Early '90s Politics

This piece appeared in a Sacramento newspaper back when restaurants were dealing with the newly discovered health issue of toxic tobacco air by cordoning off Smoking Areas just a few yards away from where normal human beings dined. The cartoon may seem obvious by today’s standards, but back then it was a shot fired across the bow at pro-tobacco advocates who wanted a more civil discourse about their habit.

 This cartoon is also time-warped for the use of Zip-A-Tone. Transparent sheets of dots in various weights created tones of gray. The #11 Xacto blade was wielded on the flimsy and finicky material to cut the elaborate shapes that were required. Though once the staple of most professional illustrators and cartoonists, this product (along with rub-down letters) became suddenly obsolete as the computer set the new standards of reproduction.

  This artwork is now offered on Ebay, until 9/4 Here’s the link (to paste in browser with rubber cement):

http://www.ebay.com/itm/250880685321?ssPageName=STRK:MESELX:IT&_trksid=p3984.m1555.l2649 

Race With Rot

  This was one of a dozen ideas that my sister Eve dictated to me off the top of her head, one morning in 1994. That notebooks is buried in my archives, but I remember a few other topic ideas by heart:

  WHY BREAKFAST COOKS TEND TO BE SPEED FREAKS

  THE KITCHEN AS HELL; THE RESTAURANT PROPER AS THEATER (and the class differences that prevail in both worlds)

  THE HUMBLE GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICH AS PROOF OF A RESTAURANT’S COMPETENCE

  THE MONUMENTAL PAIN-IN-THE-ASS OF PROVIDING FRENCH FRIES

  Of course, all this and more has been since handled by Anthony Bourdaine in “Kitchen Confidential.” Not to detract from the maestro’s fame, but he writes with exactly the tone and language that Eve can muster at the drop of a hat—still—even after the chemo. I can’t help but wonder if he saw this piece, which appeared in a couple magazines prior to the publication of his book. It may seem like a small point, but it is indeed a sticking one. He, too, used that comical aside seen below, “CHEF, YOU WOULDN’T!?”

To see and download the entire piece at an enlarged scale, visit Google Docs.

 https://docs.google.com/leaf?id=0B2BRVzLZ17DCZmEzNWYxYzItMzI2My00MDRmLTg1NGYtZGU3MzNkNjc5ZjA1&sort=name&layout=list&num=50

   Eve also presaged David Sedaris’ languid Billie Holiday imitation (in his notorious Macy’s Christmas Elf sketch) by about 25 years. Back in the early ‘60s, she made up a little ditty which she could deliver with the saucy lilt of Lady Day:

DIS-EN-CHANT-MENT….CAN’T STAND ANYTHING.

 

Yet More Unsolicited Advice

This cartoon originally appeared in Signs Of The Times magazine. I have enhanced (i.e., tinkered around with) it using Photoshop. Until lately, I've avoided reckoning with this game-changing program. Now I think of it as the subtitle to Dr. Strangelove:

                              "How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb."

7/25/11 S. Clay Wilson Turns 70

If you are familiar with my work, you can probably spot a drawing by S. Clay Wilson from across a room. You have doubtless heard about his debilitating condition, the result of a catastrophic fall several years ago. There were hopeful signs of in the early weeks following his recovery from a coma. These days those signs are far and few in between days of constant maintenance and care by his devoted wife Lorraine Chamberlain in their S. F. apartment.
  The mercurial, provocative, hilarious Mr. W is somewhere inside of the being who resembles him. An occasional flash of the eyes and hint of a smile belie the long silences and monosyllables. He no longer draws, but  knows that he once did. It's on us to remind him of how great his work is and to affirm his presence here. Recognition of birthdays (especially his own!) is still one of his core beliefs. If you could send a card to him, Lorraine will patiently read it to him and explain the imagery. If you read this post after the all-important date, then maybe you could send a Christmas card. Or better yet, a Halloween card would touch his old demon's heart. You can also send donations at any time to:
S. CLAY WILSON S.N.T. (Special Needs Trust)
P.O. Box 14854
San Francisco, CA 94114
or through secure site:
http://www.sclaywilsontrust.com

