Thando, thank you for your interest in my work

Interviews with Niki Daly

Niki Daly: Exploring the "Dual Reality" of Children's Lives

Meena G. Khorana

Celebrated South African author-illustrator Niki Daly is his country's nominee for the 2002 Hans Christian Andersen Illustrator Award in recognition of a life devoted to the pursuit of excellence in art and a sensitive depiction of South Africa's multiracial, multicultural society. Even during Apartheid, Daly did not allow the accepted norms of his society to limit his creativity. He was curious about the lives of those who were different from himself: "I yearned to be part of another world, and fantasizing and drawing made it possible" (quoted in Fairer-Wessels and van der Walt 12). Hence he depicted the duality of his society by presenting the other side of the color divide, the real and fantasy lives of his young characters, and the pain and pleasure of living.

From a young age, Nicholas "Niki" Daly (b. 13 June 1946 in Cape Town), showed talent for art and music, even though these subjects were not offered at his school. After high school, he took evening classes in art, and in 1964 entered Cape Technikon Art School as a full-time student and started performing and recording as singer and song writer. After receiving the National Diploma in Art and Design in 1966, he began working as a "junior visualizer" with Quadrant International Advertising Agency. In 1969, he got a recording contract with CBS Record Company and moved to London, where he first wrote songs and recorded an album, and then worked as designer for Stafford Winfield and Cook Agency. From 1976-77, he was a self-employed illustrator, doing mainly black-and-white drawings for Mary Glasgow, an educational publisher. Daly also taught part-time at the Art and Design Department of the East Ham College of Technology. In 1979, Daly and his family returned to Cape Town, where he freelanced as editorial illustrator and taught art and design at The Foundation School of Arts and Crafts. In1982, he was appointed as head of design at Stellenbosch University.1 In his acceptance speech for the 2001 Vivian Wilkes Award (for Fly, Eagle, Fly!), he told the audience that it was at the children's library in Putney, London, that he realized he wanted to become a children's picture book artist.

I remember checking to see if anyone was looking, and then smelling a picture book. Kinky behavior--you might think! But I was trying to understand exactly what it was that made a book. I thought that its smell might explain some of its mystery.. For me, everything was beautiful about that book--the paper, the hard cover, the way it swiveled on a spine as it opened and revealed a world of pictures. And those pictures! Just how did they get onto that paper?

In order to understand the mechanics of a book, he eventually got an old picture book and did a postmortem on it. Based on the information gained, he created his first book, The Little Girl Who Lived down the Road. When it appeared in print in 1978, "The first thing I did was to smell it," he continued in his speech. "It smelt like a book! I opened it up. and there were my pictures--made monumental by four-color printing on paper." It was an exciting moment in his life, because the book won the British Arts Council Illustration Award and was used on BBC television.Since then, Daly has illustrated thirty-nine books, of which twenty-two were written and six co-authored by him. Daly's books have been published in fourteen countries [in how many languages?]. Thirteen of his books have received awards at home and abroad or have been recognized in honor lists such as the Horn Book Honor List and the IBBY Honour List for Illustration. These awards symbolize Daly's outstanding contribution to South African children's literature and his passionate commitment to his art. According to Anna Louw, [President?] of the South African Children's Book Forum, "[h]e evinces the rich variety of South African life through his choice of characters and the way in which he depicts their essential features"

(3).As Writer: Champion of the Survivor

The plots of Daly's picture books focus on the ordinary events in a child's life--such as buying new shoes, the futile efforts of an overpowering brother to scare his younger sibling, or a day at the beach--yet he seeks out the underlying emotions, the tensions and triumphs experienced by children. While this ability to tap into the humanity of his characters universalizes Daly's picture books, most of his stories and characters are rooted very firmly in a South African setting. In 1986, when he published the groundbreaking Not So Fast, Songololo, Daly was hailed as a multicultural writer. The book was awarded the Katrine Harries Award for illustration (South Africa) and Parents' Choice Award for Literature (USA). South African [Namibian?] scholar Andrée-Jeanne Tötemeyer referred to the book as "[t]he first significant children's book embracing official acceptance of the black man as a permanent city dweller" (quoted in Gericke 8). Not So Fast, Songololo is an intergenerational story of a dignified grandmother and her slow moving grandson who make a perfect pair on a shopping trip to the city. Their tender and caring relationship is conveyed subtly through carefully chosen words and warm watercolor illustrations. Daly has continued to explore the lives of children from poor homes, yet he refuses to dwell on the somber by taking a positive outlook on life. Hope, joy, and dreams enable his characters to rise above circumstances. However, he does not ignore the harsh living conditions in crowded Black townships. To give vitality and "life" to his stories, he draws on his visits to squatter camps and on his own childhood experience of living among other hardworking poor Whites, of memories of junk collecting around his neighborhood. Daly says he is "fascinated by the dual reality children have when playing games" (quoted in "Daly" 38), by how they can transform even the most dismal surroundings into an ideal world through the power of imagination, as in Charlie's House. In Jamela's Dress, Daly tells the story of a young girl transcending her environment when she sees the beautiful fabric her mother has bought for a dress. Wrapped in it, Jamela fancies she is a queen and parades through the streets with her unusual "entourage," consisting of a dog, a chicken, and the neighborhood children. But she is jolted back to reality when the fabric is ruined from being dragged on the streets, and her mother is disappointed because she cannot afford to replace it. However, irrepressible Jamela's story has a satisfactory ending when Archie, the local photographer, announces that the picture he took of Jamela parading through the township has won and award-and he shares the prize money with her.Daly portrays interactions among the races in a matter-of-fact manner, celebrating the diversity and human experience in post-Apartheid South Africa. For instance, in The Boy on the Beach, a White lifeguard quite naturally helps a Black child who is lost on the beach. When asked in an interview with Celebration Song about his interest in depicting the stories of Black South African characters, Daly replied:

I have a passion for people and their lives and I have a hungry eye. So I can't resist rushing home to capture on paper someone I have seen on the street, beach or shopping mall; someone in a situation that has touched me..Of course by the time I arrive home, we have become one. So when I look at my characters, regardless of race or sex or background, they all represent aspects of me. The story they tell is my story. (page?) Daly brings these same attitudes to his international works such as Bravo, Zan Angelo!, the story of young Angelo's ardent desire to become a street comedian like his grandfather in eighteenth-century Venice. When given the insignificant part of a rooster who crows off-stage, the boy's determination, ingenuity, and talent enable him to expand his role and win the audience.

