'The Imaginarium of the Sketchbook' / Charlie Eastwood
Introductory word by Xavier Vasco:
There is something ectopic, out of place, about Charlie Eastwood's sketches. Maybe it's simply the materiality of the sketchbook, wherein things are divorced from their broader narratives, purified, and made absolute. In Eastwood's drawings, the orphaned objects acquire strange histories, which he creates entirely out of their own being. A bell tower from St. Stephen's Basilica, in Hungary’s Budapest, is turned into a bouncing figurine, and in another, a nude figure's breasts are plucked from her chest like sprung mushrooms. There is, as Eastwood describes, a sense of the “whimsical”, or rather a charming incongruousness to how we normally experience an object. Each sketch exists in the same cabinet of curiosity as Edward Lear's ‘Nonsense Drawings’, or Akira Kurosawa’s ‘Dreams’, playful and void of cynicism; they’re part of an indulged imagination, the child of genius and the genius of the child.
Each drawing is started with a rough sketch in pencil. Eastwood then renders the work using a fine liner or ballpoint pen. Below is a collection of a few of his drawings.