This is a chiaroscuro styled and very brooding study, replacing a very smoky copy appropriate to the fogbound haunts of 19th century London. It was made in PhotoStudio and taken from a scanned pencil sketch of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Famous fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes, most of whose adventures I read and enjoyed more than three decades back. It is my version of an illustration in one of the many prints and reprints of Sherlock Holmes stories, although I can’t remember which one.
There were at least two versions I made in pencil: one in black and white and the other in blue on pale yellow art parchment, plus another in black-and-white pen-and-ink.
Currently, I cannot locate the versions in blue on Pale yellow art parchment and black-and-white pen-and-ink in my computer archives, which means that the originals have not yet been scanned in.
As it requires much rearrangement and setting up of equipment, I hope to do this when I am less busy with other matters.
I may then reset the featured article and slideshow accordingly.
The featured item currently on display is an enhanced black and white illustration, and a slideshow has been set, depicting four alternative duochrome views with the background situated between the green-yellow and orange band of the spectrum.
Dave Draper Spring 2014
Updated July 2014
In conclusion I am also including an extract from The Hallucinating Detective, a Sherlock Holmes Spoof I concocted in 2004. The full story can be located in the Writing section of this website under the Portrait, Caricature and Fantasy categories.
THE HALLUCINATING DETECTIVE by Arfa Cone and Oil 2004
THE DRAWING ROOM IS NIGH, the curtains are closed – only a chink remains open. Smoke drifts a lazy trail, disturbed briefly by a breath of ghostly air from the street below. All is deathly quiet and Mrs. Hudson is abed downstairs. Not even one little snore doth escape her nasal nostrobes on this hushed night.
From a curtain chink, the moon shines eerie – an unwavering slivery beam, angling asteeple through the deep-dancey shadows that be cast by a guttering green candle on the Hugo Victorious mantlepiste.
The contrasting effect is multipalied by the flickery of ghastly-lights, set at introvarts alongst the walls and turneyd a-low. It is an kaleidoscope of slow, strobic murtions emidst the mad, monstrupendous stillnest of inanimate urbjects and frunishings, all forced to take part in a strange ceaseless cycle of rhythermic patatterns.
Witsun stand at a really absur dangle, pouring whiskers down his throttle – or is it djinn? Who gnomes? I donut! His trouble shoulders him agay, or is it hith leg? I do knot gnome the answer to that either! He changeth his story so oftly – or was it Cone and Oyle, who jess could not get his fax strait? Agay, I gnome knot!
And me – I’m bored out of mine domekopf, skull-wise. No brain-cases, nor indeed, have any nut-cases thrown up recently to pit mine twits agayst and stir me to encompass active compost mentors.
How strangely strange I feel now: disorienterated, gibberish and disdelextical; malapropis, disgrammatic, alliterato; distortedated, didilated, extendebended, adriftose and akimbo –
Ahh – but enough of your problems, for I am anaespathetic, narcostic, intoxicata – doped up to the very iffy effing eyeballs.
Dave Draper 2014