Regardless of race, culture, or nationality, Daly believes that adults and a strong family play a nurturing role in the lives of children, especially of those under six. No matter how difficult the situation, the needs, dreams, and hopes of Daly's protagonists find fruition through the love of a caring and sensitive adult. These convictions resonate in his illustrations for One Round Moon and a Star for Me, the story of a young boy who needs reassurance after the birth of a sibling. The harmonious relationship among his family, the community, and the rural setting are vital to the well being of the child. Details of rituals associated with the birth of the baby and the participation of the neighbors further the child's sense of security. Perhaps, Daly is vicariously reliving his childhood and giving his characters a secure family life, something that he lacked as a child due to his father's alcoholism. The picture book My Dad embodies some of these painful

experiences. Yet, he always focuses on the positive: "throughout my life I have experienced much kindness and love from all sorts of people. These blessings lead me to believe that we are part of a much greater family than our immediate family" (Interview" page?).Daly has embraced this extended view of the family in his professional life by rendering tremendous service to children's publishing in South Africa. He developed Songololo Books, a children's book division of David Philip Publishers, in order to stimulate the publication of books about and by Black South Africans. Furthermore, he has conducted workshops that have facilitated the work of other writers and illustrators, and those for the READ Organisation resulted in the production of books called The Little Library series. He has also supported this organization's project to establish lending libraries in Black schools by donating some of the proceeds from the US publication of Not So Fast, Songololo.

As Illustrator: Capturing Emotion and Rhythm

Words and pictures blend harmoniously in Daly's books, but he confesses that he "became a writer in order to draw pictures" (quoted in Fairer-Wessels and van der Walt 10). Daly's remarkably detailed and individualized illustrations of his characters are the outcome of a painstaking process: "When I am planning the illustrations for a new book, I find myself staring at people as if to imprint them on my mind. Then I go to my studio and draw from memory. I draw a character over and over, until it materializes unmistakably before me on the page. Then I find I can draw that person from any angle, with any expression, in any mood" (quoted in Bouma 4)

The range of Daly's art bears witness to an extreme versatility in illustration styles from pen or pencil line drawings, to collage and comic-strip techniques, to pencil sketches filled with watercolors. Likewise, he adapts his expression-from humorous to Impressionistic to surreal-to represent a variety of moods and subject matter. Daly is multicultural in his artistic styles as well. A European influence is evident in Why the Sun and Moon Live in the Sky, which was on the New York Times Ten Best Illustrated Books list in 1995. His illustrations for The Dancer--the story of a young San maiden's heroic quest to bring the gift of rain to her people--were inspired by Kalahari wall paintings. The stylized yet lively line drawings evoke the story's mystical and mythical qualities.

Daly believes that pictures should not only extend the text to "further the meaning and emotional effect of the words" (quoted in Gericke 8) but that they should also be examples of good art. Daly's ability to capture rhythm and movement in his illustrations is seen as the most characteristic aspect of his artistry. According to Felicité Fairer-Wessels and Thomas van der Walt, Daly's talent as a singer and composer finds expression in his picture books, "in his use of lyrical and lilting prose as well as the dance-like movement of his figures" (13). In Fly, Eagle, Fly!, Daly's earth-tone paintings [correct?] lift Christopher Gregorowski's story of an eaglet, who finally assumes its true nature and learns to fly, above the everyday routine and makes it soar. The illustrations reduce the complex theme of transcending one's physical and social limitations to its spiritual and political dimensions. Likewise, the bright, bold colors in Jamela's Dress complement the power of Jamela's imagination and the hectic activity on the streets. Jamela's facial expressions and body language reveal her feelings of elation, guilt, and repentance. The pictures seem to virtually dance through the pages in keeping with Jamela.

Niki Daly's books transcend racial, cultural, and socio-economic boundaries to appeal to readers at the human and emotional levels. However, he does not gloss over the impact of Apartheid on the lives of Black South Africans-or on himself. Daly has tried to affect social change through his books for children by remaining true to his vision and message that human beings matter. He told [the editors of?] Contemporary Authors that if children's writers and illustrators can overcome laws of science and make pigs fly, then we can overcome anything our imagination will allow and produce relevant and entertaining books for all children. (Quoted in "Nicholas Daly" 4)

He wants his books to offer young readers "a hopeful world where people are kind, an imaginative world where everything is possible-even peace"

(Acceptance Speech).

Interview with Edna Isaacs/HUISGENOOT/YOU

Edna: After doing illustrations in water-colour, what is it like to do your art on the computer these days? Does it make it less of an art if it’s on the computer for you, or how do you maintain the artistic element?

Niki: I’ve always enjoyed drawing more than painting, so painting was always added as a ‘necessary embellishment’. However, I did choose a medium (water colour) that suited my ‘grab- the-moment- approach’, and one that also complimented my line. That said, watercolour is, perhaps, the most demanding of mediums in that you can’t cover up mistakes without making a mess. Naturally, such a tricky medium not only keeps one on ones toes as an artist, but can shatter the nerves of the most robust of artists. When I discovered I could do pretty good water colour ‘fakes’ on my computer, I was released from all the angst that went with my work; truly, I’d end up a wreck at the end of the day, trying to prevent last minute mess-ups. It was like walking a tight rope.

As far as the ‘art’ of illustration goes, I’ve always maintained that the actual art piece is the ‘printed and published book’. As such, my ‘computer’ generated books please me the most in terms of colour reproduction, and clean images. However, I’m not sure an illustrator can easily ‘fake’ a water colour on the computer if they are not already proficient in using the medium on paper. The fact that editors still refer to my digital illustrations as ‘water colours’, sort of proves that I’ve pulled it off

Edna: What part of the illustration is done on the computer? Does working on the computer make things easier or more complicated?

Niki: Earlier work such as Zanzibar Road and Pretty Salma combined pencil on paper (for the line and shading) and were then scanned and coloured on the computer. Both of those books are done in a cartoon style and I was after an effect close to lithograph prints. That is, using flat colours over a pencil drawing. With A Song for Jamela, my hand did not touch paper.

It certainly is nicer for me not to be surrounded by tubes and tubes of paint, umpteen brushes, a jar of water that constantly needs refreshing and all the paraphernalia that accompanied my water colour days. Nowadays, it’s just me, computer, monitor, a drawing tablet and pen which converts strokes into digital data. The entire process of putting together a picture in layers (again, not unlike lithographs) appeals greatly to me. If any changes are required (as they often are in publishing) I do not have to consider suicide anymore – it’s easy-peas to remove and replace. I love it!

Edna: What has been your favourite Jamela book in the series? Why?

Niki: I really do think ‘A Song for Jamela’ the latest and last has been the most fun – to research, to write, to illustrate and I’m sure it’s going to be lovely to read.

Edna: How do you feel about saying goodbye to the series?

Niki: Well after the first book, which I did as a one off, I was asked to consider a second, which I thought was a crazy idea – I had always moved on to new ideas after each book. Anyway, not long after the idea of doing a second book was proposed, I had an idea – that was Yebo Jamela! By doing a follow-up, I grew excited about following the lives of Jamela and her family – what next? I suppose it was wanting to bring Jamela and her family closer to me prompted me to write a story about them moving home – from the township to the suburb of Mowbray. Really, I was simply tracking the social and political changes taking place around me. This resulted in the third book ‘Where’s Jamela?’ In the fourth ‘Happy Birthday Jamela!’, you find her as a well integrated suburbanite interacting with her neighbours. I suppose the fifth is simply a BIG celebration of all that I find dynamic about living in Mowbray – the streets, the hairdressing salons and feeling very much part of it – my beloved neighbourhood.

