Com um protector capilar.
Neste álbum, Os Chapéus Pretos e Outras Aventuras, de Spirou e Fantásio temos as histórias:
- Os Chapeus Pretos
- Spirou Anda a Cavalo
- Spirou e os Pigmeus
- Mistério na Fronteira
- Quick Super
- Fantásio e o Sifão
- Fantásio e os Patins Telecomandados
- A Lagosta
- O Tesouro Submarino.
Mais histórias divertidas com a marca Franquin.
Uma versão de um universo invertido – ou o que quer que seja!
Qualquer semelhança com a pintura “Son of Man” é coincidência, or maybe not.
I usually read accompanied by the sound of good music. I almost always choose between a touch of jazz by the master Chet Baker or I lazily listen to the Stabat Mater of Dvořák. After all they are the CDs that are almost stapled to my old CD player. These musical choices did not work with Blue Sparkles by Sissy Pantelis. So, I read the book without sound and then in the second passage through the final lap – kaaapooooom, I chose Wrath of the Lich King (OST) for a new reading – magic!
… odd thoughts …
- In the two spreads in which the prince ventures with his mother the rags of the fog create an atmosphere of perfect melancholy – secrecy.
- The prince’s mount, “a bird” has brought memories of World of Warcraft. How can I ever forget the gryphons of the Alliance!
- After the talk with Feather-Horn we have three spreads with so many, but so many details – delicious – that they alone raise the bar of what can be expected. Is the step bigger than the leg? No, it was not.
- Throughout the book one can discover immense references to works of fantasy, just throw the cards and be very careful with the queen of hearts.
- We have Firework Dancers, Pixies and even an owl piper. Ah! And Swan Knights… So much visual detail that each spread should be read-seen-seen-read repeatedly (loop-on mode) so that nothing gets lost – okay?
- I do not know how the collaboration between the artist and the writer was; maybe healthily sick? Watch the first panel of the story; in the anguish of the mushrooms; how much they suffer from the fiddly music of the frogs – brilliant!
- Individualized balloons that make the characters’ voices different.
- The moon red spread is abysmal.
Blue Sparkles is a musical book. Mysterious. A kaleidoscope of text, image and sound. Venetian masks, apple, shoe, Hansel, snow, red hood, crows – explosion. TAM. TAM. TAM.
If I already loved Sissy, the inclusion of crows was a tasty “Nevermooorrre” that made me smile with my mouth open. Dear Poe.
TAM. TAM. TAM. And the drums come to life and set the pace. TAM. TAM. TAM, in the background. Here I go to the end of a love story … Will a good story have an unfortunate end? End. Beginning. Perfidia. Mistake. Con. End of the nightmare, perhaps? Intermezzo and opening of a new chapter with a rainbow that reminds me of the Bifrost bridge, but without the presence of the mighty Heimdall.
TAM. TAM. TAM. Books inside a book and we have a wonderful library, naturally full with books, but equally filled with the tree of knowledge and a cat and a rabbit, too – Alice where are you?
A book that I read quickly, but that should be slowly tasted as a dream of a summer night, right brother Oberon?
Here are my loose and incoherent thoughts. I can do much more with a story full of changes, turns, with the introduction of details and more details and more characters around the corner.
Blue Sparkles with texts by Sissy Pantelis and drawings by Vurore is a mesmerizing book. As hypnotizing as that brown butterfly that flies through the book spying the unfolding of the story
“Are beauty and love not the most powerful magic?” – yes and also good books.
This opinion will not have an order, rather an orderly disorder.
Let’s see …
It’s not easy to make an acceptable “society” using animals that behave like humans. But the society of anthropomorphized animals created in Red Nightmare, by the perfect choice of species is an excellent “mirror” society. I can identify, in the facial expressions of animals/characters, the savagery, love, hatred, fatigue, perfidy, wisdom, fear, courage, revolt… The detail of the hyenas, the rabbit ghetto – perfect.
Danilo Antoniucci with a sturdy and musical trace created credible characters who transpired the good and the bad of humanity. If I have to choose a favorite character I point the finger at Night Wanderer: it’s the touch of humor in the story, the element that breaks the tension; the character that we envy for the freedom with which he flies for adventure.
Visually, Red Nightmare is a crazy, fun, colorful – wonderful trip.
The pages where the transition from the real world(?) to the dream world(?) occurs, are very well achieved – excellent color work.
The initial page is delicious: a towering castle, guards with an evil grin, a mother that wards off a child and the soliloquy of an anonymous actor deepens the text of the caption and so… the magic begins.
First, flip through the pages and see the images …
Second, read the text and see the images …
Third, read the pictures and see the text …
Reverse this order and mix everything up …
The text begins, from the very start, by embracing the images and soon on the fifth page we have the words ‘I can only help you see the future through me’ which will make the story take a magical leap into another more magical world – magic within magic, story within story; rabbit inside the magician’s hat. Text, image, special effects – kaboom!
Another kaboom and pause. Shock, surprise. Wow, what now?
