Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

The brief was to come up with a portrait illustration featuring one of the characters from Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  I was given the Oompa Loompa.  The brief was in conjunction with a competition to design a 50th anniversary poster through 'Don't Panic' website and the new Musical.

The original description of the Oompa Loompas caused some controversy as they were essentially a tribe of black slaves that were brought over to work for cocoa beans.

I therefore decided to remain faithful to the revised version of the book which describes them as being 'knee high' having 'astonishing haircuts' and having golden hair and rosy white skin.  I didn't want to be influenced by any of the film versions or the new musical.

As the main objective of the illustration was a portrait, I couldn't show the 'knee high' stature of the Oompa Loompa, so decided to cut off the bottom of the face to imply shortness.

I also wanted the astonishing haircut to be the factory which I think works quite well.

Original Pencil drawing

Competition Entry

I decided to enter the competition with the above entry because I was sure I was finished and happy with what I had done.  My tutor at college said I should try a version which was bolder and showed more of the pencil work.

Final Version

I was happy with my competition entry, but have to admit that the above version is much more fitting for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  The colours are brighter, and the image has more of an impact.  Unfortunately I can't enter the final version into the competition because I already entered the other one.  Oh well!


Click here to visit the poster design website:

http://dontpaniconline.com/designtheposter/charliechoc

Moon Horrors 2

The second illustration I wanted to be quite different from the first, and decided to go for more of a garish style, taking reference from 70's movie posters and ephemera.

Moon Horrors

Moon Horrors

The brief was to use Photoshop to create 2 illustrations for the Ted Hughes grim poem 'Moon Horrors'.

Here is the first, which I wanted to be a more traditional style of narrative illustration.

The Moon Hero

Moon Horrors 

Ted Hughes

When he has dined,

The man-eating tiger leaves certain signs,

But nothing betrays the moon’s hideous number nines.

Nobody knows where they sleep off their immense meals.

They strike so fatally nobody knows one feels.

One eyed, one legged they start out of the ground with such a shout

The chosen victim’s eyes instantly fall out.

They do not leave so much as a hair 

But smack their chops and go off 

Thinner than ever with grotesque hops.

Now the shark will take a snack by shearing off half a swimmer.

Over the moon presides a predator even grimmer.

Descending without warning from the interstellar heavens

Whirling like lathes arrive the fearful horde of number sevens

Whatever they touch, whether owl or elephant, poet or scientist

The wretched victim wilts instantly to a puff of purple mist.

And before he can utter a cry or say goodbye to kith and kin

Those thin gut number sevens have sucked him ravenously in.

Mosquitoes seem dreadful for they drink at a man as he sleeps.

Night and day over the moon a far craftier horror creeps.

It is hard to know what species of creature you would have to be 

To escape the attentions of the moon’s horrible number three.

He attacks as a nightmare and the sleeper dreams he is being turned inside out

And sucked dry like an orange 

And when he wakes it has all come about.

Ever-afterwards he is perfectly hollow and dry while his precious insides nourish some gross number three wherever that monster now resides.

But the thing that specializes in hunting down the great hero

Is the flying strangler: silent zero.

It is luckily quite rare, perhaps there is only one. 

According to legend it lives sleepily coiled round the sun.

But when a moon hero appears it descend and hovers just over his head.

His enemies call it a halo, 

But his friends see it and tremble with dread.

And sure enough, in the very best of his days, 

That zero drops around his neck, tightens and whirls away with him

Into the sun’s blaze.