So, yes, there’s a sense of leaving Jamela and her family, on the road to success. I imagine, without me, they will increase their fortunes and lead colourful lives. I imagine Jamela growing up to become a wonderful South African – full of fun, resourceful and with a great love for her family and community

Edna: What do you think made the series so popular?

Niki: I think it established an entirely different kind of fictional black child compared to Shepherd of ‘Not so Fast Songololo’ - who drew a sort of ‘ag shame’ response from readers. Jamela is no victim – she’s just a great little girl who leads her readers through a romp. Of course, there’s a formula at work in the stories; Jamela gets into a scrape (always innocently) and gets out of them, mainly though her own resourcefulness, and with a little help from her friends.

I think I’ve created a very warm backdrop to the stories – in which the spirit of ‘ubuntu’ can be felt. I think my readers like the vitality and , positive outlook of my characters. They come from me and I’m a vital and positive person myself.

Edna: I saw on the promo DVD that you got the name Jamela from a neighbour’s daughter and even went to the real Jamela’s wedding. Tell me a bit about that.

Niki: Yea, that was such a nice gift – to hear that beautiful name being called out from across the road. My neighbour’s daughter spells her name Djamela. I dropped the ‘D’ for easier reading. I saw her grow up from girl into a beautiful young woman and was naturally, thrilled to be invited to her wedding which took place in the little chapel on Robben Island.

The bride was welcomed to the sound of chamber music and ululating – quite wonderful – the kind of amazing mix of cultures that makes me so happy to be a South African.

Edna:What would you say are the challenges and joys of writing for children? And do you also keep the parents who have to read to stories to kids in mind?

Niki; The challenges are the same as writing for adults – thinking up new ideas!!! Of course, a writer has to consider every line when writing for children as thirty two pages of little text cannot afford words that do not add to or drive the story. I think being a song writer gave me a very good grounding in writing for children. I still go by the ‘sound’ of the text.

I honestly have never had anyone in mind for my books. My idea for a book has to keep me interested long enough to complete the thing. I trust my instincts, which does not mean that I’ve not had ideas which get rejected by publishers. And when that happens I put it aside and carry on in the same way – trusting my instincts, hoping I get it right. I’ve had many more acceptances than rejections so I figure I’m on the right track. If I thought of parents or particular children I think that would interfere with my own creative source and process, and would still not guarantee a better book. The child I was is very much intact and comes out to play when I’m with children. I also a parent so, that too, guides what I do and feel about children. I care deeply for them.

A warning - the kiss of death to any children’s book is when a writer feels they have something they wish to teach children. Better to celebrate those events in your life that brought you joy and share them with children. When asked what makes a good children’s book Frieda Linda once said, ‘Vitality . . . because children are vital’. A very simple guideline but golden.

Edna: Does being the illustrator make the writing process easier?

Niki: In most cases it makes for a better picture book when a writer/illustrator is involved. Certainly, there’s a seamless quality about the best books done by people such as Sendak, Lobel, Keeping and Ardizzone (all my heroes are old school!). It’s also very much easier for a solo act to make changes to both text and picture in order to get the perfect balance. The golden rule for making an elegant picture book is to ‘show not tell’ – don’t explain in words what can be shown in a picture. What do they say –‘a picture is worth a thousand words’?

To end with, writing and illustrating for children is a great job even though there are no quick bucks to be made. It takes many years before one can give up one’s day job. But there can be few endevours that have a life of their own as books do, and not just one life but many, as family favourites are shared and passed down over the generations, as is the case with the classics.

These days, my first readers are bringing their children to hear me read. It’s very sweet . . . and sobering. Can this little boy be growing so old?

The Babara Lehman Interview with

Niki Daly, Children’s Books Writer and Illustrator

20^th November 2006

Background and development as an artist:

Babara: Your dad (a caricaturist) and Uncle Piet were both artists. Do you see any of their influence in your own work and artistic style?

Niki: My dad was a carpenter by trade but enjoyed doing the occasional sketch - mainly faces. I also love drawing faces. My Uncle Piet, who was married to my father's sister, was a good water colourist who, I've been told, used to pitch up at my parents home in the wee hours of the morning, dirty and smelling after tramping down from the Eastern Cape to Cape Town. He lived a sorry life, but did very good watercolours, which he sold for a bottle of wine. For years, his pitch was outside the gates of Rhodes University where he traded his paintings with students. On one of his visits, Piet introduced me to Venus pencils and watercolour paints in little tubs. I think I fell in love with art materials before knowing that I wanted to be an artist. I still look at his paintings and am reminded by them that, watercolours need to be kept simple and fresh. He was rather good at painting trees, which I am not.

Babara: You also credit comic strips, Tenniel’s illustrations for Alice in Wonderland, and C.W. Bacon’s illustrations for Pilgrim’s Progress as influencing your artistic development. Tell us more about the connections among these three, as they are evident in your work today.

Niki: Perhaps, comic strips have had the biggest influenced on my work as an illustrator. The best of comics are always filled with movement and action. So from them I leant a way of capturing the body in mid action that suggests movement on a page. I will even make use of comic drawing devices, such as speed lines, to emphasize speed and direction in an action picture. Joe, my son, who trained as a animator, tells me that I draw like an animator - that is, I make use of multiple characters whose combined movements make up a full cycle of movement. I also show my support characters interacting with the central action through their body language. So the entire scene is animated. I think that's what is liked about my work - the illusion of movement.

Tenniel's illustrations for Alice in Wonderland certainly influenced the first book I did – “The Little Girl who lived down the Road” - despite my thinking that I was copying from Sendak. I later realised that he, being the style thief he is, had also dipped into Tenniel's work. Tenniel's Alice drawings are a constant source of amazement to me because they are masterworks of illustration in which technique, draftsman ship and interpretation all work together to create a unique atmosphere. He really offers the eye an alternate reality in Carol's Wonderland. I found, and still find those illustrations quite threatening because they are so convincing. Mostly, my stories are set in the everyday realm. I have little reason to distort that reality because I am so interested in life around me. Yet, my representation of life is not very realistic as it leans towards Impressionism. I adore the Impressionists, with Degas and Lautrec being my idols.

Pilgrim's Progress with Bacon's illustrations was given to me at the age of twelve by my class teacher, Mr Penfold, with the intention of turning me into a Christian. Instead, it turned me into an illustrator. The sheer drama in the pictures thrilled me - like going to the movies!

Babara: You credit Edward Ardizzone, Harold Jones, and Maurice Sendak as being influential later on your work. Tell us about those connections.

