Volume 4, Issue 2 – April, 2001

Jael: Artist in Wonderland

Small wonder that famed science fiction and fantasy artist Jael identifies with Lewis Carroll’s Alice. In addition to portraits whimsical and worldly, her book cover commissions range from several volumes of Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Sword and Sorceress anthologies to the current reissues of Classics Illustrated. Jael’s real-life adventures span everything from sidewalk portraiture to motorcycle rides through the Swiss Alps to a “grandson” sixty years her senior. And according to Jael, her best artistic adventures are yet to be.

Crescent Blues caught up with Jael at Lunacon 2001, one of her favorite conventions, where the conversation leapt from Bible names to bananas and down more than a few interesting rabbit holes.

Crescent Blues: Jael is such an unusual name. Is it your birth name?

Jael: It’s my name. I hadn’t realized it was a Bible name until I was in my twenties. I found out that Jael was a heroine in the Bible. She actually drove a spike through a warmonger’s head. So when I found out all the details, I was totally thrilled. I thought: “This is fate. This is great.” The one name has always served me well. I never felt like going back to a maiden name or pursuing a made-up name or using my old married name. Those four letters “J-A-E-L” stood strong and well for me.

How long have you known you wanted to be an artist?

Probably before I was born. I think we are predestined to be creative. The first forms for me were within music, theater, drama. My mother was one of the first people to have a live TV show. My grandmother put stage plays on that were A-plus. My mother also created — along with two other women — a songbook that was used for 25 years in all of the public schools, and I watched that being created. So there was a creative background that became part of me that you don’t escape. It becomes part of your heritage, your destiny.

Did you study art in college?

No. I do have [teaching] certification, but I had already had 15 years of a professional background. I’ve given lectures to other tech schools and colleges. I was actually a professional for 15 years before I got certified to teach high school.

How did you get your start as a professional artist?

I discovered I had a very exceptional and happy ability to do likenesses of people, and I set up in public. From there I went and did a lot of other kinds of artwork for people, but I was raising my children. It was about only 15 years ago that I found out through a science fiction symposium — not a convention — of several illustrators and editors and authors who said you’ve got to go East and do publishing illustrations.

I always wanted to, and my kids were grown. So I said, “OK, opportunity’s knocking. Get working on it.” And I did.

Were you living in Las Vegas at the time?

I was living in Santa Cruz at the time, but I did go to Las Vegas after my divorce. Lived in Las Vegas for seven years and gravitated to Santa Cruz, which was heaven on earth. It was beautiful. People said, “How come you left the West Coast?” I said, “I guess I’m ambitious.”

Has it been good for you?

It’s been wonderful.

Once you made the big move, how did you break into the business?

Jerry Pournelle and Larry Niven were my “god-people” who sent me out East. From there I got one publishing job and moved out on that one publishing job (the cover of Alan Hruska’s Borrowed Time). I’m not a very aggressive person, but I’m not one that quits. I persevered, and the timing was right.

I did start attending conventions. I hadn’t known about them before. And my work was noticed and very much liked. (I was the new kid on the block.) I was quite excited by the acceptance I found within this group of people. They took me in like family.

Have you been coming to Lunacon a long time?

Lunacon was the closest in proximity. So I came to Lunacon first. The group that kind of adopted me was the New Jersey Science Fiction Club, and part of them run Lunacon. They’ve always been like family, so Lunacon has always been a nice place to come to.

Could you name for our readers some of your favorite covers or commissions that you’ve done?

Shadrach and the Furnace by Robert Silverberg, of course. I’ve done a lot of Robert Silverberg, but he’s prolific, so everybody’s done a lot of Robert Silverberg. That was my second book cover, and I did love that story. I’ve loved the Marion Zimmer Bradley anthologies that I’ve done, the Sword and Sorceress series. I’ve loved the Ian Watson trilogy that I’ve done covers for.

My very favorite author is Arthur C. Clarke. When you grow up with somebody, you have a penchant for loving that type of work. Hard SF is what I love the most, but I am painterly in a fantasy way. That’s what I’m best known for.

But you’ve done hard SF covers.

Yeah..

