He had truly enormous ears. Each one was as big as the wheel of a truck. The nose was as sharp as a knife, and above the nose there were two bright flashing eyes with a fierce and devilish look about them.

They say that over time, an artist begins to mirror his work. But as I take my seat opposite a bright-eyed, round-faced, miniature-proportioned illustrator, I decide that Quentin Blake must be an exception to this rule.

His endearing humbleness only intensified by the extravagant decoration of the Union, Blake could not be further from his recognisably scratchy sketches of long-limbed characters: the Witches, Mister Magnolia and, of course, the BFG himself.

After graduating from post-war Downing with an English degree, Blake has enjoyed the recognition and creative control that many illustrators can only aspire to and exhibited by 323 books including a fair proportion of which he has written himself.

For example, if it were not for Blake’s unique opportunity to influence the words he decorates, our beloved BFG’s toes would have been neatly cushioned in uncharacteristically sensible footwear instead of sticking out of the ‘pair of ridiculous sandals’ that we now cherish.

“I’m very pleased that I’ve done every book [Roald Dahl]’s ever written,” Blake muses with a proud expression that does little to suggest that questions about his most famous creative partnership have become wearisome. “Although, I did find one or two of his books were potentially a little more frightening than they needed to be.”

The post-Dahl Blake, however, seems very strong-minded about the work he accepts and the style
he adopts: “Sometimes I just don’t like the book mainly for, I suppose, literary reasons. But one thing I certainly don’t do
is advertising to children. I just think that’s a bit inappropriate.”

Instead, his most recent projects have moved to a much larger canvas than short novels. But Blake has not forgotten to appreciate the autonomy his 61 years of acclaimed illustrations have earned him. When asked whether he feels restricted by having such a distinct style, he claims no longer to be worried by it: “I think possibly I might have felt like that in the past because publishers – except for very good ones – find it very easy to typecast you. Part of their instinct is to want you to do the same thing again. Whereas something you want to do is a bit different.”

Yet Blake’s style no longer merely decorates the bookshops and bookshelves of Britain – people can now find his reassuringly familiar handiwork on the walls of hospitals, public squares and museums too. His fame elevates illustration to a level of respectability that shares wall space with names such as Degas and Toulouse-Lautrec in galleries across the continent. Nevertheless, a recurring theme seems to be that Blake always embarks on projects that prioritise the needs of the audience over expressing himself.

“I think the handwriting comes through anyway. It’s not a question of using a different style but a question of adapting it to that particular audience, I think.

“I’m happy to be identifiable; it’s nice for me, in a way. But a thing that I’ve become more concerned about is to find projects that call for some different version of my style, in a sense. They call for a different level of reality.”

Now increasingly intrigued by experimenting with new materials and settings, perhaps, in this way, the Peter Pan of Britain’s most celebrated artists has grown up over recent years.

“When I was a young man, sometimes I was pleased just to make a professional job out of what I was doing. I had to just live at home with my parents and thought, ‘I’ll just keep it up until I’m 30 and see how I’m getting on.’ Of course, I passed 30 without really noticing! It just happened.”

But it is a token to his modesty that Blake plays down his wide-eyed ambition and a commendable stubbornness to follow his dreams: “Part of getting a teacher’s qualification was an insurance policy. I knew that drawing was what I really wanted to do but of course, the received wisdom was that it was very difficult to make a living from it.”

In spite of this, Blake gambled and decided to go freelance before he became buried any deeper in what he ought or ought not to do.

Yet surely, in the face of “the Kindle thing and those reading machines” the chances of a student following the same career path nowadays is far slimmer?

“I suppose you could get a double-page spread on one of those readers. And, oh yes, there is animation. I guess there are other things that I don’t reckon I’ll ever be able to do,” he chuckles at the thought. Perhaps something for another Downing student studying English now? “Oh I do hope so, yes.”

He may be turning 80 very soon, but Quentin Blake’s sanguinity proves that he is certainly still young at heart.