Have you seen Laëtitia Devernay’s wordless picture book The Conductor?
In it, a tails and bow tie clad conductor walks into a forest of tall-trunked, fat-leaved trees—their tangled, dancing roots visible beneath the soil. He gazes up toward the tallest of the trees,
and then climbs to its top.
At the end of the story—song, really!—the conductor climbs back down the tree and…ack! I am desperate to tell you what magical thing happens. But I will restrain myself. Find the book though. Read through to the end.
The Conductor (originally titled Applaus and originally a leporello style book, with all its pages able to open accordion style) is a gorgeous study of both the picture book and music. It is full of rhythm and sound…despite being wordless. But in addition to this, it is also a deep and simple study of creativity. The forest inspires the conductor. This inspiration—this love and curiosity and awe, really—births the impulse for the creativity. The conducting of the music. The music itself. But then…ack again! I can’t give it away.
But I will say that then…the conductor inspires the forest.
What fills you with curiosity? What washes you with hope and love and awe? What stimulates your flow of ideas and emotion?
And then, oh then! What can you do to give that curiosity, hope, and love back to the landscape from which it came? What will unfold from that offering?