Lena Winkel Illustrator based in Hamburg
WebsiteWhat brought you to illustration?
At school my favorite subjects were art, biology and German. I received a lot of encouragement in all three subjects: from teachers, my parents and artists who I met online. So I made a deal with myself: either I will be a ‘free illustrator’ (I picked up this term in some online forum and thought it was very romantic, maximum autonomy), if that doesn't work I will study literature, and if that doesn't work I will become a disgruntled geneticist, like Erwin Chargaff. But then I was (luckily) accepted to the HAW (Hochschule für angewandte Wissenschaften) course for illustration.
Are there any illustrators who have influenced you?
To answer this, I went back to an old folder to look at pictures I drew when I was in first or second grade. I identified these as early influences: Pokémon cards, Diddl, Ilon Wikland’s Katla from ‘Brothers Lionheart’, Jurassic Park III (which I was not allowed to watch but I had some stickers) andthe crying bird from Jim Button’s dream in ‘Jim Button and the Wild 13’. That probably says it all for now.
What was your very first illustration?
‘Dragon, calling his mother for dinner’ (1996, Title by titular mother)
What inspires you? Where do you get your ideas?
Reading, in particular reading texts about cultural theory or ecofeminism creates a solid base of positive thoughts in me. Another source of inspiration is pen and paper role-playing games. I like mapping particular ideas and motives onto characters and then seeing how they play out with the group at the table. And luckily, I play with very patient people who allow this. Something unexpected always happens when you improvise together, and for me it is the fastest way to bring characters to life.
Do you have a favorite illustrator?
In Bologna, earlier this year, I really loved the works by Anne Brouillard. And I think Catherine Meurisse was also at the exhibition. But I am not sure because I am not really that good with faces. But regardless, I really like the work of Catherine Meurisse as well. Who else? Janne Dauer, Sam Hensley, Michel Galvin, Helen Stefanies, and last but not least my professors in Hamburg. I was so lucky to be able to study with them: Kathrin Klingner, Anke Feuchtenberger, Sascha Hommer, Noëlle Kröger und Wiebke Bolduan.
Do you listen to music or audiobooks while you draw, or do you prefer it quiet?
It is usually better when it's quiet. But I love making playlists for everyone and every occasion, and I like to let myself get distracted. Particularly by Nichtseattle right now, if anyone is looking for a specific recommendation.
Do you have a favorite place to draw?
In bed on my iPad Pro.
Is there a story you would absolutely love to illustrate one day?
No, because the last years have been very contract heavy. My favorite thing would be to write my own stories and create comics.
Is there an illustration you are particularly proud of?
The thunder storm illustration from ‘Es flüstert und rauscht (it whispers and rustles)’ (Beltz & Gelberg, 2022), even though the posts of the bridge are sitting right in the middle of the street in that one. I'm also very happy with the illustrations for both parts of ‘Luftpiraten (air pirates)’ by Markus Orths. They were printed as a Duplex in black and Pantone-Blue, which looks really nice and should be done more often.
When you're not drawing, how do you like to spend your time?
Reading, swimming and watching movies from the 70s. Recently I've also been playing a lot of Baldur’s Gate III and Ukulele. Maybe one day I will also be able to write a sad folk song with A-Minor, D-Minor and E-Major.
What defines the profession of illustration for you?
I had a fairly normal, solid answer to this but then I read what Oksana Bula wrote on the subject. Her answer was: ‘The respect of other artists.’ I hope Oksana would approve of me quoting her here and taking her thought a little further. Because I wholeheartedly agree with her. And I would add that it is also about respect for what we depict. It is therefore important to take a position on what we try to represent and in an ideal case also on its history. (But what are you really representing when drawing a dragon?) I don't believe that this valuation has to take any particular form. On the contrary it has to be reinvented in every new drawing, often in careful communication with the text (which also still demands something).
Therefore, I don't think illustration is a task that is easily or quickly managed like the standard payment structures like to suggest. It is much more a form of conveying and communicating information during which you draw upon and engage with existing pictorial traditions. And therefore, in my opinion, illustration has unique access to the creation and expression of images.
Most recently I have been giving this a lot of thought during my work on the Siegfried Legend for the publishing house Kindermann. It is a very old story which was famously used for propaganda by the Nazis. And even if the result appears light and lively, I found it difficult to be in a direct exchange with material that has been so drenched in fascist history.
What do you think makes a good illustration?
It should move me like a small wild bird (or like a roly-poly).
Are you ever just not in the mood to draw or paint? And if so, how do you motivate yourself? Is there such a thing as writers block for illustrators? A creative block so to speak?
To quote Lynda Barry: ‘If you're lost, then draw monsters.’ Dragons always work. I actually don't really know the ‘fear of the blank page’. Often I'm already doodling during the first phone call about a contract and then I just get started. But there are always blind moments in the process, points where I can't stop getting hung up on unimportant details and become unable to make choices. At that point — at the latest — it needs a second pair of eyes on it.