Annals of Captioning: Collecting the Original Art

Not so many years back, the winner of The New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest would receive a print of the cartoon bearing the winning caption, signed and perhaps personalized by the artist. The two runners up in the contest would receive, predictably, nothing. Nowadays, the winner also receives nothing, other than bragging rights, a rules adjustment that allows the magazine to take entries from all over the world regardless of different laws and tax codes. Needless to say—but I'll say it—the two runners up still receive nothing as well.

Which is where I come in. Having at long last made it to finalist status in Contest #969, the cornucopia cartoon, after twelve-and-a-half years of weekly attempts, I finished third in the voting.

Many people told me they liked my caption although some admitted they didn't understand it. I, whatever the outcome, was delighted to have my name appear in the magazine for the first time, and during it's centenary year, no less. I decided to pursue ownership of the original art before I knew what the outcome of the contest would be. The artist, Shannon Wheeler, was happy to make the sale.

My vanity purchase arrived this past Friday. Shannon was kind enough to also include a rough drawing and a print of an earlier rough with his original caption. First let's look at the original art, which is what I had sought. 

The rough he sent was probably publishable too, but he chose to refine the image further. The signatures differ, with a full O on the rough in Shannon and a dot for the O in the finish.

The sale date, March 11, 2024, was a full year-and-a-half before the contest appeared in the magazine. Such a delay is not unusual for The New Yorker.

The print gives us Shannon's original caption on an earlier rough. 

Here then are the four captions:

Shannon also included a personal note, in which he is very kind:

I was delighted even with the mailer. It bears several stamps saying Do Not Bend. There is also a stamp of Shannon's comics character Too Much Coffee Man, who has the same message:

The postal service heeded TMCM and the art arrived without a crease.

Note:  You too can own original art by Shannon Wheeler. Just visit his Etsy page here.

05178

W. B. Park: Double Courage

"Courage is grace under pressure."

—Ernest Hemingway

Original artwork by W. B. Park from 1984 portrays two men in business attire walking down a city street. One man name checks Ernest Hemingway. The art changed hands on eBay this past September. It bears the stamp and ID of an original New Yorker finished cartoon, brown paper wrapper and all, yet it did not appear in the magazine in this form, nor was it killed. Rather, it was redrawn prior to publication three years later, making this a very unusual example of preliminary art for the magazine that first had been purchased and prepared as finished art intended for publication.

"Like Hemingway, I believe in grace under pressure—unless, of course, things get too hot."
W. B. Park
Preliminary art
The New Yorker, March 23, 1987, p. 32

Detail, left

Detail, right, with W. B. Park's signature

The New Yorker Editorial Department stamp and layout notations

New Yorker copyright label

W. B. Park
eBay listing ended September 21, 2024

https://www.ebay.com/itm/204866893916?_skw=Rare+Original+The+New+Yorker+Illustration+Drawing+Published%2C+signed+%26+Fine&itmmeta=01JFEAMZEVRYHDT5AWD6341NHM&hash=item2fb304b85c:g:SsIAAOSw6qpmhJBa&itmprp=enc%3AAQAJAAABEHoV3kP08IDx%2BKZ9MfhVJKkVj23opHgwpQNXK7V4oIX8zWvWemmzUa3F8V%2BSiRqJwrwxRqrnz%2BcyVl8ZvfF8j0YZulj1N9vJZNSt

A0EQLzY01pMr7E0TJCuFRyBPHLsRKLKKjiFZyHhJb9zxk8CL4cd%2B12SLaAWrOWZt0aAAUiV%2F5q7ijpAcS4ibH6Cazq4HFBamuDQk5rEllN8M2ymXyXDeOP9K5HFE8uOuzDDgTabdNk%2FFLuhjmenTMpBdl0xVn4sNoo6jQXoVe12zpUeTGmxh9%2FLFv0PO2Q74zACk5RR8rfvH76tZZJ1F%2B66ZHgUnu1BIfbIHUDk8bYgsoaubVMm096kIShLJT4DBF9DSoEbf%7Ctkp%3ABk9SR8D308r7ZA

W. B. Park
eBay item description

[End of eBay listing]

The problem with the image, evidently, was one of scale. Someone decided that Park's original drawing would be better rendered in a close up, with greater emphasis on the figures rather than on the street.

