Favorite Nursery Rhymes from Mother Goose, collected and illustrated by
Scott Gustafson (Greenwich Workshop Press, distributed by
Workman/Artisan, $19.95, 9780867130973, 100 pp., ages 2-up, September
2007)
While there is no shortage of Mother Goose anthologies, Gustafson's
lush full-page and full-spread framed illustrations, coupled with the
ample trim size (10.5" x 12") and luxurious paper hark back to 1940s
children's books and make this an ideal gift. He begins with a
fair-haired, blue-eyed Little Bo Peep on a hilltop, a breeze blowing
her ruffled petticoat and pastel pink dress in the direction in which
she searches for her lost sheep; her woolly charges mount the hill
behind her, their eyes conveying their loyalty to their keeper. But
many more of the images transmit the artist's sense of humor--and even
of justice: Humpty Dumpty, perched on a wall, looks so haughty he seems
to deserve his imminent fall, for instance (the horses and king's men
appear as a boy's toys); similarly, the trio of blind mice ooze menace
from their pores, so that we nearly root for the farmer's wife as she
grabs her carving knife. The artist makes sense of a few nonsensical
rhymes, too: Goosey, Goosey Gander sports the bright red cap and coat
of a bell hop as he labors under the weight of his lady's belongings
("Goosey, goosey gander,/ Whither shall I wander?/ Upstairs and
downstairs/ And in my lady's chamber"), and Jack, a grasshopper, nimbly
jumps over the candlestick to woo a butterfly with the present of a
lily. Mindful of the nursery-age set, Gustafson depicts Jack, a pig,
still in the act of falling down, before he's broken his crown; and in
"Sing a Song of Sixpence," "the maid in the garden" warily observes the
slit-eyed blackbird just prior to its "peck[ing] off her nose." In all
of his paintings, the artist captures a moment, perhaps none more
masterfully rendered than the portrait of Little Miss Muffett, who has
laid down her violin for a snack of curds and whey, when a spider
descends in a red coat and plumed hat; the look of surprise on both her
face and that of her King Charles spaniel is worth the price of
admission.--Jennifer M. Brown
While there is no shortage of Mother Goose anthologies, Gustafson's
lush full-page and full-spread framed illustrations, coupled with the
ample trim size (10.5" x 12") and luxurious paper hark back to 1940s
children's books and make this an ideal gift. He begins with a
fair-haired, blue-eyed Little Bo Peep on a hilltop, a breeze blowing
her ruffled petticoat and pastel pink dress in the direction in which
she searches for her lost sheep; her woolly charges mount the hill
behind her, their eyes conveying their loyalty to their keeper. But
many more of the images transmit the artist's sense of humor--and even
of justice: Humpty Dumpty, perched on a wall, looks so haughty he seems
to deserve his imminent fall, for instance (the horses and king's men
appear as a boy's toys); similarly, the trio of blind mice ooze menace
from their pores, so that we nearly root for the farmer's wife as she
grabs her carving knife. The artist makes sense of a few nonsensical
rhymes, too: Goosey, Goosey Gander sports the bright red cap and coat
of a bell hop as he labors under the weight of his lady's belongings
("Goosey, goosey gander,/ Whither shall I wander?/ Upstairs and
downstairs/ And in my lady's chamber"), and Jack, a grasshopper, nimbly
jumps over the candlestick to woo a butterfly with the present of a
lily. Mindful of the nursery-age set, Gustafson depicts Jack, a pig,
still in the act of falling down, before he's broken his crown; and in
"Sing a Song of Sixpence," "the maid in the garden" warily observes the
slit-eyed blackbird just prior to its "peck[ing] off her nose." In all
of his paintings, the artist captures a moment, perhaps none more
masterfully rendered than the portrait of Little Miss Muffett, who has
laid down her violin for a snack of curds and whey, when a spider
descends in a red coat and plumed hat; the look of surprise on both her
face and that of her King Charles spaniel is worth the price of
admission.--Jennifer M. Brown