tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12368133645633757702024-03-19T01:48:45.941-07:00Celestia's Caricature Blog: My Lofty OpinionsMusings on the caricature industry, the people I meet along the way, and other random tidbits. I have been drawing since childhood, earning money from it since 1992, and am the louder half of Two Heads Studios. CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-6358503464275822392016-11-13T02:47:00.000-08:002016-11-14T10:22:19.444-08:00Sardi's: Past, Present, and a Drift toward Homeopathic CaricatureHey kids, been a while since I posted. But this is a long one, so strap in and get some hot cocoa.<br><div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDbn6mvg9iGN7mj6por9oax2GQr6065iFKdEkxBaplU6ZvRG55iBacYuPfac8AgT0-1_Mqs0F3RZRnBoOPory5mmQOn-6a5T7c0jz1VkTt6wGb7q5T7Qlu1FjfmL-X-cuhoscl3FFogyf9/s1600/Sardi%2527sFront.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDbn6mvg9iGN7mj6por9oax2GQr6065iFKdEkxBaplU6ZvRG55iBacYuPfac8AgT0-1_Mqs0F3RZRnBoOPory5mmQOn-6a5T7c0jz1VkTt6wGb7q5T7Qlu1FjfmL-X-cuhoscl3FFogyf9/s1600/Sardi%2527sFront.jpg"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sardi's sits at 234 West 44th Street, NY NY</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br></td></tr></tbody></table><br></div><div>Back in June of this year, I got to tromp around NYC and, while I was there, I dropped in at the world-famous Sardi's, an old hangout for Al Hirschfeld, the birthplace of the Tony Awards, and hallowed ground for any caricature artist or lover of Broadway shows (I am both). And, owing to my plan-ahead-and-do-things-thoroughly-or-not-at-all philosophy, I emailed ahead and greased some wheels in order to speak to some Sardi's staff, have dinner there, and also visit the archived Sardi's drawings at the New York Public Library. I dug into some research, bought the book on Sardi's (<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Off-Wall-Sardis-Vincent-Sardi/dp/1557830517/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1478986341&sr=8-1&keywords=SArdi%27s"><i>Off the Wall at Sardi's</i></a>, by Vincent Sardi, Jr., and Thomas West, Amarna, 1991 & 2012), and recorded a long interview with Ivan Lesica, the Maitre D' there, in an effort to really understand the evolution of Sardi's. I'd bitten off a lot and had plenty to chew on, yet I was torn about how to share all this. It would have made a fun podcast or article for Exaggerated Features, but nothing came together. Finally, I decided to bang this out on the day before the ISCA convention, simply because I felt others might enjoy knowing some of the stuff I found out. And because sleep and I are mortal enemies.</div><div> <br><h2><span style="font-size: large;">Sardi's Heyday and the NYC Public Library Collection</span></h2><br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbnR1_i3lLIj2Vo9mCtSIaULVufOP2zpx9I9adtNdiJ0k7xNjHEinuzH8Ogv3KtF_Og-vQcVLoLZ3I7VnOl2VQJE5Co3aZdPo60L-HOreV-EbB1JXbltDMihWYouR2qYtW-X7RCY09yBj/s1600/NYPL-box.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbnR1_i3lLIj2Vo9mCtSIaULVufOP2zpx9I9adtNdiJ0k7xNjHEinuzH8Ogv3KtF_Og-vQcVLoLZ3I7VnOl2VQJE5Co3aZdPo60L-HOreV-EbB1JXbltDMihWYouR2qYtW-X7RCY09yBj/s200/NYPL-box.JPG" width="200"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really, it's okay if I touch this? Well then . . .</td></tr></tbody></table> Anyone my age and older knows the feel of a good, solid library; we remember life and research BG (before Google), when card catalog drawers were picked over and the Dewey Decimal System was your friend--your bizarre, dyslexic friend who made no sense but was still your friend because he knew where stuff was kept. So I was delighted to head over to the Billy Rose Theater Division of the New York Public Library and make arrangements with special collections to pore over the caricatures held there. Yeah, turns out ANY OLD NUTTER CAN JUST WALK IN AND GET A LIBRARY CARD AND GET THEIR FILTHY PAWS ON BOXES UPON BOXES OF THESE PRICELESS CLASSIC WORKS OF ART! FOR FREE!! Who knew?<br><div style="text-align: right;"></div><br><div style="text-align: right;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF5_JEabum65mHQrR9Ehr7rTaPNEqF_Fau8ZLLdji1UlkEpT90Wq9GeQ_d-MY1J0yRuCPlTCClLjUdQd79hZuqTwnjHCiAWrE3hRSWTYIG9VJq8UewQfFAF2rC59HBgCMS1xE5wK1SL8Xy/s1600/Me-at-NYPL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF5_JEabum65mHQrR9Ehr7rTaPNEqF_Fau8ZLLdji1UlkEpT90Wq9GeQ_d-MY1J0yRuCPlTCClLjUdQd79hZuqTwnjHCiAWrE3hRSWTYIG9VJq8UewQfFAF2rC59HBgCMS1xE5wK1SL8Xy/s400/Me-at-NYPL.jpg" width="300"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My face when handling stuff only adults should touch.</td></tr></tbody></table> A couple of very helpful librarians walked me through procedures: You enter kind of an academic "quarantine zone" where you are not allowed to bring in books or bags or such of your own. Yellow paper and golf pencils are made available to take notes, and cameras are allowed (as are cell phones). I and a few rows of other researchers waited for our materials to be brought up, then we sat and pieced through our treasures under the watchful eye of the curator, behind her desk at the front of the room. Some collections require the viewer to wear white gloves for the protection of the artifact--I urged the librarian to give me the gloves, so my finger oils would not tarnish the artwork, but she just looked over the record and told me to handle them by the edges please. I took care and handled each piece carefully, reading the inscriptions scrawled on decades ago by Broadway luminaries who expressed their feelings about being flattered, gutted, or simply fed at the establishment of Vincent Sardi, Sr. After six hours, I left with fifty or sixty photos and a list for the curator of pieces that were missing from the boxes--hopefully they will be found, but Sardi's does have a reputation for artwork walking away mysteriously. <br><br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxFgSkzRRuiCnJCiJsfLnInuSSiUrCqazQ0anjnu5zi-HrxnjK-37iAIQXk4W1i-tWkV1PWmeoSu0EYO9MHDzFROrpHJA7MXcwqJEwat8FliUlcIj9piJETUgvisJ_6_CE3eq5i5dS82JN/s1600/Garde-foursome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxFgSkzRRuiCnJCiJsfLnInuSSiUrCqazQ0anjnu5zi-HrxnjK-37iAIQXk4W1i-tWkV1PWmeoSu0EYO9MHDzFROrpHJA7MXcwqJEwat8FliUlcIj9piJETUgvisJ_6_CE3eq5i5dS82JN/s400/Garde-foursome.jpg" width="322"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Four of Alex Gard's victims.</td></tr></tbody></table> The personality of these characters really does seem to shine through, and with my (albeit limited) knowledge and experience in the craft, I swear I could pick out little moments of the artwork being made. Sardi's first artist, Alex Gard, was a Russian refugee who agreed to draw patrons there in exchange for two meals a day. [Note: Wikipedia's entry on Gard states the contract was for one meal a day, but the book and the Maitre D' both told me it was two]. And he was clearly drawing his subjects from life, not from publicity photos. It looks like he sat with them, at a booth or table, and sketched these out while chatting, observing their demeanor, posture, and their dignity (or lack thereof). Many of these early caricatures are profiles, some contain quite a bit of the body, enough to show body language, while some are simplistic . . . but nearly all of them have more bite than polish. The patrons bit back, here and there--when they autographed their picture (as was the rule: no caricature went on the wall unless the artist and subject had both signed it), quite a few celebrities wrote a line or two praising, teasing, or making a pun of their artist's name. <i>Gard have mercy! En Gard! Praise be to Gard! Only Gard can make a Tree! </i>(that last one was scrawled lovingly by Lady Viola Tree). It was clear these folks had formed a rapport with Alex Gard, who obviously would have been a staple in the restaurant if he was eating his requisite two meals a day there. <br><br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmqhTQkgrGJfigN9y4qmy_Kr-3me-9z5cM70ti8aQ3kveOf6muCdWyntfmuCCinniPpjaH-yq-adtdVHFF_2ahqhcp8sUX5_HUmMdxJMJgxAdWInQVSAUsSFaRgF5qhT1fjr0jO2-9ze_1/s1600/Gard5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmqhTQkgrGJfigN9y4qmy_Kr-3me-9z5cM70ti8aQ3kveOf6muCdWyntfmuCCinniPpjaH-yq-adtdVHFF_2ahqhcp8sUX5_HUmMdxJMJgxAdWInQVSAUsSFaRgF5qhT1fjr0jO2-9ze_1/s320/Gard5.jpg" width="274"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gard's drawing of theater critic Ward Morehouse.</td></tr></tbody></table> According to the book, and to Sardi's legend, Gard and Sardi had a formal agreement: Sardi was not allowed to complain about the caricatures, and Gard was not allowed to complain about the food. Talk about a recipe for some great, loose, fun artwork: no rules, no prescriptions or proscriptions of how the drawing should look, and that all-important relationship with the subject. With the right rapport, a stroke of the pen that might offend instead becomes a stroke of truth that all can find humor in. But a personal "relationship" can swing both ways: once when the head of the New York Stock Exchange came in and asked to be put on the wall, Gard told the man to his face "You I wouldn't draw for ten thousand dollars" (Sardi & West, p. 23). I found it interesting that the true insult in that day and age, rather than being drawn too harshly, was <i>not </i>being drawn. <br><br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjYR8Tlc3YZYZoxEfiMBUZxtYHbxOV2-w1jHVzFvzvpoOdkwWKxBcRsm-he9CkF6TshjCRMXAwB70g4chISqkzFFFuXo0KC0t70v4BHe416V0a9P_IdT-EtPx6tLuNFWwatmP7NI2j0L7/s1600/BobHope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjYR8Tlc3YZYZoxEfiMBUZxtYHbxOV2-w1jHVzFvzvpoOdkwWKxBcRsm-he9CkF6TshjCRMXAwB70g4chISqkzFFFuXo0KC0t70v4BHe416V0a9P_IdT-EtPx6tLuNFWwatmP7NI2j0L7/s320/BobHope.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mackey's Bob Hope has his eye on you.</td></tr></tbody></table> I'll not spend too much time running down the history of each artist, but suffice it to say that Gard was the Sardi's artist from 1926 until his death in 1948, and he created more than 700 caricatures for the restaurant. Sardi asked Al Hirschfeld to take over (the two were good friends, and I spotted a drawing of Al done by Don Bevan on the second floor), but "Al worked on a scale that looked right for the Times, and his style was really suited to black-and-white" (Sardi and West, p. 70) Vincent Sardi wanted all the work in his restaurant to be colorful. John Mackey took over for a while, but before too long he and Sardi parted ways--according to Sardi, Mackey drank a bit too much. Before his departure, he managed to draw major figures like Henry Fonda, Ethel Merman, Bob Hope, and Alec Guinness among others. The Mackey drawings up at Sardi's <i>Off the Wall</i> show skill but are definitely not quite consistent. The Bob Hope is beguiling in its impish side-stare, but a few others (like Arthur Miller and Alec Guiness) look like an entirely different artist did them. Perhaps Mackey's style depended on his blood alcohol level? <br><br><br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTM0CXyfbSJYUZkJMcFCrVjSZJd-g8TOgzB-PMku926EMjWH_LbWKrjpUpaSxN6uJpWkwuSUDJvsotIrYmeV11MA5L9DVRsTuE85JNdx7VFaOkWbk4bMaQ4Ysndx2Rj4NLdchYYSdz8ET5/s1600/BevanGroup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTM0CXyfbSJYUZkJMcFCrVjSZJd-g8TOgzB-PMku926EMjWH_LbWKrjpUpaSxN6uJpWkwuSUDJvsotIrYmeV11MA5L9DVRsTuE85JNdx7VFaOkWbk4bMaQ4Ysndx2Rj4NLdchYYSdz8ET5/s320/BevanGroup.jpg" width="285"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorgeous shapes and color in Bevan's work.</td></tr></tbody></table> Don Bevan, Sardi's next official artist, is credited in <i>Off the Wall</i> as having drawn caricatures of his fellow detainees after being shot down over Nazi Germany while serving as a gunner in 1943. He later sent some of the drawings to the families of his fellow prisoners, which alarmed some of the mothers, who thought that Don's exaggerated drawings reflected their sons' actual condition! (Sardi and West, p. 77). After his time in World War II, Bevan came to the job after a stint cartooning with the Baltimore Sun and a few forays into theater work himself. His caricatures have a softer feel to them, most relying on colored lines instead of a harsher black line drawing--but his shapes are solid, and his punches are not pulled, not even for the ladies. His graphic style reminds me of a less abstract David Cowles, with elegant shapes and blocks of color, very little crosshatching.<br><br> Bevan drew for Sardi's until he retired in 1974, at which time a contest was held and a young student named Richard Baratz won the honor with his rendition of the inimitable Bette Midler. And, according to both Mr. Lesica and <i>Off the Wall</i>, the Divine Miss M was not pleased with it and refused to sign the thing. Sardi sums up his reaction to this beautifully, in a quote I think all caricaturists should have tattooed upon their person: "Not that I was after another Gard, but<i> it takes a really good caricaturist to offend his subject</i>. After all, for an actor, having your caricature done is like a bad review from a critic; asking an actor what he thinks about critics is like asking a fire hydrant what it thinks about dogs" (Sardi and West, p. 108, emphasis mine). It made me a little sad to know that Midler was soon redrawn so that her caricature was more to her liking. <br><br> Richard Baratz holds his post until this day, though sources are split on exactly how long he's been Sardi's caricature artist (Sardi's website bio states 29 years, but 1974 to present would be 42 years) or even if he is the "sole caricature artist" as the website also claims. There are quite a few pieces on the walls by Marilyn Church, done in the early 1990s, though she is not mentioned in the <i>Off the Wall</i> book, nor is she found on any online sources that list the official artists of Sardi's, and Ivan could not remember exactly how she came to lend her talents to the restaurant. The evidence is hanging plainly on the wall, however, and I salute you, silent lady among the caricature gents of the ages! <br><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisZagQZiTsc1j4US-KS4HuRyKHj9dm3a_Z5OvKuuVOIUJyt85EbsWIO-xc8c-2fSw3k5hJWcKzAvXhJRN6lXYjQC3mRYfVRlK7jBU1LhGyDMfNXPV6VOSaYKNc_WGwGVLoLrKS08B2fpLu/s1600/BaratzCloseup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisZagQZiTsc1j4US-KS4HuRyKHj9dm3a_Z5OvKuuVOIUJyt85EbsWIO-xc8c-2fSw3k5hJWcKzAvXhJRN6lXYjQC3mRYfVRlK7jBU1LhGyDMfNXPV6VOSaYKNc_WGwGVLoLrKS08B2fpLu/s640/BaratzCloseup.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baratz's engraving influence can be seen in the elegant crosshatching he has applied to Tom Wopat's neck and the faces of Jesse Tyler Ferguson and Yul Brenner.</td></tr></tbody></table><br> Baratz's evolving style is something you can track on the wall . . . he has done over 900 caricatures for the place and counting. There are some real gems among his earlier caricatures, while his later work shows the intricate and painstaking workmanship one would expect from someone in Baratz's "day job" of engraver at the U.S. Treasury. Looking closely reveals delicate crosshatching, evenly spaced and arranged to create tone and mass. His drawings seem to have become less loose over the years, but there is a consistency that reigns throughout. Sure, he missed on likeness here and there, but there are some very solid hits. And the misses weren't due to swinging hard and pounding the ball foul--the misses were due to pulling the bat in and trying to bunt, safely, until the ball just didn't go very far. I found myself wondering as I stared at a few of the drawings, "How much of the pull back on that was Baratz, and how much was the effect of outside forces?" I doubt I'll ever know. But remember, this was the kid who had impressed Vincent Sardi because<i> he could offend his subject.</i> <br><br> <br><h2>Current Views on Sardi's and Homeopathic Caricature</h2><br> Now, we all live in our own bubbles these days, right? So be aware that what follows is what I've experienced in my bubble. I share my bubble with a few hundred caricature artists who work all over the world, and some knowledgeable fans and historians of caricature, so it's at least a sampling of opinion among folks in the industry. <br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivQ_e5kaAA6TYej7GRhxhCPM7NLuJjIsQRG_sjdaim2-_HbS3w4RPPbJj_JEnCqc-BFvDz5AkrFZdJMYwoITk1Ctx7eY1hsW5steK8DonfbZ3ZaU6gDUw8llFRfGIVSTElIA5dKkrhun9G/s1600/Sardi%2527s-Cranston.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivQ_e5kaAA6TYej7GRhxhCPM7NLuJjIsQRG_sjdaim2-_HbS3w4RPPbJj_JEnCqc-BFvDz5AkrFZdJMYwoITk1Ctx7eY1hsW5steK8DonfbZ3ZaU6gDUw8llFRfGIVSTElIA5dKkrhun9G/s320/Sardi%2527s-Cranston.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Where'd my crags go?" asks Brian Cranston (perhaps).</td></tr></tbody></table><br><div style="text-align: left;"></div> Perhaps because of Sardi's long, storied history, many artists today hold the place to a high standard when it comes to what goes on the walls (or around social media). Release parties for new caricature unveilings are now spread around online, and some artists have certainly made their opinions known about the lack of "bite" many of the newer pieces seem to have. What seems to be happening, in my observation is a slow dilution of the art form--which, I hasten to point out, is very likely not the fault of <a href="http://www.sardis.com/pcgi-bin/ccp5/cp-app.cgi?pg=ste_barataz">Richard Baratz</a>. It's nostalgic and naive to think that any artist working today might have the same freedom as Alex Gard, who was working in what was then a very low-stakes environment with a no-complaints clause in his supposed verbal contract. Now, however, we live in a day and age of artsy filters instantly applied to digital photos, washed-out lighting that makes 50-year-olds look as smooth as they were when they were at 25, and of course, the customer-is-always-right approach to almost everything, including things a customer is often wrong about (like their own appearance). <br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEfK0V4asZPV8CJsIwvSsnf1IY8okxA658KsW7c9rY62pdy4npVi8ctIeOhJCkbOGTBSOzSxJoxjfJuMI8Z4Npk_rzoCucz1OOg8WNSSd2G_i0vrQCv2o2jciDmtzRiOzOKoQf0H7Fc1nU/s1600/Sardis-Krakowski.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEfK0V4asZPV8CJsIwvSsnf1IY8okxA658KsW7c9rY62pdy4npVi8ctIeOhJCkbOGTBSOzSxJoxjfJuMI8Z4Npk_rzoCucz1OOg8WNSSd2G_i0vrQCv2o2jciDmtzRiOzOKoQf0H7Fc1nU/s400/Sardis-Krakowski.jpg" width="400"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'd like to see the source photo--it had to be an odd angle.</td></tr></tbody></table><br> You need only work one birthday party as a professional caricature artist to see that people can be touchy about their face . . . and if you have an art director (or owner of a restaurant) in charge of making sure no celebrities get rubbed the wrong way, well, it's a foregone conclusion that the direction things will drift naturally is toward a more dilute, "nice" approach to the caricatures. (Are they still caricatures past a certain point? More on that later. )<br><br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkpmsMBom9qjLS2-XU_a9JJK-NVe3qe3eBhaSyaXojQ8efVvcGhzVSJCm7lYK8gFwpTaaw7s1b7nIemWmRQiioTuO1okdaPo069-MpUEEOfwHdUvrqYRrHv9aA6Ag0EOCDeH9AvMs_Hw1v/s1600/Sardis-Moss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkpmsMBom9qjLS2-XU_a9JJK-NVe3qe3eBhaSyaXojQ8efVvcGhzVSJCm7lYK8gFwpTaaw7s1b7nIemWmRQiioTuO1okdaPo069-MpUEEOfwHdUvrqYRrHv9aA6Ag0EOCDeH9AvMs_Hw1v/s320/Sardis-Moss.jpg" width="314"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elisabeth Moss has delightful features to caricature . . . someday.