It’s interesting, because women are not generally associated with hard SF.

Well, my favorite toy growing up was a hand grenade, so figure it from there. But there are a lot of guys in the field, so the competition is a lot greater to do the hard SF. They do such astonishingly wonderful space ships, and I was not encouraged as a youngster to be more tomboy than I was.

What qualities do you look for in a book or story that you’re illustrating?

Hopefully you get to put your own input in there. Sometimes you’re given blurbs where they demand that you do what [they want] you to do. Sometimes it works out good, but your own instincts are better. My strongest work has come out when they’ve let me have more freedom, when they’ve given me the control of being creative.

When it comes down to a sketch that you can’t deviate even a little bit from, it tightens you up. You need to go beyond those boundaries. I’ve gotten a little more forceful lately, not arguing but saying, “I really feel this would be strengthened by letting me do such and such.”

It’s a give and take. But the best art directors, the best editors know that they should give their creative people a lot of room to play.

Do you read a book you’re planning to illustrate completely when you can?

When I can, I do. I always read the books when I’m doing a cover for them, and the short stories, if [I’m illustrating] a short story. But sometimes when they give you a blurb, you have no choice but to do that blurb. You hope that the cover will do it’s job, but it’s always a guess.

Lately you’ve been doing covers for Classics Illustrated. How did that come about? Are you enjoying it?

They’re fun. They’re quick paintings, but they’re a subject matter that I love. Alice is my girl. I was never as crazy about the Oz books as I was about Alice, but there’s [The Legend of] Sleepy Hollow and War of the Worlds. And I’m going to be doing Hunchback of Notre Dame, and I’m going to be doing The Time Machine. So how could you say “no” to that?

It’s a children’s classic publisher, but it’s been great fun.

Does the illustration for the story of the Black Dahlia on your Web site represent a new direction for you?

It’s not a totally new direction, but it’s a little bit more of me doing what I want to do. It’s going to be a lithograph this coming summer.

Do you have aspirations in that vein? How would you describe what you’re trying to do there?

Put pieces together, and of course, there is the story of the Black Dahlia. Some of the ominous effects of the myth were brought to my attention about two years ago. I wanted to put something together that would be my interpretation.

Not for a commission.

No. Just for me. And [The Dream Lives] was another one of those — just for me — and it’s been one of my signature pieces, one of my strongest pieces. I think my own instincts have been very strong when I’ve been given that chance.

Is this where your “E”scapes and Mirabi’lia come from?

When I was in public, doing work for people, I would have an audience the whole time I was working. So these were two of my escapes. If I had slow periods I would begin to do these. I’ve always done this type of work. Since my children were babies, in the very beginning [“E”scapes and Mirabi’lia] were my getaway. They were my other places to go to.

It’s funny, because what goes around comes around. [“E”scapes and Mirabi’lia] have always been part of my life. Now they’re coming back into prominence, which is thrilling to me, because that’s probably the truest me of anything.

I’ve only seen the “E”scapes on-line. Are they oils?

They’re pastels, oils, watercolors — whatever medium, because I’ve worked in all the media.

Do you have a particular preference? Would you rather work in oils or watercolors, for example?

Oils are my favorite, because you can play with them more. But actually, I’ve found that I enjoy acrylics — which was quite an adventure, figuring out how I could make them work for me. That’s the true test of a medium — figuring out how to make it work for you rather than the other way around.

Getting back to the Mirabi’lia, you mentioned that you try to get your viewers to contribute to the viewing the experience by putting your titles in Latin.

I like to leave it a bit ambiguous. A viewer of a Georgia O’Keefe piece that was apparently a flower once told her: “Oh you did this flower because…” And Georgia O’Keefe looked back at her in her haughty, wonderful way and said, “No, I did not do that flower for that reason. I did it for myself. Whatever you see into it is your interpretation.”

I don’t want to pin the viewer [of the Mirabi’lia paintings] down to anything other than what they want to see in what I do.

Do you find that some pictures are more given to viewer interpretation than others?

