Letting kids be kids

Words by Rebeca Ravara

Forgive me for my bluntness: the other day I saw a child sporting a Gucci bag around town and it made me wonder when was the last time I saw a kid be a kid

Norman Rockwell, an incredible artist whose career spanned and illustrated American contemporary life from around 1914 to 1970, was notable for various reasons. For example, many dismissed his stylistically expressionistic and cartoonish technique, though it has now been recognised as emblematic of the Regionalist movement. As part of a movement centred on capturing authenticity in Midwestern American life of this era, Rockwell was especially prolific in illustrating children: an often dismissed demographic in the visual arts. 

Consider Rockwell’s Children Dancing at a Party (1918) - one of his many earlier works used as a cover for the Saturday Evening Post - which I consider to be a magnificent portrayal of pure childhood awkwardness. There is an emotional honesty in this scene, as I’m sure many understand the uninhibited anxiety and excitement of a party at a young age. The frumpled kids in the foreground are highly enigmatic; their bodies writhed in shame and angst as it is clear that the boy has stepped on the girl’s foot. The two kids in the background, however, seem to be having a delightful time bouncing about, highlighting the sort of humiliation that a kid would consider the end of the world. There’s something quite wonderful about this playfulness - both in subject matter and the technicality of the paint - that is perfect for representing these childish years. 

Another piece worth discussing is Rockwell’s Distortion (1921): one that feels highly nostalgic. The boy stares at a reflection of himself in what appears to be one of the circus trick mirrors that humorously distort the body. Upon witnessing his reflection, the boy presents a wide-cheeked smile, his hands ready to move around in the hopes of creating further amusing reflections. Indeed, even his knees are buckled inwards as he plays with the lengthening distortion of his lower body. Subsequently, this work highlights the curiosity and mischievousness associated with the childhood experience. 

Though Rockwell continued illustrating the covers that made him a household name, he also shifted toward more independent projects such as Trumpet Practice (1950), which is probably my personal favorite. The painting shows a young boy contorted in a soft and quilled chair surrounded by other household decorations that are entirely of their time. A dog peeks out from underneath the sofa, possibly curious as to the sound or to keep up with what his owner is doing. The kid’s rainbow socks are scrunched at the end, and his jeans seem too tight. His shoelaces are untied, and his feet seem to either dangle in the air carelessly or deform upon impact with the ground. This carelessness, this awkward nature is incredibly authentic to the childish experience. This work is not just a portrait of a real child, but it is an emotional caricature of children in general. For example, being told to practice an instrument for a set amount of time at home, and huffing and puffing in a childish perturbation only to settle down and viciously blow on a trumpet.   

Quite often, nowadays, the portrayals of children in media we encounter present kids as more mature, lacking the raw and imperfect charm that Rockwell adorned his children with. 

Taken from the Zara Kids Instagram account, this is one of the pictures used for their FW 2024 campaign. It features a presumably young girl in the attire social media would term something along the lines of: ‘model off duty’ or ‘candid’. Wearing the trendy ballerina slippers, a short dress and a long brown overcoat, this fashion feels lacking with the dynamic messiness of Rockwell’s children. His children sport colorful and mismatched clothing combinations, and the scenes that Rockwell’s kids appear in are more representative of childish behaviors. This campaign image, however, presents a child walking through a city street, with an aura of confidence I certainly lacked at her age. 

I believe that building confidence and maturity in the younger generations is certainly important, but I also believe that having fun and allowing yourself to be emotionally connected to your childhood years is invaluable. To me, Rockwell’s kids are less idealised and clearly messier than the ones portrayed in contemporary media, they have a certain spark that I find entirely refreshing. Consequently, I can only hope that future artists learn to embrace this imperfect charm that Norman Rockwell so carefully captured.

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