</td></tr></tbody></table>I have come to think of it as homeopathic caricature. Homeopathy is the misunderstood snake oil--um, I mean <i>alternative medicine</i>--that is sold widely in pharmacies and drug stores as a curative but actually contains nothing of substance. Developed in the late 18th century by Samuel Hahnemann, homeopathy is based on the (totally wrong) principle that the more dilute a substance, the stronger effect it will have. If garlic or duck liver or Himalayan salt will act as a curative for some condition, then watering that ingredient down will make it <i>even better</i>. It's a philosophy one would never want from one's bartender, but for some reason people fall for it when it comes to their health. Homeopaths take this dilution prerogative to absurd lengths, emptying out a vessel and refilling it with pure water dozens or hundreds of times so that it's statistically improbable that even one molecule of the garlic, or duck liver, or salt remains in the finished product. And customers pay for water (well, water put into sugar tablets)--and they do so happily and eagerly, thinking that since it has no harsh elements it will not harm them and they can enjoy a placebo effect at least. Are you still with me through that long metaphor? Watering down might make things seem more palatable, but it kills the effectiveness--both of medicine and of caricature.<br><div><br></div><br><div><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ltYrLMSJeYc/WCoA1wv0i3I/AAAAAAAACHc/jEw72k8mFFY/I/photo_614703.jpg" border="0" class="bloggoimg"></div><br><br> <br> <br> While the smoothed-out, very lightly treated faces of Cranston, Krakowski, and Moss certainly contain more than a molecule of likeness, they ring as watered-down rather than concentrated. And concentration of what makes a face unique has always been the raison d'etre of caricature. The old guard (no pun intended) of Gard, Hirschfeld, and Covarrubias were pumping out strong, intense caricatures that were boiled down to capture a person sometimes using just a few lines.<br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxmeUSqFmzkd33XR70xud5yKsrrAeXcFTCZUxGLsxkpuZCC6YQXKA4n4VBXLLCVstcZ22TJeG8PcoCPF2o9dZgluInx6gpyUKWZ7Gcyjtm0kVt3PBECGsO_PwVxBH_Srj43zyHa2sq1unL/s1600/Baratz-Donny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxmeUSqFmzkd33XR70xud5yKsrrAeXcFTCZUxGLsxkpuZCC6YQXKA4n4VBXLLCVstcZ22TJeG8PcoCPF2o9dZgluInx6gpyUKWZ7Gcyjtm0kVt3PBECGsO_PwVxBH_Srj43zyHa2sq1unL/s320/Baratz-Donny.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at how bland! Oh wait, it's the Osmonds. Nevermind.</td></tr></tbody></table><br> Trawling around the net, I found that professional caricature artists weren't the only ones bristling about the homeopathic dilution of caricature in the hallowed halls of Sardi's these days. On a thread at <a href="http://www.broadwayworld.com/venezuela/board/readmessage.php?thread=1075720&page=1#">BroadwayWorld.com</a>, I found a string of comments from regular non-artist Broadway fans who also seemed to miss the spicier variety of caricature. (Apologies to Mr. Baratz if you are reading this, but every Broadway actor has had to deal with bad reviews, so I'm going to go ahead and quote a few, warts and all--and I'm only sampling a small bit of what's there, these Broadway fans even mention that it's a topic that has come up a lot):<br><br><i>"The recent ones have all been so dreadful! I'm genuinely shocked that nobody has complained to them, and that they themselves haven't noticed the dreadful quality of the work. I feel genuinely bad for all the actors who have to stand in front of photographers pretend like their portrait is good."</i><br><i><br></i><font face="-webkit-standard"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><i>"After viewing some of the most recent Sardi's Caricatures, especially Neil Patrick Harris, is it me, or are they not very good? Whenever I see an artist doing caricatures on the street, I tend to notice what they have drawn vs their model. Most, if not all have a very good likeness. I had one done several years ago, at Universal Studios Hollywood, which is extremely good. I just don't see the same likeness with the 'professional.'"</i><br></span></font><i><br></i><i>"WOW that's a lousy likeness."</i><br><i><br></i><i>"The current artist is seems to think that everybody's noses are smaller than they are. Maybe it's a stylistic choice? If so, it's a bad one."</i><br><br><i>"All of the recent caricatures have been disgracefully bad."</i><br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1xdL8nCUlFdjVOOgeX9HYaYCKXlvMGNb05t4jrKOTfHBxki_fFfsU6s_DR52j2o_Q6OIDYch7HvWbv_h-W6h3kA_buLR5rHntyevosZM6UQdZ6SIKkKuYQ-V1lVv_y3f7I7n3A4KnO89-/s1600/Norm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1xdL8nCUlFdjVOOgeX9HYaYCKXlvMGNb05t4jrKOTfHBxki_fFfsU6s_DR52j2o_Q6OIDYch7HvWbv_h-W6h3kA_buLR5rHntyevosZM6UQdZ6SIKkKuYQ-V1lVv_y3f7I7n3A4KnO89-/s320/Norm.jpg" width="320"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wait, Norm Lewis is black?</td></tr></tbody></table><br><i>"I've never been to Sardi's, do the portraits have a little description saying who it's supposed to be? Or is it some sad game of 'Guess Who?' that no one ever wins?" </i><br><i></i><br><br><i>"Elizabeth Moss holding a caricature of Nicole Kidman."</i> <br><i><br></i><i>"Amen! They aren't caricatures OR portraits. If the artist isn't going to do the exaggerated caricature style, at least draw something that actually looks like the person."</i><br><br><i>"I guess no one told them that Norm Lewis is black!" </i><i><br></i><br><br> Even these non-artist commenters (I assume they were non-artists, with names like "NJBroadwayGirl" and "TheaterGuy") were pointing out what seasoned caricaturists on other forums had complained of: features that might possibly be interpreted as "offensive" (noses, darker skin tones, wrinkles of any kind) were whitewashed out or understated to the point of losing a likeness. I wanted to ask Sardi's about this trend, and whether scaling back exaggeration was something ordered by the celebrities, by publicists, by the owner of the restaurant himself, or whether the drift just started happening naturally as Baratz drew for them year after year while also working as an engraver. <br><br><br><h2>Sardi's Visit</h2><br> The front canopy with its art deco aesthetic beckons you in like you're a resident of the City, it's upscale but downbeat, chic but shabby, very mid-town. I'll dispense with the food review since no one ever goes there for the food. A few caricatures are visible in the front windows (these get rotated around frequently, they tell me), and upon entering you see many more in the little bar to the left and a coatroom area to the right.<br><br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3XelbvQhClLLCVewYc8RIMtyH_sbRAbYPer0gWgVmTyTVshNQvb1ZNMUOBkLoatK8PJR99XJqFfk1BdOzUvYkazGj0IMKQeVAhmFQaEOw5UfQ0wN-DdJlTtwFP7EEZa7izxD412lYQxi/s1600/Greenbook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3XelbvQhClLLCVewYc8RIMtyH_sbRAbYPer0gWgVmTyTVshNQvb1ZNMUOBkLoatK8PJR99XJqFfk1BdOzUvYkazGj0IMKQeVAhmFQaEOw5UfQ0wN-DdJlTtwFP7EEZa7izxD412lYQxi/s200/Greenbook.jpg" width="150"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The secret key to finding faces!</td></tr></tbody></table> In that coatroom I was greeted by a surprise--one that took me a while to process. Overwhelmed by the sheer array of caricatures everywhere, I blankly looked at the coat-check girl (who looked familiar, but in my line of work EVERYONE starts looking a little familiar, so you kind of block it out after a while) and asked about my appointment with the public relations person there. While I waited, the young lady answered some questions and showed me the big green folder they use to track where each caricature is in the building (with multiple floors and little alcoves, it takes some organizational effort to make sure patrons wishing to find their favorite celebrity can be pointed there quickly). <br><br> Then after we'd spent a few more minutes together, the young lady helping me says "I know where I know you from now! YOU WENT TO AUSTRALIA!"<br><br> Holy cripes, it all hit me . . . she was a little older now, but four years ago she was a new high school graduate who went on a group tour in Australia with her grandmother, and I was one of the thirty-odd people who was on that trip. Madeline! We had ridden camels together and she'd been prone to breaking out into showtunes--so how fitting that she had ended up working on Broadway so soon. Good for her! We were delighted at this bit of evidence that the world can be a small place sometimes.<br><br><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-bOnBVkGi-L0gSVmmghpHZz869zyYWWRKGOifKt6Z3DMxk71olJxY6jEce4TCqrc4NcJlDENZucXFcysYE0LSqsYpveSeSgtMCbSB2PyuGsCFwvYq95axG61TwtEHOZ9gFUpSHzVhAC2/s1600/Before-after.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-bOnBVkGi-L0gSVmmghpHZz869zyYWWRKGOifKt6Z3DMxk71olJxY6jEce4TCqrc4NcJlDENZucXFcysYE0LSqsYpveSeSgtMCbSB2PyuGsCFwvYq95axG61TwtEHOZ9gFUpSHzVhAC2/s640/Before-after.jpg" width="640"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PHOTOGRAPHIC PROOF, y'all! On the left, back in 2012 on some godforsaken camel farm in the Outback, and then almost exactly four years later, on West 44th Street.</td></tr></tbody></table><br> After our little reunion, I was passed off to Ivan Lesica, who was a very charming and patient man with the grace of a seasoned host. He answered all my questions and even got a kick out of some of the new things he learned as I shared with him a few things gathered from my trip to the library. Ivan has been working at Sardi's for 23 years now, and he certainly had seen many a star come through the place. He kindly let me record our talk, and I took up nearly an hour of his time.<br><br> Our full interview might be available soon, maybe I'll find a place to host it or offer it as podcast fodder for Ali or Cory's caricature podcast endeavors. But for now I'll go over some of the main things that struck me as we chatted.<br><br> One of the first questions I had was I asked Ivan what his definition of a caricature was. His immediate response was that it was similar to a star on the walk of fame, "definitely a tribute." I nudged him and said it was interesting that he didn't think of likeness or exaggeration first. He said "Not anymore . . . Oh, back in the day [there] used to be caricatures that exaggerated the features and everything . . . but now it's more like a cartoon portrait, and basically the honor of being on the wall and joining all these famous, incredible artists."<br><br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitSsA7qnJV2FG9aCLLMaWa6lPQIPEdnrOBFmzVay6Sjfbhpq5orvAz_Xxbxkq7AydvxeIWYUGcEI7lIs20PgZbeDKHYBhazdub7QT1GX1MPMTgyIYTiby8akI4JAL1dMZKRagJzufYoHkF/s1600/Church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitSsA7qnJV2FG9aCLLMaWa6lPQIPEdnrOBFmzVay6Sjfbhpq5orvAz_Xxbxkq7AydvxeIWYUGcEI7lIs20PgZbeDKHYBhazdub7QT1GX1MPMTgyIYTiby8akI4JAL1dMZKRagJzufYoHkF/s320/Church.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marilyn Church's Charlton Heston.</td></tr></tbody></table> As to the mysterious Marilyn Church, Ivan recalled that she did some caricatures in the 90s, but wasn't clear on why or how long she worked with the establishment. Her Charlton Heston and Nathan Lane (among a few others) stand out as a more loose, painterly style. <br><br> Ivan told me of something of the release parties for new caricatures and how the performer is invited, along with family and crew members, to a special private celebration on the top floor. He had no memory of anyone being really upset with their likeness in recent times, though he said one or two actors had been very very nervous wondering what to expect but ended up pleasantly surprised that in the drawing the feature they were worried about had been toned down--nose reduced, etc. "Like plastic surgery?" I asked. "Yes!" he said, they were so happy to see that. I was wincing a little as he recounted the story . . . for some that's a happy narrative, but to a caricature artist it's a slow exsanguination of what I love about this craft.<br><br> He continued on, saying that the days of Broadway stars throwing epic tantrums in Sardi's over their caricatures are definitely over . . . which I kind of felt was a pity, as I'd read so many exciting accounts of that very thing in the Off the Wall book. It was almost like Vincent Sardi, Sr., had been a pioneer in the same sort of shock value and celebrity gawking we see in reality TV today: he very deftly poked at the egos of the day an there were regular instances of hissy fits, dramatic accounts of ripping art off the walls, and the odd prima donna refusing to come back to the place until she was placated in some way. But that's all in the past. Nowadays, Sardi's wanted to make sure there were no sore feelings. "We're happy, they're happy, everybody's happy."<br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoOnqlYgbL3kYK_XLMGaAmbHYFBQtRzmyS9wFveVwMHfmsIQ4hEmY2-rNEIg23sdURjHzIjaNHxsy6zkKaiobe8Y5ozMFAJG3RHxeycP209se7d4kGIURZvXJsGilkF1yzHnVEhyphenhyphenJAA2Vw/s1600/Hopkins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoOnqlYgbL3kYK_XLMGaAmbHYFBQtRzmyS9wFveVwMHfmsIQ4hEmY2-rNEIg23sdURjHzIjaNHxsy6zkKaiobe8Y5ozMFAJG3RHxeycP209se7d4kGIURZvXJsGilkF1yzHnVEhyphenhyphenJAA2Vw/s320/Hopkins.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ivan with his favorite caricature, Sir Anthony.</td></tr></tbody></table><br> The most popular caricatures that people seek out these days, according to Ivan, are Kermit the Frog, Lucille Ball, and Liza Minelli, Elizabeth Taylor, and (more recently) Lin Manuel Miranda. When asked which one was his favorite, Ivan spoke highly of Baratz's first official caricature for the place: a young Anthony Hopkins when he won the Tony Award for his performance in Equus. He kindly took it off the wall and posed for a photo with it. Something about the eyes, he kept telling me--it mesmerized him on his first day at work, and he still stops and stares at it every time he passes it. I was happy to see Ivan moved by the work. It really did capture something ineffable about the young Hopkins. "It's exaggerated but at the same time it's so beautiful," he said wistfully, as if those two things are expected to be exclusive--when in caricature, they go hand in hand. <br><br>All the drawings on display are actually laser copies. The real ones are kept in a vault, as it's become a regular thing for the art to walk off the walls. Ivan says he's never been aware of the stolen prints ending up on Ebay or some such, and they have caught a few people in the act. Someone had just attempted to steal Bob Hope prior to my visit there.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSkonNt7Cye9FeTNbJEK9Pe_omamiF33dp21wV3-La4dYkO7PLulgWisEGI2av3M62vGtQ9iUfbQIYpzpkF0_GTZElYZz4sCuHXmA38p1-qbvnLuZtAt5faPNuWOInJgpWLvchWLGVmuDa/s1600/Wall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSkonNt7Cye9FeTNbJEK9Pe_omamiF33dp21wV3-La4dYkO7PLulgWisEGI2av3M62vGtQ9iUfbQIYpzpkF0_GTZElYZz4sCuHXmA38p1-qbvnLuZtAt5faPNuWOInJgpWLvchWLGVmuDa/s400/Wall.jpg" width="300"></a></div><br>As to what kind of influence various people have on the choices the artist makes, Ivan stated that, to his knowledge the public relations reps, the agents, and the stars themselves do not have a say in the artwork beyond providing the source photo. (Which is, granted, having a pretty big say . . . if the caricature is made using just one photo, then that's a very limiting way to approach getting a full likeness.) The subject does not see the caricature before the unveiling, but Sardi's owner, Max Klimavicius, does look at a preliminary sketch and suggest changes if he feels they are needed. <br><br><h2>A Letter from Max</h2><br> The business owner is always the first and last word when it comes to how that business is run--even if the business is a hallowed institution for a large group of people who feel a sense of ownership themselves. So Max makes the rules. This <a href="http://www.grubstreet.com/2016/03/lin-manuel-miranda-sardis-caricature.html">March 2016 GrubStreet article</a> quotes him: <i>“There are basically three rules for the wall,” the owner explains. “First of all, you have to be a friend of the house. Just because you are famous it doesn’t mean you get a picture. Second, you have to be in the arts. And third? Third is for the exceptions to the other rules.”</i> <br><br> I did email <span style="color: black;">Max Klimavicius and asked him some follow up questions (politely, as I am not in the business of gotcha journalism), inquiring about the stylistic drift and exactly how much concern for actors' ego went into the drawings these days. While Mr. Klimavicius was very polite in his response, his note also contained a disavowal of the art form--which, again, is his right as a business owner. He and he alone determines what goes on the wall. </span><br><br><span style="color: black;"> Responding to my query on exaggeration in the recent caricatures, he took issue with the word itself: <i>"</i></span><span style="color: black;"><i><span style="color: black;">Though we refer colloquially to our collection as caricatures, in point of fact, for over 40 years we have been presenting stylized portraits of Broadway’s stars who are friends of the restaurant."</span></i> Caricature? Stylized portrait? I know, I know, it's potato poh-tah-toe for a lot of folks. </span>He ended his letter with a request: <i>"<span style="color: black;">But since this collection does not technically conform to the caricature category, I ask you to permit us to withdraw and disengage. Thank you very much and best of luck in all of your endeavors."</span></i><br><br><div style="text-align: right;"></div><br><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIN7Et3S8XLhnvnHyCbb1bm2TdNnM_N8rSDShAIlN93JN-TJ8Rmvx4rXIDkoZ7v0js6ZCNGMsQMoyXHNQzC3lMHe3GXnaxgcvRHch2TcwvA5dQWAVeoeYIbAFz378avuQp9LA70aCecCK6/s1600/Zach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIN7Et3S8XLhnvnHyCbb1bm2TdNnM_N8rSDShAIlN93JN-TJ8Rmvx4rXIDkoZ7v0js6ZCNGMsQMoyXHNQzC3lMHe3GXnaxgcvRHch2TcwvA5dQWAVeoeYIbAFz378avuQp9LA70aCecCK6/s1600/Zach.jpg"></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Zach Trenholm's work needs no label.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: black;"> Okay, well then, consider my above blog to be about stylized portraits instead of caricatures. Sardi's has been a beacon for caricature artists--I mean stylized portrait drawers--for most of the past century, and I will continue to pop in there whenever I am in New York City. In the heart of the theater district, the establishment has survived plenty of years and will continue to thrive, I think, regardless of ups and downs in the quality of food on the plates and art on the walls. If Richard Baratz steps down one day, I look forward to seeing what new blood might season the visual smorgasbord there . . . If I were the one who made the rules, my pick would be <a href="http://zachtrenholm.com/celebrity_caricature.html">Zach Trenholm</a>, whose strikingly accurate yet graphic and shape-reliant style invokes a real spirit of Broadway and theater caricature at its best. Likenesses are readable from across a crowded restaurant, and will help cause a restaurant to be crowded in the first place. Look him up, Sardi's, I'm rooting for you!</span><i><span style="color: black;"> </span></i><br><br><br><br><div><br></div><div><br></div></div>CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-30921204979716027972016-06-19T01:00:00.000-07:002016-06-19T14:54:03.404-07:00Drawing at LA Pride 2016Last weekend I chucked my gear into the Ford and drove from Vegas to West Hollywood in order to work alongside Al Rodriguez (thanks for the gig, Al!) at the annual LA Pride event. I wasn't sure what to expect, but it exceeded any expectations I could have formed.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht2BHsY3_1z4Giird3cWz0MxPBbIHhyHq-RLIDVNmPS4adGvqNrg8LWM3UOevbyEAdeElqnN6g_rMdFb9-MKvPWxuhM3bAnEsgR5GUVzHVnoKFLQ1H29dW7U29i4QcmF-i2Tb_8pUMherk/s1600/LAPlog6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht2BHsY3_1z4Giird3cWz0MxPBbIHhyHq-RLIDVNmPS4adGvqNrg8LWM3UOevbyEAdeElqnN6g_rMdFb9-MKvPWxuhM3bAnEsgR5GUVzHVnoKFLQ1H29dW7U29i4QcmF-i2Tb_8pUMherk/s200/LAPlog6.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even the map was clever. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We were working digitally for Delta Airlines, and the theme was "Dream Drag" . . . so unlike the quicker 5-7 minute color digital pictures of just head and shoulders, we were to make the experience a little more interactive. I like interaction, so I was looking forward to it. We were to ask sitters if they wanted to be a drag queen or a drag king, and what their dream vacation, dream job, or even dream cocktail might be. So I had a 4-hour drive to psych myself up to produce full-body drawings with outlandish costume and unlimited setting possibilities, for a couple of 11-hour stints.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdyE3surDgEMfXI6ypbIQTuqW3crcWqokiNl4e7AEVuV6MHUk4noELJqitkC3ExpjvdOj9j48Pa_OaMi_7cJ0P7ITureXuih2r56Pl99jGomKXhJUTrW8nwNFZECscAK3lGKekV896WzN/s1600/LAPblog8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdyE3surDgEMfXI6ypbIQTuqW3crcWqokiNl4e7AEVuV6MHUk4noELJqitkC3ExpjvdOj9j48Pa_OaMi_7cJ0P7ITureXuih2r56Pl99jGomKXhJUTrW8nwNFZECscAK3lGKekV896WzN/s200/LAPblog8.JPG" width="150" /></a>I settled into my room at the little West Hollywood apartment I'd found on air b&b and walked over to the park where we'd be set up the next day. The line was around the block already, and street vendors hawked sunglasses, little rainbow flags, and fashionable underpants--one or two of which I considered purchasing as a surprise for the Mister. Before bed I looked up a few glamazon poses and practiced a few fabulous body shots so I could more readily pull them up the next day.<br />
