Showing posts with label too close?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label too close?. Show all posts

Monday, September 4, 2023

Labor Day 2023 at The New Yorker

At The New Yorker, Labor Day 2023 looks very much like Labor Day 2001. Today's Daily Cartoon published online is by Paul Karasik:

Labor Day
Paul Karasik
Daily Cartoon, September 4, 2023


This Daily resembes a color "Sketchbook" cartoon by Danny Shanahan published in the magazine back in 2001. It's not clear to me whether fact-checkers review the Daily Cartoons in search of such similarities or whether they even work on Labor Day.
"Sketchbook"
Danny Shanahan
The New Yorker, September 3, 2001, p. 65







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Sunday, April 2, 2023

Mrs. Robinson: Joe Dator and Harry Bliss

"Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me. Aren't you?"
—"The Graduate" (1967)


The line is one of the most famous from "The Graduate," Mike Nichols's celebrated 1967 film starring Anne Bancroft and Dustin Hoffman. The film poster is iconic, showing a staged still photo of the hotel room scene with Mrs. Robinson donning her stockings after she has seduced Benjamin. This is not actually the scene with the famous above quotation, but it's an image everyone remembers, and Mrs. Robinson's stockinged leg stands out in both scenes.
https://beloitfilmfest.org/biff-event/guess-whos-coming-to-din
ner-fnb-classic-film-2017/the-graduate_movie_poster/


Joe Dator gives us his take on the famous scene in a 2014 New Yorker cartoon with a contemporary twist:
Joe Dator
The New Yorker, May 26, 2014, p. 68


Note that Dator gives Benjamin a suit similar to what he wore in the earlier seduction scene, but not in the hotel room scene. On pages 54 to 55 of Inked: Cartoons, Confessions, Rejected Ideas and Secret Sketches from The New Yorker's Joe Dator (2021), he discusses how he had to carefully rework his caption to make it conform not to the actual line from the film but to the way most people seem to remember it.

In February of this year, Harry Bliss co-opted that same scene himself in his syndicated panel cartoon Bliss. He too moves the famous seduction line into the hotel room scene, but his speaker is a dog.
Harry Bliss
Bliss, February 17, 2023






The line in question is spoken by Benjamin after Mrs. Robinson invites him into her home and offers him a drink:
It occurs here just after 3:40.



A cartoon by Joe Dator


And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson.







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Wednesday, February 8, 2023

Clown Feet: Charles Addams and Ronald Searle

How often does it happen that two top cartoonists come up with virtually the same idea? Actually, it's not all that rare, and often it does not involve intentional or even inadvertent copying. Charles Addams (1912-1988) and Ronald Searle (1920-2011) were two of the leading cartoonists of the twentieth century. It happens that at some point they each pursued the idea of a tired clown taking off his shoes at the end of the day and they both arrived at a strikingly similar place. Addams's version exists as a rough, probably submitted to The New Yorker, and published posthumously as a postcard by the Tee and Charles Addams Foundation; Searle's is a finished drawing with watercolor collected in his 1978 eponymous monograph. Searle's cartoon was created for the XIVth Circus Gala, Paris, 1971, and it was in the collection of his wife Monica Searle. The date of Addams's is presumably unknown to the Addams Foundation, but it doesn't particularly matter which came first. The artists were separated by an ocean and were probably unaware of each other's clown pictures. The drawings are here presented in alphabetical order by cartoonist.

Clown Feet
Charles Addams
The Tee and Charles Addams Foundation

https://www.ebay.com/itm/402724192642?hash=item5dc43b8182:g:vKsAAOSw4NFgPmaK&amdata=enc%3AAQAHAAAA4Jn%2B
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ThPiKPdbmSB7GBe9Qnww9iGZ%2FJ2ylPs0uzz4NUCMF7yqtJ
sxrZKb4KIvgxHHG2RvQrxPFfLEHkMmlGS8qh%2FK8zb3
OZi23U36t4Y4e%2BV%2FXbNWl5qxMt3ROECRE99rr
kCac1xlxEizcdEgp7ree%7Ctkp%3ABFBMhp-KzsRh


