their plan to end the Bird Queen’s reign, amongst the bird folk. The day would soon come when the powerful sorceress would fall and the bewitched bird folk would return to their homes and families. But until that day the helpless flock would remain at her mercy.
The Bird Queen’s hunger for power was all consuming and she took great pleasure in tormenting the people of the land. On the day of the summer solstice celebrations, the most joyous day of the year for so many, she plotted to bathe the land in darkness. From village to village she flew with her enchanted flock, screeching wickedly, and tormenting the villagers. The sky was filled with birds, blocking out the sun. Black menacing shadows fell across the land and its people. All was darkness. Their crops failed, and hope vanished..”
“And so the Bird Queen went on, tormenting village after village until the whole land was bathed in darkness. Then she gleefully ordered her bewitched flock to fly to the last village, the one in which Corvello’s bereft mother lived. The flock flew towards the village. Just as they had almost reached its edge, suddenly with an almighty surge, every single bird in the flock soared higher and higher into the sky... further and further away from the village, and the land, until they were high above the ocean.
Furiously their wings flapped, bewildering the sorceress who screeched “You are my servants! Do as I command you!” ... then through the deafening flap of wings came Corvello’s calm and commanding voice “Too long have we been at your mercy. Now you must feel what it is to be powerless” and beating their wings ever more furiously the flock dropped the Bird Queen into the sea below. Her screeching faded to silence as she and her darkness were swallowed by the hungry crashing waves.”
“As soon as the Bird Queen fell, light and colour, so much colour, returned to the land. The bird folk happily returned to their human form, albeit for a few feathers which remained. Crops grew and the harvest was abundant. As if by magic, each time a crop was harvested it would replenish itself to the delight of the hungry villagers.
Corvello and Luna travelled throughout the land in search of Corvello’s mother. So long had he been parted from her that he had no memory of the village where he came from. As they passed through each village, Corvello and Luna would stay a day or two to help reap the plentiful crops. They rejoiced in seeing the happiness in the faces of each of the peasant folk. Yet Corvello’s heart was heavy. Would he ever find his mother?”
“Exhausted and with heavy hearts, Corvello and Luna reached the last village at the edge of the land. They had travelled the country far and wide to find Corvello’s mother, but with no fortune. Summer had turned to Autumn, and a chill was settling upon the land.
As they entered the village, a crowd gathered round them with intrigue. The bird folk were somewhat revered throughout the land and some even thought them bearers of good fortune. A weary peasant woman was collecting wood nearby. Upon hearing the whispers of intrigue she looked up. Through the crowd she saw him. A young man, with chestnut brown hair and rosy cheeks just like hers. A young man, with feathered wings!
“Corvello! My Corvello!” she cried in disbelief, dropping to her knees. Corvello ran to embrace the woman, whom he instantly knew to be his mother.
There was much rejoicing in the village that evening. Corvello and Luna were welcomed into people’s hearts and lives. Music played and the dancing and merriment began. To their astonishment, the bird folk saw that, as they danced, the last remaining feathers fell from their bodies and caught in the gentle evening breeze. And so they danced on, shaking off the trauma of their past and embracing the hope that was now their future.
*THE END*”
The hosts and co-founders of Folktale Week are all amazing illustrators. Please be sure to check out their beautiful accounts here: Jennifer Potter, Sofia Moore, Deborah Stein, Nicola Allen, Laure Allain, Tanja Stephani, Rachael Schafer, Debra Styer, Louise Anjou, Mateja Lukežič , Margaux Kent, Chelsea Larssen