Five Five-​Word Picture Book Reviews: A Wild Windy Night; If You Run Out of Words; Mama in the Moon; Roar-​Choo!; This Is Not My Lunchbox!

Things went sideways with my plans for May, so we’ll launch the month with the increasingly (in)famous Five-​W0rd Reviews instead of our regularly scheduled joint PB review.

Here we go!


Author: Yui Abe
Illustrator: Yui Abe
Museyon
1 April 2024
40 pages

Ryan’s five-​word review: Windswept fun–bedtime fears goodbye!

4 out of 5 yawns


Author: Felicita Sala
Illustrator: Felicita Sala
Harry N. Abrams
9 April 2024
48 pages

Ryan’s five-​word review: Worried child, wonderful word-​weaving dad.

4.5 out of 5 bedtime questions


Author: Doreen Cronin
Illustrator: Brian Cronin
Rocky Pond Books
30 January 2024
40 pages

Ryan’s five-​word review: Moonlight magic for tiny worries.

4.25 out of 5 Mama hugs


Author: Charlotte Cheng
Illustrator: Dan Santat
Rocky Pond Books
9 April 2024
40 pages

Ryan’s five-​word review: Cold-​ridden dragon learns to rest.

4.25 out of 5 cups of tea


Author: Jennifer Dupuis
Illustrator: Carol Schwartz
Tilbury House
16 April 2024
32 pages

Ryan’s five-​word review: Tasty text–terrific animal treats.

4 out of 5 wiggly worms

Picture Book Review: A Party for Florine by Yevgenia Nayberg

A Party for Florine: Florine Stettheimer and Me
Author: Yevgenia Nayberg
Illustrator: Yevgenia Nayberg
Neal Porter Books
16 July 2024
40 pages

This month’s PB review is by Ryan G. Van Cleave (Owner/​Operator of Only Picture Books) and author-​illustrator Bonnie Kelso, a good friend of the OPB family.

Ryan’s Review of the Writing

I’ve been a fan of Yevgenia Nayberg’s books since the publication of Martin & Me, which eschewed the typical picture book biography format and instead offered parallel stories of Martin Luther King Jr. and Anne Frank. Similarly, her new book, A Party for Florine is an unusual take on the life and work of a famous person–Modernist painter Florine Stettheimer.

The story begins with a girl entering a museum and coming across a painting of a girl that looked a lot like herself. The girl in the painting “was holding a palette and brushes.” The narrator says she’s an artist, too, so she decided: “I must learn all about her!”

Here, we get some of the typical picture book biographical material, such as the artist’s full name, her date of birth, and where she lived. But it’s filtered through the narrator’s mind, which works to contextualize the information through her own life. Perhaps the artist’s Jewish family “was just like my Jewish family” she wonders. It’s an effective technique.

The narrator is charmed to learn about the famous people who visited Florine and attended her parties. And the narrator has an artist’s eye for colors and images throughout all she shares with the reader. Even in her regular life (sitting in her room during a rainstorm or walking outside the next day, etc.), she’s clearly affected by the effect of Florine–she sees more brightly and brilliantly similar to how Florine painted (and lived).

I’m especially taken by how often the narrator reframes things in her own world, such as her striped T‑shirts, comparing Florine’s art teacher to her own, or noting how the Alwyn Court building “looked like a slice of giant cake”. When she imagines a party she’d like to hold for Florine, she does even more of this: “I would decorate the table with giant flowers as big as bicycle wheels.” Lovely. I think young readers will respond quite well to this kind of evocative language here and elsewhere in the text.

The story ends with the narrator seeing the world anew, which demonstrates the positive effect of Florine’s influence on her. Would it be more pronounced if we had a stronger sense of how the narrator saw the world prior to this seminal museum experience? Perhaps.