Clown, 1971
Ronald Searle
XIVth Circus Gala, Paris, 1971
Ronald Searle: exposition, Cabinet des estampes, Bibliothèque nationale, 26 janvier-31 mars 1973, Paris, catalogue no. 99
Ronald Searle, Mayflower Books, New York, 1978, no. 92



First off, Addams gets a lot of points for subtlety. Just hinting at the size of the clown's feet, rather than showing them to us outright, is ingenious. Searle, as is his wont, gives us a lot of extraordinary detail that is ultimately extraneous to the main point of the drawing. We're shown the clown's newspaper, Le Monde (this was created for a Paris Circus Gala), his ash tray full of spent cigarettes, and his liquor. We even get to see his street clothes and his umbrella. And what a wonderful water pitcher Searle has given us! The details are very specific.


So, which do you prefer?






August 16, 2023 Update:  Postcard sold!





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Thursday, July 14, 2022

The Perfect Piece of Toast: H. T. Webster and Harry Bliss

Yesterday's syndicated Bliss panel calls to mind H. T. Webster's 1948 classic from his series The Thrill That Comes Once in a Lifetime:

The Thrill That Comes Once in a Lifetime:
Newlyweds['] First Breakfast
H. T. Webster
November 27, 1948
The Best of H. T. Webster, 1953





Harry Bliss visits the same territory. He substitutes a dog for the woman at the table. This is something we saw him do in a 2017 panel inspired by a James Thurber New Yorker cartoon, so it certainly looks like a pattern.

Harry Bliss
Bliss

July 13, 2022



Stop me if you've heard this one already. In 2008, Harry Bliss famously borrowed from comic book legend Jack Kirby for a New Yorker Cartoon Caption Contest without crediting him. You can read about that controversy here. I have previously documented examples where his cartoon panels seemingly come very close to well-known work by Charles Addams, William Steig, and James Thurber. Coincidence? Tributes? Appropriation? Something else? You decide. Those posts can all be reviewed here. 


Note:  Does that cartoon by H. T. Webster look familiar? It's a favorite of mine and I have discussed it on this blog before. Revisit my musings here.



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Thursday, June 30, 2022

Driving in South Dakota: Frank Modell and Don Martin

Frank Modell's cartoon for The New Yorker of November 25, 1950 was a good one, strong enough to be included a quarter century later in The New Yorker Album of Drawings 1925-1975. It can therefore be said to have been somewhat on the radar in the mid-to-late 1970s.

Frank Modell
The New Yorker, November 25, 1950, page 45


Modell may have concluded that Teddy Roosevelt was the funniest President on Mount Rushmore. His decision to mess with TR's facial expression is an interesting one, having the great sculpted head grimacing in reaction to his decapitation and displacement. Compare that with the couple in the car, who appear too stunned even to react.


Don Martin, whether he knew of Modell's cartoon or not, conceived a similar gag for Mad #196 dated January 1978. His challenge with Late One Afternoon in South Dakota is to decide what sort of multi-panel setup will deliver the best payoff. He decides, of all things, on some madcap signage play. 
Don Martin
Original art
Mad #196, January 1978, page 25



So, we are asked to believe that on a mountainside road with no guard rail—at least Modell does give us a guardrail—a highway department vehicle comes screeching to a halt before a convertible that is possibly already braked. The highway worker does not close the road in response to a critically unsafe condition, but instead changes the sign to read something utterly preposterous that we don't really understand until the final panel. This is a Don Martin cartoon, so in reality we probably won't question any of this nonsense. Note how Martin has the driver—and the driver's hat—do the reacting, not the stately Lincoln head. The original art went unsold at Swann Galleries earlier this month for reasons that probably have nothing to do with the missing guard rail.
Don Martin
Full page original art
Mad #196, January 1978, page 25

Don Martin
Swann Galleries Sale 2608, Lot 191, June 9, 2022



I'm certainly not going to declare a winner here, although very likely you can infer my own preference. My guess is that fans of The New Yorker will prefer Modell's cartoon, and that fans of Mad will prefer Martin's, and all's right on Mount Rushmore.

