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Cutting Remarks
My style of cut-paper illustration is actually a very simple process taken to elaborate extremes, becoming a perfect outlet for
obsessive-compulsive behavior. This labor-intensive method began with the design and construction of shadow puppets and projected scenery for Clarion Shadow Theatre, the touring troupe my wife Donna and I began
in 1980. After years of wielding an X-Acto knife to cut the flat, jointed figures from poster paper and scenic transparencies from colored plastic films, my drawing and cutting skills improved, as well as my
ability to visually compose dramatic scenes for the rectangular shadow screen. When Donna and I became parents and could no longer tour regularly, I adapted these talents to illustration.
At first, my work looked a lot like the shadow puppetry: black silhouettes against a white background. Then, as my freelance assignments with
newspapers and magazines began to demand more vivid and realistic detail, I started using color, more representative figures and depth, gradually evolving the style I use for picture books.
Before blade touches paper, however, all scenes are sketched in black & white on layout paper for editorial approval. After passing
inspection, the sketches are copied on architect's vellum, a high-quality tracing paper. These tracings are set aside while I color the approved black & white sketches with markers to determine the palette
of the book. Then I order paper, usually thirty or forty sheets of Color-Aid (a silkscreened paper that comes in more than three hundred brilliant shades), about ten sheets of Strathmore watercolor paper for
skin tones, and a small variety of specialty papers chosen for texture or pattern (like the rough coral paper used for the Golem half-title page).
After placing a 24"x36" self-sealing cutting mat on the worktable to absorb the X-Acto blade, I get to work. The colored papers are
turned upside-down, so I can transfer the reversed black & white tracings to the backs of them with carbon paper. This protects the sensitive ink on Color-Aid paper from scuffs and fingerprints, hides
drawing lines, and assures all cut pieces are facing the right way when assembly begins.
I use #11 X-Acto blades and change them when they lose their absolutely sharp points and keen edges, which means every eight or ten minutes.
Detailed books like The Wave of the Sea-Wolf and The Secret Knowledge of Grown-Ups usually take seven hundred to eight hundred blades, while the less elaborate Ducky used only three hundred.
The illustrations are attached to a rectangle of fomecore, a styrofoam sheet sandwiched between white paper. The fomecore is marked with
measurements indicating the final size of the double-page illustration and its center. The colored paper background is fastened down with spray glue, then each finished layer is attached with either double-stick
photo mounts (when one piece of paper needs to stay absolutely flat against another, like hair on a character's head) or thicker Scotch-3M foamtape (for depth and shadow between layers, like a series of mountain
ranges).
Each double-page illustration is the same size as printed in the book. It takes four to five days to cut and assemble one of them, and eight to
ten weeks to produce the final art for an entire book. The entire process of research, writing and art for an historical epic like Sundiata: Lion King of Mali is usually seven to eight months. This means I
usually produce only one book a year, so it had better be a good one!
When the pieces are completed, I bring them to a photographer. Together, we decide how best to light each piece for best dramatic effect. The
resulting 4"x5" transparencies are sent to the publisher, who usually releases the complete book nine to twelve months later.
Sometimes, people ask me why I bother with such a complicated and time-consuming art technique when I could simply draw or paint. One answer is
that other artists draw much better than I do, and almost anybody (including your dog) paints better than I do. The other answer is that cut-paper gives me a recognizable style that no one else has duplicated,
and that's important in the increasingly crowded and sophisticated world of children's picture books. As Anne Diebel, the art director for Clarion Books, once told me, "When it come to cutting paper, you da
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About the Author:
David Wisnieski (wiz-NESS-key) was born in Middlesex, England. After training at Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Clown College,
he spent three years as a clown designing his own props, costumes, and gags. He was subsequently hired by his future wife, Donna, as a performer with a traveling puppet theatre. Married six months later, the
Wisniewskis started their own troupe, Clarion Shadow Theatre, specializing in shadow puppetry. In the course of creating the plays, puppets and projected scenery, Mr. Wisnieski evolved the storytelling
techniques and art skills that eventually led to his picture books with their unique cut paper illustrations. He lives with his wife and two children in Maryland.
Recent Books
The Secret Knowledge of Grown Ups (Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Books 1998)
Ducky (Clarion Books 1997)
Golem (Clarion Books 1997)
The Wave of Sea-Wolf (Clarion Books 1997)
Worlds of Shadow: Teaching with Shadow Puppetry (Teacher Ideas Press/Libraries Unltd. 1997)
To contact this author or illustrator, please use the information for his or her publisher provided on our list of CBC member publishers.
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