Creative Colloquies, Thanksgiving Edition: Stephanie Williams

“mmmmm…beer.” Photograph by Stephanie Williams.

I pulled up the above picture on Instagram the other day and was struck by how some artists are so good at blending art and life into some kind of seamless, perpetual performance just by being themselves.

Five or so years ago, I found myself heading from New Mexico towards Washington, D.C., with the idea that I would roll up, invest in the local art scene, and live happily ever after. While that didn’t quite happen, I did have the pleasure to meet Stephanie Williams as a co-member of the two-year DCAC Sparkplug artist collective program, and have followed and admired her work ever since. Stephanie is an amazingly talented multimedia artist who also excels at the art of living and it was my pleasure to invite her to be a part of Mirror Mirrored, for which she has reimagined “Hans My Hedgehog.” I (virtually) sat down with her to catch up this week.

“Hans My Hedgehog” as illustrated by Karl Fahringer

Hi Stephanie. Thanks for agreeing to chat. I’d just like to talk a little bit about your piece for Mirror Mirrored, then maybe segue into a few other topics. The Grimms’ tale “Hans my Hedgehog” is a pretty crazy story: the main character is cursed on birth, hated by his father, rides a rooster, herds pigs, and disfigures one princess before marrying another, inheriting a kingdom, and making amends with his dad. What attracted you to this tale?

What’s not tempting about this story? It exists in extremes. I felt that, perhaps, it was only the designation of “fairy tale” that prevented Hans from easily translating to a contemporary context. Hans, I’ve met this person before. He is a character who feels that his power has been taken. He is presumed to be deserving. He feels justified in committing violent acts in order to take his power back, no matter the consequences.

The story’s voice even backs this justification, asking that readers accept certain systemic hierarchies as truth no matter how extreme: of course nothing should stand in his way to regain power. Of course, Hans is owed a father’s daughter for providing the father directions home? Of course, Hans doesn’t rape said daughter, but is owed intimacy when she is not attracted to him? Of course!

When I made the work for this story, I noticed there were countless current examples in news stories and anecdotes from friends in which violent acts were also justified in order to maintain ridiculous hierarchies of power. This work doesn’t claim to have answers. Making this piece felt cathartic.

Hans by Stephanie Williams, Video Still

Hans by Stephanie Williams, Video Still

I think that these old stories might, at their best, pivot between giving us hope for another life and providing us catharsis for the one we have. Were there any other Grimms’ stories you were considering reimagining for Mirror Mirrored?

I am interested in the storytelling potential of material, so I was looking for something that offered that opportunity. There was a story about a mouse, a bird, and a sausage that lived happily in harmony as long as everyone stayed committed to their assigned job. Their whole world falls into despair when one of the characters prefers and takes the job of another character. I like using remnants, fragments, and pieces leftover that perhaps in another form, could suggest usefulness at one time, but in their disassembled state aren’t considered to be intuitively functioning.

Mouse Bird Sausage by Walter Crane

“The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage” illustrated by Walter Crane

Gym Joy by Stephanie Williams

Gym Joy by Stephanie Williams

I enjoy your disassembled, questionably functioning sculptures, but especially enjoy what happens when you make them actually function by animating them. How did you get into stop motion animation?

I had been making alter egos that reflected upon my conversation with an identity. Given my making ability, these pieces, stylistically, looked toylike instead of living. I was looking for a way to give them a larger sense of being, a way for them to really own their awkwardness and un-placeability. Animating seemed like a natural step in that direction.

Hans by Stephanie Williams, Video Still

Hans by Stephanie Williams, Video Still

I learned how to animate on film in grad school. I was the only grad student in my intro to stop motion class and my stuff was truly horrible. I was very slow as a builder and found myself using the most roundabout ways to get a desired effect. A fellow grad in my program was also interested in “learning” how to animate digitally, had a camcorder, a DSLR, some tools, and lighting, so we decided that we could toddle through it together. We worked so inefficiently since we didn’t know what we were doing, but after four or so months we came up with something fun. After we finished that project, I moved to D.C. without access to equipment, so I returned to making stationary work on a large scale. There’s something quite satisfying in the agency of being able to switch between media.

From those allegedly toddling early days, the technical skills I see in your animation work right now are amazing—from the detail to sound to the constant motion of all the figures. How do you keep track of all the moving parts as a one person operation?

Thank you, but I am not a great animator. I’m still learning. Since I work by myself, this slow process is even slower. Animation and video processes have changed so much and I’m constantly catching up. I work with a traditional x-sheet (notes linked to each frame that I take, which tracks movement when I’m compiling photos). I also have visual aides with each camera angle: a crude drawing that diagrams all the moving pieces per shot, what direction they move, how much they move, how much they stand still, etc. It’s not necessarily a lot to think about, but it is very much a lot to keep track of. Sometimes, even listening to music is too distracting because I have to be so mentally present when I’m working; there is no autopilot. It’s tiring when shooting, but it’s worth it when I’ve been shooting for hours and am able to stop and finally preview these shots in motion. Sound, on the other hand, is more intuitive. I try to collect sounds that I find interesting or at least make a note of something that I should record. I just spend a lot of time with headphones on, re-editing until it sounds and feels right.