The book includes a lengthy Author’s Note which explains how the author first learned about the painter. It also offers many of the details I yearned for earlier in the story, such as:

  • Was the narrator researching the girl in the painting or the author of the painting? (It was a self portrait, so both)
  • How big was Florine’s family? (She was the fourth of five siblings, one of four girls)
  • Did Florine’s famous friends become characters in her paintings? (Frequently they did!)
  • How famous/​successful was Florine in her own time? (It seems as if she enjoyed modest success in her lifetime but after her death, her reputation grew a good deal)
  • Did success matter to Florine? (Apparently, she was independently wealthy–though I had to Google for this)
  • How did Florine feel about sharing her art? (“Letting people have your paintings is like letting them wear your clothes,” is SUCH a good line that I wanted it in the main text vs the two pages of Author’s Notes)
  • Did Florine write poetry as the main character (perhaps) did? (Yes)

The Author’s Note gave me pause by mentioning how Florine studied art in Germany (Stuttgart) with “Fräulein Sophie von Prieser,” but in the main text, it was in Vienna (Austria). I might be missing an implied transition somewhere, though I always worry that young readers will miss as much (or more) than I do, so this is the type of thing I focus on as a picture book creator and editor. (It’s important to note that young readers also see more than some adults via their own creative observations and connections–they’re not less capable, just different!)

There’s a noticeable emotional undercurrent here that I’m unsure what to do with. It starts at first glance of the painting, where the narrator is talking about herself as “someone I knew too well.” And lines later, the girl she’s identifying with in the painting is described as someone with fiery eyes who could “start crying at any moment.” There’s also the self-​doubt revealed by her being unable to believe her art teacher who says “Good job.” There’s more here beyond this, but as I said, it’s not a clear throughline that informs the story despite catching my attention.

In sum, this is a story that goes beyond the typical picture book biography in an imaginative, interesting way. In one sense, it’s also the story of how one creative finds inspiration in the life and work of another, but it’s also about helping readers of today learn about neglected figures from the past. Clearly, Florine is someone whose life and work is well worth considering.

4 out of 5 pencils


Bonnie’s Review of the Illustrations

Yevgenia Nayberg’s illustrations perfectly complement her story about New York painter, poet, and salonnière Florine Stettheimer. Colorful figures bend and float expressively in ever-​shifting planes of existence as Nayberg evokes the spirit of the celebrated Modernist’s style. It’s no wonder she has created this book, for when you see the first spread, a self-​portrait of Florine stares back at you, and it could very well be the face of the author-​illustrator as well.

As you move through the story the present is juxtaposed with the past as the young narrator leans into her imagination. Clever details piqued my interest, like the large still life with our narrator miniaturized and perched on a peach. Next to her a bouquet of flowers—mixed with artist tools—is tagged with a mysterious love note from Marcel Duchamp to Florine’s sister.

Visible brush strokes, collage elements, subtle textures, and charming speech bubbles add to the delightful Jazz Age renderings. Spot on portraits of historical figures pepper the scenes and give  you a sense of the high society world Florine was a part of.

A particularly beautiful spread near the end of the book resonates like poetry as the text and imagery bring to mind the Greek goddess Persephone. Florine leaves the scene as a trail of flowers bloom behind her. Like demigods, artists find a version of immortality through the sharing of their work past their natural life. I encourage any lover of art, young or old, to add this book to their collection.

5 out of 5 paintbrushes


Bonnie Kelso loves diving into the details of art history, especially when it’s about an artist who rubbed elbows with Gertrude Stein and Georgia O’Keeffe.

Bonnie is the author and illustrator of three picture books with more on the way. Her debut, Nudi Gill: Poison Powerhouse of the Sea, was selected to represent Nevada at the 2023 National Book Festival in Washington, D.C. Her most recent release, Sea Smiles, is the first book in a series that blends childhood milestones with fascinating facts about sea animals.

A graduate of the Rhode Island School of Design, Bonnie’s past experience in art spans a spectrum, from abstract painting on canvas to museum-​quality exhibit design. She has worked with clients such as the Smithsonian, National Geographic, and NASA.

She lives in Las Vegas with her partner, two sons, a Boston Terrier, and an unruly cat. To learn more about Bonnie’s work, please visit www.BonnieKelso.com.

