If you’re in the neighborhood here’s a must-see exhibit that includes work by Jules Feiffer, Mick Stevens, Denys Wortman, and Paul Karasik (who is also curating the event). Details on the poster as well as on Featherstone’s website.
With its eye-catching cover reminiscent of the great Peter Arno collections of the 1940s and 1950s, this collection promises to be a must-have addition to any cartoon library (full disclosure: Mr. Bernard has contributed scans of rare book covers to Ink Spill‘s New Yorker Cartoonist Library).
From the publisher’s notes:
Superman, Donald Duck, Mickey Mouse and others helped fight World War II via comic books and strips, single-panel and editorial cartoons, and even ads. Cartoons for Victory showcases wartime work by cartoonists such as Charles Addams (The Addams Family), Harold Gray (Little Orphan Annie), Harvey Kurtzman (Mad magazine), Will Eisner, and many others. Most of the cartoons and comics in this book have not been seen since their first publication. Editor Bernard gathered them over years of unstinting research through private collections and the obscure holdings of public sources. This is the most comprehensive collection ever assembled of World War II–era cartoons, reflecting the indefatigable spirit of the time.
From The Comics Alternative, June 26, 2014, “An Interview with Mick Stevens”
Mr. Stevens, one of the funniest guys on the planet, just finished up a ten week stint as the New Yorker‘s Daily cartoonist. He has been contributing to the magazine since 1978. His cartoon collections include If Ducks Carried Guns, Things Not To Do Today, and I Really Should Be Drawing.
The great illustrator, Edward Sorel is a Society of Illustrators Hall of Fame inductee. Read about it here on the SOI site.
It’s an unusual year, with three New York Times best selling New Yorker cartoonist books out there: Mimi Pond’s graphic memoir, Roz Chast’s graphic memoir and Bob Mankoff’s memoir.
Bob Mankoff, author of How About Never, Is Never Good For You? will be speaking July 13th in Quogue. Details here.
And here’s a link, Ink Spilled a little late, of Roz Chast on “The Charlie Rose” show a few weeks ago. David Remnick, the editor of The New Yorker, fills in for Mr. Rose. You can See Roz’s appearance at the 36:18 mark.
This week’s New Yorker (issue dated June 30, 2014) contains a Postscript written by the magazine’s editor, David Remnick. The piece, spread across the magazine’s gutter, includes four Barsotti drawings. Of Barsotti’s work, Remnick writes (in part):
In his peculiarly enchanted kingdom, any being or object was capable of speech and wit: there were talking noodles, boxes, fruit, squirrels, hammers, and bowling pins. He was astonishingly productive. At the end, there were many dozens of drawings available to us, and while we will miss him, we will be publishing Charley Barsotti for a long time to come.
Note: no link to the full piece as it is available in print or online by subscription only)
A reminder that Lee Lorenz, The New Yorker‘s Art Editor from 1973 through 1993 and its Cartoon Editor from 1993 through 1997 will be “in conversation” with me tomorrow at The Westport Historical Society @ 4:00. Information here.
Mr. Lorenz is a long-time contributor to New Yorker — his cartoons have been appearing in the magazine since 1958.
From The Westport News, “Former New Yorker Art Editor to speak in Westport”
Mick Stevens has announced on his website that today’s New Yorker Daily Cartoon (left) is his last. In the post, “Back to the Batch,” Stevens says, “What I thought would be a 3 to 4 week gig turned out to last 10.” The Daily has been handled by a number of cartoonists since its recent inception, including Danny Shanahan, David Sipress, Barbara Smaller, Paul Noth, Mike Twohy, and Tom Toro. No word yet on whose turn is next.
From The Washington Post, June 18, 2014, “Charles Barsotti, New Yorker Cartoonist known for his simplicity, dies at 80″
From Michael Cavna’s Washington Post blog, Comic Riffs, “RIP Charles Barsotti: New Yorker Artist was ‘master cartoonist, a true original, and a nice guy, to boot.’”
Jack Ziegler and Charles Barsotti made up the entire Kansas wing of the New Yorker until Charley passed away last night. I asked Jack if he’d care to share a few thoughts on Charley, and here is what he had to say:
A friend of mine and I had dinner with Charley Barsotti and his wife Rae this past April 18th. It was a lovely, summery evening, sun going down, out on the patio at Aixois, a little French restaurant about a block or so down the hill from their house in Kansas City. It was the last time we saw each other. A week after that I got a call from Rae saying that they’d just come back from his doctor who told them that at that point the medical professionals had done all they could for Charley. It would be a matter of weeks.
At our dinner, Charley and Rae had looked even nattier than their usual selves, all dolled up like they were about to jump on line at an Easter Parade. Over the past four years, after I’d moved to the KC area from Connecticut, we would get together fairly often for either lunch or dinner and I’m sure Charley used to cringe at some of the outfits I would appear in – shorts & sandals if the temperature was anywhere near 80 degrees, levis at all other times of year. Charley was always properly coifed, pressed and cuffed. I always felt that if he’d had a pair of spats, he would have worn them. Next to him I looked like a bum. But Chas. never rolled his eyes, nor did he try to hide behind his napkin or crawl under the table. I eventually learned to dress a little better, a little more KC-style, whenever I’d make the trek in from Lawrence, KS, to lunch.
At that final dinner, he was frail, much thinner, and walking with a cane, but his spirits seemed as high as ever. We talked about The New Yorker because we always talked about The New Yorker – and also the crappy, deteriorating state of the world because that was always a big concern for Charley who had a great sense of what was right and a great befuddlement of what always seemed to be so impossibly wrong. And, as usual, we laughed a lot. At one point Charley speared a piece of potato or something with his fork and Rae told him he wasn’t supposed to eat that, given the strict palliative diet he was now on. He popped it into his mouth anyway and enjoyed this little defiant poke at his illness, as did we all because – yeah – it was the right thing to do.
Charley’s drawings were (are) beautiful, elegant, simple, smart, thoughtful, funny, fun, and silly. I think he might have liked that last adjective best. As my friend Dewey, who had never met him before that night, said as we were driving back to Lawrence, “What a lovely man.”