Spot drawing by Thomas Eastwood and cartoon by Frank Modell

Art by Dave—Ahem! David—Berg and Don Martin with marginalia by Sergio Aragonés







Thomas Eastwood



Note:  Who then is the funnier president, Abe Lincoln or Teddy Roosevelt? 



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Tuesday, January 5, 2021

Kenneth Mahood and Ronald Searle: Letter Drop

Kenneth Mahood, who passed away on December 30 at the age of 90, published a great many cartoons in his lifetime and I've been looking at a small number of them in remembrance. His cover for the Punch issue of October 28, 1964 struck me as a somewhat familiar gag set in a library. Specifically, it reminded me of a cartoon by Ronald Searle, who himself passed away on December 30, 2011 at the age of 91. Searle's gag appeared in 1968 in the collection The Square Egg. But where was Searle's drawing first published? The Square Egg collects work from 1961 to 1968, so it's by no means ironclad whose gag made it into print first. Not that it really matters. One cartoonist may or may not have seen the other's work, if he had he may or may not have remembered seeing it, and the two may or may not have come up with these gags independently. Anything's possible . . . 

Kenneth Mahood
Punch, October 28, 1964




Ronald Searle
from The Square Egg (1968)


 

Note:  Nevertheless, if you do know where and when the Searle drawing was first published, it would be useful thing to convey such information to the devotees of this blog.

The Searle dropped letter gag has previously appeared on this blog here.



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Sunday, January 3, 2021

Harry Bliss: Inspired by James Thurber

Harry Bliss's syndicated panel cartoon Bliss for December 11, 2017 seems to take its inspiration from a classic New Yorker gag by James Thurber.





"That's my first wife up there, and this is the present Mrs. Harris."
James Thurber
The New Yorker, March 16, 1935, p. 33



A spot drawing by Maurice Freed (1911-1981) and a cartoon by James Thurber (1894-1961)



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Saturday, January 2, 2021

Harry Bliss: Inspired by Charles Addams

Last week we saw how Harry Bliss's cover art for The New Yorker issue of December 28, 2020 was directly based on a cartoon by Charles Addams that ran in the magazine back on December 27, 1952. Bliss readily acknowledges his debt to Addams, which can also be seen in his daily syndicated panel strip called simply Bliss. The panel for this past Tuesday, December 29, may well have been inspired by Addams's New Yorker cover of May 19, 1975:



Charles Addams
The New Yorker, May 19, 1975





On Halloween day of 2020, the inspiration for the Bliss cartoon was obvious to all with its appropriation of Addams Family characters—but to what end? Addams would never have created a gag like this. It reads, "Apologies to Charles Addams" at the lower left. (By the way, don't try this at home.)


Note:  My post on the December 28, 2020 New Yorker cover is here.



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Friday, December 25, 2020

Mick Stevens: Caveman Redux

Go through the online archive of any New Yorker cartoonist and you'll very likely be impressed by the myriad inventive scenarios and compositions. The variety is simply stunning. It's a surprisingly rare thing when a cartoon closely resembles an earlier one by the same artist, but it does happen. This week, while reading the Cartoon Issue, I felt a spark of recognition. A caveman gag by Mick Stevens put a nice contemporary spin on an old phrase. But at the same time, it made me wonder somewhat incongruously: had I seen it before?

All dressed up and nowhere to go
Mick Stevens
The New Yorker, December 28, 2020, page 25



Well, of course I had not. But what I had seen five years ago was another caveman cartoon by Mick Stevens, one that was just as at home in pre-pandemic times as this week's cartoon is today. Still, it was close enough that I had to check. Sometimes you just have to see them side by side.

