Tuesday Spill: The Who, What, Where, Why, And When Of New Yorker Cartoons

                       The Who, What, Where, Why, And When Of Cartoons

As anyone knows who comes to this site on a regular basis, it’s no surprise that I find The New Yorker cartoon world ever-present, ever-inspiring, and yeah, even ever-mysterious. The who, what, where, why, and when of The New Yorker cartoon world keeps me, literally, on the edge of my seat (at this very moment I’m on the edge of the seat of my swivel chair). 

Let’s begin with The Who. That would be all of the cartoonists who have contributed to the magazine in its 97 year history.

From Al Frueh (shown here), who had the first cartoon in the first issue, right up to the contributors in this week’s issue. Quite a crew, these nearly 700 contributors. Some remain a mystery to me — their bios lost to time. For instance: what ever happened to D.T. Carlisle who had one drawing in the issue of July 23, 1938, and then never another. Who was D.T. Carlisle? I may never know. Other contributors are so freshly minted — sixteen newbies so far this year, that the Spill has yet to catch up with them (and the others who arrived during the pandemic). The magazine’s nearly 700 contributors (and their work) are at the heart of Ink Spill. The site exists for them and their work. 

As for The What: as in what to draw, or what have others drawn. What has already been drawn can be found in New Yorker cartoon anthologies (sometimes called “Albums”) and in each of The New Yorker‘s issues published from February of 1925 through this week in 2022, as well as individual cartoonist collections. As for what to draw, I’m positive that each cartoonist has their own tale to tell of what they’ve decided to draw. You have to wonder how many cartoonists will, at some point in their work week, take on the desert island. I suppose many of us take it on because it’s there. Perhaps it’s the Mt. Everest of the cartoon scenario.The desert island scenario has not been squeezed dry, and I’m convinced, never will be. Beyond that, “The What” is a mystery (the mystery of what will happen on the page). I’m in the camp that thinks the mystery is what keeps us interested. Speaking only for myself, I don’t think about the mystery too much. I like being surprised. 

The Where: 

Where could apply to where one works. New Yorker artists used to have studios (some still do). When I visited Anatol Kovarsky nearly a decade ago, I loved hearing how he once had a studio with two dedicated areas: one side for his fine art, and the other for his New Yorker work.  In this week’s online piece about J.J. Sempe there’s a photo of Mr. Sempe sitting in Edward Koren’s New Yorker studio (in the 25 West 43rd St offices). In olden times the magazine gave several of its artists space to work at the magazine (Charles Addams and Frank Modell were in that small crowd). Jane Mattimoe’s A Case For Pencils site shows us a number of modern cartoonist work spaces. I’ve always found a table a good place to work, but I’m just as happy working on paper resting on a book resting on the arm of a chair. (photo: Elisabeth McNair at work)

The Why:

Why are cartoonists driven to draw cartoons, and, more specifically, draw them forThe New Yorker? Love of drawing is one answer of course, as is meeting the challenge of creating a successful cartoon. If I could define the lure of The New Yorker itself, I would — it’s yet another mystery with as many answers as there are contributors. I’ve referred to this life a number of times over the years as wacky. I’m sure it seems nonsensical to non-cartoonists to spend time drawing cartoons daily that will likely be rejected, and possibly never see the light of day. I threw out any expectation of sense when I went into this line of work nearly a half century ago. Every bit of it has been and continues to be worth it, and I’m not talking worth as in moolah. 

The When:

You work when you don’t think you are working. One of the wonderful things about this life is the moment the cartoon gods send you a gift out of the blue. When you least expect it, cartoon gold may present itself.

It may happen while you’re washing dishes, or watching a spider cross the floor, or speaking to your guinea pig. You just never know when an idea will show up. There are cartoonists who work at coming up with ideas, who have work hours. My friend, the late great New Yorker cartoonist Jack Ziegler used to say: “Whatever works.”  I’d like to expand on that with, “Whenever works.”