DRAWING ON WORDS AND IMAGES
ROSE ANNE PREVEC’S CARTOONS CAME TOGETHER ON GROUNDHOG HILL IN DUNDAS VALLEY
Finding her father’s old briefcase was the spark that lit Rose Anne Prevec’s creative fire.
Last year Prevec experienced two major life changes: her father died, and she took early retirement from her job at McMaster Museum of Art.
“I was lining up a number of projects that would keep me busy postretirement and lift my spirits during the difficult time following my father’s death,” she says. “He was a virologist at McMaster University, but a true Renaissance man, so of course the briefcase was full of inks, paints, brushes and quality paper. Serendipity!”
“Playing around with the materials,” as she put it, led to the creation of “Groundhog Hill,” a collection of delightful cartoons. The name comes from one of her favourite spots.
“I always loved hiking and biking the trails in Hamilton, never more so than this last year,” she says. “One day when I was sitting on a bench on Groundhog Hill in Dundas Valley Conservation Area, it all came together — here’s my place, here’s my cast.”
The cast of characters includes lovable wildlife such as raccoons — lots of these — squirrels, chipmunks, rats, birds, insects and fish.
“I can think less about anatomical correctness when I draw animals than I do when I’m drawing humans,” she says. “It’s fun for me. I approached this almost as if I were planning a novel, with a cast of characters, location, and tone.”
Prevec’s drawing style is concise. A few lines stand for a lot. But being concise is never easy.
“I’m always fighting the impulse to accurately shade things and cross over into illustration. Using a big fat brush helps me from getting finicky.”
She gives her creatures humanlike thoughts and activities, but without taking away their animalism.
“Most often it’s words or wordplay that sparks the joke,” she says. “Maybe it’s from all those years of writing and editing at the McMaster Museum of Art. Some turns of phrase just strike me funny when I imagine them coming out of the mouth of a turkey vulture or some such creature.
“Occasionally random doodles inspire the joke, but I always feel like I’m working backwards then. If that works, I just got lucky.”
In one “Groundhog Hill” cartoon, four coyotes howl under a big moon. That’s what coyotes do. But one of them stands on a park bench and calls out instructions like a choirmaster. In “Top Heavy,” Prevec’s word play involves deer, all sporting majestic antlers.
Humans and animals can also talk to one another. In “Secret Garden,” a helpful but cheeky squirrel interrupts a girl reading to inform her about the relocation of her bulbs.
“I’m in lots of them,” Prevec says. “The only human who appears is loosely based on a younger me, but I also speak through the mouths of any number of creatures. Only a couple are based on actual experiences, like when I met a coyote in the woods.” Prevec has been making art all her life. She studied art at McMaster University. She has just finished illustrating a third book about Toby, a service dog, written by a friend, Charmaine Hammond.
And she has drawn cartoons for family and friends on special occasions. When her friend Donna, a palliative care nurse, became a grandmother, Prevec drew a moving depiction of what should have been a close and joyful encounter.
“Her grandson was born during the pandemic at a time when she had to stay isolated. So, when she got to see and hear him at last, it was through a doorway that had been sealed with plastic wrap. She called herself ‘vacuum-packaged Nanny.’ ”
For more of Prevec’s work, follow her on Instagram: @Groundhog_Hill.