<br />
Saturday came and I rolled in with my gear, found everyone, and set up. I've done a ton of digital gigs, but it still feels like a relief once everything is connected and working, in a way I never worry about when I'm just toting an easel. Then the people started sitting for us. To say the crowd was "into it" would be a huge understatement. My first subject said his dream job was to be an opera singer--and he proved it once I finished his drawing:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i9.ytimg.com/vi/9jcCIbiTn_o/default.jpg?sqp=CLjLk7sF&rs=AOn4CLAeI-cRRaf4Sm0YHe6ubSiwdw5Msw" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9jcCIbiTn_o?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_T0ebgo46lIFHMLV17hKjc4gnSv3U7-nd8u6RqR6PLe7Nf7dEAWSj0BdJ5uHQQVSSLb4NkXkWapup2awUApagDgs1k6-luJ8QYHS9J2dz4qQFR4bu7qqzBbIrfoD32gOAzheo8ZnGuLrI/s1600/LAPblog1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_T0ebgo46lIFHMLV17hKjc4gnSv3U7-nd8u6RqR6PLe7Nf7dEAWSj0BdJ5uHQQVSSLb4NkXkWapup2awUApagDgs1k6-luJ8QYHS9J2dz4qQFR4bu7qqzBbIrfoD32gOAzheo8ZnGuLrI/s320/LAPblog1.JPG" width="320" /></a>Other guests proved just as colorful--the imaginative responses and sense of fun were all over the place. Our client said that drawing folks in drag was the concept, but it was not to be limited to that. Anything goes! And over the weekend these folks definitely put me through my paces. I've drawn plenty of people on unicorns, and I did a few at this event; but some even wanted to BE unicorns. Or mermaids. Or satyrs. Or rainbow lions. You name it.<br />
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Some couples were celebrating recent (legal) marriages, others were planning their future nuptials or imagining a Hawaiian getaway. And one couple of Star Wars fans wanted me to draw them with their future adopted baby--"Any imaginary baby will do! An ewok even!" they said. I could not abide an ewok, so they got a baby Chewie.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elizabethan slash? Yes please.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The nature of the event led to a lot more talking to the sitters--but only when the music from the stage wasn't thoroughly blaring. I can't even recall all the acts, but you could dance to everything. And everyone was. On my break I wandered around and got an eyeful of the crowd. You know the aesthetic some female attendees have at music festivals--very little clothing, what is worn is outlandish or brightly colored? Well the only difference was in <i>this</i> environment that aesthetic applied more to the male attendees than the female ones. It was a great switcheroo. If chicks wearing tiny booty shorts and string bikini tops is fine, then by golly, society should be okay with hot young men wearing similarly revealing things like studded codpieces and thongs with net tops. <br />
<br />
I told Al that he was way overdressed. He smirked at me.<br />
<br />
There were folks who left it "up to me" to a degree (and really, if the crowd is relaxed and having a great time--as everyone here was--it gives the artist a sense of freedom to improvise and stretch a bit, which is a great feeling!). With the conversation and details they gave me, I tried to cobble together something halfway witty. And some people just plain like to challenge me! One pair sat down and said "We'd like to be in a Shakespearean play, but with a homoerotic twist!"<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJfTXbEe8F7zVID-ApcfsZJVkl4qEFieLvwZxq8cXGXUzDzdDNtqeR69AEYO1AefNU8xd_PDbpPaDc_sotLIdCwGk85xJjbXyRMNbuw-Ki5d5C_4bGHqQrFnwfAmQLPPVHSIBj3_uyYPs/s1600/LAPblog4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJfTXbEe8F7zVID-ApcfsZJVkl4qEFieLvwZxq8cXGXUzDzdDNtqeR69AEYO1AefNU8xd_PDbpPaDc_sotLIdCwGk85xJjbXyRMNbuw-Ki5d5C_4bGHqQrFnwfAmQLPPVHSIBj3_uyYPs/s400/LAPblog4.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He said "I spend my time being fabulous, and he<br />
spends his time bringing me back down to earth."<br />
They both laughed a lot at my interpretation. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One couple wanted to be "in space" but didn't specify, so I went ahead and made one of them an alien. He didn't mind, and loved the surprise. In fact, one of the time drains on my speed was that upon completion, nearly everyone who got drawn popped up to see their caricature on screen, squealed with delight for a minute or two, posed for a selfie with it (even though they were getting a print and a download), and then enveloped me with a hug and sometimes a kiss of thanks. This was, honestly and without hyperbole, the best crowd I have ever worked for.<br />
<br />
The first day was such a blast, and I was feeling really comfortable with what seemed like a potentially challenging gig. We called it a night at 1 a.m., grabbed some food at a Denny's down the road, and Al-Rod dropped me off at my air b&b.<br />
<br />
Waking up the next day, I was confused as I scrolled through Facebook and saw that a couple of Orlando friends had "checked in as safe." What? Possibilities scrolled through my head: earthquake? flooding? terror strike?<br />
<br />
Yes, terror strike. Oh man. I read through the news snippets and my heart sank. So many people, and they were people in the LGBTQ community, out to dance and have a good time and love one another--just like the people I'd been drawing all that previous day. I wondered how this would affect the mood and events today. Then, as I arrived and set up, Al told me about the suspect that police had detained the previous night on his way to LA Pride. Our handlers talked with us briefly about it too, and we found out that organizers had considered canceling Sunday but had decided to continue the festivities but with heightened security.<br />
<br />
I'm glad they did not cancel. The show must go on.<br />
<br />
I got a few texts from friends and family who knew I was there, asking me to keep alert and be careful. I was, on both counts.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeSXfHHLyxGr4HQFbw2Nfx6hawh3netXr4wJPbcRTzjCYRs3r6xQans_51QnURuvvit37-CPoDpMbrULClYqx8an30jU7LgaveZr794gSpodd6_lPjERaPoYjTrZAZHppUJJ62roQwlpxq/s1600/LAPblog9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeSXfHHLyxGr4HQFbw2Nfx6hawh3netXr4wJPbcRTzjCYRs3r6xQans_51QnURuvvit37-CPoDpMbrULClYqx8an30jU7LgaveZr794gSpodd6_lPjERaPoYjTrZAZHppUJJ62roQwlpxq/s400/LAPblog9.JPG" width="257" /></a>The crowds filed in after the parade, and the show definitely went on. The previous night's massacre was mentioned several times from the stage, as emcees asked for a moment of silence, and then moments of noise, in solidarity with Orlando.<br />
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I drew quite a few more nice people, and yes, some of them wanted to go with the theme of "dream drag" and reveled in letting me drape them in a different persona, sometimes replete with giant ta-tas.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xplPo8f1I7cpmI23Bvl2HWqYj-g353ZKqWW5l8skl_NZX1Loxk9gVtnSmak4nD8WMC6WRuPCK40CAyo_dnNhlMW0cpRe9WvBmZJAD5XtlvYC4Fb3Xr5Xby0CxyH6VboBvJ85E-dkMgDE/s1600/%253ALAPride-12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xplPo8f1I7cpmI23Bvl2HWqYj-g353ZKqWW5l8skl_NZX1Loxk9gVtnSmak4nD8WMC6WRuPCK40CAyo_dnNhlMW0cpRe9WvBmZJAD5XtlvYC4Fb3Xr5Xby0CxyH6VboBvJ85E-dkMgDE/s200/%253ALAPride-12.JPG" width="133" /></a>A few trans women sat for me on Sunday (at least, a few that I could tell were transitioning--there may have been others that I simply assumed were cis). I had been in the habit of asking people at the start if they wanted to go with the theme of a drag queen or drag king, which I did tentatively at this point, knowing that the conflation of "drag" and "transvestitism" and "transsexual" was a point of contention among trans people. But this elegant trans woman took the reins and replied immediately "No drag for me, thanks, I was in drag for over 50 years, I'm done trying to dress up and pretend I'm a man!" She went on to chat with me about how long she'd been transitioned, and how she was lucky it only cost her one family. Her family-family all abandoned her, she said, but her work family was very accepting. It was both heartbreaking and awe-inspiring how casually she revealed this, and how she counted herself lucky to have<i> only</i> lost her blood-related family. She had a striking look to her face that went well with her strong presence, and I told her she had a mix of Meryl Streep and Glenn Close in her features, which was meant (and taken) as a compliment.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZGJ8duAfaXgeoLIqWaX6OQWIV894CuBmNO4jjSU4sOB6eGy5Sxbx_FjHLbQsihtAncraDMYdsPvBkQ01wuvXwpSOSEFZQt0W1_XlkaJ4ufXuhSDUATWnQpr0iBdY6w3gErlENvHV-MMp/s1600/LAPride13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGZGJ8duAfaXgeoLIqWaX6OQWIV894CuBmNO4jjSU4sOB6eGy5Sxbx_FjHLbQsihtAncraDMYdsPvBkQ01wuvXwpSOSEFZQt0W1_XlkaJ4ufXuhSDUATWnQpr0iBdY6w3gErlENvHV-MMp/s320/LAPride13.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Speaking of Martians, the best kind of<br />
drag queen is a KILLER DRAG QUEEN<br />
FROM OUTER SPACE!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Another woman who had just begun her transition seemed to carry herself with a bit less confidence, a bit more guarded. She was plump and her body language reminded me of the self-conscious ball of nerves I was back in middle and high school--sitting so as to hide as much of yourself as you can. She wore a jean skirt, simple sandals (in a large size) and a sweatshirt with little cats on it: also clothes I'd likely have worn in high school. I asked what she felt like having in her picture--a dream vacation, a dream job, a fantasy? She said "Just draw me as a normal woman--that is my dream. <i>Just to be a normal woman.</i>" Okay, that made me tear up just a little but I pushed through. She asked me to please not draw her freckles (she was covered in them) . . . I responded that it was up to her, but added that I liked drawing freckles, they have always seemed a cute, feminine feature to me. (I wasn't trying to flatter, that was the truth--my little sister has about a million freckles, and I guess they always seemed girly to me). "Oh, well if you can make them look feminine, put them in," she relented with a shy smile. She said she was lonely, as the only trans woman in her small town she felt like everyone there looked at her like she was from Mars--but attending Pride was a wonderful, accepting experience for her. It's for individuals like her that the show must go on.<br />
<br />
And you know, that little blip about the freckles was the ONLY time the whole weekend that someone was self-conscious or told me to edit them. There was no vanity or wish to be falsely improved going on here--which, in this business, you tend to see multiple times a day. Which, again, tends to free up my mindset and allows the cartoons to flow better. I don't ascribe that to be a defining factor in the LGBTQ community: lord knows I've drawn plenty of gay people who were also vain and self-conscious. Just, here, with the festive, inclusive, welcoming feeling going on around us, it was like no one needed to put on any fake notions of trying to appear anything but themselves. It was just good fun.<br />
<br />
My day stretched into night, and I drew folks surfing, sunbathing, and enjoying the California sun. I drew folks shooting ray guns, playing ukeleles, and climbing the Eifel Tower. It was certainly not a boring event in any way!<br />
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The Vice Mayor sat for a drawing and said he liked airplanes and air travel (a rare thing to like these days--but like a good politician he may have been inspired to choose that based on our sponsor).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJk0HbSxKxiD_JU73Qz0yY_5R6Ra3bNx0wn731F77UZk7bvhF2mPJJ9AkH9S9txUHTqOwc-zOj6_I3BIaUWt3IkQ7mRQUlTmGLlJW5dJgz5cesypAuQFd67dts5w7aicyGb7STALgD9s2R/s1600/LAPblog-11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJk0HbSxKxiD_JU73Qz0yY_5R6Ra3bNx0wn731F77UZk7bvhF2mPJJ9AkH9S9txUHTqOwc-zOj6_I3BIaUWt3IkQ7mRQUlTmGLlJW5dJgz5cesypAuQFd67dts5w7aicyGb7STALgD9s2R/s320/LAPblog-11.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
Speaking of our sponsor: o<span style="text-align: center;">ur crowd-handlers were all Delta airline attendants. Not temps or model types dressed as attendants, but actual trained flight attendants. And if you ever have a crowd to handle, flight attendants are the people you want on your side. These folks were friendly yet firm, and expert at guiding people through the process and lining up who was next. And at the minute of the last hour of the final day, a please-just-one-more was buzzing around, in the form of a very drunk and incredibly persistent young lady. One of the handlers leaned down to whisper in my ear, and I wearily cringed: many clients and crowd-handlers will, in this situation, simply ask the artist to please make an exception and just draw the insistent person. I was expecting this was about to be requested. But NOPE: the flight attendant whispered </span><i style="text-align: center;">"Ummmm, this woman has been told NO several times by me and others and is still insisting on a drawing although the line has been cut off. Please DO NOT draw her, we cannot reward this type of behavior."</i><span style="text-align: center;"> WOOOO!! YESSSS! Go flight attendant! Way to have my back and assert that the (drunken, unreasonable) customer isn't always right! They ended up having to walk her off the premises and mention that security would be called if she did not comply. And one of the male flight attendants, in a vocal twang that clearly communicated he was part of the LGBTQ community, said "She was even trying to ply me with sexual favors, saying she'd 'do anything I wanted' if I let her cut in line--I was like, girl, </span><i style="text-align: center;">do you know where you are</i><span style="text-align: center;">?" Yeah, that poor thing was definitely barking up the wrong tree.</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: center;">All in all, a peaceful end to the night. My gratitude to the Santa Monica police department for keeping away a potential monster that could have made things end very differently at LA Pride. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgihWafQJdUi2LTxHOi9Z_3KTG6N38TTRRA85Z7YODRGknJl8ZNKD6XqsXkCJ-Qzt-JsloL2EzxLcnvJdFRp0NlNmhzbebBx3qVuy5a-tw5t_t_jqhEDJlyf47A0t8ugetybJaMmS47uD/s1600/LAPBlog7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgihWafQJdUi2LTxHOi9Z_3KTG6N38TTRRA85Z7YODRGknJl8ZNKD6XqsXkCJ-Qzt-JsloL2EzxLcnvJdFRp0NlNmhzbebBx3qVuy5a-tw5t_t_jqhEDJlyf47A0t8ugetybJaMmS47uD/s320/LAPBlog7.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The West Hollywood Cheerleaders and I wish you a fond farewell--thanks for reading all my words, y'all!</td></tr>
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<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-7413540692352785092015-08-29T17:12:00.001-07:002015-08-29T17:29:44.654-07:00How DARE the Weekly Standard Employ Journalistic Principles and Tradition!As much as I might want to keep this blog about the art and business of caricature, like it or not this is an art form that has grown up hand-in-hand with politics. And so this morning I awoke to see an interesting spat going on involving a caricature of a politician (and yes, I mean that both ways: it's a painted, rendered caricature of Donald Trump, whom many regard as a living, walking caricature of a politician).<br />
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The <a href="http://www.weeklystandard.com/"><i>Weekly Standard</i></a> commissioned award-winning Jason Seiler to paint the Donald, which he did with incredible detail and form.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_H_mUs9Z2GQPaRSzXV9FcRPPabLxohJNclIRk7Wq9nS-f0g-31_UeRagmckSR3VdA7GnSr3t6OwF-kS9OhDaOCGrn15ItFo39Zea53v47Z4vasz7hP-zndnEMd495CPhaouwYfsX7blw/s1600/Trump.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_H_mUs9Z2GQPaRSzXV9FcRPPabLxohJNclIRk7Wq9nS-f0g-31_UeRagmckSR3VdA7GnSr3t6OwF-kS9OhDaOCGrn15ItFo39Zea53v47Z4vasz7hP-zndnEMd495CPhaouwYfsX7blw/s1600/Trump.jpg" /></a></div>
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Then the <i>Weekly Standard</i> released it to their fan base, which (from the Facebook responses) seems to have lost all sense of what caricature is or (GASP!) that it's been used to depict politicians since politics was invented. <br />
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Now, caricature artists who belong to <a href="http://www.caricature.org/">ISCA</a> are already aware of this and several of us have had a run at the comments, soaking in all the looney and digesting it. (The tide is turning, actually, as I see more and more comments explaining or defending the artwork pop up in the last several hours.)<br />
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But this isn't just for artists. Please, you non-artist folks who simply appreciate art, history, caricature, and journalism . . . please have a look. <br />
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<a class="profileLink" href="https://www.facebook.com/weeklystandard/photos/a.440049318298.230913.11643473298/10153194456133299/?type=1">https://www.facebook.com/weeklystandard/photos/a.440049318298.230913.11643473298/10153194456133299/?type=1&theater</a><br />
