Available:*
Library | Call Number | Status |
|---|---|---|
Searching... Hardwood Creek Library (Forest Lake) | EASY GEI | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... Oakdale Library | EASY GEI | Searching... Unknown |
Searching... R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury) | EASY GEI | Searching... Unknown |
Bound With These Titles
On Order
Summary
Summary
Thunderstorm follows the course of a storm through midwestern farm country minute-by-minute, hour-by-hour, from late morning into late afternoon. As always with Arthur Geisert, it is a meticulously executed and visually stunning piece of work. Other than the timeline that runs along the bottom border of the illustrations, there is no text, and the illustrations are continuous.
Through keen observation, Geisert beautifully captures the nuances and details of a midwestern thunderstorm, from the ever-changing color of the sky, to the actions of the human inhabitants, to the reactions of the natural world to the wind and rain. America's heartland is somewhat unfamiliar territory in the realm of picture books, but in Thunderstorm , Geisert has provided readers with valuable, breathtaking insight into one of its most natural occurrences.
Arthur Geisert grew up in Los Angeles, California, and claims not to have seen a pig until he was an adult. Trained as a sculptor in college, Geisert learned to etch at the Otis Art Institute in Los Angeles. Geisert has published just about a book a year for the past thirty years. Every one of his books has been illustrated with etchings. His work has appeared in The New Yorker and The Horn Book Magazine . In 2010 his book Ice was selected as a New York Times Book Review Best Illustrated book of the year. Geisert currently lives in a converted bank building in Bernard, Iowa.
Author Notes
Award-winning children's book author Arthur Geisert has been creating etchings and hand-painting them in watercolor for picture books for over thirty years. Geisert grew up in LA and learned to etch at the Otis Art Institute.
Geisert's work has appeared in The New Yorker and The Horn Book Magazine. In 2010, his book ICE was selected as a New York Times Book Review Best Illustrated Book of the Year. It was the third time that his work was honored with the New York Times Award. While Geisert's books have been a big hit with children and adults alike, his work has also been recognized within the art world. He has exhibited his meticulous, lavishly detailed, hand-colored etchings at the Art Institute of Chicago and his work is in the collections of several different museums. Geisert currently lives in a converted bank building in Bernard, Iowa.
Reviews (6)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Geisert uses his trademark, closely hatched etchings to render the power and destructive potential of a Midwestern thunderstorm, approaching the topic and setting with the same seriousness of purpose seen in his Country Road ABC (2010). The spreads-more correctly, one continuous spread, as close inspection of contiguous page edges shows-begin with rolling farmland scenes as approaching clouds darken some areas while others remain clear. Cutaway views show the interiors of buildings and, in the ground below, the burrows of rabbits and foxes. The story follows a single farming family driving a red pickup truck hauling a trailer-load of hay; timestamps ("3:00 pm") are the only text. The family's roof starts leaking after the thunderstorm passes, but they venture out for another delivery, only to see a tornado churning in the distance. They take shelter under a bridge as the tornado descends on a neighboring farm, inflicting major damage. In the aftermath, helpers tarp the roofs and mop up. With multiple lightning strikes and twister touchdowns, the story is dramatic, though at times difficult to track. Nonetheless, Geisert has produced an ambitious and beautiful series of etchings. Ages 4-up. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Horn Book Review
Saturday afternoon the clouds roll in. A farm family prepares for the storm, loading hay bales and bringing in the laundry while animals across the countryside take shelter. Geisert's expansive full-spread etchings expertly capture the destructive power of a Midwestern storm, from the first strike of lightning to the intensity of gale force wind to utter devastation to, gloriously, a community rebuilding. (c) Copyright 2013. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Booklist Review
