What a Big Friendly Giant RIP-OFF!
He’s brought pleasure to millions by bringing to life Roald Dahl’s most beloved characters. So surely illustrator Quentin Blake made a mint from the recent BFG movie? No, he tells More, I didn’t get a penny!
People smile when they meet Quentin Blake. ‘They often say the same thing,’ says this kindly gnome of a fellow whose playful, scratchy pen has brought to life some of the bestloved children’s characters of all time, including the original Big
Friendly Giant, Matilda and The Twits, as well as all the other stories by Roald Dahl.
‘You drew my childhood,’ is what all his many grown-up fans say. ‘It’s a curious phrase, but I really like it,’ says Blake, who is 84 now and looks like he could happily live on the pages of one of his stories, with his wide smile and eccentric wisps of grey hair flowing behind an otherwise bald head.
This gentle genius has illustrated more than 300 books by the likes of David Walliams, Michael Rosen and even Beatrix Potter, as well as creating his own very popular characters such as the adventurous Mrs Armitage.
Blake is about to reveal a darker, more serious side to his character with a major exhibition of new work at the Jerwood Gallery in Hastings, which is where we meet; just a few steps from his home. ‘There will be some surprises,’ he says.
But first, I’m genuinely shocked by what he has to say about his most famous collaboration with Roald Dahl, The BFG. It was Blake who came up with the gnarly face, huge ears, warm smile and the whole look of the original Big Friendly Giant, which was lifted from the books and recreated in Steven Spielberg’s summer blockbuster last year.
The shock comes when I ask if he chose to get involved in the film or just take the money and run? ‘I don’t take the money and run. I’m not offered any, in fact. I don’t know why.’
The smile has gone. His lips are pursed. He’s serious. ‘I know Mark Rylance is very good and probably he did it very well, but I didn’t see it,’ says Blake. The character in the movie was based on his original vision and artwork though, surely? ‘We assumed, yes. But, I mean, you could say you got it from the text, I suppose.’
The film topped the charts last year. Did they really not pay him? No, no, no. I’ve no connection with the film whatsoever.’
I’m gobsmacked, I say. ‘Yes.’ Sounds like he is too, but presumably they paid the estate of Roald Dahl? ‘Oh yes. Hugely.’
Does the same thing apply to the highly successful, award-winning
Matilda The Musical? ‘More or less, yes.’ That’s terrible. ‘Yes.’
I feel terrible for him, because Blake is almost as responsible for these characters as Dahl. Does he ever feel he doesn’t get the credit he deserves?
‘That’s what Roald said, very generously, “When they read the book, they see Quent’s pictures.” I think it’s true. No, it’s fine. I mean, I get my share.’
His images appear on everything from games to tea towels, so he must have done well in other ways over the years? ‘Yes. From Roald’s books particularly, because I don’t have a huge royalty but they sell so many copies that I’ve done well out of it.’
That’s more than he usually lets on. Blake has made a lifelong habit of not giving much away in interviews, but today is very different. Slowly, as we talk in an upstairs room at the gallery, something changes. This small, quiet man in a dark-blue linen jacket and stripy shirt, talks about deeply personal things: from his love life and unusual living arrangements to his recent brush with depression.
It seems prompted by the unusual nature of the work we are here to discuss. The Only Way To
Travel exhibition will present a more emotional, darker side to Blake, with more than 100 new paintings and drawings.
‘The title is a joke, because there are as many different ways to travel as possible,’ he says. ‘That allows me to draw anything. They are mostly sort of grotesque creatures. You’re not quite sure whether they’re alive or aeroplanes. So they’re these bizarre things with propellers and faces. That’s one aspect of it. Then there are also some quite gloomy ones: men on crutches, in some strange landscape, which are about some kind of distress.’
He isn’t specific about the distress, but there are clear references to the refugee crisis, particularly a dinghy on a frightening sea. ‘It’s a way of saying, “This show is about travel, don’t forget about these people. We won’t forget them.”’