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If you can parse your way through the misspellings, typos, confederate flag profile pictures, and occasional misogynistic spitwad, you'll notice that very few of the folks commenting seem to have any realization that <i>Weekly Standard </i>has a history of using caricatures on their cover--or, even, that caricature is a thing that exists. The number-one "liked" comment excoriates the editors at <i>Weekly Standard</i> for daring to "present the front runner in a cartoonish way." <br />
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Others are fuming that they are singling out Trump with this illustration while they would never treat Jeb Bush or other candidates in such a "disrespectful" way. (Just a peek at the <a href="https://subservices.weeklystandard.com/ITPS2.cgi?ordertype=reply+only&itemcode=wstd&iresponse=wstd.tws_search_landing&KeyCode=V24&utm_source=netcrafter&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=brand"><i>Weekly Standard </i>subscription page </a>shows me caricatures of the editors, and in the 4 sample covers we have 2 caricatures--one of Jeb Bush and another of Republican hopeful Scott Walker). <br />
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A few commenters point out that the <i>Standard</i> in fact has caricatures on a pretty regular basis (and they sure have had a field day with Obama's ears and Hillary's mug) . . . but I also wondered how many folks taking this sensible stance are actually caricature artists who found the link via the ISCA Facebook post. Jason Seiler himself can be found reverse-trolling on there, politely asking folks what is shameful or awful about the caricature. I don't think any one of the rabidly angry Trump supporters has any idea Seiler is, in fact, the creator of that monstrosity they are fuming over.<br />
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Don't anybody out him, either! I suspect he's enjoying this.<br />
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I'm no Jason Seiler, not by a long shot, but I had a <i>slightly similar</i> feeling recently at a fundraiser for one of my favorite podcasts. I had donated a caricature sculpture of <a href="http://web.randi.org/">James "The Amazing" Randi </a>for an auction to benefit the <a href="http://www.theskepticsguide.org/"><i>Skeptic's Guide to the Universe</i></a>. At the dinner, as the items were walked around the room, one woman at my table (who had no idea that I was the artist) scowled and said "Oh my goodness, how awful! It's so grotesque!" as she examined the miniature James Randi. A fellow sitting across from her said "What, are you crazy? That's awesome--looks just like him!" The woman continued sneering, the guy chuckled and tried to explain caricature to her (and art for that matter), and I simply sat back quietly, enjoying it all secretly.<br />
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One of the things caricature shares with "high art" is that it can have the power to divide a room. (The sculpture fetched just over $700, by the way. The woman at my table frowned and made disgusted noises each time the price went higher.) <br />
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What I'm seeing on the comment thread for <i>Weekly Standard</i>, though, seems a bit more than dividing a room. I'm not sure what's going on with the Trump supporters as a whole (or if what we see there is even a good representative sample), but the thin-skinned inability to take a visual joke is apparent. As is a really blinding non-awareness of the history of caricature in political publications--hell, I'm not even talking about the roots of the art form in Colonial America or eighteenth-century France here: these readers seem unaware of <b><i>what caricature even is</i>,</b> unaware that <b><i>the President and all politicians are regularly caricatured,</i></b> and that the publication they subscribe to <b><i>has used caricatures regularly for its entire existence</i>--yes, even on Democrats. </b><br />
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Ouch. Just, ouch. <b> </b><br />
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Many of them could not recognize it as a painting and assumed it was some kind of photo manipulation. Though it was painted digitally, it's clearly got the brush-strokes and markings of a highly rendered painting. Have these folks ever seen a real painting, I wondered? Did no one take them to a museum as a kid? Was it just the gun range and Sizzler for every family outing? <br />
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Just check out some choice comments I culled (copied & pasted, so consider all typos below to have [sic] next to them):<br />
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<i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195971823299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195971823299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195971823299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195971823299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"If you can't portray a presidential candidate in a serious manner, don't bother at all !!!"</span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195971823299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195971823299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195971823299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195971823299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"> "</span></span></span></span><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194471748299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194471748299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194471748299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194471748299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">Sticks and Stones May Break His Bones...but your lousy satirical cover photos will not hard him. Trump for President 2016."</span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194471748299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194471748299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194471748299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194471748299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195219523299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195219523299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.0"></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195219523299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195219523299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195219523299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"Insulting distortion."</span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></i> <br />
<i> <span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196103568299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196103568299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196103568299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196103568299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"When do we see the press do this to Hillary or Sanders or any other person in the top 5"</span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i> <span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195592693299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195592693299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195592693299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195592693299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"This photoshopping is just plain old mean! Shame on you!"</span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i> "<span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">Weekly
Standard would you do the same distortion on a picture of Obama? I"m
thinking if you did you would be accused of being a racist but you think
it's ok to make fun of a white guy..... That racist thing works both
ways!"</span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"What an unflattering picture... On purpose?"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196496763299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196496763299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196496763299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196496763299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"Can't they stop photo shopping pics?"</span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195500788299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195500788299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195500788299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195500788299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"just cancelled my subscription.....no more serious than a cartoon?"</span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196062783299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196062783299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196062783299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196062783299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><i>"Didn't expect this kind of cover photo from the Standard. I suppose manipulation is the flavor of the day."</i></span></span></span></span><i> </i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196124728299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196124728299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196124728299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196124728299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"Whys they use such an unbecoming picture"</span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194480243299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194480243299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194480243299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194480243299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">Geez....terrible artwork designed to insult."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194480243299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194480243299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194480243299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194480243299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195675723299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195675723299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195675723299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195675723299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"Your
BS unflattering photo can NOT alter the greatest of this man."</span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194515478299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194515478299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194515478299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153194515478299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"Ohhhh did they make trump look like a mungoloid?"</span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195128988299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195404873299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195567203299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195567203299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195567203299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153195567203299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0">"Why the distorted picture?"</span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></i> </span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
And my favorite unwitting typo (I believe she meant "disgusting") was: "<span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196548503299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><i><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196548503299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.0"></span></i><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196548503299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196548503299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196548503299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"><i>U are discussing, Weekly Standard</i>" . . . why yes, ma'am, yes I am discussing <i>Weekly Standard</i>. I thought that was kind of obvious. </span></span></span></span><br />
<span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196548503299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196548503299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196548503299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".5w.1:5:1:$comment10153194456133299_10153196548503299:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1.$comment-body.0.$end:0:$text0:0"></span></span></span></span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwA7HXvqxAQ2x3CSU4FkFWA7jcFzPixpZeIZEdKRhN-Lm4v0tkesMM_Q_Dre9HwmWtw-DkBW7_JpB7_XG3d7ZGYbfp_b2ipGRsLwn2pme0O3sR9kUfOBGJeHk3WWk-fnWVWMZDVkIcFSL2/s1600/1904117_10151953577128034_110308785_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwA7HXvqxAQ2x3CSU4FkFWA7jcFzPixpZeIZEdKRhN-Lm4v0tkesMM_Q_Dre9HwmWtw-DkBW7_JpB7_XG3d7ZGYbfp_b2ipGRsLwn2pme0O3sR9kUfOBGJeHk3WWk-fnWVWMZDVkIcFSL2/s320/1904117_10151953577128034_110308785_n.jpg" width="241" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, Seiler would NEVER make fun of Obama...</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The scientific illiteracy of the general American public--something that seems more noticeable in those who identify as "far right" or ultra-conservative--has often depressed me. But today the art illiteracy of that same demographic is what's been getting my goat.<br />
<br />
It's a caricature. Look it up, people! (Actually, <b>do look it up,</b> because oh my good lord it was hilarious reading the attempts at spelling that word--if you spot a correct spelling of the word there, it's likely because the one commenting IS a caricature artist). CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-57985762334588760042015-06-30T19:25:00.001-07:002015-06-30T19:39:24.549-07:00Drawing Married Couples, Regardless of Their Genitalia<h3>
Rainbows for Everyone! </h3>
I've spent some time today and yesterday looking at my ever-increasingly-rainbow-colored Facebook feed and reading all the posts about the Supreme Court's ruling on gay marriage. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtw6PdU_sedjxJo8eamvJjES8OQ19SJt62DiQv_d2wHUZ4uCvqWzEJ5dDiFNlwrV0VZKKk5Bn0FjzyU5oql7GdM7oyFdAV5th5hMmhuQP476iEQiSucwoJl8W5OHGGw9KGeLM3iOGwKbsj/s1600/resize-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtw6PdU_sedjxJo8eamvJjES8OQ19SJt62DiQv_d2wHUZ4uCvqWzEJ5dDiFNlwrV0VZKKk5Bn0FjzyU5oql7GdM7oyFdAV5th5hMmhuQP476iEQiSucwoJl8W5OHGGw9KGeLM3iOGwKbsj/s200/resize-1.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
What does this have to do with caricature? Well, a couple of things. Number one, we work weddings. And weddings (or, specifically, wedding vendors who refuse service to gay couples) have been a hot topic in the news this year. No doubt you've heard of the <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/oregon-bakery-pay-gay-couple-refused-cake-article-1.2103577">bakers</a>, <a href="http://www.foxnews.com/transcript/2015/02/24/exclusive-florist-who-refuses-to-do-gay-wedding-speaks-out/">florists</a>, <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2015/04/02/indianas-memories-pizza-wouldnt-cater-gay-wedding-gets-40k-in-crowdfunding/">pizza makers</a>, and even a <a href="http://www.slate.com/blogs/outward/2015/04/17/michigan_mechanic_brian_klawiter_s_anti_gay_rant_are_nuts_and_bolts_the.html">mechanic</a> weighing in on the national stage to proclaim that they would refuse services to openly gay people as a way to exercise their religious rights. Businesses at the center of news stories like this were sent donations by people on one side of the debate and boycotted by people on the other. The coverage angered me on two fronts: it ticks me off that gays who want to marry are being discriminated against, and it ticks me off that wedding vendors are being represented on national TV by these few jerkwads. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGuSyM7Uy-BHjImnV637nob8sjQ0o8Vk9k0C2Uc8rzH1J9CT0WH4d-tEzQEE4H-Mh3m4E5mEp0fLcbd-3SwDvy2LZifYokOPnhgpA1kz1M-lStwcedfbeOf_OJ5-cdYKYTRJK48SF3tdBc/s1600/gay-wedding-arlenes-flowers-washington-florist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGuSyM7Uy-BHjImnV637nob8sjQ0o8Vk9k0C2Uc8rzH1J9CT0WH4d-tEzQEE4H-Mh3m4E5mEp0fLcbd-3SwDvy2LZifYokOPnhgpA1kz1M-lStwcedfbeOf_OJ5-cdYKYTRJK48SF3tdBc/s200/gay-wedding-arlenes-flowers-washington-florist.jpg" width="200" /></a>One artist posting on the ISCA forum a few months ago mentioned that he had been asked discreetly when getting hired, "This is for a gay wedding, do you have any problem working it?" To his credit, he did not have any problems, and he lamented the fact that the organizer felt a need to issue such a trigger warning to him. I know a lot of artists (gay, straight, religious, not religious, conservative, and liberal), and I can't think of any who would have any problems working such an event. There might be a few in my Facebook list, but if so they've certainly never told me they are prejudiced in this way and would turn down a gig in protest. <br />
<br />
The only group we all seem to discriminate against is broke Americans. You are too broke to pay us? Well then we won't be working your event. (And actually, that comes with an asterisk too, since plenty of us do work for charity gigs on a regular basis).<br />
<br />
<h3>
Discrimination and Stereotypes </h3>
I'm tempted to say "having more gay weddings is going to be FABULOUS, they are such
party people!" but the truth is I know a couple of gay folk who are kind of
sticks in the mud. Stereotypes aren't ever across-the-board true, even
the positive ones.<br />
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<br />
While every bar in America hangs up a sign that says they reserve the
right to refuse service to anyone, I'd always assumed that was the "in
case of A-hole" emergency lever. If someone is being a terrible human being,
you can point to the sign and eject them. But assuming all persons in a
particular group are terrible, and preemptively refusing to do business
with them? That's discrimination--not to mention a really awful
business plan. <br />
<br />
Like it or not, we all discriminate in some ways--big,
little, often unnoticed even by us, so it's valuable to self-examine on a regular basis.
Our nervous systems are practically DESIGNED to discriminate and form stereotypes, it's a
means of self-preservation. Poisonous red berries made your ancestors sick once or twice and BAM, they avoided all red foods after that. Fast-forward a few hundred thousand years and I know caricature artists who cringe whenever they get approached by certain demographics of the public because of previous awful experiences. It doesn't even have to be your experience, you can just hear about how awful something (or someone) is from your peer group and it will have an effect.<br />
<br />
Caricaturists (I like to think) are
especially good at noticing patterns, so we certainly fall prey to this primal drive to stereotype. Plus
cartoonists have historically made a living poking fun at stereotypes or
relying on them for gags. As one coworker said recently at a fair, "I'd
like to learn more about your culture, so that I can more accurately
make fun of it, please." But it's not all fun and games: being
reluctant to draw an Indian couple that walks up to the booth because
they "just don't get caricature" (unless it's Indians with an accent
from the UK, then hell yeah, sit them down!) or jockeying to get the
Japanese couple because "they so get caricature" and usually tip well . .