Mick Stevens
The New Yorker, December 21, 2015, page 38






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Thursday, December 24, 2020

Charles Addams and Harry Bliss: Fanning the Flames

In the cover for this year’s Cartoon Issue, Harry Bliss pays homage to Charles Addams, whose macabre work routinely appeared in The New Yorker, and whose most famous creation, the Addams Family, has spurred countless adaptations.
Françoise Mouly


And how exactly does one pay homage to Charles Addams? The inspiration for cover artist Harry Bliss is actually a particular Addams cartoon published in The New Yorker on December 27, 1952, that year's Christmas issue.
"The little dears! They still believe in Santa Claus."
Charles Addams
The New Yorker, December 27, 1952, page 23

https://archives.newyorker.com/newyorker/1952-12-27/flipbook/022/


You might recognize some or all of the characters here, but in the years before the 1964 "Addams Family" TV series they were as yet unnamed. Addams's mastery is everywhere in evidence. The primary light source is the fireplace which indicates the main action while the secondary light source behind the sliding doors illuminates the speaker—let's call him Gomez—and two others (no names, please) who are observing the action from a distance. Addams's two-point perspective creates a formidable three dimensional architectural space incorporating many macabre elements. If one were to look at the drawing alone, the atmosphere would be striking but the actions of the children—let's call them Pugsley and Wednesday—might not have a clear purpose. The caption would then serve to totally confound one's expectations. If, on the other hand, one could somehow ignore the drawing and instead read the benign-sounding caption first, it then would be the drawing that would totally subvert the meaning of the words. Either way, it's a treat even sixty-eight years later to see all the workings of a cartoon come together so flawlessly. 

Harry Bliss's cover illustration for this week's issue of The New Yorker is meant to mark both Christmas as well as the New Year. It is also meant to comment on this unique moment in our political history and in the pandemic. It seeks to do all this with a design based on the Addams Family cartoon of December 27, 1952.

Harry Bliss
The New Yorker, December 28, 2020


So, the central satirical idea here, Donald Trump burning his old tax returns with the assistance of his servile, perspiring lawyer Rudy Giuliani, seems almost trivial in relation to the omnipresent political peril in Washington during this most irregular transition. The secondary theme, that of an elderly 2020 being replaced by an infant 2021 in a mask, and which gives this cover the title "In with the New," refers simultaneously to the New Year, to the transition, and to the pandemic. The political figures and the New Year figures don't seem to belong together in that room. Perhaps that garish hanging COVID-19 light fixture is supposed to be a unifying element here. (Compare it with the fine gothic lamp Addams furnished.) There's more, including QAnon conspirators and more rodents than you typically see on a New Yorker cover. In short, there are too many things going on here and while they are in some way interrelated, it's a lot to take in at once and, for me at least, there's no synergy.

And we've seen some of it before. This is the fourth cover published by The New Yorker this year to feature Donald Trump, the tenth to include at least one face mask, the second with a large image of the coronavirus, and the second in a row with a lit fireplace. For what it's worth, it is the first cover with QAnon.


"Greetings, Friends! [1952]" by Frank Sullivan, cartoon by Charles Addams
https://archives.newyorker.com/newyorker/1952-12-27/flipbook/022/

Note:  This Halloween, I posted Joel Jacobus's Charles Addams scrapbook, which included a clipping of the fireplace cartoon. I wonder whether Harry Bliss might have stolen a glimpse at this blog around then. Of course, there are many other places he could have come across the cartoon—in Homebodies (1954), for example—but still I do wonder whether I've had some ever-so-slight sway over the content of a New Yorker cover.

Scrapbook image


This Addams cartoon has been quite influential over the years, it seems. The blog Long Forgotten argues quite plausibly that the drawing influenced the design of the ballroom in Disney's Haunted Mansion attraction. Check it out here.



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Friday, January 25, 2019

Strolling by the Farm: Barbara Shermund and Peter Arno

Cartoonists Peter Arno and Barbara Shermund occasionally found themselves covering more or less the same territory. After the Second World War women gradually started wearing bikinis to the beach and adopting more revealing two-piece summer outfits. It must have been second nature for cartoonists to wonder how such daringly sophisticated summer wear would be greeted down on the farm.

This time it is Shermund who got there first. Her cover for the April 1948 Esquire contrasts not only the rural shepherd with the fashionable woman, it also juxtaposes the older male and the younger female generation. The typical young male Esquire reader would have had no trouble imagining the old man's reaction to the attractive woman walking by even if it weren't so obviously delineated on his face.






