Picture Book Review: Daisy the Daydreamer by Jennifer P. Goldfinger

DAISY THE DAYDREAMER

Neal Porter Books
12 March 2024
32 pages
This month’s PB review is by Ryan G. Van Cleave (Owner/​Operator of Only Picture Books) and longtime OPB friend, Austin McKinley.

—Ryan’s Review of the Writing—

Daisy the Daydreamer is more than just a charming picture book; it’s a useful lesson in the power of “show, don’t tell” storytelling. In this new picture book, Jennifer P. Goldfinger uses vivid language and relatable scenarios to paint a picture of Daisy’s imaginative world without ever explicitly labeling her a daydreamer beyond the title. However, it’s worth noting that other picture books share the exact same “Daisy the Daydreamer” title, which makes me wonder if another option might be more effective.

The book’s opening lines immediately set the stage: “She walks with her feet on the ground and her head in the clouds.” This simple image evokes a sense of whimsical distraction, subtly introducing the core theme. The story continues weaving this theme through Daisy’s daily life. Instead of telling us she’s lost in thought, we see it visually through the expressive illustrations that often depict her battling a whimsical cloud of distraction–Austin will talk about that in more detail in a moment. This creative choice allows young readers to discover Daisy’s personality for themselves, making the connection stronger.

The book also understands the importance of emotional beats. When Daisy initially misses her chance to be line leader, the weight of her disappointment is palpable. Goldfinger uses simple language (“Daisy’s cloud rains”) and a shift in the illustrations to convey her sadness. This emotional authenticity allows readers to empathize with Daisy, making her triumph all the sweeter.

The resolution, where Daisy’s artistic ability earns her a special role, is well done. It affirms that while daydreaming might get in the way sometimes, our unique perspectives and talents hold value. This message is delivered organically through the narrative, making it far more impactful than a direct statement.

While Daisy the Daydreamer is endearing, it does leave room for deeper exploration. Subtly hinting at learning differences without explicitly naming them aligns with the author’s intent, as revealed in her note, but might be even more impactful with direct exploration. Additionally, a more nuanced ending hinting at Daisy’s continuing journey could offer an additional level to readers.

Overall, Goldfinger’s new picture book is a example of how picture books can teach valuable lessons about self-​expression and finding your place in the world. Its gentle storytelling and heartwarming message will likely resonate with child and adult readers alike.

4 out of 5 pencils

—Austin’s Review of the Illustrations—

Bias alert–one of the themes of “Daisy the Daydreamer” is that what artists have to offer–our leadership, our value, our specialness–can be in knowing just what to draw for the occasion. Cartoonist Jennifer P. Goldfinger exemplifies that perfectly in Daisy, synthesizing both text and visual language to create a gestalt few writer/​illustrator teams achieve. To enrich the words of this charming coming-​of-​age story, Goldfinger has developed a sophisticated primitivism that seems childlike at first blush but unfolds with layers of adroit observation and intentional playfulness. Easy to suggest, hard to accomplish.

Look at how the texture in the mother’s polka dots are postmarks from Geneva, or how the print of the teacher’s dress is text from a dictionary. How the back of a sketchbook clutched to the chest creates an interaction with the surrounding white space. The gentle pools of watercolor that both ground us in the world or envelop us in each cleverly staged narrative moment. All of it embellishes Goldfinger’s expressive cartooning of the figure in the simplest terms. How Daisy slouches at her desk, grovels in supplication, beams with delight.

The lifting of the story is shared–sometimes carried by the text, sometimes the picture alone, shifting seamlessly between showing and telling to say only what most needs to be said.

No child or adult who needs this story could fail to identify with the visual shorthand of Daisy’s head enveloped in a swirling cloud of ideas and possibilities, constantly making lateral connections from a deep well of imagination. Nor miss the danger of being too disconnected from the here and now.

Whether it’s the cloud of daydreams raining or drawing Daisy high into the stratosphere of opportunity, the artwork perfectly captures the emotional subtext of the story. They show you how it feels to be in it. The frustration of struggling to keep the clouds of creativity from your eyes long enough to capture words you should be hearing before they tumble to the floor. Of being weighed down by it, and occasionally, using it to express an idea that can’t be expressed in any other way.