. those are both examples of stereotyping/discrimination on the caricature circuit. Artists are human, and so what they believe about those groups is based on
experience or what's repeated in our peer group. But, very importantly, I must point out that I've never seen an artist flat-out refuse to draw someone based on their ethnicity, gender, religion, or sexual orientation. They'll complain, sure: one fellow I worked with rattled off song
titles he wanted to write about stereotypical customer groups that
rankled him. There was a country ballad called "Black Women with Yellow
Hair Scare Me," and a punk number called "Screaming Mexican Baby." Yet every bleached-blonde African American woman and every screaming Latino toddler got good service from this guy, he never once refused their business.<br />
<br />
See, I'm all for acknowledging that we have a lizard part of our brain, and it wants to hate people (or at least categorize them). But part of being an adult citizen of this great country of ours is realizing one must act in such a way that overcomes that lizard-brain tendency. In fact, it's kind of fun to rack up a count of how many people at the average fair (or mall, or party) completely defy the stereotype associated with their demographic. People surprise you, that's a constant you can bank on. <br />
<br />
<h3>
Events That Go against Your Morals</h3>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, I will happily take a slice of that gay wedding business!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Many of the gay-partay-nay-sayers explain that it's not the people they hate, it's the event. Hate the sin, love the sinner; so, hate the wedding, love the guests? In light of the Supreme Court's ruling, some fellow artists have taken this opportunity to happily announce (or re-announce) on social media that they are available to work gay weddings, just as they always have been. I honestly cannot recall working one of those in recent memory, but within the past month I've drawn a lesbian proposal commission and an anniversary picture of two boyfriends. I've also been hired for fundraisers, private parties, and corporate events by members of the LGBTQ community, just as I've worked alongside gay artists and hung out with my gay friends. So working a gay wedding would be no problem at all. Of course, that's easy for me to say--I have nothing against gays or the idea of them getting married to each other.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, it's hard for me to sympathize with those who say they discriminate because getting hired for a gay wedding goes against their core beliefs. Because I do have core beliefs. Some of those beliefs are even "deeply held" as the catchphrase goes. When you hang out a shingle and decide you're going to offer a service to the public, the one overriding "deeply held belief" that matters is your work ethic. Do the work. Plenty of people manage to do their jobs. A Muslim ER doctor will treat you even if the Koran defines you as a heretic. An Amish roadside stand will still sell you apple butter even if they see that you were driving a car, not a buggy. <br />
<br />
I have worked <i>so many</i> events that don't align with my core belief structure and morals. <b>That's why it's called <i>working</i> an event and not "attending an event voluntarily because I think it's awesome."</b> I have sat quietly with my head bowed during prayers I disagree with. I have smiled through corporate speeches that are diametrically opposed to my philosophy. I've drawn for associations and clubs that center around stuff I believe is total bunk. I drew at one wedding for out-of-towners that included a long, angry-sounding speech by the father of the bride detailing how marriage is between a man and a woman, as God intended, and nothing would ever change that, etc. etc. (I felt a twinge of embarrassment for the bride, wondering if she shared his views completely or was rolling her eyes as she watched her old man unravel at what was supposed to be her special day.) I have drawn at events held by some of the biggest donors to the Republican Party. I have drawn for Jews, Hindus, Christians, Muslims, Atheists, and Wiccans. I've drawn at Temples and Churches and Strip Clubs. I drew a woman once who asked me to go into the restroom with her to see her hair because she couldn't remove her hijab in public (I did, and she had lovely hair by the way).<br />
<br />
I was a paid performer, there to do my job, not take a stand or try to belittle or change the minds of the people who hired me. And you know what? None of those events turned me gay, Muslim, Christian, Jewish, Hindu, Wiccan, or Republican. But it did give me a lot of face-time with people who grew up differently than I did. People in other communities suddenly seem surprisingly similar to you when you sit down and have a chat. They worry about their double-chins and laugh at a good joke. Having some face-time with people different from you is valuable, and I advise everyone to seek it out. It's one of the best ways to combat that lizard-brain tendency we humans have of categorizing and stigmatizing. <br />
<br />
<h3>
My Own Past Bigotry & Gay Marriage</h3>
<br />
A year or two ago I realized something (darn that self-reflection--sometimes it makes you realize you've been going about something the wrong way!). As gay marriage started getting legalized in more and more states, I examined my typical patter and how I interact with couples who sit for caricatures. And, without realizing it, the marriage question had sort of formed a flow chart in my brain. "So, you two married or dating or cousins or what?" was a typical icebreaker . . . and one I never really used with same-sex couples. And depending on the answer I got, I formed certain notions in my head and asked other questions. "Have any kids?" and so on and so forth.<br />
<br />
I mean, I'm no provincial sheltered artist--I've drawn hundreds if not thousands of same-sex couples. Some, who had kids with them, I did just assume were married (or domestically partnered) and I asked them the typical "married life" type questions and made small talk. But for so many other gay couples, I realized, I was just interacting with them as if they were casually dating. And no doubt many of them were . . . but my internal assumption had no basis in fact. Or if it did, it was just the fact that both partners had the same kind of genitalia. With a straight couple, it was just a natural progression . . . "Oh, how long you two been married then?" "Wow, any kids? You leave them at home with grandma & grandpa?" "Oh wow, are you planning a big trip or anything for your 20th anniversary!" And so on and so forth. With gay couples I kind of skirted all that and talked about the weather or their jobs or something else. I can't say why, it wasn't ever a conscious decision. <br />
<br />
<br />
Someone once argued with me against gay marriage by saying that homosexuals had more partners, more casual relationships than straight people. Therefore they were more likely to cheat and so marriage would be a bad idea for them anyway. (I countered by asking him if we should gather data about the races and, if members of a particular race had more casual relationships / sex partners / adultery than the other races, we should ban members of that race from marrying?) But that question started me thinking, what would my adult love life be like if <b><i>I</i></b> were prohibited from marrying? Would I be less likely to form a deep attachment with a partner? Maybe. I'd hope I wouldn't be so stuck on a piece of paper and the legal and tax status it confers . . . but the true answer is <i>maybe</i>. What if, in addition to the government not allowing me to marry, most of the conversations I had with people were framed in such a way that they assumed I would always be single, a casual dater, never have kids, and so on? Well, again, I hope I'd be strong enough to define my own life and love the way I want . . . but again the answer is <i>maybe</i>. Conversations can open up a person's potential, but they can also help close it down. Have enough conversations with a teenager about how worthless they are, and they'll start believing it. Treat someone like marriage or commitment isn't even a possibility with them, and maybe it will have an effect. And if marriage isn't your thing (gay or straight), fine, it's perfectly okay to never settle down, be a casual dater until your dying day. But freedom is about choice. <br />
<br />
Conservatives who value the family unit and commitments like marriage should, I think, be celebrating. With this week's ruling, the realm of official, state-sanctioned committed relationships has widened.<a href="http://www.newsweek.com/conservative-case-gay-marriage-70923"> If you hold up marriage as a good thing, then more citizens being allowed to marry is a good thing. </a>More citizens being treated equally, and being told they can marry someday if they decide to, is a <i>very</i> good thing. <br />
<br />
So, it's just a little change, I suppose, but nowadays I'm asking gay couples if they are "married, dating, cousins, what?" And so on and so forth with the typical married-person banter. Yep, gays and lesbians, you are no longer safe from my corny married-person jokes. Consider yourself warned. <br />
<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-59895665842597663282015-06-01T12:59:00.001-07:002015-06-03T21:10:10.997-07:00Comic Cons, Interactive Art, and the Thought PoliceI'm in Washington DC at the moment, visiting siblings and niblings that live up in these parts. [And because I'm traveling, and writing this on my mobile devices, I won't be able to throw links onto the post--but if you are curious to read about any of the things mentioned, they are all pretty easily googled.]<div><br></div><div>As it happens, a comic con was taking place this same weekend and my brother-in-law kindly gifted me his pass for the final day. So I tagged along with my 16-year-old niece and her friend, then twelve feet into the convention center we promptly parted ways--to save them the indignity of being seen with a middle-aged aunt and save me the indignity of being seen with two teenagers.<div><br></div><div>Now, I'll first admit fully that I'm spoiled. The first Comic Con I attended was the huge San Diego Comic Con, and I've been to that one several times now. A small one popped up in Vegas, which I attended last year, and I've got a few Sci-Fi cons under my belt too. So Awesome Con sounded like fun, another con in another region to add to my collection of experiences.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_FsYHqCF6lWZZqpBdNVal1aNY9FXgapHgYNBsuSh-GOad7Gg6WnEPk4-PFCZgNpEmv4HxMSAS2OU-Jy7hbAo99nSE1_bHynJtfBP0CJ81pprL5cPy4_1Ku7vsjHsiSpVH871l206zOefS/s640/blogger-image-2043804382.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_FsYHqCF6lWZZqpBdNVal1aNY9FXgapHgYNBsuSh-GOad7Gg6WnEPk4-PFCZgNpEmv4HxMSAS2OU-Jy7hbAo99nSE1_bHynJtfBP0CJ81pprL5cPy4_1Ku7vsjHsiSpVH871l206zOefS/s640/blogger-image-2043804382.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>The staff was friendly, the vendor tables were plentiful, and there was a nifty kid area on the exhibit floor where artists had volunteered to do variations of art fights and similar activities, like the "Drawbstacle Course" where kids came up and drew random squiggles on large paper that the artists then had to turn into a cartoon character within 90 seconds. Attendees were made up of the same general mix one sees at other cons: excited nerds, whole geek families, and costumes ranging all along the spectrum from ironically awful to pristine and professional. </div><div><br></div><div>One thing I really love about SDCC (the main thing I love, actually) is the array of seminars, panels, and presentations that offer some pointers to professional artists or enlighten the more scholarly nerds and geeks on a philosophical or cultural aspect of comic culture or fandom. Awesome Con had a few (a very few) such talks listed in the schedule, though they were only noted by title and lacked any sort of explanatory paragraph or even names of authors/presenters (in the hard copy program or online, that I could find). But the seminar title "How ComicCons Have Changed How We Interact with Art" sounded promising. I imagined it would be a mix of scholarly and whimsical, and right up my alley--since I consider live caricature to be one of the first and most prolific forms of interactive art there is. </div><div><br></div><div>So I bypassed the Jason Mewes Q&A and headed to room 143B, where I loitered with a few other folks waiting to get in. An older woman in an electric scooter wearing a red AwesomeCon shirt of authority guarded the door, and she asked me if I was the moderator or one of the folks on the panel. I'm not sure if I should be tickled or offended at her assumption, but maybe I should have just answered yes and taken my place at the podium. I think I might have been able to pull it off.</div><div><br></div><div>And we would have gotten started on time. Because the actual presenter and panel members were missing for quite a while. At about twenty past, I considered hopping over to hear the rest of Jason Mewes, but another red shirt of authority walked in and explained to us (all twelve of us) that the speaker was on their way. I asked if he knew who the speaker was, hoping that maybe--just maybe--Scott McCloud, Neil Cohn, and Trina Robbins were on their way. The red shirt had no idea. After a few more minutes, in burst a young bearded fellow in a white tee shirt and jean shorts, with a bike messenger bag flopping behind him as he hurried to the microphone. He apologized for keeping us waiting and said his phone had changed the time to 3pm instead of 2pm, so he'd run all the way from his RV, and then spent several more minutes talking about RV life as a bearded young hippie-looking guy travelling the country with his wife and young children. He was particularly keen on sharing stories of police officers who just <i>assumed</i> he was on drugs . . . an opinion which, honestly, I was beginning to share as he talked quickly, sweat rolling down his face, on a topic not at all related to the one he had been scheduled to start half an hour prior. </div><div><br></div><div>Then he (I'll not mention his name) moved on to plugging a Kickstarter project (I'll not mention the project either) that he and his wife were doing, a "reimagining" of a Marvel character--making me wonder how legal it was to raise funds on Kickstarter to publish a story on a lisenced character you don't have the rights to use (or if he got Marvel's permission, I wondered how on earth he did so). After that, he spoke about "living openly and authentically" and how once he accidentally called some short-haired females at a con "guys" then realized his mistake and ran to catch up to them and apologize. He asked the women in the audience, wouldn't they feel offended and sidelined if someone referred to them as "guys"? The two gals he gestured to for an answer both shrugged and said "No, not really." I was staying silent and just seeing where this would go. (For the record, I refer to gals as guys quite often in the chair--it has become a very safe, accepted neutral word: everyone responds well to "How are you guys doing tonight?" But, oddly enough, I have found that saying "How are you tonight, ladies?" to two women can ruffle feathers if one or both are lesbians dressed in a butch, masculine way! I learned that in Tampa).</div><div><br></div><div>He continued on this train of thought, talking about the masculine and feminine articles in the French language and railing against the ingrained sexism he detected in a language I'd bet only one or two in the audience spoke, and then about women who attend comic cons, and whether we feel safe and accepted, etc. He then praised what he called "the consent movement" and said that he firmly believed no one should even <i><b>think a thought</b></i> about someone else without obtaining that person's consent first. He added for good measure that cons are (or should be) a "judgment-free" zone where everyone can live their fantasies <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">without fear or shame. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Oh for crying out loud. </span></div><div><br></div><div>He seemed to be changing his topic and instead basing his talk on the signs posted outside and around the convention area. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKzx7NSZ8LHOntqHhdMHWs-ZRRf0FIV9t_yAkzh3fGDKD_P9uESlUBhoXNOImead5jWZNW7rhDukFFio_tPa2xOgD7hTFsFdIRVYFdcbvM4FbcYpHfDZFPKQszZJcgwHnLFWQXEF0hgW3/s640/blogger-image--634857758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHKzx7NSZ8LHOntqHhdMHWs-ZRRf0FIV9t_yAkzh3fGDKD_P9uESlUBhoXNOImead5jWZNW7rhDukFFio_tPa2xOgD7hTFsFdIRVYFdcbvM4FbcYpHfDZFPKQszZJcgwHnLFWQXEF0hgW3/s640/blogger-image--634857758.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Because none of this had anything to do with interactive art! And it was painfully clear that this speaker's credentials consisted of an RV, a semester of French, and an as-yet-unfunded kickstarter about a character that was not his intellectual property in the first place. Living authentically, my ass.</div><div><br></div><div>So I'm going to do it for him. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">In a completely opposite way from his line of thinking. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">First, asking for consent before you "think a thought" or take any photo at all stifles artistic expression, appreciation, and documentation, while undermining the experience of interactive art that takes place at a comic con. Sure, use your goddamned common sense and ask permission before you grab Thor's junk through his spandex or shove your GoPro up on Hawkgirl for video of her cleavage. But let's take this guy (or gal--or fuck that shit, I'm calling this person a guy regardless of their gender). </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOPNauAlZ94g6jsOjtZcZyc5Cr_JHD4USZT2Zw308PCuQEWTti3xTTV0JS4VssEVY_f31oCtC7nCVPCkf7FMF934TXH9NVFifi-UmjdEEqqGhDfJLpojjwqcFlmUVB3f0za6q05Jcs60v/s640/blogger-image-1621795885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQOPNauAlZ94g6jsOjtZcZyc5Cr_JHD4USZT2Zw308PCuQEWTti3xTTV0JS4VssEVY_f31oCtC7nCVPCkf7FMF934TXH9NVFifi-UmjdEEqqGhDfJLpojjwqcFlmUVB3f0za6q05Jcs60v/s640/blogger-image-1621795885.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">How fucking cool is that? That, my friend, is the very definition of<i> INTERACTIVE, MOMENTARY ART AT A COMIC CON</i>. The costume is homemade but respectably done, and this person just quietly stood up there for a long while as convention attendees filed through the main hallway below, staring menacingly at them. My niece noticed first, let out a startled "Bwhaaah!" and tugged my shoulder, pointing up. I let out a "Bwhaah!" and grabbed my phone--and I did not ask <i>fucking</i> permission to take a <i>fucking</i></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> photo because that would have <i>fucking</i> ruined the moment and experience. Sorry, I get potty-mouthed when shared artistic moments are on the line. Right then, for a second, I shared a moment with my niece, her friend, and a silent stranger on the floor above us, a moment that communicated a feeling and drew upon a shared visual language and common admiration for a truly memorable sci-fi monster in a truly memorable sci-fi show (the silent, stone angels in<i> Dr. Who</i>, in case anyone is wondering). </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">The notion of getting consent before "thinking thoughts" was even more nutty--and while I hope he was being hyperbolic, he really had sounded completely sincere about that. Can you imagine? Thought police are an Orwellian trope that we will hopefully never have to deal with, ever, except in dystopian sci-fi. Jimmy Carter once admitted in a <i>Playboy</i> interview that he had "</font><b><i style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">looked on a lot of women with lust. I've committed adultery in my heart many times.</i></b><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">" He of course caught a lot of flack for that "gaffe," but he was expressing a deeply American sentiment that should have been applauded. He, and you, and I, enjoy freedom of speech, freedom of religion, the pursuit of happiness, and so on--but the freedom of <i>thought</i> is really the most basic. It takes place in your head and bothers no one (except the owner of the thoughts, which is you and only you). Every person in the world has the right to lust after anyone they want, any time they want. Thoughts are 100% your own and should be UNBOUNDED, UNBRIDLED, and UNPOLICED. Art results from unrestricted thoughts--creativity dies in an Orwellian landscape. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">If someone <i>acts</i> on a thought, that's where you run into trouble. As grownups (or really, kids beyong the age of reason, whatever age that may be), we need to learn how to think thoughts--or face people expressing their thoughts--and deal with it. There seems an ever-growing effort at shielding people (mostly females, seems like) from offensive thoughts and actions. I'm talking about potentially offensive <i>but not illegal </i>actions here. If you are in a public place, anyone can snap a photo of you, it's legal to do so. If someone wants to compliment your revealing superhero outfit, and your smokin hot superhero body, it's perfectly legal (and often appreciated if done nonthreateningly, with common sense and charm). </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">I have been irked of late by examples of overdoing the effort to "protect" women. Protection at one level is good--let's punish rapists, not blame victims, and toss guys out of cons when they put hands on people. Good, yes. But let's not infantilize women as fragile beings who will be traumatized if we are referred to as "guys," or cannot handle someone verbally expressing how hot they find us, or heaven forbid someone <i>thinks thoughts about us</i> without our consent. </font></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">What's this got to do with art? A surprising amount. Just in the past couple of weeks there have been news stories that show how this creeping mindset narrows peoples' ability to tolerate, much less appreciate, some very rich veins of art. In May, a handful of Columbia undergrads claimed that various stories from Greek mythology should contain trigger warnings as they may be difficult to read for "survivors, persons of color, or students from low-income backgrounds." <i>WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK</i>. Greek mythology? To shy away from that art form as "too difficult to process" is to deny vast landscapes of human nature, history, and expression. I was a student from a low-income background, and it offends me to be lumped into this category. If Greek Mythology is too rapey to handle, just wait till you read the Bible. Or any of the classics of literature that comprise Western thought. Or heaven forbid you set foot in an art museum. Bernini's "Rape of Persephone" takes my breath away and moves me deeply, and if the fact that it depicts a fictional aggressive sex act between two mythological figures shuts down the viewer's cognition and ability to appreciate the piece, then I weep for the narrowing of that person's artistic world.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jYtq8gBLvP_8qubzrI-gagVA3_c0uRqxsfOU0m1Lj7HVMkGltstUd0qFy-fAnmln2sGsci5Gvl-vkGHZhw_P_mawfDTPLXywaHbt7ZkrewBsSLmk1ihWuz_ovFWQ9QVv80HAgTaqF__K/s640/blogger-image--406300714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jYtq8gBLvP_8qubzrI-gagVA3_c0uRqxsfOU0m1Lj7HVMkGltstUd0qFy-fAnmln2sGsci5Gvl-vkGHZhw_P_mawfDTPLXywaHbt7ZkrewBsSLmk1ihWuz_ovFWQ9QVv80HAgTaqF__K/s640/blogger-image--406300714.jpg"></a></div><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">In Connecticut earlier this week, a well-loved AP English teacher with 19 years experience lost his job because he read and discussed an Allen Ginsberg poem that a student had brought to class (these are college-level kids aged 17 and 18). One of the students begged off a test in another class the next day, claiming they could not concentrate because of being exposed to the poem. The teacher's termination letter excoriated him for "placing the emotional health of some students at risk." It made me wonder if the school board members who wrote that termination letter had ever set foot in a high school. If poetry mentioning blow jobs places your emotional health at risk, well, you'd have to avoid every bathroom stall in my old high school. At least Ginsberg's poetry was good enough to start a literary movement, not just kill time while you try to have a movement.</span></div><div><br></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">In a piece for <i>Vox</i> published just today (June 3, 2015), Edward Schlosser talks about the fear college professors have of committing "some simple act of indelicacy that's tantamount to physical assault." He quotes a Northwestern University professor about the current atmosphere:</font><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"> "Emotional discomfort is regarded as equivalent to material injury, and all injuries have to be remediated." The simplistic knee-jerk notion of social justice has compounded with an academic climate where professors are far more easily dismissed (or simply not rehired): Schlosser mentions one adjunct whose contract was not renewed because students complained he exposed them to "offensive" texts by Edward Said and Mark Twain. As a result, material that might emotionally harm sensitive students is being preemptively pruned from course reading, and those in higher education are backing away from the longstanding mission of challenging students' preconceptions, "rocking the boat," shoving young adults out of their comfort zone in order to help them expand their minds. </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Instead, we have "a heavily policed discourse of semantic sensitivity in which safety and comfort have become the ends <i style="box-sizing: border-box;">and</i> the means of the college experience." Important issues are ignored, discussions are curtailed, and enlightenment takes a back seat to sensitivity. As Schlosser concludes, "No one can rebut feelings, and so the only thing left to do is shut down the things that cause distress—no argument, no discussion, just hit the mute button and pretend eliminating discomfort is the same as effecting actual change."</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">One of the reasons I love the little art history and theory discussions at comic cons is that they are little flashbacks to college for me. And that day, I felt like that nostalgic intellectual exercise was being taken away from me because </span><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">this creeping mentality--one that can paralyze actual discourse and thwart our perception of actual art--had seeped into room 143B of Awesome Con, where the white male at the presenter table was wasting all our time apologizing for his white maleness instead of presenting some real scholarly material for discussion. </span></div><div><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Instead of gorging on a mentally satisfying panel discussion, I left hungry and spent time subsequently contemplating what sort of interactive art experiences I've had at cons, and which ones worked and which didn't. The necessary vein of commerce runs through every comic con, and so all of the "professionally created" interactive artistic experiences there are designed to hook you as a consumer; these can range on a spectrum from annoyingly pedestrian to masterfully manipulative. The annoying interactions aren't worth writing about, as you can experience something similar by walking past any time-share sales booth. The more creative ones stick with you though. At SDCC 2013, I came upon a "Machine of Death" promotion offering to accurately predict my cause of death--for free!</span></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvLi3FR53ci1_ZnoRv0GVbmvPQTHCU2aXowNqqgj5AjDBzkN1rqqccHXw3CZiYAS10vwN2rop8ZOTBLXrUC1l_celawtjdEz42DUnzyjw4IQA8KdB-wxs0K0pfGBnRuff134GoV6wpgk0r/s640/blogger-image--2007351109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvLi3FR53ci1_ZnoRv0GVbmvPQTHCU2aXowNqqgj5AjDBzkN1rqqccHXw3CZiYAS10vwN2rop8ZOTBLXrUC1l_celawtjdEz42DUnzyjw4IQA8KdB-wxs0K0pfGBnRuff134GoV6wpgk0r/s640/blogger-image--2007351109.jpg"></a></div></div>The kitschy box-like device was an accessory brought by Ryan North, Matthew Bennardo, and David Malki to draw attention to their anthology of short stories, titled "Machine of Death." The machine was manned by a bearded gentleman who explained that the machine needed a drop of blood to predict your death. He took a "blood sample" by "stabbing" your finger with a red sharpie pen, then daubed your ersatz wound with a slip of paper and fed that into the machine. He then</span></font><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> not-so-subtly made beeping and whirring noises as he slid a card from behind the facade through the machine's front slot to answer your fatal query. My card said "from working too hard" which was surprisingly believeable. My companion, Becky, got a card that said "monkeys." Also probably quite likely. And quite memorable, obviously--here I am writing about it some two years later!</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Another interaction that stuck with me happened on Artist's Alley at SDCC that same year or the year before. A young lady sat at her table, the familiar collection of small prints, buttons, and other such marketing detrius scattered in front of her as she scanned the crowds walking by. I lingered for a moment and got a closer look. Her name was E. Guine Thompson, I saw from the display. A small sign next to her button collection said "Free button if you tell me about your scar." I asked her what that was about, and she asked if I had any scars. I showed her the mark in my arm, where a cut had been stitched up back in my childhood. She took out a legal notepad and put a notch under "arm" then asked what had happened. A knife had slipped as I tried to cut a slice of cheese from the top of a block--the most wrong way to cut anything, as I learned. She turned to a different page, scanned over words like "bike," "gun," "swimming pool," and put a notch under "knife." Well, this got me curious.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZFKVmrKqCwz7z_5OvBLRgQIEEdTnuhPofL9FFlV75-NG-fIgnhFTHERGUIb5iVgaFD1KSLgzJOcVlaFiavPm4ET1U0yPqprsag_FApJUhGXG5frwhdFQWz6e-hiywDN4vyaO3ANiHLtDD/s640/blogger-image--652486634.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZFKVmrKqCwz7z_5OvBLRgQIEEdTnuhPofL9FFlV75-NG-fIgnhFTHERGUIb5iVgaFD1KSLgzJOcVlaFiavPm4ET1U0yPqprsag_FApJUhGXG5frwhdFQWz6e-hiywDN4vyaO3ANiHLtDD/s640/blogger-image--652486634.jpg"></a></div></span></div><div>She was working on a project called "Beautiful Scars," she explained, and had decided to use SDCC as a research opportunity. The book was structured as an old man telling his granddaughter about how he got his scars. Each scar on the old man's body told a story. Thompson said that so far, from the responses she'd gathered, she'd learned trees were far more dangerous than she had thought. I then told her about a friend whose uncle had been killed by a tree: chopping down a large tree can be very dangerous if done the wrong way. Pressures can cause the trunk to explode into deadly splinters and shards unexpectedly. We talked of the lurking evil of trees for a moment, she gave me a button, and we parted ways. I considered it an interactive--even a participatory--artistic experience. And if it was clever grassroots marketing too, it worked. I recall the book title, I feel a tiny bit invested in it, and though I've not yet purchased it, it's on my wish list. </div><div><br></div><div>The non-professional interactive artistic experiences at a convention are of near-infinite variety (see the stone angel photo above); and these experiences can be accidental, momentary, ironic, original, or simply an impressive show of skill. Art begs judgment. Art asks for a reaction, it exists to elicit a reaction. One can even argue that a creation can be judged as "art" on the basis of whether it evokes judgment and commentary. So forbidding judgment and commentary at what is a walking art show seems asenine to me. The notion of a con being some "judgment-free zone" is nonsense. I mean come on, there's costume contests with formalized judging in place! I would have been less irritated if the aforementioned speaker had just said that people at cons tend to be nice, like-minded nerds and won't poke fun at you (to your face anyway) if your costume sucks. But when I stop someone and say "Wow, did you buy that or knit it yourself? Oh that's so nice, great job, I love it!" that's judging. Just, I judge it to be exemplary work. When you stop someone in a homemade costume and ask them if you can get a photo of them (or with them), that's judging too. And people put effort and thought and money into their comic con outfits just for that very reason. If you go to the trouble of making a costume, finding a photo of yourself on an online compilation feels like a gold star, a little bit of recognition from the world. If you are the type of person to get incensed at that and say "But I never gave that person consent to photograph me!" then just stay home, the con is not a place for you.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMfs_2TRMSM5iMfYOJdX7BIj6aRRTD6Za56IMwJPYF0VbiMqn2rou1uG_ZpEsPUaIS98k3uK8TkApnkHkUQLB54Ml_M2JBeeOeF0jUQTsRCuDRPadLb83ck6ErfnfY9kuOQZngyHEc10Z/s640/blogger-image-1141050184.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMfs_2TRMSM5iMfYOJdX7BIj6aRRTD6Za56IMwJPYF0VbiMqn2rou1uG_ZpEsPUaIS98k3uK8TkApnkHkUQLB54Ml_M2JBeeOeF0jUQTsRCuDRPadLb83ck6ErfnfY9kuOQZngyHEc10Z/s640/blogger-image-1141050184.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>A trio from "Bob's Burgers" and a Captain America knit vest worn by the maker, both from Awesome Con, and Deadpool being his typical self at SDCC. </i></div><br></div><div>The knitted superhero tributes, the genderbent character costumes, the dumpy guy who has squeezed into a storebought kid's Spiderman costume for comedic effect, the well-planned group effort ensemble costumes, the intricate creations of foam and cardboard: all can be looked at as art, and the moment you interact with the people behind the cosplay, it's interactive art. Deadpool has become the clichéd Comic Con jester, with multiple Deadpools populating every con these days, some altered, some genderbent, some with a particular slant or crossover--but most are acting like the jerky clown Deadpool has come to represent, jumping uninvited into other peoples' photos, using sarcastic word bubbles, and quite often acting in a sexualized way that might really traumatize those students who were rattled by Ginsberg's poem or the more agressive stories from Greek mythology. The only time at SDCC you won't see a bunch of roving, pesky Deadpools is during the scheduled Deadpool group photo. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSvMcKgOa0SgOO3_JZ4zhOZSrN9gNpNbtNZ1P2Ba9vUd2uJJcab1B-w4Mal5kHLG30xZKD5kuaHt5S47y33DHFDP4pbpJOTid3O9qcYBJz3Eg1CruUWE8YCU_Thnc5VgEvuSb5IWxXgkDS/s640/blogger-image--1548019063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSvMcKgOa0SgOO3_JZ4zhOZSrN9gNpNbtNZ1P2Ba9vUd2uJJcab1B-w4Mal5kHLG30xZKD5kuaHt5S47y33DHFDP4pbpJOTid3O9qcYBJz3Eg1CruUWE8YCU_Thnc5VgEvuSb5IWxXgkDS/s640/blogger-image--1548019063.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><div>As this clip from a popular viral gif shows, cosplayers sometimes come together and can create some impromptu art. At Awesome Con, I was admiring a band of heavy-set, punked out Disney princesses when a prim and proper group of very elegant, hoop-skirted Disney princesses walked by. The two groups waved and said hello to each other, which was cute. As I passed the punked princess group, I said "awww, I kinda wanted to see you guys fight them," and the punk Snow White said "Oh my god, we totally should have!" I could tell her gears were turning. There would be a mock princess battle later that day, I was pretty sure. </div><div><br></div><div>And if heavy-set punk Disney princesses fighting elegant ladylike Disney princesses isn't Art with a capital A, then I guess I don't know what art is, ladies and gentlemen. And if I'm lucky to be anywhere nearby when something like that happens, I'm taking photos--<i>WITHOUT</i> getting consent from each and every princess there. Hell, I might just <i>BE</i> one of the princesses. And that, my dears, is how you do interactive art at a Comic Con. </div></div>CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-11470838371885201112015-05-02T01:55:00.000-07:002015-05-02T02:24:20.685-07:00On Being a Girl Carny ArtistWarning: this post contains descriptions of adult situations. I did not pretty things up for mass consumption. If you are easily offended, clickey thyself elsewhere. It was inspired by Ali Thome's recent podcast episode "Girlcast," about adventures she and her cohorts have had on the road, as females in this peculiar trade of ours. If you haven't yet, check out <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/its-supposed-to-be-funny/id955580145?mt=2">"It's Supposed to Be Funny"</a> and give a listen. Tip of the hat, Ali, you gave me pause to think and as a result I regurgitated all this stuff below.<br />
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Okay, I may get some flack for admitting this. Sometimes I read accounts of sexual harassment online and it's very hard for me to take the complaint seriously. It's not cool to bash women who have been victimized--but I'm not talking about rape victims, or those who have faced serious bullying, or been held back at a job unfairly, or groped/fondled/kissed against their will. That shit is serious, I do not smirk at that. I also have sympathy for women (I know a few) who get exposed to the not-so-gentlemanly side of the male gender on a regular basis, and for them it can become like a constantly irritated wound, with salt getting rubbed in over and over and over again. There are go-go dancers, strippers, and hostesses out there who are one more leer or "Hey baby, smile!" away from just snapping. I understand that.<br />
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But in my experience, unless you have lived a very sheltered life, it is not crippling to be around someone who makes a dirty joke or says the hair on your drink looks like a short-n-curly. (And if you are that sheltered, you best unshelter yourself as quick as possible.) Nor is it going to scar you if someone invites you to a threesome. And if you object, have the lady balls to say "Hey, you are grossing me out, go away!" before feeling victimized and harassed. <br />
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And maybe I developed this not-very-sensitive attitude because of my job. This job involves a massive amount of close interaction with the public. And the public contains a massive amount of douchebags, creeps, and horny guys. And as a girl caricature artist, you run into them. As a GUY caricature artist you run into them! Not only do you run into them, you have to stare at them for five or ten minutes, like directly at them, and make small talk while you study their features.<br />
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<h3>
Eye Contact, EEEEEEEK!</h3>
It's become a rare and weird and intimate thing, eye contact. In fact, a couple of psychologists ran a study and concluded that <a href="http://bigthink.com/ideafeed/how-to-fall-in-love-36-questions-and-deep-eye-contact">four minutes of eye contact (plus 36 questions) is a "recipe for falling in love."</a> Oh, the tragedy! I must have made so many unsuspecting people fall in love with me over the years! I'm sorry, guys and gals! I really am!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ii3qPMs9eHVNRGj_wl_4IvXPrY5SF3VGTJSlFVXZ_STuoBaRZk-2z1dIjhjeFaZpyIbk6cJJl_GRWAQtQeHtijkQVRJ9-fJti21bGfzVqq7Dz_V0eSMCh-RaPdTqkpB3bdmX9Gfe9I3v/s1600/FrenchGirls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ii3qPMs9eHVNRGj_wl_4IvXPrY5SF3VGTJSlFVXZ_STuoBaRZk-2z1dIjhjeFaZpyIbk6cJJl_GRWAQtQeHtijkQVRJ9-fJti21bGfzVqq7Dz_V0eSMCh-RaPdTqkpB3bdmX9Gfe9I3v/s1600/FrenchGirls.jpg" height="248" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, he looks kinda like the last guy that hit on me at the fair.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But it's more intimate than just mindlessly looking at someone. If
you're a good caricature artist, or even just hoping to be a good