They are part of a set of smaller, quieter paintings. ‘The watercolours are sort of in moonlight. They’re more contemplative, more reflective. They take the mood a bit more seriously.’
For the past few years, Blake has been making work for the walls of hospitals and care homes. ‘I’ve seen the way art touches people,’ he says. ‘I had a series of pictures in an adult mental-health unit in London. One of the specialists said there was a chap who was deeply depressed, they couldn’t get him to respond to anything, but he actually reacted to my pictures. When that happens, wow!’
Does any of this come from personal experience? Surprisingly, he says yes. ‘I always thought it doesn’t matter what age you are, you just go on working, so last year I worked for the whole year – but on January 1, I got some kind of bug and I went into a kind of anxiety state. I was completely out of action for two or three weeks. Then I gradually pulled round. And now I’m all right. I mean, I had some medication for it. That was a form of depression, but it wasn’t particularly related to anything, it was to do with just having worked too hard.’
I wonder if he lives alone, but the only thing I have ever read about his private life is that he didn’t get married ‘by accident of circum-
stance’. What did he mean by that?
‘Well, two things, I think. I live in a bachelor establishment, but I’m not gay.’ By this he means that he shares his home with a man. ‘I live with John Yeoman, who is a writer and teacher. We have for ages. We have a modus vivendi, if you see what I mean.’
The Latin phrase means way of life. The second part of his answer relates to someone he introduced me to earlier. ‘I spend a lot of time with Linda Kitson. We’ve known each other for 50 years.’
Kitson is herself highly acclaimed and was the first female artist commissioned to go with troops to the front line, during the Falklands War. Are they partners? ‘No, but we’ve known each other a long time. I mean, we are constantly in touch.’ Sounds like marriage without the hassle, I say. ‘Very much like it. Exactly!’
Some of the new pictures are enormous, stretching from the floor to the high ceiling. ‘It’s a big room and I’ve done them in as many different techniques as I could think of.’
There are serious themes, but his methods are as playful as ever. Blake wants to inspire adults and children to have a go at making art. ‘I hope the show says to the audience, “You can muck about. You can do it if you like.”’
Dark or not, kids will love it. How has Quentin Blake managed to become the world’s favourite illustrator for children without direct experience, having never had any of his own? ‘You make it up! No really. The other thing is you just pretend you are one. It’s acting really.’
Does he wish he was a father? ‘Not particularly, no. I know people who have got sons and daughters growing up, and I can see how one would be deeply rewarded by that, but I’ve had enough to do. A young man wrote to me a few years ago and began by saying, “Knowing how much you love children...” And I thought, “No! I don’t love children!” I mean, I’m interested in them, but that’s not the same. It’s not that I want to be surrounded by them.’
So what’s the secret of his success with kids? ‘You just treat them like human beings.’
His first book with Roald Dahl was The Enormous Crocodile in 1978, and Blake has now illustrated every one of his famously crotchety old friend’s books. ‘He liked to wind you up if he could. He was able to be very aggressive, but I think he was more controlled than he pretended.’
Did they ever fall out? ‘No. He knew I wanted him to have what he wanted.’
The last time they saw each other was just before Dahl’s death in 1990. ‘It must have been not long after he went into hospital. He had a dog – a Jack Russell called Chopper, I think – lifted up outside the window of the hospital. That was a very Roald thing to do.’
The day we meet, there is news that Downton Abbey’s Hugh Bonneville is going to play Roald Dahl in a movie about the writer’s life. ‘I didn’t know,’ says Blake. Has nobody been in touch about this? ‘No. Dirk Bogarde did it once. Strange casting.’
Presumably, somebody may play Blake? ‘That’s a terrifying thought.’
He grins and it strikes me that for all the unsettling oddness of the new show, Blake is the very opposite of a tortured artist. ‘Oh yes, I know about all that, but it’s not me. People sometimes find it hard to imagine you have an imagination. I make things up. It’s shameful to say,’ he jokes without shame, ‘but I enjoy it!’
‘No! I don’t love children! I mean, I’m interested in them, but that’s not the same’