Certainly the covers are. I had such a wonderful quote that was given to me by my boyfriend in Santa Cruz. He was watching me do my “E”scapes one day, and people kept saying, “What is it? What is it?” They were disturbed. They didn’t quite understand it. And he said, “It’s too bad that people always need a banana in the middle of the picture.”

I loved that quote. Now he was only 21 at the time. I was a lot older. But for such wisdom to come out of such a young person — very wise, very wise. I’ve tried not to put a banana into the middle of any of my “E”scapes or Mirabi’lia. I’ve tried to leave it open for interpretation so that the magic comes through.

You’ve also been doing cards and games…

Basically, these things have found me. I did a bunch about three years ago. Then some of the companies were having a hard time staying afloat, because it was a very competitive business. I never really did seek other game card companies, because I didn’t want to do tiny little pieces of art, because they don’t pay a lot. I’d rather do wonderful pieces of art, but I did a lot, and there’s a lot more to go up on my site. I just put a few up that were close and quick.

But they were fun and [the game companies] left it totally to my interpretation. One of my favorites was The Time and Space Mechanic. I’ve got to put him up on my site. I just doodled my way into that painting. So those were great.

When you set out to do a painting, do you follow a standard procedure, or does it depend on the assignment or the day of the week? Say that you’ve been assigned to do a cover, and you’ve read the book and the blurbs, do you rough it out with a sketch? Do you sketch it directly on your matte board or canvas?

I always do a preliminary sketch, and I trim it to size. Now due to the convenience of computers, I “jpg” it to the proper size, and I change whatever needs to be changed around. Sometimes I do two or three, and do a mix and match. From there, for my own sake, I’ll do a color version, because I want to make sure I don’t screw up with the painting.

Are you comfortable working with computers?

Yeah. I don’t originate art in the computer. I don’t go in there to begin do my art. I do it, then I enhance it, so it’s never like a “from scratch” thing. Oh, computers are wonderful tools! Absolutely phenomenal. I don’t know how we lived without ’em.

Did you put together your own site?

I have a Webmaster, Jeff Watson, who’s my Web guru. He’s a lovely man. Jeff told me years ago: “If you ever want to do a Web site, I will do it for you.” We have a plan worked out. He’s been wonderful. He keeps it clean and tidy. I probably should learn how.

If you’ve got a good person doing it, you probably should let him do it.

I do, and Jeff’s wonderful. He does a lot of other top illustrators as well, because he likes to.

That’s what generally happens in this business. People do it, because they like to, and they give you a gift.

They do. And of course, I make sure I send him little goodies. He does like my work. Jeff’s a very high-profile software person who heads over 30 people at work. So he doesn’t need to do the Web stuff. He just likes to, and it’s like a vacation to him when he can update [the site].

Is The World one of your newest commissions?

No… oh, you’re talking about The Dream Lives, which will be the cover for the new edition of The World by John Grant. I was very thrilled when he asked to use that piece of work. I was very honored.

What is the history behind that painting? I thought this was something new for the book.

Eliza and Mark Shallcross own that piece. I’ve borrowed it back on several occasions to hang when I’ve been guest of honor. It was done when the space shuttle Challenger exploded. I was devastated for weeks, and that was my statement. If you look at the ring of planets, there are seven little planets signifying the people that I was devastated to lose.

That seems to be a very special piece in your repertoire. Are there other pieces that have similar resonance to you over time?

In different ways. Every one of them is like a child with a different personality. You can’t say that two of them are exactly alike. They’re all different. They’re all meaningful in different ways. Some more than others, but they’re all your children.

Well, you’ve got a big child that you’re doing now — five by seven…

Yeah, five by seven feet. This is fun, because I’ve been given complete freedom. The only thing they’ve asked me to do — other than have it exotic, almost celestial and prophetic — is to include a little bit of rain forest, which is no problem. I can play with this one, and it’s going to be a huge canvas, and I’m going to have to clean my studio out. But it’s going to be wonderful. It will be like my nirvana. I can’t wait.

No specifics at all?

Nope.

When you put your brushes away for the night, what do you do?

I don’t put them away. [Laughs.]