Niki: I was living in London during the 70's and when I started looking at children's books as a place I wanted my art to be 'housed', both Ardizzone and Jones were with Laura Cecil's agency. So when I joined her, I got to see their work. Both were excellent with pen and ink, a medium I was learning to use as an illustrator on educational publications. From them, I learnt how to build up form using light and shade by cross-hatching. I felt a stronger affinity with Ardizzone's art than Harold's. But both guided me through those early years. I still dip into Ardizzone's picture books before starting a book of my own; to remind myself that one needs no more than three washes to build a picture. Harold's gentle colour palette is very inspiring - so easy on the eye, and speaks of a time when children were happy bathing their eyes in soft colours.

I first saw Sendak's pen and ink illustrations for Elsa Minarik's Little Bear stories. Again, I was drawn to the black and white cross hatching technique which Sendak used beautifully, combined with dusty pink and peppermint green separated colours. More than that, his ability to capture emotion struck me as his great talent. Emily's motherliness over her broken doll is palpable, as is Little Bear's good-natured ness. In Sendak, I saw that illustration is very close to acting.

For a long time now, I have dropped the time consuming and rather mindless technique of cross hatching, believing, as I do, that life is too short for stuffing prunes and cross hatching. I continue to look to these three greats, as guides towards illustrated worlds that are "elegantly dreamy" and totally captivating

Babara: Since you call yourself a drawer and not a painter, how do all these influences connect with your feelings about drawing versus painting?

Niki: I do feel that all I need to 'say' as an artist, I can 'say' using line. In its most abstract form - a line can convey many moods - from gentle curves to aggressive scratch marks. So before one is even drawing something recognizable, line has potency. I love the immediate way that a line drawing communicates. So it's not surprising that it's the medium of choice for political cartooning. As I am most interested in people and their body language, drawing is perfect for capturing people on paper. For me, adding colour means 'colouring in my drawings'. I do this because that's what people want to see in picture books - bright coloured pictures. On the other hand, my wife, the illustrator Jude Daly, is a great colourist and painter. For her, colour suggests atmosphere and emotion. Still, there is a way that one can DRAW with COLOUR. So rather than colouring in, I sometimes tell myself that I am 'drawing in colour' - and it feels a lot better!

Babara: How has your own style evolved from all of these? How do you view your development at this point in your career?

Niki: A few years ago, an editor said to me about work I had just done that, my 'intentions' were evident in my illustrations. Her observation pleased me because it implied that I had successfully communicated my 'feelings' through my illustration. Of course, this ought not to be an extraordinary achievement for an artist. It's what one would expect, really. But for an illustrator, there are pitfalls to be coming a true artist. For many of us, clever techniques and use of materials can become an end in themselves. I mean, there's a lot of illustration these days that is beautifully executed, but fails to touch me because it lacks feeling.

I do not have great technical skills. Rather, I love drawing - drawing people, most of all. So, I am careful not to let technical considerations, such as using photographs or tricky materials get in the way of the direct, intuitive connection between my eye, subject, hand and heart.

These days, I really enjoy my work. Possibly, I'm getting good at what I do.

Babara: What do you mean by the statement, “Ideally, I’d like to eliminate the gear between my handwriting and my drawing to allow my hand and pen to ‘dance me drawing’”?

Niki: Okay - when I write, I am not at all self conscious about it. I do not intend to impress by my written hand. Yet, my hand makes some beautiful marks while writing. But when I draw, I change gear. I feel self conscious about wanting to make a 'nice' drawing. I am judgmental and hard to please. Now, that's the gear I want to remove. And I’m making progress! These days, when drawing and feeling free of wanting to impress, it feels as though I am dancing with my pen, brush, dip pen - or digital pen! In that sense, I say: "My pen and hand have danced me drawing." So when people say that my drawings have a dance like quality, I am pleased to hear that.

Development as a writer:

Babara: You say that at one point you felt much more confident as an illustrator than as a writer. Later you learned to play with words and use them in order to draw pictures. Do you still prioritise your work this way? Can you explain?

Niki: I romanticize the role of a writer and an artist. For I'm of the persuasion that people are 'born' with certain talents. I feel that I'm a 'born' illustrator, but I do not feel a 'born' writer. If forced to give up one or the other - it would be writing. Shucks! Having my drawing taken away, I reckon, would unhinge me! However, I appreciate good writing. I know that good writing should 'sound' good on the ear when read aloud. And it’s my ear for music that might trick people into thinking that I am a writer. But I don’t feel like one.

Themes in your work:

Babara: You say you discovered a theme of solitariness in your first published book, The Little Girl Who Lived Down the Road and in one published much later, Mary Malloy and the Baby Who Wouldn’t Sleep. Later you drew thematic inspiration from the lives of your young sons, from the lives of others, such as in Songololo or a sidewalk dancer in Papa’s Lucky Shadow, that you observed around you. You also say that you believe that childhood innocence is a myth and naughtiness is natural. Overall, what sort of themes intrigue you today in your work?

Niki: I remember feeling frustrated as a child by my family's financial restraints. My mantra at the time was "if only, if only, if only..." Today, perhaps, children have greater opportunities and the power to exercise them. Still, part of being a child in a grown up world is that children 'yearn' for things that always seem out of reach. While I don't consciously plant the element of 'yearning' in my stories, it's there, I’d say.

In Africa, there is a saying: "I am, because you are." which is a beautiful way of interlocking the individual with the community. Having a culture that straddles first and third world, and western and African ideologies, I tend to portray the black children in my books as strong individuals who are held closely within their homes and neighbourhoods. It's pretty much the way I grew up, surrounded by buxom aunts, jolly uncles and wild kids on the block.

Babara: You talk about how you try to make emotional connections between your own childhood experiences and those of children in the books you illustrate. How do these connections become apparent through themes or mood in your books?

Niki: The answer to this interesting question is, I hope, evident in my previous answer. But the key to making the emotional connection is 'memory'. I particularly remember my life between six to twelve. Life is a bit blurred after that, until I turned forty! I know that most writers have a particular time in their lives when they felt more 'riveted' to life and that's where they pitch their stories and themes.

Babara: You recognize that current South African realities of many children include violence, poverty, and perhaps others issues such as AIDS. How can/should writers for children handle these realities and still offer hope?

Niki: I have illustrated a number of stories set against a background of poverty and disadvantage. But these stories have a big dollop of hope in them. I can't see the point of a bleak story without any hope.

From time to time, I visit the Red Cross Children's hospital where there are children dying of aids related diseases. I cannot think of anything more tragic than the death of a child. Yet, the hospital school is a place filled with hope - taking each day at a time, feeling hopeful. This makes it a place of joy where reading a jolly picture book story is a great comfort and, I hope, healing. I am not fond of educational books that pretend to be picture books. They each have their place, but the intentions of each are different. I revere the 'real' picture book because they are done by real writers who know how to tell stories that appear light with no apparent lesson, yet touch us on a human level.