Even if the reader isn’t a person challenged with occasionally discordant aptitudes, seeing how it feels can only help in the development of empathy and support for those so blessed. Through Jennifer Goldfinger’s compelling narrative illustrations, anybody can see what it feels like to be Daisy, and thereby know the Daisys in their lives a little better.

4 out of 5 crayons


Austin McKinley makes comic books, cartoons, movies, video games, screenplays, novels and novellas through his company, Flying Car. He shot and appeared in the award-​winning feature documentary The New 8‑Bit Heroes alongside director Joe Granato. His comic illustrations have also been published by Image Shadowline, Devil’s Due/​1st Comics, Alias/​Blue Water Press, Avatar, Boom!, Blue King Studios, and FC9. He wrote and illustrated Squareasota, a weekly cartoon in the Sarasota Herald-​Tribune for seven years.

Most recently, he illustrated Tales of Mr. Rhee vol. 5: Rockstar Paranoia, a graphic novel, BLAZE ya Dead Homie, a one-​shot comic book, and wrote and illustrated RIOT Force, a creator-​owned comic series for Source Point Press.

Picture Book Review: Five Five-​Word Reviews

I’ve got the next six months scheduled out with regular co-​written picture book review, but for this month, we’re having another installment of the increasingly (in)famous Five-​W0rd Reviews. Here we go!


Author: Wendelin Van Draanen
Illustrator: Cornelia Li
Knopf Books for Young Readers
16 January 2024
40 pages

Ryan’s five-​word review: Soaring imagination defies gravity’s pull.

4.5 out of 5 Newton’s apples


Author: Aaron Becker
Illustrator: Aaron Becker
Candlewick
12 March 2024
40 pages

Ryan’s five-​word review: Robots rescue animals. Wordless wonder.

4.75 out of 5 lifeboats


Author: Kim Hillyard
Illustrator: Kim Hillyard
Penguin Workshop
30 January 2024
32 pages

Ryan’s five-​word review: Tiny fly dreams big. Audacious.

4.5 out of 5 mountain peaks


Hippo Park
16 January 2024
48 pages

Ryan’s five-​word review: Unlikely bond. Tender girl-​and-​scab story.

4.25 out of 5 boo-boos


Author: Ying Chang Compestine
Illustrator: Crystal Kung
Rocky Pond Books
2 January 2024
40 pages

Ryan’s five-​word review: Flavorful twist on Rapunzel. Palate-pleasing.

4.25 out of 5 tofu cubes

Picture Book Review: José Feeds the World by David Unger, illustrations by Marta Álvarez Miguéns

José Feeds the World
Author: David Unger
Illustrator: Marta Álvarez Miguéns
duopress
30 January 2024
40 pages

This month’s PB review is by Ryan G. Van Cleave (Owner/​Operator of Only Picture Books) and Ringling College of Art and Design Illustration Professor (and OPB pal) David C. Gardner.

 

–Ryan’s Review of the Writing–

I’m always interested in the behind-​the-​scenes story of a real-​world hero’s life, and that’s what this book promises to deliver, being pitched this way: “The true story of José Andrés, an award-​winning chef, food activist, and founder of World Central Kitchen, a disaster-​relief organization that uses the power of food to nourish communities after catastrophe strikes.”

To tackle that big task, author David Unger tells the entire trajectory of José’s life, beginning with him as a child who learns to help others after witnessing his parents do that very thing in their jobs as nurses in Spain. They also loved to cook, and the kitchen soon became José’s favorite room in the house. This is where readers begin to get both the flavors of food (“the smell of rice, saffron, chicken, and sausage floating in the air”) and the sound of the Spanish language (cocina, paella, etc.) directly in the text.

José attends a Barcelona cooking school at 15 and becomes a chef’s assistant and a world-​famous restaurant. A few years later, off to the US he went where he cooked in New York City before opening his own restaurant in Washington D.C.  Thanks to his love for food and his skill in cooking, José began earning award after honor after critical acclaim.