"Like Hemingway, I believe in grace under pressure—unless, of course, things get too hot."
W. B. Park
The New Yorker, March 23, 1987, p. 32

"Like Hemingway, I believe in grace under pressure—unless, of course, things get too hot."
W. B. Park
Preliminary art
The New Yorker, March 23, 1987, p. 32

With cartoons by W. B. Park and Jack Ziegler

https://archives.newyorker.com/newyorker/1987-03-23/flipbook/032/

And opposite the Park drawing, there's a gold record winner from Jack Ziegler:

"Cyndi Lauper on four, sir, with a bullet."
Jack Ziegler
The New Yorker, March 23, 1987, p. 33

Note:  I am not aware of any other New Yorker cartoon which was prepared in two distinct, supposedly finished, versions. I would like to hear about any similar examples.

My thanks to Michael Maslin for walking me through all this and for explaining the Jack Ziegler cartoon which, honestly, I didn't get.

04836

Peter Arno: Romancing the Natives

On June 15, Swann Galleries sold two preliminary drawings by The New Yorker's Peter Arno. Neither is signed, but both are unmistakably the master's work. Swann's listing states, "He probably submitted them to the editors as initial ideas for cartoons, but apparently never followed through on them." Except that he did follow through, at least on one of them.

Arno's first sketch in the listing has an oval border and depicts a fully dressed white man in the embrace of two young Polynesian women wearing only grass skirts and flowers in their hair. They are reclining very publicly in an elevated hut, his pith helmet resting on the floor in front of the young women. Their arms are wrapped around him affectionately. A group of native men observe the scene in consternation. One, mostly out of the frame, is pointing out the objectionable behavior.

This sketch has no caption but was apparently meant to find humor in the jealousy of the men. The idea evolved, perhaps with editorial assistance, and went in a somewhat different direction when it was published in 1938 in The New Yorker. The man is now addressed by one of his fellow explorers with, "But, Professor, remember the thousands of little school children who gave their pennies to send us on this expedition." Visually, Arno's instincts did not serve him well here. He abandoned the depiction of tenderness that made the preliminary sketch so memorable and further objectified the women, who are now African and fully naked except for their neck rings.

"But, Professor, remember the thousands of little school children
who gave their pennies to send us on this expedition."
Peter Arno
The New Yorker, October 8, 1938, p. 16 

This sort of gag cartoon was a popular trope which today strikes us as sexist and racist, but was widely accepted in American print media in the 1930s. The drawing was collected in 1945 in The Peter Arno Pocket Book without an apparent second thought.

"But, Professor, remember the thousands of little school
children who gave their pennies to
send us on this expedition."
Peter Arno
The Peter Arno Pocket Book (1945)

https://flashbak.com/18-great-cartoons-peter-arno-pocket-book-1945-61156/

The second Arno rough shows three performers backstage at a vaudeville or variety show peeking through the curtains, probably with varying degrees of anxiety, at a laughing audience. It might have been a study for a New Yorker spot, or a cover, or perhaps a cartoon. It does not have, or seem to require, a caption. Arno may or may not have worked this idea up further. 

Both drawings together had a presale estimate of $600 to $900. They sold for a hammer price of $500, or for $625 with the buyer's premium.

Peter Arno
Swann Galleries, June 15, 2023

https://catalogue.swanngalleries.com/Lots/auction-lot/ARNO-PETER-(1904-1968)-Two-cartoons?saleno=2641&lotNo=236&refNo=807209

Incidentally, on the page opposite Arno's cartoon in The New Yorker is an outstanding short piece, "The Letters of James Thurber." You can read it in its entirety right here and, no doubt, guess the identity of the author who here goes by Anon.

A cartoon by Peter Arno and "The Letters of James Thurber" by "Anon"

https://archives.newyorker.com/newyorker/1938-10-08/flipbook/016/

July 12, 2024 Update:  Peter Arno's original art has come to light.