caricature artist, you <i>study</i> your model. And if they have half a brain, they can <i>tell</i> you are studying them. As writer Mandy Len Catron summed up, during her staring-leads-to-love experiment: <i>"The real crux of the moment was not just that I was really seeing someone, but that I was seeing someone really seeing me."</i> Human beings yearn to be understood, to be really <i>seen</i>
by another person. There is a long and storied history of painters
making mistresses of their models, and it's become a tired, hackneyed
trope to see a romance develop because some fellow who decides to draw a
beautiful girl. As the cliche goes, she is flattered and touched at
being a "muse" for the high purpose of art. Cue music and we see Kate
Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio . . . <br />
<br />
Anyway, I can assure you this is not a trait possessed by only female models. Eye contact and the type of involved, studious gaze that develops when you draw someone can entice, beguile, or just frighten male models too. One fellow, after I drew his caricature, asked if there was any way I would consider drawing him a nude--I told him I could certainly draw something like that, and he said, "Great, how do you want to do this, shall I get a motel, would that work?" Huh what? Oh no, I explained that I was just thinking he meant he wanted a silly little naked body on his big-head-little-body cartoon. Turned out he wanted the full "Draw me like one of your French girls experience" (which I don't offer!). At the last trade show I worked, I drew a middle-aged Indian man who looked terribly uncomfortable then finally blurted out, embarrassed: "I'm sorry! I just have never stared at any other woman this long except my wife!" I assured him I was a professional, and his wife would not mind, and the poor guy made it through the drawing. Still, I felt sort of guilty! At another event, a couple years ago, a West African man stared back at me just as intently as I was staring at him, and announced to me, in his exotic accent: "I have never been looked at like this, stared at in this way. It feels very sensual." The unnerving part was we were in a "gentleman's club" (I had been hired as part of their anniversary bash) . . . so, while two topless ladies danced nearby, this fellow was actually getting his jollies just be having me--overweight, fully clothed, <i>so not sexy</i> me--stare at him! The power of eye contact, I tell you what, it's intense.<br />
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We are looking at features, but where does the face end and the soul begin? Eyes are called the windows to the soul for a reason. It can be an immediate, intense connection drawing someone. Or it can be a moment made awkward if you are just going through the motions but your subject is feeling an emotional connection that seems natural in such a situation. One friend of mine said the job often reminded him of a scene in the Robin Williams-Al Pacino movie "Insomnia": The creepy self-obsessed serial killer, played by Williams, is reveling in the attention he gets as he is questioned by the haggard, worn-down detective played by Pacino. The killer suggests that Pacino's character must be fascinated by the cat-and-mouse game, the intricacies of how a killer's mind works, the dark soul beneath it all, the complexity . . . and Pacino shrugs and simply explains that it's a job. "You are about as complicated as a blocked toilet is to a plumber," he mumbles to a very disappointed Williams. <br />
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<h3>
Unintended Intimacy</h3>
So what happens sometimes when we lady artists stare at guys, again, in the general public, and some of them get the wrong idea? Well, just like bartenders, waitresses, and female concierges, if you are skillful you might parlay that experience into a nice generous tip--JUST a tip. But more often it's not just a tip (make your own jokes here folks). I've never been handed a $100 tip and a room key, but I know girls who have had that happen. Smart, practical chicks in this town tend to pocket both with a smile but only use one. Nevertheless I have been propositioned, asked if I want to "come party" after my shift, discreetly asked out, and sometimes offered sex rudely, crudely, and with no social grace. Maybe it's just the allure of Vegas, but the volume got turned up on that shit once I started working here. People think they get a pass on acting like sex-crazed drunken fools once they step off the plane. <br />
<br />
The most egregious example happened at the Venetian Casino and Resort, where I drew a guy and his wife, made some small chit-chat as I do, and he interrupts with "Do you think my wife is attractive?" I answered neutrally, trying to sway things to the artistic sense of appreciation: "Oh, she has great features, I'm having fun drawing you both!" He took that as some kind of go-ahead sign and then started asking if I was into anal sex. And his wife sat there nonchalantly smiling at me the whole time, like he was talking about the weather or something. I think he eloquently put it something like this: "Hey, you're cute. And I bet you take it up the ass, right? You into that? We are. We're staying here at this hotel, you know." Now, I'll admit his (attempted) launch into my colo-rectal region flustered me a little at first. The look on my face was probably WHAT THE FUCK mixed with a little blushing. But I was mostly done with the drawing, and my goal quickly shifted to getting their money as quickly as possible and avoiding any sort of scene or complaint or report involving paperwork. Sure, I could have ejected them from the booth, or threatened to call security. But this guy was just asking questions so far, and it's legal to do that, and I'm a grownup. So I smiled, said "Wow, you guys get personal quick! I've only known you for ten minutes!" I forget the details, but he continued trying to fluster (or seduce) me, failing at both, and in record time I got their fucking $35 and away they went. It was a small victory, but it sure made for an interesting story when I got home from work.<br />
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<h3>
Small Talk and Using Your Intuition </h3>
I have heard many colleagues admit that our jobs consist of drawing and flirting. The art of small talk is (or at least can be) very flirtatious. Especially if you work just a little blue, as I sometimes do if it's an adult crowd. It's a harmless sort of charged banter, I like to think, and we all get pretty comfortable doing it after a few years--or decades--interacting with our models and the crowd that watches. Being observant visually is stock and trade for any artist; and, I notice, many of us that make this our career are not just visually observant but psychologically observant too. (Or at least, I like to think I am, on a good day anyway.) That makes us very good at the small talk aspect of things. Asking the typical questions ("Where ya from? What do you do?") can sometimes snowball into deep conversations--and it's surprising what I've been party too over the years! Miniature therapy sessions sometimes result, where I end up consoling someone on a loss, or offering life advice, or pep talks, or just impressing someone with what seems like amazing insight but is actually just observation. I'm not saying "wow look at how amazing I am because when I talk to people this happens" . . . I'm quite sure many, even most, artists that work with the public have this happen if they are chatty and talk to their models. Observation plus conversation are a potent combination, they unlock many defenses. <br />
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I'll also admit to consciously using some of the same techniques phony psychics (a redundant phrase) use in their parlor tricks. <a href="http://skepdic.com/coldread.html">"Cold reading"</a> is when someone fishes around for information and the mark gives out clues without realizing it--or even blurts out stuff that they completely forget they said later. I don't try to pretend I'm psychic, that would be immoral and wrong (though maybe profitable), but I've been accused of it. I have astounded some with my "woman's intuition" merely because I remembered some tidbit the person mentioned seven or eight minutes prior. And--another cold reading technique--I've also played the statistics. Just like in any given room of a hundred people you're likely to have a few that have deceased loved ones that "start with the letter M," you are also pretty likely to get a "hit" if you guess that the gentleman in front of you with a crew cut, muscular physique, and conservative style of dress is a vacationing police officer.<br />
<br />
Most of the psychics working today are females, which some take as evidence that "women are more likely to embrace
their intuition as a fact of nature and they communicate more easily” with other realms (per the <a href="http://blog.californiapsychics.com/blog/2009/09/male-vs-female-psychics-2.html">California Psychics</a>). As a female who draws people and works at carnivals, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this gender disparity in psychics is maybe due to differences in the sexes when it comes to our <i>brains</i>, not our <i>auras</i>. Women, as a whole, might just be a smidge better at reading people and getting folks to open up. That's just a hunch based on my experiences in the chair and what I see happen with other female artists versus our male counterparts. I have no empirical data but I'd bet I could mine some . . . another day, another blog post. <br />
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<h3>
"Excuse Me Miss, When Will the Artist Be Back?"</h3>
One of the drawbacks to being a female in the caricature booth is that aggravating tendency some folks have of assuming that you are not the artist. Granted, there are more men than women in this business, so people are making that guess based on real numbers. I suppose it's similar to what female doctors had to deal with back when most of the graduates coming out of med school had penises. I'd bet many ladies in the medical ranks had to spend time explaining to confused patients that they were not, in fact, the nurse or secretary. And I'd bet male manicurists are often asked if the lady who does nails is on break (I have seen that happen, actually, last time I got my nails done--they assumed he was a repairman, not a nail technician). <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDDYrqRfWYA2r2qVAfIhIOinjSK5aUBm2jxwwAW0Ec631mOYQQt-7jrSlgBV_eowrAjN9RWIZjPoPuGJdvm1hTzlkG8DiLyCNTxqf8wfsQENxnCNe1dlfyiEU0ZFb4RsMxb38IHPAaIzs/s1600/blog-apron.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDDYrqRfWYA2r2qVAfIhIOinjSK5aUBm2jxwwAW0Ec631mOYQQt-7jrSlgBV_eowrAjN9RWIZjPoPuGJdvm1hTzlkG8DiLyCNTxqf8wfsQENxnCNe1dlfyiEU0ZFb4RsMxb38IHPAaIzs/s1600/blog-apron.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a>Likewise, I've had to explain that I am not, in fact, the cashier or the booth helper girl who sweeps up. I'm not just minding the stand while "the artist" is on break. It might just be the fact that I'm aging, and no longer look like a wide-eyed teenaged girl who must be an unskilled booth monkey, but it seems to (thankfully) happen way less often than it used to. And, from the demographics at ISCA, it does appear that more females are taking up the caricature business, so yay for that! But it does still happen sometimes, and it can be irksome. Particularly when I suspect is has lost me money (losing money is VERY irksome!). I remember folks telling me they'd walked by a few times and wondered when the artist would be back, when all the while I'd been there, sitting at the bloody easel, waiting for customers! They had looked right at me and had only seen a cashier. How many people, I then wonder, walked by a few times then gave up, assuming this mysterious male caricature artist would never come back? This worry drove me to doodle as much as I could while I sat idle, so as to visually demonstrate I'm the frigging artist, and I even own aprons now that say "CARICATURE ARTIST" on the front. <br />
<br />
Better yet, if there are two of you, people seem to assume that the female artist must be the wife or girlfriend of the male artist. They ask, while chatting, if we are together, etc., and it can be hilariously awkward depending on who I'm working with. Maybe they sense the easy-going rapport we co-artists usually have (especially when you're on the road with people and sharing a camper for a long stretch of time). Sometimes this has come in handy . . . one late night at a fair I was closing up and told a couple there was no time for any more (and frankly, I thought I was being quite nice and businesslike, not rude at all). They waited around after I'd packed up and then approached my coworker--who happened to be a large, imposing Slovak who has the male version of resting bitch face. They complained to him that the woman in the chair next to him had said she was all done, no more drawings, and they added (for extra points) that I'd been a real bitch about it and they didn't like the way I drew anyway, they wanted him. My fellow carny had my back: without flinching a muscle on his face, he glared at them and boomed, "You mean <i>my wife?</i>" He said they scurried for the hills without another word. <br />
<br />
Of course, about ten years ago I went and made all those aggravating assumptions true by marrying a coworker. Shows what I know. And, to his credit, Rob is always quick to point out that he's learned from me and we both had been doing caricatures for ten years prior to even meeting--see, because another assumption you run into as a girl caricature artist is that you've been trained by your husband. And, well, I <i>have</i> learned a lot from Robert, but I did not arrive to him a blank feminine slate ready to be filled with his masculine art knowledge, thankyouverymuch. <br />
<br />
<h3>
"I Want the Girl to Draw Me."</h3>
The flip side of this assumption occurs when you're NOT the only artist in the booth. Something different happens when you're working alongside a dude, or a few dudes, and you get people walking up and figuring out which artist they want (an annoying thing in itself, makes you feel like you're in an Amsterdam red light district window waiting to be chosen). Male artists all seem to agree on this, and I'll admit they have it right: folks often prefer the lady. For dumb reasons. <br />
<br />
Moms think you'll be better able to command their kids' attention; young (and old) women think you'll be "nicer" to their features because you're a woman too; guys would rather stare at you than at another guy. It doesn't happen all the time every time, but it occurs. Enough to be an annoyance. And yeah, it annoys me too: I don't want to have someone insist on sitting for me just because of my gender.<br />
<br />
And there have been times that a male artist has just <i>assumed</i> that someone sat for me because "Oh they just wanted the girl," when in actuality the person watched, asked about samples, and seemed to honestly like my work better. A lousy male artist who does not realize he is lousy will sometimes blame his shift of low sales on <i>your</i> gender--which is not cool. None of my respected peers or friends have done this, and I'd be safe guessing that no one reading this blog has done it (because if you seek out caricature blogs you probably care about the craft). But I've worked with a LOT of artists over the years and quite a handful of them were shitty and didn't last in the business. Funny though, shitty artists are good at finding every conceivable excuse as to why people don't like their artwork, and whenever the "Oh it's just because you're a girl" card came up it made me roll my eyes in frustration. If I'm working next to Tom Richmond and someone walks up and chooses me, damn right it's because I'm the girl. But if I'm working next to Joey Thinks-He's-Great-But-Can't-Draw-Fer-Shit, guess what Joe? People preferring me has nothing to do with my tits. <br />
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<h3>
No Touchy! </h3>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiElGWDHyy6udHlCYc8N9GWWZb24CpquCcYx-Nikel1V0hss8w0gQLzEyuQxP1G_X5M7vYJ9v3XTGXxi4CIrnWxc9b4MelpxLFW8g85P5QOQPsQTDpOeypLsEqMHMv_fHbip4yBJE1xJBex/s1600/notouchy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiElGWDHyy6udHlCYc8N9GWWZb24CpquCcYx-Nikel1V0hss8w0gQLzEyuQxP1G_X5M7vYJ9v3XTGXxi4CIrnWxc9b4MelpxLFW8g85P5QOQPsQTDpOeypLsEqMHMv_fHbip4yBJE1xJBex/s1600/notouchy.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>One other part of working at the average state fair or local youth fair is that you become part of the interactive exhibits, or at least some people THINK you are. I'm not into being touched unexpectedly by strangers. Few people are. Yet it's amazing how many people don't even think twice about running their hand along your back, or patting you in a congratulatory way, or tugging on your shoulder <i>while you are drawing someone</i>. The typical "booth heckler" will come by and gently tease you as you work, sometimes, then say "awwww I'm just funnin' with ya!" as they close in for the dreaded <i>conciliatory back rub and shoulder squeeze</i>. And it's quite often a creepy older dude. And he rubs a<i> little</i> too long. And it's creepy. And if you go to a fair please don't do this. To any carnies. You have no idea what you might catch. My only defense during this type of thing has been to flash my customers a "ew-gross-help-me-please-make-him-stop-I-don't-want-to-embarrass-the-guy-but-are-you-seeing-this?!?" look, which often cracks them up a bit. So yeah, this little tidbit of sexual harassment can actually enhance my patter with the people I'm drawing. Call me a traitor to the feminist cause, but I say make use of what you can. It's a trade-off. <br />
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A secondary type of this touchy touchy stuff is older ladies. They sometimes mistake the artists (not just women artists, the guys too) for cats. They wander over and coo about how wonderful it is that we are talented, and they pet us. The old lady variety of backrub is less creepy, but it tends to last longer and still has an uncomfortable tinge to it. And the smell of menthol and Estee Lauder really lingers. <br />
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<h3>
Some Stories on Being Female in the Carnival (and Elsewhere) </h3>
A group of carnies (or, as we prefer,<i> carnival-Americans</i>) is just like any other social group. Relationships do form, dating happens, people hook up, unhook, attempt to hook up, and so on. When I first started working the fair circuit, I wasn't sure what to expect. You stay in a trailer park area where tons of transient workers gather for a couple of weeks and hunker down in a very small space. A friend in the business once referred to the rougher side of the carny park (where the ride operators camped) as "The World's Largest Traveling Prison." Sometimes you have to walk across this trailer park in your bathrobe and jammies to get to the communal shower area/laundry room. Sometimes you get complimented on how you fold laundry by a shirtless guy who's staring a bit too long at your undergarments. Diminutive flowers of femininity need not apply. So, in other words, I've seen some stuff. Thankfully not stuff that ever seriously frightened or harmed me. Just stuff that makes for good stories.<br />
<br />
Walking back from the laundry room one evening I passed one of the housing trucks--these semi trailers are basically motels on wheels: they have several extremely tiny cubbyholes that serve as living quarters, each scarcely wider than the door that leads into it. That night, one of the doors was open and a young man inside was dancing to loud salsa music, by himself, shirtless. He saw me walk by and motioned me in to join him. I shook my head, and kept walking, wishing he hadn't noticed me looking (kinda hard not to look, he was dancing energetically and it drew the eye over). Not one to accept defeat, he grabbed a can of Pringles off his dresser and shook it at me, invitingly, trying to lure me into his sardine tin of love. I shook my head again with a smile and kept walking back to my trailer. After telling my roommates about the little interaction, they laughed hard. "He shook it at you? Like a can of cat treats???" "Heeere pussy pussy pussy, ha ha ha!" "And that didn't work?" "Well, no, luckily they weren't the Cheez-Ums, just regular Pringles, so I was able to resist his oily charms."<br />
<br />