And the words of Sissy Pantelis go along with the images and the images go along with the words without competition, in union. And the two elements well combined, oiled, offer the reader astonishment, pain, suspense, confusion …
‘CRI CRI CRI’ is fear to one and a surprise to the reader. ‘That’s … not good!’ is said – but it’s good, it’s, very good.
We have pages without text in which Sissy Pantelis boldly lets Danilo Antoniucci write with images; a wonderful writer who writes words in the silence of expressions, in the silence of moments. The reader is invited to think for himself, is gently pushed there, there, beyond.
And the story hurries, runs very fast and even flies (new inclusion of a story in the story – a bit of homage to another story, perhaps Peter, maybe Pan – I do not know!)
And when the artist and the writer finish without the consent of the reader, but with meaning, the story, I say:
You have got to be joking – it’s over?! How? And I begin to leaf through the book until, without any other solution, I place it there beside me on the shelf.
Apesar de ter criado uma história. Não a publico. Fica apenas a imagem de um lol tirolês.
Armand Sillègue and Henri d’Aramitz left behind the Hotel Chez le Pacha. They walked unhurriedly towards the Draa River. In each step they felt the throbbing desert presence and even the M’Hamid Mosque displayed a unique melancholy silence. The atmosphere of M’Hamid El Ghizlane was impregnated with an indescribable glow – poetry. This night promised to be even more special. The day before they had heard the aromatic music of Génération Taragalte; they had been enraptured, lying on the sand of the desert, idyllically stargazing, but they had felt, above all, how it is exhilarating to listen to the legends of the Sahara told around the campfire – a paradise on earth.
They stopped near a tree that guarded at its feet an Al Khayma. They led themselves in through the south entrance and sat next to the host, Isaac de Porthau, a Frenchman, captivated by the charms of the desert, who had invited them to a ‘night of magical discoveries!’
Sitting on a carpet composed of symmetrical geometric patterns, they inhaled, from a hookah, the aromatic tobacco smoke. The peach smell deodorized the environment. The eyes scrutinized the only object that dazzled, with an illogical gold inside the Al Khayma, a lamp.
The magical silence that could be felt was broken by Isaac de Porthau.
‘It is said that the tale of Aladdin was placed in One Thousand and One Nights by Antoine Galland to outwit the curious. Aladdin’s story is true and his magic lamp is this one that our eyes see.’
‘If that is so, why did you invite us?’ asked Henri d’Aramitz.
[… an excerpt …]
The ship raced fast and the Jolly Roger waved proudly. Kissed by a steady wind the “Black” galleon caressed the waves sensuously – elegant. The buccaneers, led by Black Dog, knew that they would find good fortune as soon as they left the Bristol Harbor behind. Black Dog always had an ace up his sleeve, but this time he had the full deck. Black Dog obtained from Walter Raleigh, his great friend still imprisoned in the Tower of London for having seduced a handmaid of Queen Elizabeth I, the indication that El Dorado was located in the area of Guyana; in the tropical rain forest that extends from the mouth of the Orinoco to the Amazon: a better tip than this, impossible. Black Dog did not need great encouragement to aim to confirm firsthand the confidential information. If this proved to be true, Walter Raleigh would be a great friend; if it were false, Raleigh would not go through the shame of having been deceived. There are currently not many friends, true friends, like Black Dog: right? A golden friendship!
They landed on Tortuga for a light decompression and refueling. When they spotted Barbados, Black Dog ordered the crew to assemble on the deck. From the top of the castle, he told them they were going in search of the mythical El Dorado. His companions of fortune shouted sonorous “Hurrahs” and in joy sang the song:
‘Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
Drink and the devil had done for the rest
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!’
[… an excerpt …]
This story will be published in Le Scat Noir #217.
I began to write a story about lol but the story forced me to be more than what I wanted.
Sources of inspiration:
– Le Scat Noir #215 by Black Scat Books
– Waiting for Beckett by Jason E. Rolfe
– Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett
lol was walking on the street Faubourg Saint-Honoré when he was attracted to a sign advertising a pixelated art auction. He went in and sat down. It was with amazement that he saw passing and passing, before his eyes, art in which the pixels were law and crime, order and chaos. Everything was taking place harmoniously when someone shouted an omg before the exhibit of the collection 404: a simple black pixel over white – the ultimate representation of minimalism or perhaps the true “ready made”; before being it already was. The truth is that lol, after hearing the release of those three simple letters, cackled a more than audible lol. He was discovered, pointed out and had no choice but to get himself a new skin.
são regularmente gastos na produção e manutenção deste blog uns bons pedaços de caldo, suaves e frutadas cervejas.
my goal is to keep me satisfied!
porta VIII is my personal site. Grab a beer and sit tight.
Are you comfortable? Take a look around to the new stuff and adventure trough the archives. Cá me podem encontrar a percorrer o mesmo caminho; a arrotar bom dia, boa tarde, boa noite, e por vezes um até já.