That’s the end of a version of this story that simply tells how a young Spanish boy became a food rock star. But that’s not José’s story. Instead, he became deeply affected by the 2010 earthquake that devastated much of Haiti. Just as he did as a child, José wanted to help others. So, he gathered a group of friends and went there to cook for the survivors.

After returning to D.C., José knew he could do more for others who needed help. He founded World Central Kitchen, a nonprofit dedicated to providing free meals to survivors of natural and human-​made disasters in communities all over the world. The story follows his work to support people affected by disasters in Puerto Rico, the Bahamas, and Guatemala, as well as COVID-​related challenges in California, New York City, and the Navajo Nation. There’s even a very brief mention of the Ukranian Food Fighters at the end.

Without a doubt, José is doing amazing work that’s worth knowing about and supporting. The key to making a successful nonfiction picture book biography–or any picture book, for that matter–is to find a way to make the story kidcentric. Why? Because if a kid reader doesn’t love the story enough to ask for re-​readings, it’s a one-​and-​done book regardless of the book’s other merits (such as beautiful art, which is the case here).

I worry that Unger sacrificed too much of the potential emotional depth of the story to portray a more exhaustive recounting of José’s entire life and career, and to put the focus so much on the many efforts of the World Central Kitchen. Another way that might make this book more kidcentric would be to embrace the parts of this story that kids would most likely be drawn to, such as the wonder, magic, and even the sound of food. We have a bit of that at the start, but it gives way to the robust biographical journey that follows.

Directly addressing the reader in the last page (“And one day you, too, will find your calling and make the world a better place”) seems to address the above concern. Does it work? Like the Ukranian mention, it feels more of an afterthought, though I’m pleased the Career Day visuals suggest all kinds of interesting future careers. If it only depicted a chef? That wouldn’t be a hit with most kids, I imagine.

The mission of this story is a very good one, and José Andrés comes across as an admirable humanitarian. There’s a strong sense of a connected world community and a positive sense of diversity here in both the text and the accompanying visuals. I hope this book brings a lot of attention to the World Central Kitchen since that appears to be the main course of this literary meal.

4 out of 5 pencils

 

–David’s Review of the Illustrations–

Spanish illustrator Marta Alvarez Miguéns starts on a sweet note, showing the roots of José’s compassion: as a boy, in the hospital where his parents worked, bringing water to an elderly patient. His love for cooking starts with his mom in the kitchen. He makes paella with his dad.

In a lovely, abstract flight of fantasy, young José floats dreamily over a giant kitchen table, spices, chicken, and utensils arrayed like a fanciful village, reminiscent of Maurice Sendak’s In the Night Kitchen. Miguéns takes flight again later in the book, depicting a grown-​up José filling a steaming pot with vegetables that swirl magically around his head, a magician in the kitchen.

The pictures unfold in travelogue fashion now. José, a teenager, approaches cooking school in Barcelona. He cooks in restaurant jobs in New York and Washington, D.C. In a masterstroke, Miguéns brings the two threads of his life together in a touching double spread: a line in a soup kitchen, each person’s face depicted with care and a poignant dignity as they wait, bundled against the cold.

2010, and José responds to reports of the earthquake in Haiti and flies down to help. An image of local volunteers building rows of sandwiches is especially effective, hundreds of sandwiches laid out in a vast grid. Miguéns is mindful of showing other characters helping José in nearly every picture, suggesting humility in the chef. He is not doing this alone.

Next, it’s off to the Bahamas to help, then Guatemala. COVID appears, along with surgical masks, and Miguéns whisks us to the American Southwest, where José and his team help feed the Navajo nation. From California farm workers to Harlem hospital workers, we land in current-​day Ukraine, where José’s organization enlists locals to feed the broken victims of war.

The world events are grim, but Miguéns’ illustrations are hopeful. Each generous spread unfolds like a bright mural. Her vibrant, colorful illustrations remind me of Mary GrandPré’s fluid, almost abstract handling of the human form. Flat shapes tumble and interlock; steam, smoke, flowers, and plants spill and flow over the pages.

