When you enter Adelaide Murphy Tyrol’s studio, the first thing you notice is the patchwork of colors on the floor. At first, you wonder, “Is that a rug?” The colors are drawn in short, broad strokes, giving them a random feel.
But in reality, they’re remnants of a career as a background painter for large-scale movie sets, best-selling theater shows, and even photo shoots for fashion designers and magazines. Most of Tyrol’s clients were the big names in New York City, where she worked for many years. So when painting on such a large scale, Tyrol and her team sometimes go a little overboard and are left with splashes of color.
For Tirol, the mosaic must feel like a timeline of life on such a large scale, with each colour recalling a different project.
It seems ironic to an observer that Tyrol, who lives and works atop a hill in Marshfield with views of Groton, New Hampshire, and the distant White Mountains, now spends most of his time creating his own artwork (which is also sizeable, but by no means enormous) and as the illustrator of the delicate little images that accompany “The Outside Story” (published today in C3).
Since March 2002, Tyrol has been the sole artist illustrating (and drawing) the ecological essays that appear weekly in several publications across New England. “The Outside Story” began as a collaboration between the New Hampshire Charitable Foundation and the Northern Woodlands and is sponsored by the Wellborn Ecology Fund and NHCF. It has continued faithfully for years, even during the pandemic, with no signs of stopping. For many newspapers, including this one, it is a must-read.
Tirol explains her art and the “big/small” conundrum from her Master of Fine Arts thesis.
“Our knowledge of the world is constantly changing and evolving depending on the path of our inquiry. As human beings, we persistently seek to understand the world, explain human affairs, and establish codified belief systems. Differences in culture, geographic location, and political climate influence the way we research our ideas and intuitions, ultimately determining the quality of our expression,” she writes. “My work addresses the complex relationship between human culture and the natural world.”
Tyrole continues, “Parallel to my work (for 25 years background), I have consistently maintained a quieter, more intimate career as a botanical and natural history illustrator for books and magazines in Vermont. This work is usually very small-scale and rigorous, drawn with technical ink pen and gouache. Every element must be verified by scientific data. It is a very solitary job and is rarely time-sensitive. … This work gives me a direct entrance into the scientific world.”
She says, “My clients are natural historians, science writers, entomologists and botanists. My studio is full of taxidermied birds, pinned insects and field guides. Observing and studying the natural world is a lifelong interest and source of great happiness for me. In this work, the subject is paramount, and the resulting art is inconsequential. In fact, no one ever sees the original work except me. I scan it and send it digitally, and the illustrations stay in a dark drawer. I never exhibit it, sell it or show it to anyone.”
During a recent conversation in his studio, with a large panel depicting a giraffe looking over his left shoulder, Tirol explained that while a background painting commission requires teamwork and a lot of egos, drama and back-and-forth, his editors at Northern Woodlands send him the following week’s essays three or four days before the 6 a.m. deadline each Thursday.
“I usually do it the night before,” she says, “and I’m okay with very short deadlines, so being able to do it in a very short amount of time is a lot more exciting to me.”
She reads each essay intently. Tirol says she has always been interested in the natural world, so she has some knowledge of most of the topics the writers cover. Once she knows the week’s topic, she researches photographs, illustrations and images. Rather than copying a specific image, she wants to incorporate many elements to create an original illustration that is both recognizable and inspires curiosity.
“I really want this picture to make people pay attention to the article,” she said. “I’m trying to make this something other than just a diagnosis. … That’s a lot more fun for me. But it has to be right.”
On deadline day, she scans the illustrations and emails them to her editor, after which Tyrol returns to her personal work as an artist.
A quick calculation reveals that Tirol has probably done over 1,500 illustrations for Outside Story over the years. Name a creature indigenous to the Northeast (and a few invasive species), and Tirol has probably drawn it. To say he has drawers full of illustrations is no exaggeration.
While the subject matter of “Outside Story” is varied, she also makes her presentations diverse.
Tirol says she is experimenting with different types of paper and parchment, sometimes using ink made from walnut kernels, but also pencil and charcoal. She has many options and has only recently begun to explore new possibilities on grey newspaper with watercolors and colored pencils.
“The teachers don’t tell me what to paint or tell me how to paint it,” she said of Northern Woodlands. “It’s a really, really good relationship. … So I can experiment and do what I want.”
In the early days of the collaboration, Tirol would have had to devote more time to conceiving, painting and ultimately having the image mailed and delivered by the U.S. Postal Service, but technology has sped up that process.
Looking back, Tyrol couldn’t name a favorite illustration or a particular failure, and she said editors have never rejected any of her illustrations.
“I don’t have that many things that I would consider failures, but there have been times when things just didn’t work out and I had to start over, but that doesn’t happen that often,” she said.
A few years ago, Tyrol illustrated an exhibit at the Montshire Museum of Science in Norwich and has tried her hand at other “illustration” work. Meanwhile, her fine art is on display in galleries in New York City and her background is often featured in magazines, newspapers, videos and films. She says she has always been drawn to natural history work.
“I don’t take on illustration jobs anymore. … I don’t consider myself an illustrator. I consider myself a painter, and I’m very grateful to have had the opportunity to do this kind of work,” she said. “I feel like I’m capturing a part of the world that’s around us.”