Frank Asch and Vladimir Vagin met in 1986 at the first Soviet-American Symposium on Literature and Arts for young people at Breadloaf, Vermont. The result of their meeting was a determination to work together and in 1989, they produced the first joint book by an American and a Russian titled Here Comes the Cat. (Scholastic, $11.95, ) The picture book was simultaneously published in the Soviet Union and received successes as diverse as receiving it won the equivalent of the Caldecott, sold out a print run of 35,000 in two weeks, and was even performed by the Moscow Circus.
Here Comes the Cat is a near-wordless book that follows a Paul Revere-type mouse who alerts his countrymen to the approach of a feline's appearance in a series of balloons written in both English and Cyrillic letters. In the final pages, the book climaxes with the forboding shadow of the cat... and you turn the page to see a cat drawing a cart weighed down with a giant wheel of cheese. Clearly this book is an allegory for a political fear and animosity that characterized the Cold War, but perhaps its more major strength is that it functions and urges participation on so many different levels. A child as young as two can participate in the "Here Comes the Cat" refrain. For a four year old will come the delight of seeing the stereotypical cat-mouse role reversed and for this age Here Comes the Cat can also serve as a vehicle to help dispelling childhood fears. The parents of a more sophisticated reader might use the book to address issues of fear of the unknown, prejudice, peace and quick judgements. And a parent can see that adults who don't outgrow their child-built reasoning can have an effect on an international level. The power of this book seems to me that all these levels are so well-aligned that the book attains longevity and becomes a book for the entire family.
The enchantment continues in the newest Asch-Vagin release, Dear Brother. Written for children five and up, the book's point of departure is perhaps the strongest conflict most children face...that of sibling rivalry. Children get two sibling stories for the price of one as they discover the story within the story. The story commences with two squabbling contemporary mice brothers who by the story's end improve their relationship with the discovery a set of letters written by their forebearers. The core of the story is told through the letters of the older mice. One mouse moves from the country to the city and this sets up worry, then judgements and fear. All of these feelings are resolved as the mice experience their caring for each other and are led to a truer understanding of their brotherhood. The allegory of brotherly love on a world level and the need for deeper understanding lies just below the surface of the story and yet it is never intrusive or didactic. This seems to be in keeping with one of Asch's ideals which is to create " a book that will stay in the mind of a child and still have relevance later on...a good story goes into the subconscious and works on the inner most parts." Asch finds pride in Dear Brother in part because of having met this ideal and producing a book which "does a whole lot, is not superficial, and yet it's substantial and fun." Asch finds that the issue of brotherhood is deeply rooted in him and perhaps this explains why he gives neither literary or figurative brotherhood a cursory definition. Again, the levels of philosophy lie waiting dormant for family discussion. Asch believes that in both personal and political we must look at the past and decide what to do--"push away from it, throw it out, or discriminate and keep some of it, retain from the past what's there of value." If there is one factor that seems to be the strongest tie between both books, it's their depth.
"The first book", explains Frank Asch, " addresses the issue of peace and fear and the second book addressed the issue of going deeper in relationship." And movement in the books is echoed in a growing that is external to the book--that is of the deepening brotherhood of collaboration and both artists' processes. Dear Brother was begun, at least partially, in creative response to a cross-Atlantic communication that Asch and Vagin maintained during the initial phases of Dear Brother. By the book's completion, Vladimir Vagin, a big city dweller, like the city mouse in his book, had moved to Vermont. Experiencing artistic freedom beyond what he knew existed, Vagin, formerly a Chief Art Director for a Moscow Publishing house, sometimes works twelve to fifteen hours a day on his illustrations, often with a magnifying glass to aid his detailing. Though perhaps his English expression isn't perfect, it is clear when he describes the changes in his life. "When I left the Soviet Union, I was working at a table and I was working in a Publisher's House and it was very difficult for me. Now I can work at my table, all the time, all the day. I'm glad to do a long time everyday. It's very important for me. I love this life!"
Asch, himself the illustrator of over forty children's books, sees a change in Vagin's work that he finds difficult to put into words. Vagin has always done highly detailed kinds of work, but a vibrancy that Asch only sensed in earlier work has come alive, Vagin's color sense has become even brighter and he "tends to saturate the page with color." As the two artists have worked together, their collaboration has strengthened and grown. There has always been a strong bond between the two that many times manifested in the writing and illustrating. Serendipities even crossed continents while Dear Brother was in process. Asch had the city mouse fall in love with a woman who played piano without knowing that Vagin's wife Gallia was a great pianist who taught at the Russian Conversatory of Music. But Asch notes the collaboration has changed in ways that are different than the obvious superficial ways of being closer geographically. "In the beginning, "Asch says, " I wanted to work with a Russian to make a statement about that, but now I just want to work with Vladimir and it's become a more personal thing. When I create with Vladimir, I create bare bones and he adds magic, a feeling of being out of control and never know what's going to come, not just in terms of illustration, but writing too. It's about relationship--that's the frontier of the human psyche somehow." Collaboration has also effected their individual work. Asch says "what's amazing to me is that what I write is influenced by Vladimir and his energy; I write things that I wouldn't have written otherwise and that besides bringing this richness, the collaboration has opened up a place for working with other people." And Vladimir Vagin would like to begin writing his own books, an artistic expression denied him in Moscow.
Magic and relationship continue to enrich as the two men work on their third collaboration, The Flower Fairy, due for release next spring. The allegorical fairy tale tells of an emperor who tries to imprison a flower fairy and the book addresses the issue of the environment...and once again questions relationship. The obvious moral apparent in so many children's books about this issue is avoided because to "it is the story that is crucial to the book, and you won't know it's environmental unless you look into it." In the creation of this new work, Asch and Vagin view themselves not as citizens of specific countries, but a citizens of the world who are examining their relationship with nature. Vagin, going through a renaissance of his own, is particularly excited about the Italian renaissance setting not only because he has always liked the style, but because the idea came to him in a dream. The magic and dreams the two men capture between children's book covers and their own model of accomplishing what looks superficially impossible will not be lost on children who are always willing to wonder, believe and change the structure of their knowing.