As a character, Zelda often falls victim to the common struggles of the princesses many of us were told about when we were younger. She’s kidnapped, locked away, told to stay away from danger, and assigned unwanted knights to protect her. Surely, she would love some time alone to research or have fun somewhere she isn’t either trying to escape a dungeon or a hero’s gaze. Automatic Giraffe provides one such moment in the following pieces of art where Zelda is able to enjoy some wintery fun on her own.
In the first piece, Zelda is shown striding through the snow as she enters what appears to be the remains of a temple or some other ancient structure. In this piece, there are two elements that are especially interesting. The first is Zelda’s eyes. They are looking to the right, though we can’t see what she’s looking at. Her face doesn’t appear scared or upset, so it doesn’t seem like she’s looking at an attacker or pursuer. The peacefulness of her face almost looks like the curious expression someone gives before doing something that they’re worried other people will disapprove of. It’s the look a child gives before sneaking a peek at a hidden present or before they pilfer a sweet. The second element ties into this feeling as well.
The cracked ruins of the temple Zelda serve to frame her in a way that implies an escape from a cell. Vertical columns stretch high above her, boxing her in on both the right and the left. More columns are shrouded in the mists behind the princess, giving the sense of bars holding her in. It’s clear that this isn’t a literal prison. Ganon doesn’t often provide such calm and spacious accommodations. This prison is more metaphysical. Her many responsibilities are her cell. Whether it’s accessing her sealing powers, leading a kingdom, or serving as the steward of the Triforce of Wisdom, Zelda’s many responsibilities can often feel like a trap that doesn’t care a bit about the fact that Zelda is also simply a young girl who just wants to have fun at times.
In the second piece, we get to see Zelda enjoying a moment of simple, perhaps childish, delight. The princess kneels before a tiny snowman that she’s constructed. Its back is toward the viewer, giving Zelda a view of its tiny face. She smiles as she reaches toward it, and the placement of her fingers implies that she may have created this frigid friend through her magic. Where the background of the first piece resembled a three-sided box, in this piece, the box has been broken. The tall vertical columns of the first piece have been left behind by Zelda as she sought a place for some fun. Even the smaller half-columns found in this second piece of art are no longer vertical. They are mostly broken and slanted like the top of a cardboard box ripped open to reveal a surprise. Zelda has found a fleeting moment to leave the weight of being a princess behind so she can just enjoy being a girl playing in the snow.
As fans, we mostly only get to see our favorite characters during moments of extreme conflict. It’s the way of stories. That’s why I enjoy art like these two pieces from Automatic Giraffe all the more. They remind me that for all the ways that the Zelda series is wondrous and fantastical, there’s also a very real feeling of human wanting and emotion that connects our own mundane existence with the characters of Hyrule.