We all know that life can be tricky, with people who are unpredictable and even brutal. Certainly, my new book 'Pretty Salma', deals with one of life's dangers - 'stranger danger'. The idea grew out of a chance meeting with a little girl who was taking a dangerous route home from school. My wife and I spotted her and suggested a safe route. We ended up as friends, and I wrote the story of Pretty Salma whose old granny sends her to the market. "Go straight there and back again. And do not talk to strangers, you hear!" Says her Granny.

Salma's rather chuffed to be the star of my new book. These days, she saunters past our house with a gang of girls making their way home from school. I'm glad to say, they stick to the safe route.

A story about living with HIV or dying from an AIDS related disease would be pretty challenging, and not beyond my field of interest; just terrifically difficult to do without it being instructional. I'm not interested in instructing anyone. I want to tell stories

Publishing:
Babara: You comment that the publishing industry today is driven by how well a book will sell and that editors are rarely “willing to put aside their own history in order to promote ideas and messages that oppose their religious and political beliefs.” You also say that you believe that values acceptable for children’s books are still largely driven by Victorian morals. Do you still believe these statements?

Niki: That was rather rash of me to say - my a little rage against any consensus that I see as a result of too many people from similar backgrounds thinking alike. But after the years as a published writer and illustrator, I can now pretty much predict the responses to those ideas of mine that will receive a good reception and those that will flounder. They fall into two groups - ideas and themes that do not challenge the status quo and those that do. I think many adults are still threatened by the energy that children have. I see this fear in many schoolteachers when I visit schools as they stand around the hall like a lot of fire fighters ready to douse anyone who grows too wild. I love wildness in children, which makes where the Wild Things Are such a remarkable book, to me. But would it be published today, I wonder?

My outburst did come after a few books of mine were rejected, I admit. One is called "The Sweet Giant who learnt how NOT to eat Little Children". Anyone interested???

Babara: You were instrumental in getting the Songololo books line started, with David Philip Publishers in South Africa, in an effort to provide children’s books that reflected the lives of all South African children. What has happened to this line?

Niki: For a while, the Songololo list went out of print while the company changed hands. Then Arabella Koopman, a passionate children's book editor, stepped in and decided that the backlist was too good to disappear. Now, most of the books I did back in the 80's are back in print and doing well. Songololo Books attracted much support for its slogan - "Books for All our Children". Up until then, it was unclear that publishers had black children in mind when they published children's books in which token black children appeared - usually barefooted and looking bewildered while being introduced to a white world by a white child. At Songololo Books, I chose books that portrayed children in their own right. And if they were resourceful and imaginative, I valued the stories even more. Favourites from that period are "Charlie's House" by Reviva Schermbrucker ,"All the Magic in the World" by Wendy Hartmann and "One Round Moon and a Star for Me" by Ingrid Mennen. All three writers attended my workshop and have continued to write.

Babara: You also promoted workshops to encourage the work of more South African writers of color; yet, you say that these “did not stimulate any publishable material.” Is it still true that South African children’s book publishing remains largely in the hands of whites? What do you think can be done about this? How can the needs of South African children of diverse cultural and language groups be met?

Niki: At the time I ran workshops, I really wanted to bring in writers from all racial groups. However, South Africa was erupting with political pressure and white and black South Africans were very isolated from one another, beyond those involved in the struggle as comrades. It wasn't easy setting up a venue where everyone was able to attend. So, I ended up with quite a motley crew. There was a group who co-wrote according to their non-sexist, non-racist, democratic ideology - producing a non-sexist, non-racist text where each character was democratically assigned an equal amount of speech. It was pretty awful. If there was one thing those workshops taught me, it was that, while everyone can be taught to write, not EVERYONE is a writer.

This was a time of heated debate regarding white writers writing about black experiences. These days, that debate has subsided. Most of us know that reading is key to learning, and that attractive books with appropriate content invite reading. 'Who' writes is now less important than 'how' and 'what' is written. Writers are expected to show respect for their subject. I do this by research and trying to understand the background to my stories. But, finally, I rely on a sense of humanity, my curiosity and imagination to guide me. Then it's up to the market to decide to support or reject my work. For sure, I never take it for granted that my books will sell. I am always, surprised, grateful and delighted by the good things that come from my work.

Sorry, this is a longwinded way of offering an explanation for the lack of black writers for children in South Africa. Basically then, writing for children has always been a middle class occupation. So I hope that in the future, as a fast emerging black middle class starts to explore lifestyles, some of my black brothers and sisters will gravitate towards writing and illustrating for children because they just have it in them to follow that path. Once there are a few role models, one would hope to see more voices that speak to children. Until then, these voices, stories and pictures are sorely lacking in South African children's books. It is odd that there are a number of excellent black writers who write for adults. They need to be asked why they don't write for children as well.

Implications of your work in the South African context:

Babara: You speak of having working-class Irish, English and Afrikaner roots. How does this personal heritage connect with the new South Africa?

Niki: I am not someone who depends on others to define who I am and how I ought to feel about myself. So, I do not think about that question very often - unless I am made aware of being excluded from an opportunity because I am a white South African. You see, I take such a strong individual stance (even as a child within my own family) that it's not natural for me to want to fit in with any specific group. I love meeting people and I am good at making friends. That matters to me. But I must admit - I have a tiny bit of vanity over my Irish roots. And despite living a middle class life, as I do, I still harbour a working class mentality that automatically sides with the underdog. I think you can sense this in my books.

Babara: You also describe yourself as a child being largely ignorant about black culture. Yet today you are well known for your picture books depicting blacks and other persons of colour in South Africa. What have you done to educate yourself over the years, even before the end of Apartheid? How has this informed your work?

Niki: Yes, as a child I had no idea where the black woman who worked for my mother lived. I understood that black folk had difficult lives, plagued by passbook regulations and squalid living conditions. I also questioned my family's practice of discrimination where the maid was not encouraged to drink from our cups or use our plates and cutlery. Instead, my mother set aside less than the best cup and saucer for 'the girl'. I know that it's irksome to hear a white South African of my generation go on about their 'special bond' with the black woman who worked in their homes. But I certainly had a bond with all the black woman who worked for my mother. I still have a strong connection to Miriam Makalima who saw me through my boyhood into adulthood. African men were different. I had little connection with African men and was mainly fearful of them having been told by my grandmother that 'they' put naughty white children in big black bags and carry them away'.

Fortunately, through my 'black mothers', I knew that racism was a bad thing. More than that, it was plain stupid. Still, I consider myself contaminated by racist thinking and have to consciously make an effort, as 'a white child of apartheid', to debunk the notion that I, because of my 'whiteness', am better than the next man. That's really what I learnt from the black woman who worked for my mother, and gives me the confidence to do the books I choose to do.

Babara: You say that when Songololo was published, you “hadn’t considered the implications of a white person writing a ‘black’ story.” What do you think these implications are?

Niki: Causing indignation among some black folk who saw it as opportunism at its most hypocritical. That, and having to defend my 'aunt Jemima' portrayal of the old Gogo. I claimed that I was being true to what I had witnessed on a crowded street. The old grandmother was a large old lady. Beautifully large to my eyes. The little boy, tiny and touching. Those are the contrasts that make good pictures, to me. But it would seem, I was wrong to choose a large granny when there might have been one in the crowd that looked like Dinah Ross.

