"Norstrom, I think it's high time you tell us where you're taking us on this."
(Our third entry in the “Artist’s Turn” series, by W. B. Park. First rights only.)
I am standing on the little bridge in our back yard, watching my school of koi swirl their colors in wondrous circles. I built the pond years ago, framing it with large coquina stones, letting vines and plants curl and sprout where they would.
Soon other creatures joined the fish: birds now splash and play in the top dish of the water spill; feral cats (my cat, Chopin, wouldn’t dream of going outside amongst such ruffians) slink around, taking the measure of the birds and fish; a large frog named Sheila leads a chorus of smaller frogs each evening in twilight chorus. And on occasion, a raccoon (God knows how he threads his way through the multilayered suburbs) makes a nocturnal appearance, happily washing his tiny hands in anticipation of a freshwater dinner. Fortunately, my koi are large enough and savvy enough to fend him off. read more…
“Bruce Eric Kaplan is a whiz of a cartoonist, a comic writer of the first rank and a reason to look forward to each and every edition of The New Yorker.” — Neil Simon
If you’re in the LA area next Wednesday, February 3 (at 7:00 p.m. PT, to be exact), stop by West Hollywood bookstore Book Soup to meet New Yorker cartoonist Bruce Eric Kaplan as he presents and signs his latest compilation. I Love You, I Hate You, I’m Hungry, the first collection of Kaplan’s scathingly funny work in more than ten years, showcases 180 of the longtime New Yorker contributor’s cartoon commentaries on relationships and the neuroses that govern them.
Nowhere near LA? Not to worry. The Cartoon Bank is offering signed copies of I Love You, I Hate You, I’m Hungry, available to pre-order now. Call us at 1-800-897-8666 for more information.
While not created as a response to the destruction of the recent earthquake in Haiti, the 2007 painting “The Resurrection of the Dead,” particularly in the ghostly guards occupying the doorway (called guede, in Haitian myth) and the surrounding wall inlaid with pairs of gazing eyes, transmits to the viewer an appropriate sense of somber regard for the passing of souls.
“The Resurrection of the Dead”, by Haitian painter Frantz Zephirin, was featured on the January 25, 2010 cover of The New Yorker. The magazine will donate all profits from print sales of this cover to Partners in Health, which provides health care and other services in Haiti and has taken a leading role in earthquake relief efforts.
(Our second entry in the “Artist’s Turn” series, by W. B. Park.)
One rainy night I am sitting in my little library, nursing a few fingers of Wild Turkey 101 as I read about the formation of the Magna Carta. This document, forced on King John by his barons in 1215, forever limited the powers of English monarchs and opened the way to the immensely important writ of habeas corpus. It also influenced the development of English common law and the United States Constitution.
My mind is as far removed from cartoons and captions as it can possibly be, yet I feel something forming. Gad. Am I so wed to the creative process that I can never turn it off? Such is the plight of writers of gag lines, and drawers of cartoons. read more…
Growing up outside Philadelphia, the young William Haefeli pored over New Yorker cartoons by Charles Saxon and Peter Arno, whose work frequently chronicled the ritzy lives and intelligent repartee of the East Coast upper class. Today, Bill’s own cartoons for The New Yorker carry on that whip-smart tradition in a modernized atmosphere. Though his distinctive drawings regularly feature gay and lesbian characters and people of color, the first thing you notice isn’t always their identity; more often, it’s the uncanny talent for self-expression they all seem to share. Bill’s characters produce the kind of commentary that makes you burst out with a chuckle before you can stop yourself – incisive, honest, and just this side of wicked.
We caught up with Bill over e-mail recently to ask him a few questions about both his life and the lives of the people he puts on paper.
TCB: As a child, were you always into drawing, and did you always know you’d end up a cartoonist? What about your experience growing up influenced you to become a cartoonist?
