We are seeing a wealth of gorgeous picture books illustrated by established Black artists this year — by Daniel Minter, Elizabeth Zunon, Loveis Wise, Frank Morrison, Bryan Collier, April Harrison, and James E. Ransome, to name a few. (Calling Caldecott will be covering many of their books as the season unfolds.) But happily, we are also seeing a trend of Black artists making significant picture-book debuts. One of these artists is Carl Joe Williams, illustrator of Mardi Gras Almost Didn't Come This Year.

A quick introduction, from his website:

"Carl Joseph Williams was born in uptown New Orleans...Aesthetics of the work involve many complex color combinations and rhythmic patterns inspired by geometric patterns found in nature. Rhythms and harmonies converge into a symphony of colors that work together to create a powerful visual experience. It is my vision to create pieces that bring a sense of intrigue, color, and excitement while addressing the physiological and historical concerns of everyday people."

Williams is an accomplished artist new only to picture books, not to the art world at large. (This is also true of Janelle Washington, another debut picture-book artist; we will be discussing her art in Choosing Brave: How Mamie Till-Mobley and Emmett Till Sparked the Civil Rights Movement in November.)

Mardi Gras Almost Didn't Come This Year (see review above for a discussion of the book's plot) is a showcase for Williams's trademark geometric patterns and complex color combinations and is infused with an authentic sense of place — stunningly achieved by this native–New Orleans artist. At first, the patterns stay very much in the background: concentric circles around the sun before Hurricane Katrina hits; bands of wavy lines in the floodwaters during the storm; staid squares on the walls of the shotgun house the family borrows after their own house is destroyed. But when Mardi Gras–time approaches and the children are ready to return to life (before their grieving mother is), the shapes and patterns and colors come more to the foreground — and become more emotive and meaningful. Concentric circles radiate from the sister's generous heart as she determines to have Mardi Gras, even if it's just for her family; from a bouquet of flowers Pop-Pop brings for Mamma; from the horns of a trumpet and a tuba as a second-line band passes during an actual Mardi Gras parade. Finally we see an image of the family, restored by the joy of Mardi Gras and now optimistic that they will be able to rebuild their home, standing close in a group hug, centered on the page inside a harmonious circle.

The Caldecott criteria cite "appropriateness of style of illustration to the story, theme or concept" and "delineation of plot, theme, characters, setting, mood or information through the pictures." Williams's art in Mardi Gras Almost Didn't Come This Year exemplifies both these criteria. 

I hope the Real Committee is looking carefully at this book — and there's much more to delve into than I've managed here. I'm sure Calling Caldecott readers have thoughts as well! Drop your observations about this stunning debut into the comments.