Pinoy Ploy by Stephanie Williams, Video Still

Pinoy Ploy by Stephanie Williams, Video Still

Aside from the technical details, I love the imagery in your new piece, Pinoy Ploy—which I believe recently screened at the Studio Museum in Harlem. Could you talk a little about the inspiration for the visuals in your work?

Thanks again! Within many of my projects, I find myself looking to things that disgust. The act of disgust suggests a process of ranking, of organizing into hierarchies what is tasteful and what is not. It doesn’t really leave a lot of space for subjectivity. The work for this piece looked to the hierarchies linked to American-ness, looking to map our value systems through food, as well as the role that stereotypes play when appropriating the foods of marginalized communities.

Until recently, it was difficult to find a Filipino restaurant. I found Filipino food at friends’ houses or my own since this food hadn’t translated well into mainstream American tastes. There are so many places now that feature Filipino food and I find myself wondering if we have finally found a more accepting audience or if I need to be more skeptical. I looked to other examples of once deemed disgusting foods making their way into mainstream taste and thought most obviously of Uncle Ben’s and Aunt Jemima.

The protagonist in my animation is a Balut (a fermented fertilized, half-formed duck egg). I chose this because Balut is a literal hybrid and a food that when featured on American television is as a food dare. I also looked to many portraits of Spanish colonizers (the Philippines was under Spanish rule for hundreds of years and an American territory before claiming independence in 1946). I wanted a colonizers’ presence, but wanted to play with who is traditionally in control of an American narrative.

Pinoy Ploy by Stephanie Williams, Video Still

Pinoy Ploy by Stephanie Williams, Video Stills

Sidetracking to food for a minute, because it’s been far too long since I’ve been back to the District, and because (insert something about Michelin stars), what’s your favorite restaurant or bar there right now?

I love the Public Option—my neighborhood pub. It’s like having a drink in your friend’s living room. Some wonderfully generous folks, Bill and Kathy, run it. It’s so rare to run into people that make caring so commonplace. My favorite restaurant is my own kitchen. My partner, Cheech is an amazing cook and is always up for trying new things, so I follow her lead.

Awesome. Ok, back to narratives. They are such powerful forces in our lives, both the ones we encounter and the ones we make ourselves. Did you have a favorite story as a kid or now?

I loved and still do love Elizabeth Taylor movies, Taming of the Shrew, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, and yes, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof with Paul Newman, especially the scene where Big Daddy, played by Burl Ives, rants to Sister Woman (Madeline Sherwood) about the smell of mendacity: “Can you smell the mendacity, Sister Woman?” She answers, “Well Big Daddy, I don’t even know what that is!”—one of my favorite call and responses when I was six. Brick (Newman) participates in this rant, driven to tears thinking of his own homosexuality and stating that he too can “smell the mendacity” and is “tired of all lies and liars!” I, of course, had no idea as to what any of this meant then, but I loved the plot’s crescendos. Time stood still in this movie, leaving little room for you to process one monologue before another began.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Still from Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, directed by Richard Brooks

A few years back, I watched as you helped students construct their own narratives as you taught intro to stop-motion animation at James Madison University. What do you think is the relationship between being a full-time professor and a practicing contemporary artist?

I feel incredibly lucky, sometimes undeserving, to have access to these luxuries: a singular job, a job that I’m invested in, and a job that’s invested in me. I’ve been a teacher for about a decade at James Madison University and what I’ve noticed in that time is that teaching allows me to pay attention to things that I wouldn’t normally pay attention to or have the time to pay attention to. I am lucky to have access to a new generation of artists reacting to their worlds for the first time. They’re so excited all the time. Also, in some cases, teaching forces me to observe my own language within culture. I’ve become more interested in research that is, from its base, more curious rather than pieces that claim to be didactic.

And, finally, as I know you have a complicated relationship with turkeys, what did you wear for Halloween this year?

I was Jane Lane from Daria.

Jane Lane from Daria, created by Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis Lynn for MTV

Jane Lane from Daria, created by Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis Lynn for MTV

Thank you Stephanie! Have a Happy Thanksgiving.

Thanks! I’ve loved working on this project with both you and Michelle and I continue to learn so much from our conversations together. We fall down rabbit holes often and can’t wait until we slip into the next one.

You can see the videos Hans and Pinoy Ploy from Stephanie Williams below, her work in Mirror Mirrored: A Contemporary Artists’ Edition of 25 Grimms’ Tales, and more information at her website at

If you enjoyed this article, please consider donating to Mirror Mirrored so we can bring you more like it.

By |2018-01-16T15:39:08+00:00November 23rd, 2017|Creative|

Jennie Harbour, Where Have You Gone?

My Book of Favourite Fairy Tales.
Edric Vredenburg, ed. / Jennie Harbour, ill.
London: Raphael Tuck, 1921

One of the most beautiful and contemporary wonder tale books I’ve seen, My Favourite Book of Fairy Tales, was published near the end of the Golden Age of illustration in 1921. It is illustrated by an exceptionally talented artist, acclaimed in her own lifetime, who history has transformed into an elusive mystery: Jennie Harbour.

