We find Qifrey bound in herbs as we return to Witch Hat Atelier, ensconced in the tools of his trade on the title page. He is at peace, and why wouldn’t he be? Though we often see practice as an imposition or chore, it is the only route through which we can achieve mastery, and mastery is the font of confidence, self-knowledge, and self-determination. In this world where our efforts are so often abstracted from our results, where the interconnected complexity of modern society robs us of tangible accomplishments, the mastery of a craft is a route back to an honest, immediate connection with the world. What’s more, it is like the cradle in which Qifrey is suspended – it provides us shelter and security made of our own hands, the skills that no changes in external fortune can steal from us. When we have nothing else, we still have all that we’ve learned – through practice and mastery, we make a hearth of our hearts, a smith of our hands, a library of our minds, and an atelier of our bodies, our burnished instruments working in marvelous unison.
Tag Archives: Witch Hat Atelier
The Liberation of Study in Witch Hat Atelier
With every return to Witch Hat Atelier, it is a rush and a comfort to again be guided by Kamome Shirahama’s skillful hands, her ability to lead the eye across visual compositions with such grace that the trick becomes invisible, only noticed by those who spend too much time thinking about things like panel blocking and negative space. As the apprentice witch Agate steps up to a bluff’s edge and then leaps off, briefly falling and then soaring into the distance, the effect provoked by each carefully chosen shape offers guidance for visually navigating this experience: the triangle of the bluff in the first panel leading the eye up towards Agate’s shock of dark hair, the way that curving bluff and Agate’s arched form guide us up, over, and down through the following two panels, the effortless way geography and panel lines combine to show motion across stable, inviting landscapes.
The Honesty of Magic in Witch Hat Atelier
Across its first two volumes, Witch Hat Atelier has articulated a philosophy of magic that’s quite distinct from your usual fantasy adventure, wherein practice, caution, and discretion are lauded as the key prerequisites for becoming a great mage. That is because, as any great craftsman or artist knows, there is no further secret. With careful study and diligent practice, anyone can create marvels that seem like magic to the untrained eye. Magic is no different than carpentry or painting in its method of mastery – the only thing that does separate it from any mundane craft is the profound danger of its misuse, meaning any large-scale act of magic must be initiated with the greatest of caution.
Witch Hat Atelier: Magic and Its Misuses
The first volume of Witch Hat Atelier was absolutely delightful for all sorts of reasons, ranging from its charming heroine Coco to the ornate illustrations that bring her world to life, imbuing every page and panel with a vitality born of soft line and incidental detail. But what most impressed me about this manga, so much that I in fact centered my first reflection on it, was Atelier’s insistence on treating magic as a practical, practice-oriented craft, rather than some fantastical power that some gain naturally and others could never possess.
The Crafting of Magic in Witch Hat Atelier
From your first glance at its volume cover, it is clear that one of Witch Hat Atelier’s great strengths is its lush illustrations, which delight in both their whimsical form and detail-rich content. Even the chapter index is adorned with herbs and baubles, speaking to the love of tiny mysteries and scene-setting details attendant in this realm of old woods fantasy. A pinch of this rare herb, a shaving of root, and something bright and glittering from the high jars of the atelier; the magical artisan at work is this story’s quintessential image, capturing both the wonder and the skill of true creation.