Dusk

“Boy with dog and grandfather with beard go for a walk” in the waning light of a winter afternoon. A street sign says Greenwich Village; the scene, and the companions, resemble those in Snow (rev. 1/99). After viewing a sunset over the river, they return to town and encounter several vivid characters accomplishing various errands (“‘I swear I declare / I’ll search here and there. / I’ll search till I find / the best of its kind. / Toys for my girls / and toys for my boys,’ / said man with cravat”). Meanwhile, “As nature’s lights go out, city’s light’s come on” until the streets are abloom with Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Christmas illuminations. Text here is minimal, with a nice lilt featuring irregular rhyme; the figures carry the action—whether Old-Country sturdy, stylishly debonair, or as zany as a “visitor from planet Zataplat” (the most modern of the characters, he’s dressed in a business suit and carries a camera). The city itself is deftly sketched, with energetically skewed buildings and wholesome signage (“Read Books!”; “Tai Chi”; “Toys”; “Physio Fit”; “M. Goose Theatre”). Shulevitz’s palette is similar to yet brighter than that in Snow (his more authoritatively drawn figures livelier without that subtle scrim of snow) and luminous indeed in the last few pages’ celebration of light. A lovely companion piece. joanna rudge long