Critics from the 'other side' might have described my writing Not so Fast Songololo as 'excavating black lives as a resource.' (a phrase once used by Gcina Mhlope to describe what she felt 'white writers of black stories' were doing). Well, I disagree with any suggestion that any writer should confine their writing to their own 'lived experiences'. The magical aspect of creative writing is that we are able to imagine ourselves into someone else's shoes, living other lives. I suspect that, in some cases, an outsider's perspective might reveal more than 'a writer from within' who is blinded by over-familiarity with their subject. And, surely, having an agenda to portray 'your own' in a certain light, must be as damaging to authentic writing as 'getting it wrong' as an outsider. Political posturing on both sides bedevils the debate. Otherwise, we might all agree that it's possible for a white man to write like a black woman - which I have often been mistakenly identified as. And as I have such high regard for the black woman in my life, I am never swift to correct that error!

Babara: Tell us about your decision to return from London to South Africa in 1979. Why did you feel compelled to do that?

Niki: We returned in '79, against the advice of friends who warned that we were returning to a blood bath. But we had had our first child, Joe, in London and were without family, besides a scattering of distant cousins and old aunts and uncles on my wife's side. What mattered was that Joe’s maternal and paternal grandparent was in South Africa and I wanted him to have grandparents. Also, we had outgrown our bachelor flat in London and, as I had never felt more than a tourist who had forgotten to return home, we decided it was time to go home. And by returning, I felt truly alive to my country and people for the first time in my life. For me, it was a time of growth and developing as an artist and a South African. I imagine that had I remained in Britain, I would not have achieved very much as a writer and illustrator. My stories come from this soil.

Babara: What are your thoughts about how the new South Africa is developing?

Niki: It was foolish for any of us to think that transformation was going to be easy and without some serious social problems. Part of the difficulty whites experience, is sharing the resources that once catered exclusively for their needs. They get hissy when they have to wait in long queues and complain about the ‘incompetence’ of affirmative action appointees. Thousands have left South Africa since 1994. Most claim that the ‘nature’ of our crime is intolerable. And it is. Most are too fearful to walk around the streets. So when I walk up to my local shops, I am often the only white person in a crowd of black people. So what! I think it is intolerable to give up that freedom to walk around my neighbourhood. I get a lot of good ideas walking around my neighbourhood! Besides, I travel and know that things are not so hunky dory in other countries. I adore South Africans. They impress me no end! We have a great ability to reach out to each other. Mandela embodies the spirit that the majority of us embrace. So, change is tough, but we are changing.

Babara: What role do you think that children’s books can play and have played in the new South Africa?

Niki: In the years leading up to democracy, the best of our children's books, to my mind, were those that built bridges between our racial divide.

There were books that offered healing simply by having positive portrayals of black children. This gave previously disenfranchised children a sense of importance when they looked at the new books and recognised themselves in the stories written by others and myself. At the same time, white children were introduced to their black brothers and sisters who they could see were no different to themselves, regarding the things that make us human. The opening of model C schools followed, where children of all races met for the first time, and I think it helped the process of integration to have books that showed black and white children as equal partners. For all the criticism against white writers and their 'black books', I see our contribution as part of the bridge building that was happening then.

We are now in our 12th year of democratic change. Education is a top priority, and with it reading has a keen focus. New libraries are being built for communities who have never owned library cards in their lives before. Our Minister of Education, Naledi Pandoor, speaks passionately about children having great books to encourage reading. For the first time since returning to South Africa, I am feeling optimistic about writers and illustrators being able to make a living. Zanzibar Road, my new book, is available in 12 languages, which ought to support more than my art materials account this year. General publishers are enthusiastic about growing their children's lists. In June this year we held our first ever Cape Town International Book Fair and it was a great success - bagging 30,000 visitors in four days. Next year it will be an even larger book fair. Everybody must come!!

There are still great stories to tell which I hope will be told in a host of voices. Some of those stories will challenge the stereotypical image of Africa served in an overly reverent manner - where blacks are noble tribesmen and children run wild and free among animals. I hope there will always be animals and people living rural lives. But, as South Africa emerges as a modern country with all the technologies that take us into the future with the rest of the globe, we ought to see this reality reflected in our children's books. This is the Africa that excites me the most; the way in which we negotiate our lives between our first and third world structures. The changes that have taken place in my own neighbourhood since the abolition of the Group Areas Act means that I have no further to look than my street to find stories that combine all my interests. That's pretty cool!

Other interests:

Babara: At one point, you had a go at a singing career, even moving to London with a recording contract. Tell us a bit about that and whether/how singing is still part of your professional life.

Niki: making music, that is writing songs and singing them, is a very essential part of being me, even though I am not performing at this time. What I have been exploring is telling my stories to music. When I'm with a group of children, it is 'the performer' in me that comes through. But at the age of sixty, I look for ways of performing economically and gracefully. No dressing up like a rabbit and jumping around!

Babara: What are your current projects writing and illustrating books or otherwise?

Niki: I have a couple of dummy books circulating among publishers - those are mock-ups of the books I'd like my ideas to become. But, as I mentioned - in the past year, I have had more ideas rejected than ever before. Does this mean I might be getting it right, OR, I have lost it? Time will tell. So I am keeping an open mind for the next year or so, before abandoning any of my dummies. Meanwhile, I have a wonderful story by Shelia Moses sent to me to illustrate by Scholastic. For this, I have to imagine myself back in the sixties (not at all difficult for me to do!) and into the skin of a little African American girl called Sallie Gal (not very difficult for me to do!) and imagine what her life with her Momma in a little town in North Carolina was like (research, research, research!). The book will have stacks of black and white drawings. And if you are a drawer like I am, there's nothing better than that!

Janet van Eerden Interview:

Janet: What led you to writing and illustrating children’s books rather than books for adults?

Niki: The thing I love doing most, is drawing. There was a time when adult fiction was illustrated, and if that were still so, I might choose to illustrate for adults. But having plugged into my market I have discovered that I not only want to draw for children but to write stories that might interest them. It’s dangerous to imagine one has something of worth to share with other people so I write and draw to entertain myself first and then send the stuff off to my publishers. So far, there appears to be a market for the things I draw and write about. And that’s pretty cool because it’s the only thing can do.

Janet: I know you’ve been quoted as saying that children’s books should be respected as much as books for adults, so I would like you to explain how you bring all your life’s experiences into writing and illustrating children’s books.

Niki: I do think that while a lot about writing is craft that there’s a mysterious aspect to it. So when I have an idea/theme/story in my head, my writing is guided by some external stimulus as well as a certain amount of unconscious ‘leakage’ from my past and what I call ‘yearnings’ for a life more perfect than mine was as a child. This aside, writing text that accompanies pictures is a very specific form that needs to be understood. So one should not imagine that the same rigors involved in writing for adults qualify a writer to write for children. I’ve had a stab at writing for older readers and I think that writing for children is more difficult because you have only 32 pages in which to create a full story and characters that must be as believable and satisfying as a 156 page novel.