The fairy tale book was printed by Raphael Tuck, Publishers to Their Majesties the King and Queen of Great Britain, and Harbour’s illustrations (especially the black and white images) still feel exciting and fresh when I open the book today. Here are a few examples (you can see them all at Project Gutenberg, although the digitized images there don’t really do the book justice).

Red Riding Hood by Jennie Harbour

Red Riding Hood

Red Riding Hood

Goose Girl by Jennie Harbour

The Goose Girl

The White Cat


Snow White and Rose Red by Jennie Harbour

Snow White and Rose Red

Tufty Riquet by Jennie Harbour

Tufty Riquet

Upon first seeing these pictures, I was curious about this fantastic artist and tried to track down more information about her. It was easy to find accolades. For example:

“[T]he artistic and quite incomparable work of Jennie Harbour, [is from] an artist in a class by herself.” The Stationary World, June 1920, p335.

“[H]er Majesty the Queen, accompanied by Princess Mary, honoured the exhibits of Messrs. Raphael Tuck & Sons by her inspection. . . . The delightful colour facsimiles of early Victorian subjects, after Miss Jennie Harbour, which have become so popular, came in for special Royal commendation.” The Stationary World, March-April 1919, p142.

“Miss Jennie Harbour’s pictures [in My Book of Favourite Fairy Tales] are a delight to the eye, with their firm, graceful outlines and their original colour schemes. ‘The Goose Girl’ and ‘The Magic Mirror’ are our favourites. . . . The children will love this book.” The Bookman, Christmas 1921, p44.

“‘Favourite Fairy Tales,’ with illustrations by Jennie Harbour, should enjoy considerable popularity. It is so eminently attractive.” The Play Pictorial No. 226, Vol. XXXVIII (1921) p134.

“[The] famous collection of Jennie Harbour pictures [is] known all the world over.” The Stationary World, February 1920, page 89.

But it was nearly impossible to find anything more about her.1 (Adele C. Geraghty has even launched a website, with the hope of writing her biography, asking for “[a]ny information concerning this enigmatic artist [which] would be very much appreciated, especially from any persons who may have had a personal tie with her in some way.”) Unfortunately, as many have noted, and The Oxford Encyclopedia of Women in World History states: “From antiquity forward, most tales of great artists and litanies of notable women included a small sampling of women artists . . . . often described as unusually talented women who overcame the limitations of their sex to excel in a masculine endeavor.” Indeed, Harbour’s arguably most popular picture, “Hansel and Gretel” from 1921, is quite possibly known largely because it was “borrowed” by J. R. R. Tolkien as inspiration for his drawing of trolls in The Hobbit in 1937. You can see the two pictures here side by side.

Jennie Harbour & J. R.R. Tolkien

Jennie Harbour (1921) / J. R. R. Tolkien (1937)

The children’s book historian Brian Alderson notes in The Hobbit, 50th Anniversary Edition that the basic composition of “The Trolls” was borrowed from Harbour. John Garth claims that Tolkien, however, “denied that his ‘imagination had fed on pictures, as it clearly had been by certain kinds of literature and languages,’ declaring himself ‘not well acquainted with pictorial Art.'”2 In a September 19, 1971 letter to Carole Batten-Phelps, Tolkien goes further:

“[A visitor] had been much struck by the curious way in which many old pictures seemed to him to have been designed as to illustrate The Lord of the Rings long before its time. He brought one or two reproductions. I think he wanted at first simply to discover whether my imagination had fed on pictures, as it clearly had been [fed] by certain kinds of literature and languages. When it became obvious that, unless I was a liar, I had never seen the pictures before and was not well acquainted with pictorial Art, he fell silent.”3

I leave you to your own judgment.

Regardless, I hope you enjoy Jennie Harbour’s masterful work, which reminds me, in its best moments, of a more compositionally ambitious, less detailed Harry Clarke. You can (sometimes) purchase a hard-to-find used copy of My Favourite Book of Fairy Tales here, or her Hans Andersen book here, can find Harbour’s other illustrations scattered about the world and cyberspace, and her pictures remixed into the book Mirror Mirrored, such as the images below.

Snow White

Snow White

Snow White and Rose Red

Snow White and Rose Red

1. There is a site that claims her father was an immigrant milliner from Poland to London, she went to a boarding school in Kent, never married, and died in 1959 after which her remains were interred in London’s Hoop Lane cemetery—unfortunately, the site neither provides any citations nor clues as to where it found this information. See

2. John Garth, “Artists and Illustrators’ Influence on Tolkien” in J. R. R. Tolkien Encyclopedia: Scholarship and Critical Assessment, ed. Michael D.C. Drout (Routledge, November 2006).

3. Letter from J. R. R. Tolkien to Carole Batten-Phelps, September 19, 1971, viewable at

If you enjoyed this article, please consider donating to Mirror Mirrored so we can bring you more like it.

By |2021-05-29T22:30:27+00:00November 12th, 2017|Books, Creative, Design, Illustrations|
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