Character is essential to every drawing created by Zoë More O’Ferrall – it may be a rock star or it may be a cat, even a shoe – but it speaks to the observer. More O’Ferrall relishes every idiosyncratic twist of a subject, from unevenness of teeth to sharpness of claws; her task is to tell us exactly how it is, to ‘impale’ her subject. Her strength of line enables her to merge graphics and illustration, often combined with lettering. Her subject may be an old building or a hot designer but her work tells us everything we need to know about it without guile or subterfuge. There are elements of surprising line complexity and build-up of technique, yet the final results are strong statements that engage the observer directly.
One might infer a hint of cruelty in More O’Ferrall’s microscopic analysis of skin or stance, for instance, but these details are laid down with an authority that negates this and simply presents what she sees as the truth. The styles range from street to portrait, and black and white predominates; colour becomes a real statement. What is especially arresting is her ability to offer close-up, precisely drawn items as well as complex patterned designs, almost in the style of toile de Jouy. The fashion element is matched by a curiosity to investigate all kinds of subjects, from nature to still life.
More O’Ferrall’s work evokes careful engravings and woodcuts of the past with its precise lines and clarity of image construction. Some of it recalls the layout of samplers in the clean balance of each element, demonstrating clearly the graphic applications of her work. She offers a style of fashion illustration in opposition to the neo-Romantic styles of past practitioners such as Eric, René Gruau or René Bouché. Her task is to observe and record, and yet the work has real heart and emotion – the outcomes are not mechanical or technical, they are simply drawings that speak for themselves. More O’Ferral’s breadth of work is an excellent example of the range required to be a successful fashion illustrator.
Alexa Chung, 2010.
With the matelot striped top, crisp blazer and multiple necklaces there is something quite French about this portrait of Alexa Chung. The softly painted pale blue stripes allow the painstaking detail of the jewellery to show up perfectly.
Kate, 2010.
A fashion individual wears clothes their own way, which is what makes them stand out, but the twist in this fashion portrait is that the illustrator has eliminated the wearer and focused only on the clothes, leaving the viewer guessing about the model.
Where and when were you born and where do you live now?
I was born in London, a Londoner through and through. I’ve lived south, north, east… and now I’m settled in Notting Hill.
Any particular childhood influences?
From a very early age my parents often found me, pencil in hand, propped up on a stool in the corner of our kitchen, which was renamed ‘creative corner’. Travelling has always been a great inspiration for new work; exploring new cities and finding the elements – however big or small – that make up my impression of each place. It’s no surprise that architecture is a prominent subject in my work, perhaps as a result of that. Because a lot of my drawings derive from the ordinary and everyday objects in day-to-day life it’s hard to be too specific about what influences me; it’s fairly continuous.
What is your earliest drawing memory?
Drawing on the walls at home which, unsurprisingly, was not enormously appreciated.
What was your first professional work?
My first professional job was for Dazed and Confused. I was asked to create an illustration about the ‘Death of Publishing’.
Do you have a preferred medium?
I work primarily in ink and pencil; the only digital contribution comes in after scanning to clean images up and compose or construct them. I’m very much about hand-drawn aesthetics. Often parts of my drawings have started out as mistakes, which is something I think I’d lose in digital imaging. I have a madly expansive collection of pens and seem to have found certain favourites. I’m often sucked into a vortex of stationery shops.
Do you work in silence or with background music / radio?
I like to listen to a mixture of music and the radio while I work. It depends on my mood or the nature of the drawings I’m working on. I usually have Radio 4 on in the background; I pick up snippets and can float in and out of concentration, which is nicely therapeutic.
What would be your ideal commission?
I love that each commission and each brief is different from the last; it’s very refreshing to work for a variety of people in a variety of contexts. I loved working for Topshop; the art team there were wonderful and it was a great experience developing their ideas into visuals. A recent job to illustrate all over every last bit of a piano for Mumford and Sons was lots of fun; a huge amount of work but very refreshing. It would be ideal if I could continue being commissioned in new realms.
Are you a slow and careful or quick and speedy draughtsman?
I’m pretty careful, as there is often a lot of detail in much of what I draw, especially architecture. Thankfully I draw quite quickly – deadlines always feel shorter and shorter but I like working under pressure more than with the luxury of time. Working out of my comfort zone definitely slows things down so it’s dependent on the subject.
Do you keep a sketchbook?
Always, I find it’s a really important outlet for ideas. It’s helpful going through old sketchbooks, finding sources and starting points for new inspiration. Virtually all my commissioned work is drawn in sketchbooks too rather than on loose paper. I like the spatial confinements of a sketchbook.
How would you describe your work?
I’ve noticed a lot of people come back to the word ‘whimsical’. Primarily ink and pencil line illustration with touches of colour, though colour is something I’ve definitely had to tackle. I used to feel much safer in the confines of black and white but that’s developed a lot. Hand-drawn typography has also become a key part of my work, which is ironic given that typography was something that I used to find really quite daunting.
Do you research your subjects? How do you research?
It depends on each job and each subject. Thankfully I can save a lot of time sourcing images online, though with my map illustrations it’s usually good to research and explore the areas in person as you get a much better feel of the place. I travel a lot and take endless photographs so I’ve built up a pretty big catalogue of inspiration and source material. I work in a very literal way rather than from my imagination so the research is fairly key.
How does your personal work relate to your professional output?
I find they’re entirely intertwined. It’s hard to label it as one or the other. Maybe because of the nature of what I do, work does feel personal. A lot of the ideas and visuals for jobs I’m hired for can originate from personal work and vice versa. It’s helpful when you can refer back to previous exploration for new inspiration.
So Last Season, Topshop, 2010.
This witty take on the foibles of fashion implies both that the classic colouring of the bird needs updating, alongside the sad fact that once it is killed and eaten it is, indeed, last season.
Street Style, 2010
Two lads about town who are dressed to impress are captured in the simplest of drawings where all the focus is on the character of the wearers and the depiction of their outfits.
Rogue Brogue, 2009.
A single colour is used to draw a single shoe perfectly. Everything superfluous has been eliminated.
Karl, 2011.
The intense drawing of the jacket fabric and meticulously drawn hair are balanced by Lagerfeld’s hard black tie and spectacles. This is truth unadorned but not a caricature.
Flash, Flash, 2009.
The ability of a fashion illustrator to simply draw almost anything is shown here in this charming vignette drawing of a camera.
YSL, 2011.
Capturing the late Yves Saint Laurent in his later years, this fashion portrait shows the essential traits of the designer without tipping over into cartoon.