Janet: What is the most vital thing a parent can do to encourage his or her child to enjoy reading? And what age would you encourage parents to start reading to their children?

Niki: I started sharing picture books with my boys when they were old enough to sit on my lap and hold their heads up. I admit that I did this for no good reason other than feeling very bored with an 18 month old baby sitting on my lap. So I read, pointed to pictures and talked. By the time they stopped sitting on my lap or lolling up against me in bed, we’d read pretty much all the best contemporary children’s books and also lots of classics. Selfishly, I was getting a reading experience that I never had as a child, so I loved that time and was sad when it came to an end. I must say, I read quite a few stories that a child physcologist would have condemned me for – such as the disturbing stories of Edward Gorey, Grimm and Chris van Allsberg. Joe, now 27 years old tells me they scared him stiff, BUT that they were the BEST stories. In my defense, I only read scary stories during the day and comforting ones at bedtime. As for encouraging parents to read to their children – it helps if parents are readers themselves, of course. And I guess most parents who read for themselves read to their children –so they are taken care of. But how to encourage reading in a family who have never been part of a book culture? Well, all parents want the best for their children, so we must find a way of connecting rewards to reading and enjoying books. Somehow, we need to prove to parents that there’s a connection between early exposure to books and doing well at school and becoming a smarter more curious person for the rest of your life.

In the absence of a parental initiative, libraries and librarians are our best hope for instilling a book culture in South Africa. And that’s why it’s crucial that they are supported in their work. My fear is that, in a world that seems to be succumbing to full scale dumbing down, library services and librarians will disappear and not even be noticed by people who have never experience the life changing effect books have on people. That’s a bit glum, I know. But ask any librarian and they will tell you they feel embattled.

It may seem like an obvious question but what are the benefits of encouraging children to read at an early age? (Honestly, I think there are some parents out there who really don’t know!)

Janet: Which was your very first book published for children? Could you tell me about it and how it came about? What was the impetus for that book?

Niki: It was called “The Little Girl who lived Down the Road” (published in1978 by Collins, London). At that time I joined the Association of Illustrators in London and met Eliza Trimby, a children’s illustrator. While I was doing educational illustration, Eliza was involved in fabulous picture books that were magical. So with her encouragement I changed gear and started to study picture books in my local library. This way, I learnt what made a picture book work for me and what made it a lousy book. Then on train trip to Brighton one summer, a story and pictures all fell into place for me. I did that book very much under the towering shadow of Maurice Sendak, whose work I adored and found very helpful in guiding me into childrens books. It’s a quaintly odd book, now only found on online rare book sites.

Janet: This is probably a question you’ve been asked many times, but which of your books is your favourite and why?

Niki: That’s difficult – they are ALL my children. But I love it when other people’ s children respond to my work. And the book little children respond to in a very involved way is Mama Papa and Baby Joe. I’ve been stopped in shopping malls by mums who then get their toddlers to recite lines and verses from that book. “This is the man who wrote Mama, Papa and Baby Joe, darling!” they say. I love it when the kids look SO unimpressed! I mean does it matter when you’re a few feet away from Toys R Us!

Janet: Did your children enjoy your books when they were small? Do you have any anecdotes about them reading your books and which was their favourite?

Niki: Okay, there were ‘real books’ – those you got from the library or bought. Then there were these books that their father sweated and cursed over. Those were never read, expect the one that was never published called The Jellybutton Brown Band. They loved that one and to this day, discourage me from getting it published. They see it as THEIR book. One of the funny memories was after a ‘duty reading’ reading session with Joe. He was still on the Janet and John reading series. Well after a couple of pages of “See John jump…John jumps over the stick…look Janet, see John jump over the stick” and so on, Joe piped up “John’s such a show off!” I realized then that children really bring their own reading of our texts. And that’s why I do not favour a purist view that children must only read quality. As a child I had a really kitsch Walt Disney Bugs Bunny Golden Picture Book. It had no literary worth, but for me it was a glimpse into a fabulous world of eight tiered birthday cakes and fun. For a kid growing up in a dysfunctional family with an alcoholic parent it was a totally captivating and I guess a therapeutic book.

Janet: Can you think of suggestions for parents to make the most of that time with their children?

Niki: Yes, TELL each other stories in candlelight. I use to tell stories to my kids under the duvet in darkness. They’d be able to control the drift of the story by prompting me - “Scary, go scary!’ or when it became too chilling - ‘Funny, do funny!’ and so on. Families can do chain story telling were the story is passed around a circle. Literary quizzes are also fun. Or guessing a fictional character from a number of clues. Guess this one – “I’m loud….very loud!”

Janet: Tell me about your latest book, The Squeaky Creaky Bed. What made you think of that story?

Niki: That story was sent to me by my friend Pat Thomson who lives in a little village of Oundle in the UK. Pat’s an anthologist and has an enormous treasure of stories to draw from, so her stories often have a classical form – such as the episodic structure of The Squeaky, Creaky Bed. She is also a very funny person and it comes out in her writing, and I love that. But I must say, when I realized that the bed appears on every page together with a patchwork bedspread – I had to find a short cut for the illustrations. This I found by using the computer for the first time. So I have Pat to thank…or blame for my current way of illustrating on a monitor and not of paper.

Janet: Anything else you can think of that you want to add?

Niki: Having sustained a career AND seeing my children through school, dental expenses and them aquring a lifestyle that I have yet to get used to, I am most grateful for having a way of earning a living that is also a way of living my life. Generally, writers who write for children are not as celebrated as those who write for adults, so we must find our rewards away from the spotlight. And I feel more than rewarded…I feel blessed, by the children I meet and am privileged to call my friends. I’m simply dedicated to them.

Niki Daly’s comments on some books

Not so fast Songololo

I saw an old Goga and her grandson along Claremont main road one Christmas, and started to imagine where they were going. What made me spot them in the crowd was their appearance - she, large and slow (like a liner coming into port) and he small and confident - leading granny through the crowds like a little tug boat. By the time I got home I had a story about a granny taking her grandson shopping and buying him shoes - something that used to happen to me as a child. It's a very simple story but because I remembered what it is like to go shopping with an old granny, I was able to communicate through the words and drawings the love between the two characters.

Not so Fast Songololo is regarded by many as a milestone book in South African children's literature simply because it depicts and black child in the city. Up until then, black children in picture books were mostly part (and a secondary part at that) of stories about white farm children.

Vlieg Arend Vlieg/Fly Eagle Fly

Bishop Chrisopher Gregorowski told this story to his daughter, Rosalind, who was suffering from an incurable illness. The message being that we all have a true destiny to fufill. The story however was first used by a Ghanain missionary, known as Aggrey of Africa, in the 1930's as a parable teaching liberation to Africans during a period of colonialisation.