Once again, Geisert displays his expertise in the art of copperplate etching. A sequence of rural scenes shows a storm and its effects, while a family drives through the countryside, hauling stacks of hay bales behind their red pickup truck. Often viewed from a distance, their seemingly random movements and the progress of the storm provide scattered hints of a story. The minimalist text begins, SATURDAY AFTERNOON JULY 15 12:15 PM and continues by simply identifying the time of day, from 12:20 PM to 6:15 PM. Artistically, there's much to admire in the meticulously created etchings. The delicate watercolor tints bring the scenes to life, and the occasional cross-sectional views of house, barn, tree, and the earth itself will fascinate some children. Although the book's broad double-page spreads and fine paper provide a showcase for the art, the confusing visual narrative will confound viewers who try to connect the images into a satisfying story line for children. Still, where Geisert's books have a following, libraries will want to add this beautifully made volume to their collections--Phelan, Carolyn Copyright 2010 Booklist
New York Review of Books Review
"RAIN, rain, go away." Kids have always chanted the familiar refrain gazing out the window wistfully, chin on fist - as if they had the power to make it happen. But these days, what's a little precipitation when there are peevish birds to be flung and other indoor, on-screen distractions? In an era in which the directive "Go play" no longer implies "outside," the idea that rain may affect a child's fun is perhaps a quaint one. But four new picture books remind us that no matter how cosseted we are by technology, a downpour still holds the power to move us. Two very different attitudes about the weather go head-to-head in Linda Ashman's buoyant "Rain!" All furrowed brow and put-upon frown, an older, balding man grumps "Rain!" at the drops he sees outside his window. Meanwhile, in another apartment building, a little boy throws his arms up and delights at the "rain!" plinking on the fire escape. As the two go about their respective days - the boy with his green froggy hat and cheery disposition, the man with his pessimistic attitude - their moods are reflected in their environments and in the faces of the people they encounter. Christian Robinson, whose illustrations for "Harlem's Little Blackbird," by Renée Watson, made for a winsome debut last year, uses paint and collage to render the man's home in muddy colors; the boy's room, by contrast, has buttery yellow walls and circus polka dots. Everyone the man meets is soured by the experience, as shown by a downturned mouth here, an aggrieved expression there. The boy, on the other hand, spreads metaphorical sunshine, prompting enthusiastic waves and indulgent smiles. When the two inevitably cross paths, it's no surprise the boy's positive outlook wins over the grouch - eventually - but their interaction still feels fresh and natural. By the time the man returns to his apartment building, the sun is out; but the implication is that, having embraced the boy's viewpoint, he'd be happy either way. Unlike Ashman's story, in which rain drives the plot, "Water in the Park" showcases a sweltering summer day, and the storm arrives only in the final few pages. But water is everywhere: from the pond in which a small fleet of dogs goes splashing, to the hoses volunteers use to nourish thirsty flower beds, to the pails that industrious children fill from sprinklers and pour onto slides. In an author's note, Emily Jenkins says she was inspired by the various ways she saw people and animals use water during one punishing Brooklyn summer. Her story's characters are as diverse as their real-life counterparts in Prospect Park: multiracial families headed by straight or gay parents; nannies and their charges; an elderly couple who've not only grown to look like each other but who also resemble their stoop-shouldered, geriatric dog. Stephanie Graegin's pencil-and-ink washes depict more than a hundred individuals (go on, ask your child to count them), and several recur throughout the book, just as you might run into a neighborhood friend. Jenkins taps out the day's rhythm in clear, unadorned prose, as early-walking dogs give way to midmorning babies, who then make room for adults on lunch break and the after-school crowd, and onward until the skies open up at dusk. WHILE the average evening storm is rarely more than a nuisance for most city dwellers, farmers, typically, are far more vulnerable to capricious nature. It's this exposure that drives the story in the wordless "Thunderstorm." The illustrator Arthur Geisert grew up in Los Angeles, lived for many years in Galena, Ill., and now makes his home in rural Iowa. He may be best known for his anthropomorphized pigs, seen most recently in "Ice" and "The Giant Seed," but his new work is more in the spirit of 2010's earthy "Country Road ABC," in which "E" stood for Erosion and "I" for Inoculate. "Thunderstorm," too, is grounded in the real world, down to the time stamps that mark a squall's