Taking her cues from the "anything goes" rules of children's literature, illustrator Audrey Lopata carefully pens colorful worlds inhabited with scarf-wearing-lizards, zombie pirates, and mermaids. Her black and white comic panels express slightly more grown-up emotions but still convey the sense of whimsy that is so evident through out Lopata's work. Stop by the Pump Project Art Complex this weekend during East Austin Studio Tour to see Lopata's studio space and that of many other talented artists. Audrey sat down with us to talk about what inspires her and how she goes about creating alternative worlds where elves and fairies roam.

What are some of your favorite children’s books?

Oh, there are so so many. I never feel entirely prepared to answer a question about favorites because I’m always nervous that I’ll forget an important one. Nonetheless, here are a few I love: The Eddie Dickens Trilogy by Philip Ardagh, Flipped by Wendelin Van Draanen, Clementine by Sarah Pennypacker, anything illustrated by Trina Shart Hyman, Permanent Rose by Hilary McKay, and Solomon Snow and the Silver Spoon by Kaye Umanski.

Is there any one source you can always rely on for inspiration (literary or otherwise)?

Nature! If I can go for a walk with open eyes and an open mind, it doesn’t even really matter where I go. As long as I can explore and there are a few trees and some birds in the sky, there is huge scope for imagination.

How does your style influence your worldview? Does your art expand your sense of possibility?

At first I thought this question was backwards, thinking: surely it is one’s worldview that influences their style. But really, I think it’s much more jumbled up than simply one solely affecting the other, so here it goes... I think it’s all about an expanded sense of possibility. When I draw scenes and stories that wonder whether autumn is like a bad hair day for the trees, or consider potatoes turning into dinosaur-riding zombies, or tell the tale of a frost girl who against all odds loves lizards, they all expand on the question: what if? And when my possibility horizon is so expanded, it helps me stay out of the trap of considering anything to be ordinary. In the book “Clementine” she complains that everyone is always telling her to pay attention, when in truth she is the only one who’s paying attention, and that’s how she notices what others don’t. Whimsical drawing is like this, not being afraid to keep your eyes open and consider that there’s more to all of this than anyone can imagine.

You talk about the balance between your cathartic pieces and your more whimsical work. Does one somehow fuel the other?

It’s all related. It’s like this: I’ll be writing in my journal saying everything in words and then realize that It would make so much more sense if I drew what I was feeling. For example, how do you say in words what it feels like when you’ve been skirting the truth for too long? When I see it in my mind and feel it in my heart, pictures come of veils, covering yourself to hide what you don’t want others to see, but then you can’t see either and you get tangled. This is so clearly an image to me, a series of pictures, that I’m sure I’m not able to explain it well.

When I am able to express these thoughts and emotions through pictures it’s not only therapeutic (because I can explain myself better) but it also increases my artistic vocabulary. So those emotions and concept can find their way into my “just for the sake of fun” work as well. It also works the other way, sometimes my characters from my whimsical fun work seem to find their way into the cathartic pieces. For example, I have this rather devious character “Devin” who is from a completely ridiculous story. Somehow, I tend to imagine him as the villain even in pieces that are supposedly more serious. It’s probably my own subconscious telling me not to take myself so seriously.

For so many of us, the worlds that our favorite children’s books comprise seem just as real as our own. How does place figure into your work?

Since I’ve been rushing a bit to get ready for the show, my new stuff doesn’t show it as much, but I do love creating imaginary worlds. When I’m drawing a scene I’m trying to get inside the character's heads so that I can draw from a place of sincerity, of understanding what’s going on. So a big question that plays into that is: so where is this scene taking place? When I’m really being diligent I ask myself about a thousand questions like: where is this taking place? Is this earth? Is this close to where they live? Do they like where they are right now? Does the environment like them right now? What time of day is it? Shouldn’t the telephone be melting a bit since it just got touched by zombie slime? As I think through the answers the place becomes clearer. Sometimes I get carried away with world building and go down a trail that I wasn’t expecting. For example, when I was drawing scenes from a story about a cupid fairy I spent a crazy amount of time imaging and drawing little houses nestled into dead trees, murals that decorate their houses, merfish that invade their houses when the river rises, an interesting root that someone might use as a bench to sit on. I think JK Rowling once said that an author ought to know absolutely everything about the world they create in their books, even if it’s never mentioned in the story. I think the same is true for illustrations. Even if you can’t see it in the picture the fact that in this world, clouds tend to be shaped like famous generals is going to affect the psyche of the image somehow, and I want to be able to draw that.

Did you dream about inhabiting alternative worlds as a child?

I played so many imagination games with my brother and sister, surely there were a few that involved other worlds. I mean, don’t all kids build forts out of pillows in their living room and pretend that it’s the frozen tundra of Siberia, or make home movies about zombies who haunt a golf course? I think I was more of a world traveler than an inter-dimensional voyager. I remember pretending to be a parrot in the rainforest, a merchant at a Persian market, Pocahontas, etc.

What comes alive when you do this kind of work?

My characters. Or at least that’s what I hope for. I want to put so much life on the page that you can’t help but wonder what’s going on and what’s going to happen next. Because if you don’t believe it, then you won’t think it’s important and won’t bother to take the journey. So what comes alive? The art, and then hopefully the viewer. Hopefully your realm of possibility becomes a bit wider and the world shimmers a bit more around the edges with the thought of what all is out there if you can just pay attention!

Filed in Arts & Entertainment and tagged art, audreylopata, east2009, eastaustinstudiotour, illustration, painting, pumpproject

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