I first illustrated the story in the 1980's (check my bibliography). Then it was done in two colours - as was the case with most children's book at the time. In 2000 I agreed to reillustrate it in full colour - at a time when South Africa was enjoying its first taste of freedom and democracy. So it is very pertinent to the South African experience and the story is now told by Bishop Tutu (an old friend of the author) as a lesson in empowerment - whatever way that applies - spiritually or politically.

I have never visited the Transkei nor am I an outdoors sort of person and so the pictures are really what I imagine it all to be like. One reviewer commented on the 'illustrator's profound knowledge' of the Transkei, which I thought was very funny for someone who's knowledge of the Transkei came from a few slides.

All the Magic in the world

Written by Wendy Hartman - I love working on stories that I wish I had written. And this is one of them. I very much liked and related to the theme of finding value in things that are discarded by most people. As a young boy, I collected junk and whenever my father needed a certain screw, or nut or peice of leather strap, or glass - I HAD IT!

I used to also play make believe with my 'junk toys'.

The last line in the book is wonderful - where old Joseph asks the children 'where they think the magic is found"

In retrospect, I am not pleased with the illustrations. I am learning all the time and would do them now in much more simple way, with a little less colour. But in the end we do what is in us to do at a particular moment in time and it usually expresses where we are at that time and therefore a thing of value.

I have less of a struggle drawing these days but I am also aware that much of the feeling in my work is born out of what I call 'wrestling an image onto paper" Often, I find that images that show signs of 'risk taking' are more exciting than work that comes too easily.

The Dancer

I co-wrote the story, which is an interesting excercise - especially between a male and female writer. When Nola sent me the story it had more atmosphere than action - I gave it the action and Nola provided the other worldliness about a girl going in search of the Rain Maiden. I worked out a way of drawing which hints at the rock painting without copying paintings - which I thought would be a less creative approach. By the time I had rejected basket fulls of attempts, I felt as though I was drawing with a similar energy as a Bushman artist but drawing in my own way. I am happy with the figures in the book, but anyone who has studied the animal paintings done on rock by Bushman artists will know that they not only understood the anatomy of wild animals but also the energy and magical associations. In otherwords, they are masters at it. I could only achieve an aproximation. My aim was to capture some of the essence associated with dreams and magic. At the time I seemed to be visited in my studio by a number of preying mantises, which I took as a good sign.

Jamela's Dress

I love Mnandi's - the Obs shop that sells African prints. And I love little girls who dress up and pretend they are off to weddings. I also remember rubbing myself against my mother's sun warmed sheets as they hung out to dry. As a writer as well as an illustrator, I work very much from the inside out - a process that, as a writer, I understand. So my drawings are felt, rather than observed. I often put myself into the emotions and positions of my characters as I draw them. So I draw sadness, happiness and so on, rather than drawing someone who has drooped shoulders in order to symbolise sadness.

Jamela is a township child. I am often asked why, as a white South African male I set my stories in townships. Well, as a child I grew up on the streets of a working class suburb (Obs) and that is were I know life happens. But these days, the streets of white suburbs are sadly lacking in street life. So, I go to the townships to draw the parade of people, taxi's and crazy people like Mrs Zibi chasing after her chicken.

I am an artist who loves observing people and drawing them. I have an eye for an event and so I can capture them out of the corner of my eye however fleeting they are . Then I build on what I see and draw from what I have experienced in my life. In this way, my stories are an amalgum of events seen and my own history.

Bravo Zan Angelo

I would have been a stage performer had I not been able to do perform on paper. So this book is a bit of both. I love Venice and went there to research the layout of the city and painters who painted Carnival scenes. I also did a lot of valuable study at the Cape Town City Library where I came across the diaries of Marin Sanudo who describes performances of the Commedia del'arte and life during the 18th Century. The rest is my imagination. I love the opening sentance and cameo picture of the little boy, Zan Angelo, as he walks towards the piazza. It's very fine to love things that you have created - even if nobody else does. In fact my favourite books are those that have not won prizes, awards and reached good sales figures. rather they are ones that I feel are slightly out of this world.

Yebo Jamela!/ What's cooking Jamela

Same book, different titles for South African and overseas market. Oddly, I was inspired to write this story while doing research for The Dancer. While going through the Bleek/Lloyd transcribed stories told by Bushman, I came across a story about a child who is given a hare, brought in from a hunt, to play with. When the time comes to kill the hare for a meal, the adults attempt to separate the boy and his hare. IN the true account, the hare is killed and the child remembers the story as a sad tale. IN another version, written by the poet Arthur Markowitz, the boy outwits the adults and sets the hare free.

I often carry seeds of ideas to be grown into picture books at a later stage. So when a story about christmas seemed a nice vehicle for Jamela, I thought about letting her save a chicken from the chrismas pot. Of course, I have added to the sentiments expressed in the tale of a bushman child by adding drama and a statement that comes from Jamela when she says "You can't eat your friends". I do have a good recall of my childhood and the way children experience an adult world and express themselves.

My medium is water colour, which I have landed up with, rather than it being something I love doing. In fact, water colour is a terrible medium for illustration. If you mess up you have to start all over again. And given that a picture book offers plenty of opportunity for messing up, it is a nerve wracking medium. But it is one that keeps me away from overworking. My least favourite art is art that is overworked.

Boy on the Beach

After 1994 the group areas act and separate emenities act was abolished which meant that all South Africans could enjoy going to beaches that were once for "Whites Only", So when I spotted a little brown skin boy on Fish Hoek beach in his stars and stripes bathing trunks, I could not resist the opportunity to capture the experience. I recall that he was on his own, playing at the water's edge in the sand. I had also heard that for hundreds of township children, many never go to the beach or see the sea. As someone who grew up at the coast, it seemed extraordinary that there were children in South African who do not know what it is to spend time at the sea, with their toes in the sand and dipping into waves. So I did this book to try and capture the excitment of a child high on ozone and full of energy. In a way, these pictures show me at my best - capturing not only mood but atmosphere and people in all shapes and sizes and moods. Again, the perspective of the child is what I am working with - depicting a boy's reluctance to venture too far into the ocean - because there's just too much water for such a little boy to relate to.

I might add that brown skin is not easy to paint in water colours - unlike 'white' where a few dabs of 'flesh' and pink will do the job. The pigment in generic brown water colours is not the most transparent mediums - so one can easily get streaks, or muddied blotchy effects instead of the warm copper velevety texture that make brown skins so lovely to look at. So I was pleased with the skin tones I achieved in the original art. There is a fair amount of orange and yellow under painting to give the skins a glow. However, the South African edition was so badly reproduced that the browns turned to a sickly khaki.

My final comment it that as a writer/illustrator, my pictures cannot be appreciated in isolation from each other. They help to tell the story that I only partly tell in words. They communicate the feelings behind the words. There is a dictum in writing for children's picture books which is 'show, don't tell'. And that's really where the art lies.

Return to Homepage