The pictures end on a lovely high note: children dressed up for Career Day. A kid in the center wears a chef’s costume. In a clever move, Miguéns has him wearing a cape and raising a spoon like a sword, or a scepter–a superhero, a knight, or a king.

José comes across as all three.

5 out of 5 crayons


David C. Gardner is an award-​winning illustrator and visual development artist. A former artist for Walt Disney Animation Studios, he has illustrated numerous picture books, including Write On, Irving Berlin! by Leslie Kimmelman (which appeared on OPB in May 2018). Published by Sleeping Bear Press, that book won a 2021 Charlotte Award from the New York State Reading Association. His forthcoming picture book is Junia, The Book Mule of Troublesome Creek, written by New York Times bestselling author Kim Michele Richardson. It follows Junia, the spunky mule from the bestselling The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek series, in a picture book tribute to Kentucky’s Great Depression Pack Horse Library Project. It’s due from Sleeping Bear Press in March 2024. David teaches illustration at Ringling College of Art and Design.

To learn more about David’s own work, please visit FlyingDogStudio.com.

Picture Book Review: I’m Gonna Paint: Ralph Fasanella, Artist of the People by Anne Broyles, illustrated by Victoria Tentler-Krylov

Holiday House
7 November 2023
48 pages
This month’s PB review is by Ryan G. Van Cleave (Owner/​Operator of Only Picture Books) and longtime OPB friend, Austin McKinley.

—Ryan’s Review of the Writing—

I’m Gonna Paint: Ralph Fasanella, Artist of the People, authored by Anne Broyles and vibrantly illustrated by Victoria Tentler-​Krylov, is a welcome children’s picture book that paints a portrait of Ralph Fasanella’s life with the same fervor and detail the artist himself devoted to his canvases. The book captures Ralph’s journey from a tenacious New York kid to an iconic artist, echoing his dedication to portraying the working-​class experience.

Broyles’ prose dances between simplicity and evocativeness, achieving a balance that engages young readers while touching on mature themes. For instance, in describing Ralph’s early life, Broyles writes, “Ralph often wandered the city until dinnertime, observing the colors, shapes, and textures of the glowing streetlights against the brick buildings. Instead of going to school, he taught himself how to read by studying newspapers on the subway.” Such language not only builds Ralph’s world but also immerses the reader in the symphony of city life that influenced his art.

Tentler-​Krylov’s illustrations must be praised for their dynamism and how they echo Fasanella’s own style—bold, colorful, and brimming with narrative. One can almost feel the texture of the city’s energy in the spread that captures Ralph amidst the clamor and chaos of a labor protest. I’ll let Austin say more about that below in his part.

The narrative deftly weaves Fasanella’s passion for social justice with his artistic development. In a powerful scene, Broyles describes how “It took Ralph three years to create eighteen paintings of workers protesting, union leaders making speeches, militiamen with bayonets, mill owners watching from inside the mills, and more. It was his masterpiece.” This parallel between Ralph’s art and the movement of the American workforce underscores the book’s theme of solidarity and community.

Geared towards children aged 4–8, the book doesn’t shy away from difficult topics like labor rights, instead presenting them through the lens of art and storytelling, making complex concepts a bit more accessible and relatable. The story champions the idea that everyone has the power to create change, aligning with current educational values promoting agency and expression.

In sum, I’m Gonna Paint is an homage to a self-​made artist and a call to recognize the beauty and power in one’s own creativity. It’s a vivid reminder of art’s ability to capture and change the zeitgeist, likely resonating with young readers, educators, and parents for its depth and beauty.

4 out of 5 pencils

 

—Austin’s Review of the Illustrations—

For an illustrator to tackle a children’s book celebrating the life and work of a recognizable modern artist is no simple undertaking. Especially when the artist in question is a primitive whose primary subject matter is a psychological impression of the world in which he grew up. It means that a lot of the reductionist tools an illustrator might use to simplify, streamline, and evoke the spirit of the book’s hero conflict with the journalistic need to echo the subject’s own sensibility; to represent his world, work, and legacy in a specific and recognizable way.