Given the prominence of Esquire's monthly covers, it would be hard to argue that Arno hadn't seen Shermund's cover illustration. Arno's editors at the New Yorker likely must have seen it as well. Arno's New Yorker cover appeared a little more than four years after Shermund's. He doubles down on the passing women but he also backs off a bit, losing the one-on-one intimacy of Shermund's encounter. The three figures seen here are not so much individual personalities as conventionalized types. The farmer is younger than Shermund's, to be sure, but it is his unexpected behavior rather than his wide-eyed smile that makes this gag memorable.

Peter Arno
The New Yorker, August 2, 1952



Amanda Gormley, Barbara Shermund's niece, responds:


In Shermund’s piece the female, strikingly reminiscent to a later photo of Marilyn Monroe, walks independently alone past all manner of living things that stop to take her in. Even the squirrel has stopped chewing on his nut.
In Arno’s cover, the male is the more central figure, clueless to his wandering thresher and the accumulating steam cloud overhead. 
Shermund’s female “owns it” while Arno’s male “is owned.” 
Two very different voices.


Note:  "Tell Me a Story Where the Bad Girl Wins: The Life and Art of Barbara Shermund" is now on view at the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library & Museum. It will remain on exhibit through March 31, 2019.

Instagram posts hashtagged #peterarno may be seen here.

Posts on Instagram with the hashtag #barbarashermund may be reviewed here.

Back in 2011 my very first post on Peter Arno was about the sale of the original cover art seen here. I have since written more than one hundred posts about the artist.


Quick Links to the Attempted Bloggery Archives:

Thursday, January 24, 2019

Saber Arches: Peter Arno and Barbara Shermund

Peter Arno and Barbara Shermund were leading cartoonists of their day. Both of them honed their craft in the pages of the early New Yorker. Both excelled at depicting sexy situations. Occasionally, as it happened, they arrived at similar scenarios. What if we were to compare how two talented cartoonists, one a man and one a woman, handled a given theme?

The saber arch is a military wedding honor practiced around the world. Bride and groom walk in procession under the raised swords of soldiers. Both cartoonists present gags with a backstory in which the bride herself has a history with the soldiers. As one might expect, Arno and Shermund handle the situation quite differently.

We'll start with Peter Arno, not because he's alphabetically first, but because his cartoon appeared in print first, and by a dozen years:
"…Hello, Edmund. Hello, Warwick. Hello, Teddy. Hello, Poodgie. Hello, Kip. Hello, Freddie…"
Peter Arno

The New Yorker, July 25, 1936, page 14

Arno's New Yorker cartoon was well-known, although whether Barbara Shermund recalled it is anybody's guess. Her cartoon appeared in color on the cover of Pictorial Review, a Sunday supplement syndicated by King Features:
"Do you think it's safe? I jilted most of them!"
Barbara Shermund
Pictorial Review (Pittsburgh Sun-Telegraph), June 27, 1948




A critical difference between the two gags is evident. Arno, the male cartoonist, has devised a gag in which the groom is made to feel humiliated by the suggested promiscuity of the bride. Shermund, the female cartoonist, presents a gag which emphasizes the bride's social and even physical discomfort.

Barbara Shermund's niece Amanda Gormley notes:


In Arno's illustration, the groom has clearly been cuckolded and there appears to exist, in the bride's facial expression, [her intention] that he should expect perceived behaviors going forward. The bride is unfettered. 
Conversely, Shermund's bride has "jilted" and renounced her paramours seemingly in favor of her groom. She's less responsible for her beaus' reactions because of her femininity and beauty as she now looks to her groom for protection, something he seems resigned to do.


This pair of cartoons reinforces then how important it is to hear different voices in cartooning. When we do, we are likely to get perspectives which differ from each other, and which differ from our own.




Note:  "Tell Me a Story Where the Bad Girl Wins: The Life and Art of Barbara Shermund" is now on view at the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library & Museum. It will remain on exhibit through March 31, 2019.

Posts on Instagram with the hashtag
#barbarashermund may be seen here.

Instagram posts hashtagged #peterarno may be found here.



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