progress across Midwestern farmland over the course of one Saturday afternoon. The artist's trademark copperplate etchings, tinged with watercolors, lend a timeless feel to his slice-of-life illustrations, which show how a farm family and various animals weather the storm. Though the story line isn't always easy to track - Whose fence is being torn up? And where did that tornado come from? - each page's abundant details invite lingering and repeated visits. Cutaways reveal where foxes have burrowed for shelter, and offer a glimpse into the farmhouse kitchen, where the family warily eyes the leaking ceiling. Geisert allows the storm to do real damage, but he also shows the community getting to work once the skies clear, determined to set things right. "Boom!" tells a more finite story, and one many children will relate to. Pertnosed Rosie is a brave little dog. She gamely faces down tigers (well, a stuffed toy one) and house cats, and fears neither sudsy baths nor roaring vacuum cleaners. But the first crack of thunder sends her whimpering for comfort from, as Mary Lyn Ray affectionately describes him, "the boy she knew best." Though plenty of pups cower under the sofa when a storm rages, Rosie seems to be as much reader (or one-being-read-to) surrogate as pet. While the unnamed boy tries to explain away the noise with fanciful stories - "Thunder was watermelons rolling from a watermelon truck" or "a block fort falling" - the way a parent might, Rosie knows what's really happening. "It was the big, big sky growling big, big growls," she determines, and though she tries, she can't find a place where she feels truly safe. Eventually the boy scoops her up in his arms and they wait it out together; she imagines "the boy may have felt a little frightened, too," though the serene look that Steven Salerno has drawn on his face belies that notion. At story's end, the sun shines once more, Rosie yaps happily and the storm is but a memory, except for a few wooden blocks (perhaps from that aforementioned fort) strewn across the floor. In other words, this too shall pass. Carolyn Juris is associate children's book editor at Publishers Weekly.
School Library Journal Review
PreS-Gr 5-Thunderstorm raises talking about the weather to an art form. Each generously sized spread is an exquisite etching that crackles with the power of a Midwestern storm. The text merely notes the time while the illustrations bestow the breathtaking experience of being everywhere at once as the landscape is dramatically transformed. Readers follow as the farmer's family pulls in bales of hay, with the cows looking up as lightning snaps a power line. Owls scatter as a twister tears apart the tree where they are nesting. Dense clouds form overhead as the family grabs the laundry from the line. In a climactic illustration, roofs, doors, fences, and trees hurl and spin in the cyclonic winds. After six hours, the storm has passed, leaving the locals to pick up the pieces-many, many pieces. Those who experience this astonishing book will have greater respect-awe, even-for thunderstorms and for those whose lives are so intensely affected by these phenomena.-Susan Weitz, formerly at Spencer-Van Etten School District, Spencer, NY (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
A powerful summer storm careens through a Midwestern farming community in six hours, leaving an uneven wake of destruction. Geisert's pictures (wordless except for selected times of day) incorporate vast expanses of sky and earth. Intricate cross sections show the interiors of houses, barns and animal homes. As the storm builds, fox families take to their dens, and rabbits hie to their warrens. A lightning strike cuts off power at 12:15 p.m.; roiling funnel clouds fell trees and pulverize a farmstead on the horizon. A family in a red pickup towing a trailer of baled hay makes deliveries, stopping to help elders prepare. When the truck breaks down, it's towed and repaired--but the family must shelter under a stone bridge for the worst of the storm. The next spread is the story's most dramatic--a flash flood sweeps through, propelling house parts, uprooted trees, fences, a tire swing and more. It takes two tense page turns before readers know that the community's inhabitants are intact: They've all gathered to repair the house and barn of hard-hit neighbors. Geisert's meticulous line compositions are etched onto copperplate, inked and hand-colored. Masterfully, he captures the shifting light as thunderheads build, rain sheets and the night-dark storm moves through. Though children might need some reassurance, this beautifully nuanced meditation on the power of nature--and community resilience--will reward repeat readings. (Picture book. 4-8)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
