"I suppose all great happiness is a little sad...": all things Kay Nielsen...

I have been told that I must have, through working at Pollock's toyshop for the last three year, had some acquaintance with the Danish illustrator Kay Nielsen. The shop stocks books published by a company called Dover Books, an American company who are most famous for their series of paper doll books, works from the unique Dover Pictorial Archive and various historical graphics. Unloading a recent order, and knowing that the manager had selected a few new titles, I paid special attention for anything that may appeal. I have become aware of certain illustrators during my time at the toyshop, particularly those associated with the "Golden Age of Illustration" during the beginning of the 20th Century such as Daniel Vierge, Edmund Dulac and Arthur Rackham, but there was always something about their work that did not manage to imbue in me, beyond a rational appreciation (as much as such a term can be applied to ones own understanding of aesthetics), an emotive response that manifests itself in such cliché ways as that shiver down the spine, tingle in the hands and, ultimately, a scarring on the heart.

Then, unpacking the penultimate box of the delivery, I came across a book of fairy tale illustrations that, even through a tentative, initial flick through, took me that one step further - the illustrations of Kay Nielsen have truly taken me through the looking glass, giving me beauty in a form I had before only come to appreciate and adore in the written word; words and phrases, quotes and sentiments, novels and essays, poetry that all have assured me of the intrinsic beauty of life and the narrative one enjoys (or endures) with our environment. His work does not simply 'speak to me', it has now become part of me.