Greg, my cutie-pie, always comes in at 11:30 at night and says, “Are you through?” And I say, “I’m never through.” But I do get tired. I used to be able to work happily until 2 a.m., but I find now that I do kind of fade at 12:30 a.m.

I always work better at night. That’s one of the blessings and the curses of having your studio at home — it’s always with you. I feel guilty when I do housework, because I feel like I should be painting or at the computer doing my work. That’s a hard thing, but I don’t want to not be home.

Does that mean painting is your recreation as well as your profession?

Oh yeah. One day when Greg found me suffering from the sufferings that illustrators go through, he said, “Why don’t you just give it up, stay home and just do housework?” I said, “Oh, oh, no! Say that again and you’re dead. That’s like ripping my heart out. You can’t separate one from the other.”

I am a creative person. When I’m dead, I’m done. “Retirement” is not even a vocabulary word that I understand. I’ve always been creative, and I’ll drop dead being creative. I always thought if I was by myself, I’d be in a nursing home teaching people how to paint in my one room.

I’m never quitting, and I want to get better. So I still have my 30 best years ahead of me.

That’s a great thing to look forward to.

Well, it’s true. It’s very true. I believe that artists have it over actors and actresses, whatever, because we can continue. We don’t go out of style. We don’t grow too old to fit the role. We can as long as we can see. And if I couldn’t see I would sculpt. If I couldn’t sculpt, I would paint with my toes. I would make a work somehow. I always have something creative — with the music or with the art.

Have you continued with the music over the years?

My mother was a genius with the music, absolutely brilliant. Her singing voice: beautiful. I have a legacy to fulfil with her. She wrote music for years and years. She published a lot, but there was a lot that was only in manuscript. None of the children of my sisters or my brother have the harmony. I’m the only one who knows, because I’m the first one, so I do have a legacy to fulfil with her — to write down the music and tape it for everyone. I’ve got a lot of things to do. [Smiles.]

You don’t have time to slow down.

I know.

So this is what you’re doing when you’re not painting — writing down your mother’s music.

I haven’t started. I do have a piano, but I gave it to my daughter, and she’s had it for the last 15 years. But Greg saw another piano that’s in beautiful shape, an old upright with a beautiful tone. I’ve also got books to write, people to write about.

Non-fiction?

Biographical. When I was seven, I was with my mother in San Francisco waiting for my father to come home from the Philippines, from World War II. We met a gentleman who had a vast library and who kind of adopted us, and I became his little grandmother, at the age of seven. He became my grandson at the age of 67. He sent me presents and came to visit, and he became part of our family.

He gave me magic. He gave me my first Alice in Wonderland. He gave me sets of pastels. He gave me sets of the opera. He gave me sets of postage stamps that had my image on them. I didn’t appreciate him then. He sent me letters — the serious and sad side of life, what I should watch out for. Very like Lewis Carroll. Very wonderful. I’ve got to let people know about him.

Then there were the Native American children that we had. We had a lot of foster children.

Your parents cared for foster children?

No, I had them on the farm when I was raising my kids. Native American children came to live with us, because the schools on the reservation were bad. It was a church program. They became part of our families. We didn’t get any money unless some major medical problem happened, and we always stayed very close to their families.

That is a wonderful thing that I need to write about, because I had one son die in a wrestling accident — Sandy Napoleon — and I’ve got to write his story.

There are a lot of things that have happened in my life that I feel the need to tell people about.

We’ve been doing this kind of on the fly. Is there anything we haven’t covered that you’d like to talk about — your snakes, for example?

My snakes are wonderful — a bull snake and a rat snake. I got them as babies — they are 14 years old now — from my wonderful friend, who was the genius behind the Hammond Map Company, now retired.

Ernst is an Austrian gentleman who literally built his maps from aluminum foil, on a base, then airbrushed them flawlessly. They were breathtakingly beautiful, with minute details. Then he photographed them to look 3D for the finished product. He’s close to 80 years old now, and has, along with his cartography, been a licensed herpetologist (snakes, lizards — all sorts of cool scaled critters). I met him, when I asked if I could go photograph his chameleon for the Sword and Sorceress IV cover art, and he gave me my babies, only six weeks old at the time. Ernst and I have been good friends ever since.