"But, Professor, remember the thousands of children who gave their pennies to send us on this expedition."
Peter Arno
Original art
The New Yorker, October 8, 1938, p. 16 

The typed caption is affixed to the art.

Note:  Unpublished work by Peter Arno isn't so easy to come by but for anyone who does, you're looking at a blog that can publicize it.

04366

Charles Addams: In the Psychologist's Waiting Room

An original, unsigned, rough drawing executed in Conté crayon and pencil by Charles Addams (1912–1988) is available from Argosy Books of Manhattan. It is set in the waiting room of a psychologist's office. The cartoon is apparently from 1959 according to the listing and was almost certainly submitted to The New Yorker. Today, the drawing will cost you $1750, although a more appropriate price might be $1812.

In the lower right corner, Addams considered setting this gag inside the psychologist's office with the requisite couch:

Charles Addams
Argosy Books listing accessed February 3, 2023

https://www.argosybooks.com/pages/books/312163/charles-addams/untitled-napoleon

On his Ink Spill blog today, New Yorker cartoonist and historian Michael Maslin identified the finished drawing in the issue of April 20, 1981. Argosy's 1959 date for the rough is almost certainly erroneous. The seated man in the waiting room has been reworked into the seated psychologist. The framed diploma is much more at home in the office than the waiting room. The coat rack, and hence the Napoleon delusion, has become the doctor's own.

Charles Addams
Preliminary cartoon art
The New Yorker, April 20, 1981, page 41
Addams, Charles. Creature Comforts, 1981

Spot drawing by J. S. Nelson and a cartoon by Charles Addams

https://archives.newyorker.com/newyorker/1981-04-20/flipbook/040/

Spot drawing of a bucket of tennis balls
by J. S. Nelson

04220

Charles Addams: Mrs. Gilson's Day Nursery School

Argosy Book Store of New York City has acquired a 1959 New Yorker rough by Charles Addams. It is hard to imagine another single panel cartoonist whose preliminary work would be priced at $4,000. To the shop's credit, the issue of the magazine in which the finished cartoon appears is fully cited.

Mrs. Gilson's Day Nursery School

Charles Addams

Preliminary art

The New Yorker, November 21, 1959, p. 42

The full sheet has some paper losses at the lower left and top center.

Mrs. Gilson's Day Nursery School

Charles Addams

Preliminary art

The New Yorker, November 21, 1959, p. 42

Charles Addams's corrections to the man observing the school are evident above his signature

The subject matter, it's safe to say, is one that would not be mined by the magazine today for humor. Addams gets away with it by only implying the presence of children, and by portraying Mrs. Gilson as matronly. The machine gun is a disciplinary prop; the school is a prison.

Detail of the man observing Mrs. Gilson at work

Verso

Charles Addams
Argosy Book Store listing retrieved October 20, 2022

https://www.argosybooks.com/details.php?record=310763&jump=1&pkd_source=_wantm&utm_source=website&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=wantmatch

For the finished composition, Addams has made the observer more prominent, enlarging his figure and widening the sidewalk.

Mrs. Gilson's Day Nursery School

Charles Addams

The New Yorker, November 21, 1959, p. 42

Mrs. Gilson's Day Nursery School

Charles Addams

Preliminary art

The New Yorker, November 21, 1959, p. 42

Cartoons by Charles Addams and Gardner Rea

https://archives.newyorker.com/newyorker/1959-11-21/flipbook/042/

Addams's finished drawing with its masterful shading contrasts nicely on the magazine's page spread with the line work of cartoonist Gardner Rea. Rea's Thanksgiving turkeys are here referring to that year's crop of cranberries contaminated with pesticides. That historical episode has been largely forgotten.

The Great Cranberry Scare of 1959

February 4, 2023 Update:  The Addams rough is no longer available (sold today, I believe).

Note:  Today, of course, a gun gag set in a nursery school would be unthinkable. School mass shootings were not an issue in Addams's time. In recent years, the reality of schools and guns is handled very soberly in the magazine, often on the covers and, of course, in the editorial content. See, for example, the recent Cover Story: "Chris Ware's 'Lockdown.'"

04114