Even a quick stroll through the Oval Gallery on the Madison Building's sixth floor leaves the visitor convinced that the images in "Mental Pictures" are the work of an artist speaking with a singularly imaginative voice.
That artist is 38-year-old Henrik Drescher, born in Denmark, whose drawings of flaming heads, unidentifiable anthropoids and headless eyes -- assembled with found objects such as postage stamps, straight pins and trinkets -- challenge even the most passive viewer with their nontraditional imagery. Mr. Drescher's family came to America in 1967.
"Drescher is very much on the cutting edge of contemporary illustration," said Harry Katz, curator of applied and graphic art in the Prints and Photographs Division. "And unlike many other illustrators who specialize in a field, Drescher works in all fields -- editorial illustration, children's books, political art and advertising."
"Mental Pictures," which runs through Dec. 12, exhibits the very personal style of Mr. Drescher, whose work has been embraced by The Washington Post and The New York Times, as well as by less traditional publications such as Rolling Stone and The Progressive.
The exhibition title was suggested by Mr. Drescher, who describes his work as a "junkyard of the mind."
"It seemed to me that what was different about his approach is that it is so cerebral and internal, what he sees when he closes his eyes," said Mr. Katz. "So when he said 'Mental Pictures' I said yes, because it was just what I was trying to think of. "Drescher began to make his mark in publishing in The Progressive, a very liberal journal," Mr. Katz said. "But to my mind, though much of his work is published in more liberal journals, he doesn't have a political agenda. What you see is a more humanist agenda. He's dealing with nuclear annihilation, violence in South Africa, the arms race. He is trying to convey his anger and disbelief over human behavior."
Although Mr. Drescher's style makes his art immediately recognizable as his own, not everything he draws has the "in- your-face" attitude of works such as "Waste Deep" and "Truth Is Stranger than Fiction." His illustrations for children's books show a gentler, albeit no less singular, style. He has written and illustrated five books for children anc collaborated on 10 others. Three of these books have been named to the annual Ten Best Illustrated Children's Books list in The New York Times Book Review.
"Within the field of children's books, works such as Drescher's represent a new phenomenon of conceptual style. Artists like Drescher have had a great deal of success selling children's books," said Mr. Katz. "Increasingly, publishers are looking for illustrators like this." Drescher's latest book is called Pat the Beastie, a parody of Pat the Bunny.
"This mainstream acceptance of sometimes wild, conceptual art is very interesting," Mr. Katz said.
Mr. Drescher's first children's book (1982) was The Strange Appearance of Howard Cranebill Jr. "It is a story about unconventionality -- what Drescher himself draws on -- and being happy while being different," said Mr. Katz.
Drescher's political illustrations are no doubt contemporary in execution, yet their content harks back to the editorial cartoons of the mid- to late 1800s, wherein a strong central image makes the point but smaller drawings, symbols and words convey a deeper level of meaning. Take "Waste Deep." A man in a gas mask is sinking into an inferno of refuse, symbolizing environmental havoc. A closer look reveals symbols such as a skull, desiccated bone, bits of garbage. Another ecological work, "Breather" shows a head whose nose extends across the lead canvas, elongating into a giant trumpet-shaped tip. Three-dimensional glass eyes surround the main image, their meaning left open to almost any interpretation. "The words evoke thoughts about what we are doing to the environment," said Mr. Katz. "'See the air,' it says. Of course, if you can see the air, it probably isn't very good for you."
"What draws me to Drescher's work," said Mr. Katz, "is that although he's technically a very accomplished artist, his pieces come across in a very crude way. He uses Xerox, pen and ink, found objects. He is experimenting. A finished work of art is not what he's about. He's about a work that has texture. His symbols and signs give you a sense that he has thought deeply about his subjects."
Mr. Drescher gave many of the items in "Mental Pictures" to the Library; others were loaned. Some of the works will be included in LC's Cabinet of American Illustration, which Mr. Katz described as a "highly selective" repository of 4,000 illustrations, begun in the 1930s and '40s, of the "great luminaries of American illustration. We have since added to this collection very carefully, trying to bring in pieces by contemporary artists."
Unlike many of the pieces in the Cabinet, the work of Drescher allows the viewer to ponder many interpretations. What is the significance of straight pins piercing the background? Are postage stamps meant to convey something about modern society? Do headless eyes symbolize truth as detached from the biases the mind brings to the images seen? Only Drescher knows for sure. Or perhaps not. "Drescher conveys an unease and disquiet," Mr. Katz said. "He doesn't make it easy for you."
"Mental Pictures" is on view through Dec. 12 in the Oval Gallery, Madison Building, sixth floor, Monday through Friday 8:30 a.m. - 6 p.m.