  I recently wrote about the importance of Wilson's work in the Afterword to the McSweeney's edition of Binky Brown Meets The Holy Virgin Mary, so I don't need permission to quote:
  The very title of the work was a conscious nod to S. Clay Wilson. The word "meets" is in reference to Ruby and the Dykes Meet the Pirates. The active verb guarantees conflict, or reconciliation of opposites. The title of my book was a resolution writ large, to hasten confrontation with my yet-to-be-determined deepest fears. Though seldom lauded these days in the same sentence as Crumb, it was Wilson's feisty spirit that permeated many of the Underground titles, so devoid of the milk of human kindness.
   Soon after meeting me, he dubbed me "Guilty Green." With his strong personality and penchant for the undiluted, if uncomfortable truth, Wilson constantly challenged my artistic pretensions, yet I managed to hold on to a few of them during our heated exchanges. He was/is consistently true to his unique vision, wielding his pen with astounding versatility, creating immoral panoramas with the devotion of a monk. He is also capable of producing very tender images. While other cartoonists had published pornographic images it was Wilson's transgressive scenarios that redefined the standard of what is "beyond the pale."

An Old Piece Now Newsworthy

My "Sign Game" strip ran monthly in Signs of the Times Magazine from '86-'06. I experimented briefly with facial hair in '99 (as shown), but it only made me look disreputable. I'm thinking that this new campaign to scare smokers with vivid pack warnings might be a cash cow... if the USPO can print custom stamps, why couldn't smokers order custom warnings? Visit my store at http://www.pengrenades.com and order yours online.

Excerpt from "The Dying Penman"

From the instant that a line or mark is inscribed on a blank surface, it becomes a work-in-progress. Whether it’s doomed from the start to wind up in oblivion or destined to become a work of art depends chiefly on three factors: inspiration, clarity of intention, and technique (or execution). In practice, these pillars of the creative process are inseparable and they will continually be discussed.
Most literature about pen and ink is concerned primarily with technique. In Zen parlance, that is “pointing the finger at the moon.” One’s true technique evolves from personal search and experimentation, not adulation of another artist’s style. I still browse any and all books on the subject, even if they seem overly technical, and I’ve never encountered one that didn’t have some unique pointers or morsels of wisdom. I strongly advise the beginner to start a library on the subject. It will never decrease in value; and you’ll find yourself returning to the volumes over the years if you persevere in the craft. Even if you’re honest enough to admit that not one has ever been read from cover-to-cover, you’ll still be rewarded with insights that you can immediately put to use. Decades may clarify the meaning of some passages, even as they reveal others to express only relative truths that can be improved upon by direct experience. But even at the risk of missing the mark, one who has spent a life in ink doesn’t shy from leaving words behind in that most indelible of fluids.

The great French artist Theodore Gericault said that a true artist should be able to draw a body hurtling from a burning building before it hits the ground. If the word “doodle” can be substituted for drawing, I agree. Even within the field of pen and ink, there are so many types of drawing that the term is almost meaningless. When reading this book, please note the context of the advice that I offer. What may be true for one kind of imagery or style is not necessarily true for another. There are always exceptions to every rule, and no relative truth about art is universal.
What is a virtue in a successful work may also be perceived as a limitation. An artist who excels at bold studies of athletes in motion may lack the light hand or tender empathy so necessary for drawing children. And speaking of sports— please disregard the idea that art is a competitive enterprise which should or will be acknowledged with trophies and public merit. Regardless of the auction value of any artist’s work, living or dead, there is no ultimate winner or “best artist.” People who keep the records, historians and critics, bring cultural and personal bias to bear. Forget consensus opinion, too. Art is not a democratic enterprise. If you get to make a living at something you love to do, you win, and that may be as good as it gets.
With all due respect to my publisher, the profit motive isn’t the primary force behind the production of this book. He and I bring this work to print at a critical time in history for the conscious penman (and even for books themselves). I am seeing what I regarded as a slowly evolving and time honored craft suddenly become eclipsed, corrupted—then, finally, subsumed by the new computer technology. This revolution has occurred in a mere generation, side-swiping every purview of hand craftsmanship, from medical illustration to architectural rendering. Even Helvetica tombstones are now popping up everywhere!
I have already lived through this debacle in another field—as a traditional sign painter. It took less than five years for the field to implode after the new vinyl letters were introduced in the mid ‘80s. I stubbornly clung to the craft, chasing jobs that involved pictorials and complicated logos; yet even this niche became dominated by the new dot matrix/digital printers by the early ‘90s. Though “sign writing,” a subcategory within the general field of sign painting, has been rendered obsolete, the training and discipline needed to become an adept greatly improved my pen work. Any time spent with letterforms immediately amplifies vision and co-ordination.
I returned by necessity to the pen for a livelihood in the early‘90s, never dreaming that its existence would be seriously threatened so soon afterwards. Basic and refined principles of pen drawing are being relegated to historical footnotes. I feel driven to describe the dynamic nature of this art form I’ve pursued all my life in the hope that those who would try to take seductive shortcuts will realize what they are overlooking. With the stark realization that I’m running out of seasons, comes another grim thought: if I don’t set down these thoughts at this critical time, an artist of lesser skill might undertake the work; or worse, an inker of greater skill who might use a technical manual primarily as a showcase for finished work, with text content as only a secondary concern. I have made an earnest attempt to combine the two, as I know by heart the many pitfalls and misconceptions that a beginner might encounter along the way. Before I had any professional training, I entered the field by stealth as an auto-didactic. This book is a gift of love being sent back to myself, over half a century ago…