Other than that, just how enthusiastic I can still be, and it’s exciting to know that a few people like my artwork and what I’m doing. It’s very rewarding. I think it’s kept us young. I think it’s kept us vital, healthy. Creative people have a blessing that I’m very grateful for. I can’t imagine doing any other thing than what I’m doing.

Except maybe riding a Harley®.

Well, yes. [Laughs.] Since you bring that up, I met my cutie-pie 11 years ago. He walked into my life… He actually rode into my life on his red motorcycle, and we haven’t been apart since. It’s been an adventure, because I would not have settled for somebody boring. I would’ve been a bad person for them.

He’s just a challenge. He’s cute, he’s challenging, and he’s got a sense of humor, and he rides a Harley. We’ve taken a trip to Europe and ridden through the Swiss Alps and through the Bavarian Alps, which are astonishingly wonderful. He’s taken about five thousand-mile trips. We’ve been to everything.

Do you get any visual references that way?

Sure. That’s one thing that’s neat, because I can’t work when I’m on the back of the motorcycle, so I paint in my head. And I know I don’t have any other duties that I can perform, so it’s my Zen time. So I’ve got about a hundred paintings in my head. I just need the time to get them out.

Do the things in your head make it to canvas?

Sure, sure. They even come out with the book covers. It’s subliminal.

So you can translate your mental images. Other artists have told me that what they see on the finished canvas is never as good as the picture in their heads.

Oh! I don’t believe that! I don’t believe that. You just have to let your imagination work for you. It comes out, maybe, in different ways, but the true ways will come out.

Do you use a lot of live models?

I do for the book covers. I pick up anybody I can. So whoever looks good, I ask them if I can paint them.

And they always say “yes?”

I’ve never had anybody refuse me. For The Cat Who Went to Heaven, I needed a Japanese starving artist, and I found this wonderful looking man in a post office. I said, “You would be a wonderful starving artist.” He turned out to be a wonderful model.

[Editor’s note: A few days after her Lunacon interview, Crescent Blues learned that Jael planned to turn in 27 sketches for a new book during an imminent trip to New York. We asked her to expand on this tantalizing tidbit.]

The 27 sketches are for a continuing kind of fun job I’ve been doing for the last several years as they came up — How to Draw books for Scholastic (through Kids Books). I’ve done Superheroes and Villains, Aliens and UFOs, dragons, angels, super hot cars, etc. etc. etc. This time around, the buyers for Scholastic were frantic for a military-oriented book — tanks, fighter planes, vehicles, ships, etc. — sans blatant weapons. (These books are for young kids, ages 5-11.)

When I was in New York, I gave the publishers roughs. I already completed the cover comp, which was what sold the “wished for” concept to the buyers. But I had to flesh the interior out, with around 27 more images of all sorts of cool stuff, which I had to research. As you know, the military is pretty sneaky about not giving away too many details, so we’ll have to be a bit generic this time.

The publishers will pick 17 roughs to go to final. Then I’ll ink five progressive steps for each of the 17 images, for the kids to follow, up to the fifth, finished inking. That’s a lot, isn’t it?

It’s a lot of fun and pretty easy — just a lot of mundane work and a lot of inking. [Smiles.] But the books I’ve done have been fantastically successful. And reprinted AND reprinted. Carol Russo (a top graphic/art designer for Time, Warner, Baen, Tor, etc.) finalizes colors for the cover comp with me.

It’s just a fun job, nothing spectacular, but the kids love me when they find out I’m the one who’s done a lot of these books. Mine seem to be their favorites:)

Click here to learn more about Jael and her art.

Jean Marie Ward

In addition to editing Crescent Blues, Jean Marie Ward writes for a number of Web-based and print magazines, including Science Fiction Weekly. She is the author of Illumina: the Art of Jean Pierre Targete (Paper Tiger) and several short stories, including “Most Dead Bodies in a Confined Space” in Strange Pleasures 2 (Prime Books). Her first novel, With Nine You Get Vanyr, written with Teri Smith, is scheduled to be released by Samhain Publishing in late 2006..