The drawing I made for Hans my Hedgehog has been transferred to the outermost of 15 Russian Dolls.
An idea for the next Russian doll.
Once upon a time there was a peasant who had money and land enough, but as rich as he was, there was still something missing from his happiness: He had no children with his wife. Often when he went to the city with the other peasants, they would mock him and ask him why he had no children. He finally became angry, and when he returned home, he said, “I will have a child, even if it is a hedgehog.”
Then his wife had a baby, and the top half was a hedgehog and the bottom half a boy.
Once upon a time there was a dear little girl who was loved by everyone who looked at her, but most of all by her grandmother, and there was nothing that she would not have given to the child.
Once she gave her a little riding hood of red velvet, which suited her so well that she would never wear anything else; so she was always called ‘Little Red Riding Hood.’
The wolf lifted the latch, the door sprang open, and without saying a word he went straight to the grandmother’s bed, and devoured her. Then he put on her clothes, dressed himself in her cap, laid himself in bed and drew the curtains.
There lay her grandmother with her cap pulled far over her face, and looking very strange.
‘Oh! grandmother,’ she said, ‘what big ears you have!’
‘All the better to hear you with, my child,’ was the reply.
‘But, grandmother, what big eyes you have!’ she said.
‘All the better to see you with, my dear.’
‘But, grandmother, what large hands you have!’
‘All the better to hug you with.’
‘Oh! but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have!’
‘All the better to eat you with!’
A while ago I started to make two maquettes. At some point I showed images of them to my friend Clive who told me he liked them; he knows what he’s talking about – you can see his maquettes here . They were put away, nearly finished, until some months later when I unearthed them, reviewed them, decided I didn’t like them and threw them away. Fast forward about a year and I confess all to Clive who was angry. Then, a week later they turn up – how, I’ve now idea, since I remember the act of putting them in the bin. Anyway, here they are, probably finished and very rough, ready to send to Clive who will look after them far better than I have.
In their final making I suddenly realised just how useful and just how adaptable they could be, so these are the spring-board to a few more I have half-planned.
The baby doll maquette – the body taken from an old fashioned, new-born baby doll with a bandaged cord, the head is from a photo of the most lovely doll in a doll shop in Holland. It’s so clumsily made on thick card that it’s barely able to be articulated.
This maquette is cobbled together from all sorts of ideas; Dora the skeleton, a female, clothing from the Welsh Doll or from a fairy tale –
and confused further by her half flesh/ half bones.