Assume Nothing

 This is excerpted from the forthcoming title, "The Dying Penman," to be published by the See Sharp Press of Tuscon. 

  This is an exercise in direct inking. Whether you use a dip pen or brush, there is a weight and speed to your line drawing that is as unique as your signature. Even markers will show your natural style, though the expressive capability of a single-weight line doesn’t reflect the variations of pressure and speed—which are among the strongest components of fluid drawing.

  All handwriting is imperfect. Even master calligraphers show slight deviation from idealized forms. That margin between perfection and your everyday natural fluid pen-stroke is called “tolerance.” It is a the heart of your personal style and despite all the new controlling powers of the computer,  this imperfection should be accepted—even valued—more than hidden. There are notable exceptions, but usually a bold direct line shows the spirit of cartooning. As “Brevity is the soul of wit,” many of the great cartoonists and illustrators work swiftly and directly,  trusting their first impulses. The more you rely on the computer’s white-out tool, your innate ability to make a pure and bold line is being compromised.

  This exercise begins with a pencil drawing that is comprised of a couple dozen lines (not including shading marks) to complete. It should be clear and simple, yet not too finished. The idea is to use this drawing as a template for several quick inked versions. If you don’t have a light table, then tracing paper will do for the ink work.

  If you aren’t yet comfortable with a dip pen, then use an ordinary cartridge loaded fountain pen rather than a ballpoint. Brush handling is covered in a separate chapter and its use here would not be the optimum place.

  These drawings should be done as if the lines being inked are just familiar letterforms. If the temptation is still strong to make familiar symbols for hands, feet, facial features, etc., then simply turn the drawing upside down and proceed boldly. You’ll be amazed at unexpected surprises from working this way.  Sometimes it takes a change of procedure to get liberated from a stylistic rut.

  By the time you get to the third drawing, your confidence will be increased. Details that may have been conceptual challenges in the first version become increasingly easier to refine in subsequent versions. This is not to suggest that later versions are always improvements over earlier ones; there may be early successes that are difficult to duplicate later. The important thing is to be aware of staying in the present with the ink. See the light reflected in the wet ink; hear the pen; notice that the slightest difference in the way the holder is twirled affects the outcome of the line or mark.

  A technical note: because you’ll be working on very thin paper for these drawings, an ultra pointed nib (such as a crowquill) is not recommended.  Choose a wider flexible nib, which will make it easier to explore the expressive capabilities of drawing without getting bogged down in unnecessary detail work and constant dipping and cleaning. There are times when you’ll be called upon to achieve very fine details with the help of a magnifying glass. But, hopefully, that kind of work will be rare. This exercise encourages spontaneity,  which adds flair to inking. Float like a butterfly  (with a careful pencil drawing); sting like a bee (with punchy inking)!