That would be me.

Obamamania

2008-08-12T15:01:14+00:00

It seems that most of the interesting projects that have flown through the studio this year come with the provision that I sign an oath of omerta until a grand public unveiling. The problem is that after years of doing this professionally, once a job is completed and delivered I’m on to the next and I seldom look back. So it was a nice surprise when my friend Mark Penta emailed me a photo of this book cover that I finished months ago.

Cherlynne Li art directed and just let me do my thing. I hope the book sells well in spite of that.

George Carlin

2008-06-23T15:49:14+00:00

For better or worse I received a good part of my philosophical education through comedians when I was growing up. In his early days, George Carlin was best known for his “7 dirty words” routine, which was quickly committed to memory by anyone who heard it. When I was a kid, I couldn’t for the life of me remember the date of any important historical event but those 7 words were instantly burned into my cerebral cortex.

I’m hoping they will be my last words.

In his later years Carlin evolved into more of an apocalyptic philosopher who still threw in a fart joke while ruminated on the absurdity of a loving, caring God. I think he referred to the Big Guy as “The invisible man in the sky who will damn you to eternal hell and flames to suffer forever if you break any of his rules….but he LOVES you”. Or something like that.
Carlin was also the narrator for the “Thomas the Train” tv show. I got a huge kick out of that when my kids used to watch it.

My brothers and I used to listen to a lot of comedy albums as kids. Looking back, the ones that stuck were, in particular order:

George Carlin – Class Clown
Richard Pryor – That N-‘s crazy
Steve Martin _Wild and Crazy Guy
Bill Cosby – Wonderfulness
Cheech and Chong – Big Bambu

Anyway, here’s to Carlin. I hope the invisible man in the sky has a spot for him.

Grand Theft Auto

2008-05-13T02:00:12+00:00

One of the most provocative pieces of writing I’ve come across recently was a New York Times review of the video game Grand Theft Auto IV. It was the first time I’ve been asked to consider a video game as a legitimate work of art, in the same vein as motion pictures or literature. And here I was, just thinking it was about killing, raping, and all sorts of until now unimagined mayhem.

I’ll say up front that my video game exposure in the last 25 years has been limited to getting my tail kicked by my kids on their Wii, and wondering how the hell to turn a Nintendo DS off so that it would stop…that…music. Still, reading the Times GTA review made me feel as though the train for pop culture’s future was leaving the station and I hadn’t bought a ticket.

A couple of months ago Chuck Klosterman wrote in Esquire about never having read any of the Harry Potter books and never intending to. What concerned him was the thought that he was willingly letting a generational gap open up between where he stood and those who had read the books. His point was that from here on out, the people who read the books would integrate the ideas and catch phrases into everyday life, and he wouldn’t even know that he wasn’t “getting it”. He seemed to be at peace with the idea of not being in on whatever joke these kids are playing.

I feel the same with video games. To me, it’s just a bunch of noise, killing, and bad behavior. But when you look at the numbers – Grand Theft Auto IV has claimed two entertainment industry sales records, posting the best ever single-day and seven-day sales totals for a computer game. Last year’s Halo 3 sold $300 Million it’s first week. That makes your typical Hollywood blockbuster opening look like peanuts.

But is it or can it be art? I don’t even know what art is most of the time, so yeah, sure, it’s art. What I do know is that this is a huge industry that is only going to grow in the years to come. If I were a young artist getting out of school and blinking in the harsh bright daylight of the professional world, I’d seriously consider the possibility of killing, carjacking, and drugging my way to a career.

Original Sin

2008-04-09T14:59:55+00:00

I posted this yesterday, but then had second thoughts. I assumed that after hanging out there for most of the day with no comments, that maybe it's not possible to talk about the topic of originality of style in illustration and art without bringing up specific personalities.

I'm not interested in outing anybody here. I am interested in the idea of where we come from as artists, and where that stops and where we begin. It's a murky line for me, I'll admit. I think of it like accents: You grow up in a place, surrounded by certain people, chances are you'll kind of look and sound like people from that region.

Every industry has its ripe armpit. I’m sure that for accountants, it’s the second set of books that “nobody” keeps. For athletes, it’s performance enhancing drugs. For us artistes, it’s originality of style.

When illustrators get together, one of the favorite gossip subjects is who’s ripping who off.

In the best of worlds, it goes like this: There is a Great Artist. The Great Artists dies. Years later, a clever art student discovers the Great Artist’s work and, like a child with a Batman costume, tries it on and doesn’t take it off until he either outgrows it, or he’s shamed into wearing his own clothes by the taunts and jeers of his peers.

To continue the analogy, the problem arises when the student does not look to the graveyard of Great Artists Past, but to the coatroom, lockers, and lunchboxes of his own classmates. Taking the clothes, eating the lunch, and passing in the homework of your classmates might get you a gold star form an oblivious teacher, but once that recess bell rings, you can count on a very rough reception at the jungle gym.

Now, how many of us are Originals? That’s a rhetorical question. None of us are. But it’s clear to see who has made the effort to hammer out their own bivouac on the cliff, and who is getting a free piggyback ride. I freely admit that I picked my way to where I am by using one person’s foothold here, another person’s handhold there. If I’ve reached any summit, I had a looong line of sherpas who got there before I did. Same goes for the rest of us.

If you’re not familiar with my work or those I owe a great debt to, here are some names: Mort Drucker, Jack Davis, Chris Payne, Gottfried Helnwein, Sebastian Kruger, Andrew Wyeth, Pat Oliphant, Vermeer, Caravaggio, and many many more. There are probably times when I cough up too big a chunk of one or more of these great artists work, but it’s never by design, and I’m always surprised by it, though I shouldn’t be. And when I do, I’m humbled by how far short I’ve fallen, and the idea of making my own way becomes that much more attractive.

We’re fortunate being artists. Each day we have another chance at expressing ourselves as ourselves. It seems like such a missed opportunity to use the short time we have here to sing someone else’s song, in someone else’s voice.

Peace!

2008-04-04T16:52:23+00:00

Today is the 50th anniversary of the peace symbol.

Gerald Holtom originally designed it for the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament.
The symbol itself is a combination of the semaphoric signals for the letters "N" and "D," standing for Nuclear Disarmament. In semaphore the letter "N" is formed by a person holding two flags in an upside-down "V," and the letter "D" is formed by holding one flag pointed straight up and the other pointed straight down. These two signals imposed over each other form the shape of the peace symbol. In the original design the lines widened at the edge of the circle. (Thank you wikipedia)

We often take iconic symbols like this for granted, but there are a lot of hours and energy put into the creation of something this simple.

I hope Mr. Holtom is getting residuals on this baby.

Peace out!