WH: I always enjoyed drawing – except when teachers told me how I ought to draw. I always thought it would be fun to be a cartoonist, but I had no idea I’d end up one until I was almost out of college and the thought of doing anything other than cartooning made me very, very, very sad. As a kid, I was enchanted by the cartoons in The New Yorker. How could so much enjoyment come from one drawing and one line of dialog?
TCB: Did you ever consider any other career options? What were they?
WH: As a cartoonist, I had a number of very lean years at various points of my career. However, I never seriously considered other career options – although more practical minds might have advised otherwise. Cartooning provides me with both a constant creative challenge and, more importantly, an ideal opportunity for self-expression. read more…
Gahan Wilson, a long-cherished name on The New Yorker’s cartoonist roster, will be making an appearance at the Strand Bookstore in New York City (828 Broadway at 12th Street) Tuesday, January 19 at 7:00 p.m. Wilson will be signing and discussing his recently released book set, Gahan Wilson: 50 Years of Playboy Cartoons.
The collection, a set of three volumes in a slipcase, assembles every cartoon Wilson has contributed to Playboy, along with all his text/art features and writing for the magazine, dating back to his first fiction piece in 1962.
50 Years of Playboy Cartoons on sale through Fantagraphics Books
(Man in greeting card section labeled "Stop Sending Me Cards.")
The Cartoon Bank Blog will be on holiday break until the week of January 4. We hope for happy holidays and a good new year for all of our readers. Until 2010!
"Actually, it's pronounced 'An-hel'."
(A reprint from the October issue of the Cartoon Bank licensing newsletter.)
If you have a healthy appreciation for the absurd and the anthropomorphic, a Leo Cullum cartoon – one of hundreds that he’s contributed to The New Yorker since the 1970s – will make your day. His drawings frequently star animals, from neurotic elephants to bi-curious dogs, though he lavishes plenty of attention on human foibles, too. Whatever the subject matter, a Cullum cartoon brings an immediate, knowing, and grateful laugh.
We recently e-mailed Leo to learn more about his life’s work, present and past. (Including his long career as a pilot in the Marines and for TWA. Fact!)
TCB: Were you always interesting in drawing? What kinds of things did you like to draw as a child?
LC: As a kid, I always drew stick figures of battle scenes, eventually evolving into full-figured fights of cowboys and Indians.
TCB: Did you have any role models in the cartooning world while you were growing up – New Yorker artists or otherwise? What about now?
LC: I loved Don Martin at Mad magazine. Around 1970 I discovered The New Yorker, and when I initially started submitting cartoons, my ideas were bought for Charles Addams to draw. So, in that respect, he became my mentor. read more…
"I'd better get a hit country song out of growing up this way."
(A reprint from the September issue of the Cartoon Bank licensing newsletter.)
Cartoonist Kim Warp first fell in love with cartooning when perusing her parents’ copy of Collier’s Collects Its Wits, where she encountered cartoons on “everything from dysfunctional families to drinking.” Now, she’s living the dream, contributing her comic stylings regularly to The New Yorker, as well as to Barron’s, the Harvard Business Review, Reader’s Digest, Cosmopolitan, and many more. The Cartoon Bank caught up with the Seattle native via e-mail at her present home in Virginia Beach, to discuss what a difference a studio makes, among other topics.
TCB: Describe a little of your background as a cartoonist. How long have you been drawing? What kinds of things did you draw as a kid? What kind of formal artistic training did you have in high school or college, if any?
KW: I’ve been drawing as long as I can remember. My mom used to tape big sheets of butcher paper on the kitchen table for my sisters and me to draw on every morning. Drawing was a form of play and trying to make each other laugh; we would draw pictures of each other, people we knew, or anything, really, that might make milk come out of someone’s nose. I think this was probably the first shove towards cartooning in my life. As far as formal training, I majored in art in college with a concentration in graphic design (thinking that I might be able to make a living out of art that way). Hey, what do you mean, “if any”?