In short, how was Victoria Tentler-​Krylov supposed to give us a picture book that looked and felt like the world as artist Ralph Fasanella saw it, and pay homage to that interpretation without directly imitating his style? How, indeed, can a reviewer begin to describe the work of one without comparing and contrasting it with the other? It is reviewing an interpretation of an interpretation. And yet, Tentler-​Krylov surmounts this challenge with impressive skill, sensitivity and grace, so I will attempt to follow her example.

As an immigrant son, reform school survivor, and former labor organizer, when Ralph Fasanella became a self-​taught painter later in life, he took a forthright and direct approach to create a visual chronicle of the lived experience of the people and the world that he knew, as well as those of his parent’s generation. He drew heavily on the kinds of visual shorthand any illustrator might use to communicate their ideas. X‑ray projections, flattened perspectives, subjective color, expressive as well as descriptive mark-​making, and panels that guide the eye through a juxtaposition of scale are all visual syntax a picture book illustrator especially might rely upon regardless of the biographical subject.

Unfazed, Tentler-​Krylov supplies many touches of her own that make her vision of Fasanella’s epic world uniquely hers, even as it complements Fasanella’s. Her colors are ever so slightly more naturalistic and objective, her perspective and compositions as grounded as they are whimsical, her focus more sharply moment to moment. Her Van Gogh-​esque, Post-​Impressionist hatching used with even more deliberate intent. Where Fasanella described the timelessness of a specific world, its moments played out cyclically like the thrum of a thousand sewing machines, Tentler-​Krylov gives us specific moments in time surrounding the life of an individual person, and by extension, a hint of the seeds of the artistic vision those experiences would germinate.

Compare the family supper Tentler-​Krylov shows us on page 11 with the one Fasanella painted in 1972. Where Fasanella’s depictions of people were hauntingly expressionless, his architecture shaky and his tone somewhat inscrutable beyond the circumstantial, Tentler-Krylov’s settings crackle with life, her dynamic gestures and characterizations sharpened by the wit of a master cartoonist and observer. We can practically smell the bread on the table. Where Fasanella’s compositions are grand and sprawling, Tentler-Krylov’s are as inventive and immediate as any in the medium without ever letting you forget it’s the life of an artist with a very specific vision she’s depicting. In the hands of a lesser illustrator, intimate vignettes like Fasanella stretching canvas or imagining the world he intends to paint as he contemplates the easel wouldn’t have nearly the power they do here.

And as generationally timely as Fasanella’s work was in his era, Tentler-Krylov’s work in this volume is equally so. Especially powerful is the image of Fasanella as a sixty-​year-​old artist in the 1970s, striding palette in hand through a crowd of striking textile workers in Lawrence Massachusetts circa 1912. Also poignant are the illustrations of modern viewers, swirling in a kind of observational dance around representations of Fasanella paintings. If Fasanella’s work spoke to the power of art to transport a viewer to a time and place and thus keep the lessons of humanity alive, one generation to the next, Tentler-Krylov’s illustrations here do the same. And if Fasanella’s paintings helped in some way to create empathy in viewers for the workers and their families he depicted en masse, Tentler-Krylov’s illustrations create empathy for the scion of a single working family. She shares his tumultuous upbringing with us, and through it the artistic drive, passion, dedication and conscience that gave those workers he championed a voice.

5 out of 5 crayons


Austin McKinley makes comic books, cartoons, movies, video games, screenplays, novels and novellas through his company, Flying Car. He shot and appeared in the award-​winning feature documentary The New 8‑Bit Heroes alongside director Joe Granato. His comic illustrations have also been published by Image Shadowline, Devil’s Due/​1st Comics, Alias/​Blue Water Press, Avatar, Boom!, Blue King Studios, and FC9. He wrote and illustrated Squareasota, a weekly cartoon in the Sarasota Herald-​Tribune for seven years.

Most recently, he illustrated Tales of Mr. Rhee vol. 5: Rockstar Paranoia, a graphic novel, BLAZE ya Dead Homie, a one-​shot comic book, and wrote and illustrated RIOT Force, a creator-​owned comic series for Source Point Press.