Another fellow surprised me with his patience--and he was not a carny but a fairgoer. We'd had a short conversation the year before, and he ended up mentioning something about caramel bugles and I was like "Whaaat? I've never seen those, I don't think they have them where I live." Well, a YEAR goes by, and he shows up at the booth with a bag that contained two boxes of caramel bugles, asking if I remembered having that conversation with him. He hands them to me and says "My phone number is also in there too, if you care to use it." I gotta say, it was actually pretty smooth--I told him that was a very sweet gesture (literally) but I was a married gal. He politely still insisted I take the bugles to share with my campermates. And yes, my coworkers did get <i>even more</i> enjoyment out of the new installment of "Guys at the Fair Attempting to Woo Celestia with Snack Foods." <br />
<br />
At the other carnival I work at, the one that's operating 24-7-365, I did have a much bolder and ruder interaction. While leaving a shift at Planet Hollywood in Las Vegas, I ended up on a parking garage escalator near a young man (maybe early to mid 20s). A larger fellow, and African-American, he seemed the typical friendly tourist type. With each floor he got a little closer, but not in a menacing way. He flashed a flirty smile and asked my name. I said "I'm Celeste, I work here," and it was in a tired, disinterested tone that should have indicated that I wasn't a tourist cougar, I was just a local getting off work, move along, these aren't the droids you're looking for. Instead, he got off on the same floor as I did and walked next to me, and next thing I knew there was a hand on my ass.<br />
<br />
I'm trying to remember exactly what I said to him at that moment . . . oh yeah it was super loud and something along the lines of "GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" He shrank back and said "But, I thought, I mean, I thought we were friends," to which I said "TELLING YOU MY NAME DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO PUT HANDS ON MY ASS, WHO THE HELL RAISED YOU? YOU DON'T TOUCH A WOMAN YOU JUST FUCKING MET!"And he shrank back, cringing at my volley and scurrying away. In his face, I saw a confused, hurt look that made me think maybe this young man was on the spectrum. He may very well have had Asberger's or something that made him unaware of social cues; or he may have been a presumptuous asshole who fondled women on escalators. I'll never know. Hopefully, either way, I left some kind of impression on him so that he won't freely do the same thing to a younger, less mouthy woman. <br />
<br />
<h3>
Guys Don't Have to Deal with This Shit . . . Except They DO </h3>
So far, from what I observe (and what Rob tells me), guys are certainly not immune to the unwanted backrubs or the trapped feeling you get from having to stay at the booth while a booth groupie chats you up. But is that all? I asked around, and sure enough, guys I work with have also been asked to threesomes, playfully propositioned by cougars, an flirted with on a regular basis while in the chair. Nothing to ever take seriously, though, and certainly nothing that made them feel threatened. <br />
<br />
I heard about an incident at the last fair I worked, a story from coworkers, that made me start seeing this whole aspect of sexual harassment and awkward interactions from a different perspective. A male caricature artist I work with got his junk grabbed. This was not at the fair I was working, and I did not witness it, but I heard about it from others who work the circuit with him (and they were giggling as they recounted the story). Now, having your privates grabbed is straight-up assault. If someone did that to a woman there would be yelling and shoving and righteous anger, and possibly charges filed. But instead there were giggles. This artist, who I'm not going to name, is a small, diminutive fellow, who was standing on the rig to undo some canvas bungees. His hands were busy and his crotch was sitting there unprotected as he balanced. Some teenaged girl (or early twenties maybe, no one was sure) ran by and grabbed his unit, yelling "Ha ha! Got yer dick!" and then ran off laughing like she had just playfully honked a clown nose. <br />
<br />
Now, this artist who got man-handled at the fair was a 50-year-old married fellow who was not exactly "asking for it." I wondered how much unreported stuff like this went on with other guys I worked with. The very next person I asked was a younger (30-ish) handsome fellow who works with crowds along the Las Vegas Strip. He's only been in town for a month or so. As nonchalantly as I could manage, I asked him if he'd ever had his gonads groped while on the job. "Oh yeah, twice," he answered, like it was no big deal. That was a surprise. In his short time here, he's had two instances of other people, uninvited, grabbing his bait and tackle. He shrugged it off: "Well my job is practically to flirt, and I approach people like this," (here he opened up his arms as a typical carnival barker would, a move that did indeed leave his groin unprotected). "Of course," I agreed, "and look at how you're dressed, you're practically asking for it!" He caught the sarcasm, he's no dummy. The first instance, he continued, was a group of party girls who surrounded him and got grabby. The second instance, which he seemed much less comfortable about, was a creepy homeless guy who frequents the area. "I physically had to shove him off me, and he still wanders around here from time to time."<br />
<br />
So, clearly, we ladies who work with the public don't have the market cornered when it comes to being victimized in a way that involves their privates . . . but the difference in how the instances were looked at was interesting. Can you imagine a woman giggling or acting like it's no big deal when talking about some strange guy grabbing their (or their friend's) vagina at work one day? I'm not saying it's impossible to sexually assault a man--it most certainly is. Go to the internet and you can find scores of stories about men raped by other men, by women, by spouses, by bosses, who rightly feel humiliated and violated. The very fact that society tends to look at dick-grabbing as a thing to giggle about rather than prosecute adds to humiliation felt by male victims.<br />
<br />
Of course, the context matters, and how uncomfortable something makes you depends on the power relationship and how threatened one party feels. As a loud woman who is nearly 5'10" and outweighs most typical guys, I very rarely feel physically threatened. And after decades of hearing all the stuff you hear when working in a tourist area or carnival, there isn't much that can verbally throw me off my mojo either.<br />
<br />
Maybe, just maybe, in addition to self-defense classes, all women could benefit from working at a carnival or two. It helps you grow some lady balls if you don't already have them. And if we really want equality in sexual relations, in addition to teaching our sons about respect, boundaries, and date rape, we also need to teach our daughters that it's not cool to grab some guy's cock and yell "Got yer dick!" then run away. <br />
<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com103tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-50448690832040353782015-04-13T02:21:00.001-07:002015-04-13T20:06:58.593-07:00Miami Fair: Bodacious Butts, Contagious Colds, Creepy Clowns, Happy Lesbians, and Stockholm SyndromeAh, Miami. I got back just several days ago, back to the sweet, sweet desert where humidity is low and eyebrow maintenance is not the number-one priority for most residents.<br />
<br />
Yes, all eyebrows were "on fleek" in Miami. To the point where I began to grit my teeth every time I heard some girl exclaim that. It's amazing how two words can sound like bizarre new slang one day and sound like a tired, hackneyed phrase just a few weeks later.<br />
<br />
But despite my sarcastic complaints, South Florida really does have its perks. And its perky body parts. See, it's a melting pot of South American, Latin, Caribbean, African, and all sorts of people. I could go into history and culture and race and genetics, but I'm not playing the academic here. I'm looking at it from a cartoonist's point of view. OH MY GOD, THE BUTTS! Sooooo many different kinds. The big booties, the little booties, the angular booties, the pert booties on tall volleyball-player-looking Amazons, the muscular booties on trans women so gorgeous it makes you feel inferior to be cis, the droopy bums on ladies whose salsa-dancing days are behind them, the perfectly round bubble booties, the booties that looked like they'd been drawn by <a href="http://www.comicbookresources.com/?page=article&id=54990">Milo Manara</a>, the booties that looked suspiciously like they'd been enhanced.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqqtwfxq0_kQY_D2NdUhQMi1RMms95RuUrzzVGZJTGzmafpdYQ4to3uLM313AGpTds4IuDPzAaMACILsz-hjjwt4zlbOCIYF34LcnX4e1cI3O_jfOF3vOhZ4yQdHUGMDIJfaBTkded3gq/s1600/MiamiButts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZqqtwfxq0_kQY_D2NdUhQMi1RMms95RuUrzzVGZJTGzmafpdYQ4to3uLM313AGpTds4IuDPzAaMACILsz-hjjwt4zlbOCIYF34LcnX4e1cI3O_jfOF3vOhZ4yQdHUGMDIJfaBTkded3gq/s1600/MiamiButts.jpg" height="499" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Yeah, I looked. I had time to look. It was kind of a slow fair. And in one respect I was grateful it was kind of a slow fair--as I caught the mother of all colds during the second week there. Two of our crew had already gotten the virus, and when you stay in close quarters (like a camper with a very small communal space), one disease vector is all you need. I was coughing until my whole body ached, my throat felt like sandpaper, and I apologized to so many of my customers as I gagged and sneezed and hacked my way through their pictures. It was <i>just enough</i> of a cold to make you miserable as you worked, but not enough to pull you completely from the workforce. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotCz18-S5mzBTA1mnQY7RmqnK_c-DrnSkJQcwGyvON6Jx4Qw2agFFLu9Xd3mF2TIDiUfIJYduE7HOnMSMgtfVg4dDqDQoQ6PgBMrBT_nXyMS1_UZ3TqOFenpzWo38XU_P_T506adVDjk9/s1600/blog-chimichurrti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhotCz18-S5mzBTA1mnQY7RmqnK_c-DrnSkJQcwGyvON6Jx4Qw2agFFLu9Xd3mF2TIDiUfIJYduE7HOnMSMgtfVg4dDqDQoQ6PgBMrBT_nXyMS1_UZ3TqOFenpzWo38XU_P_T506adVDjk9/s1600/blog-chimichurrti.jpg" height="320" width="223" /></a>I eventually found my way (or, rather, Sara drove my sick ass) to the Walgreen's clinic, where I paid $120 for a nurse practitioner to look me over, swab me for Strep, and send me off with some prescription cough meds. They seemed to help, or maybe the visit just coincided with the natural end of the virus's reign over my bronchial system.<br />
<br />
The fair was down a bit, in terms of attendance and numbers, and Miami has always had a late-night flavor to it. Lots of sitting around during the daytime hours, then we are always rushed as the last couple hours wind down. The same vendors were there, including Hector and his family, the purveyors of the best chimmichurri-drenched meat in Miami. Anthony Bourdain has not yet found Hector, and that's his loss. He only sets up at the Miami Fair and in one other Florida fair, so if you are in the neighborhood during the right time of year, and you see the little blue-and-white Argentinian Grill, do yourself a favor and try Hector's meat.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZmMrM6RF3NY9XzoU6TaM2V_ooae4g2j2Rvc46zPzk6jJcvPO72sgObBo6w1BcT6_8tNOMFbHTGSHKSw6KLLAAASqHHUhS6yHCZw0VoQz4TMYZLWdDedykq8vf0WrG8Ipcx8m-HMW5iy0_/s1600/blog-mascot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZmMrM6RF3NY9XzoU6TaM2V_ooae4g2j2Rvc46zPzk6jJcvPO72sgObBo6w1BcT6_8tNOMFbHTGSHKSw6KLLAAASqHHUhS6yHCZw0VoQz4TMYZLWdDedykq8vf0WrG8Ipcx8m-HMW5iy0_/s1600/blog-mascot.jpg" height="320" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy didn't even pay. He just <br />
squeaked and waved at us. Jerk.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This year there were a few changes. A couple of Miami Fair mascots bobbed their way around the fairgrounds, scaring the utter shit out of some of the kids. All the adults just felt sorry for whomever was stuffed inside those costumes during the hot, humid Miami afternoons. There was a butterfly habitat, where you could dip Q-tips into sugar water and feed the monarchs that flew around the bus-sized enclosure, trying to avoid the already sugared-up toddlers trying to grab them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3i_KNg2dArhbzzFYqHEHWIo0ah1Oewb8U-uSzU4CnVMmyk2NYetJZZY-NWju2qS37uYh1dg1cJsKHT_zvsUX97_AZyo91BWzZ_OWv2TOsEcWtwbAugoeGpS4UyxyXf36SpG9FeMEXd8a/s1600/blog-butterfly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu3i_KNg2dArhbzzFYqHEHWIo0ah1Oewb8U-uSzU4CnVMmyk2NYetJZZY-NWju2qS37uYh1dg1cJsKHT_zvsUX97_AZyo91BWzZ_OWv2TOsEcWtwbAugoeGpS4UyxyXf36SpG9FeMEXd8a/s1600/blog-butterfly.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fuck you, but gently,<br />
like a butterfly.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
2015 also presented us with a unique scheduling twist: we actually all had four "days off," when everything was closed up. So for the first and last Monday/Tuesday we enjoyed a short respite from the carny life and got to go play Florida tourists. In those precious days off, several of us squeezed in a night-time fishing trip, a tour of the Everglades, and a night in South Beach. During that last week, we even got to spend time with <a href="http://www.alrodstudio.com/">Al-Rod</a> and <a href="http://michaelwhiteart.biz/">Michael White</a>, two awesome Florida artists and longtime <a href="http://www.caricature.org/">ISCA</a> pals. That last day off was really a perfect day, and even worth the wicked sunburn I ended up with (despite multiple applications of SPF bazillion).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid3CEfiw7XEdvWgbPbud5gAR8Mq1sM4mDmfo_pNE6v5-_5GFBe13vyVrkxpSscoKYiwIhlDu7ydsFpNZuug_5et7J8pEWgItpbAeNw8aiUWWGSs7cATYcGauxa8zqDL0GwcgzazZXdYeHb/s1600/blog-FLtourist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid3CEfiw7XEdvWgbPbud5gAR8Mq1sM4mDmfo_pNE6v5-_5GFBe13vyVrkxpSscoKYiwIhlDu7ydsFpNZuug_5et7J8pEWgItpbAeNw8aiUWWGSs7cATYcGauxa8zqDL0GwcgzazZXdYeHb/s1600/blog-FLtourist.jpg" height="200" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Florida wildlife: Michael White, a gator, and a "grunt" fish.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Which made it all the more difficult to head back to the fair. Workers grumbled that the days off kind of threw their rhythm out of whack. It was unusual, for sure, and I was glad to have the opportunity to go hang out with old pals, but I'm not sure I'd vote for that same structure next time around (ha, like we get a vote). It kind of felt like we were putting the fair-finishing celebration in the middle of the job instead of at the end. I and the other artists (and the rest of the fair folk) are really used to hauling ass for a few weeks and THEN getting time off.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdY30SbU8TuEkfr83u6VISpBSzL2zP87niJmqzr47bzNDG9C09jjY1G3Gg7o_YYES2_I8t1TpUUc5iPiQkqaO3c09wxZRVlLEKKeBYDpfSvp5W8BWYEtiSY6eKXqBvel_O8XZ-AIDbMtr/s1600/blog-ants.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRdY30SbU8TuEkfr83u6VISpBSzL2zP87niJmqzr47bzNDG9C09jjY1G3Gg7o_YYES2_I8t1TpUUc5iPiQkqaO3c09wxZRVlLEKKeBYDpfSvp5W8BWYEtiSY6eKXqBvel_O8XZ-AIDbMtr/s1600/blog-ants.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By Lar de Souza</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Otherwise though, the fair was much as I remembered it from last year. The clickety-clack of marionettes dancing hypnotically in the puppet booth near us. The overpriced fried food. The ants in the camper, and outside the camper, and around the camper. One of my hero artists, Lar de Souza, was moved by my Facebook complaints and kindly drew me as a "Carny Disney Princess" complete with ants and a vegetarian anteater sidekick. That made my week.<br />
<br />
There were also the creepy clown garbage toppers. I have only seem them at Florida fairs, and they just . . . aren't right. In fact, Miami native Al-Rod even mentioned that he'd not been to the fair in years but remembers those things creeping him out as a kid. While they are all over the place in West Palm and Tampa, I only saw a couple of them in Miami. But, to my surprise, I got a photo message from a friend of mine visiting South America during that same stretch of time--and it was a picture of a fucking clown head garbage topper<b><i> in Ecuador</i></b>, where they were "inexplicably and unnervingly everywhere."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEUP7Y8oiW17mhsaDmGFhE4O4psoHlqzlddivPd1kdg-obqceR-pvFAcWE6NtcSx6DJPv7LQwwCGt7yVZ9aTLA5bmpA3JFrBZjANsVL9jiRbF6PktgE64qH6LQPURMARUBni5M1AkH_dv/s1600/blog-REVclowns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYEUP7Y8oiW17mhsaDmGFhE4O4psoHlqzlddivPd1kdg-obqceR-pvFAcWE6NtcSx6DJPv7LQwwCGt7yVZ9aTLA5bmpA3JFrBZjANsVL9jiRbF6PktgE64qH6LQPURMARUBni5M1AkH_dv/s1600/blog-REVclowns.jpg" height="207" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Miami clown (left), a decapitated Miami clown (middle), and their Ecuadorian<br />
cousin (right). Though a little worse for wear, that South American clown is<br />
clearly from the same mold as others in Florida. Be afraid, be very afraid!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Now, I'm no conspiracy theorist, but the clowns are clearly up to something. Not sure if they are actually alien spawn crawling their way up (or down) the American continents, feeding on our refuse until they hatch from this latent form into who knows what . . . or if they have been planted there by government agents and genetically modified to eat certain children that wander by, thus controlling our population while they spy on us. But I'm fairly sure it's one of the two. Wake up, sheeple!<br />
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<br />
Oh yeah, and I drew pictures while I was there. Honestly, I wasn't too thrilled with much of my work this year. Maybe it was the sickness, or the days off, or the more leisurely pace with thinner crowds, but it took FOREVER to get into that "groove" we all strive for. Even with a less groovy groove, I'm glad I was there. I will still seek out retail stints like fairs, as a matter of personal development, for as long as I'm able. Gigging just does not give you the rounded experience as a caricature artist. Tipsy party guests who aren't paying for their picture can let you slide into mediocrity before you realize it. Working by yourself most of the time doesn't help. Nah, as aggravating as retail can sometimes be, I value those days where I'm working next to a bunch of other artists, with a critical, impatient, cheap grandma (or abuela) hanging over your shoulder judging your every line. That will keep you sharp. Or, at least, tell you when you're losing your edge. Or it might drive you bitterly out of the business--it can have that effect too. Results are not guaranteed.<br />
<br />
There was one couple I remember pretty well, and I believe I gave them a nice picture--though I didn't photograph it. They were a couple of ladies, one more feminine and one more butch, who happily announced to me that they had just become engaged. They asked if I could put that in the picture. Well of course! I had done so for many couples before--one of them showing off the ring, the other smiling, both looking at each other, with a little heart that said "She said YES!" floating above them. Now, as I drew this picture I could not help but think about the new religious freedom <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/jurisprudence/2015/04/rfras_in_indiana_arkansas_louisiana_religious_conscience_complicity_and.html">laws in Indiana and Arkansas</a> that were all over the news that same week. I hadn't realized it, but I am in an industry where I sometimes provide things for same-sex weddings. And here I was, in a situation where I could do a little thought experiment. I started wondering (silently, of course) what it would be like if I were religiously opposed to same-sex unions and chose to express that religion by denying these ladies a picture celebrating their engagement.<br />
<br />
Wow, I thought, <i>what an asshole move that would be</i>. It would literally have ruined their day. And not in the typical "Oh my god do I look like that??" way that caricaturists can ruin your day. I mean in a demeaning, dehumanizing, hard-to-ever-laugh-about-later kind of way. What a stain on an otherwise special moment. As the hypothetical situation played out in my head, I literally cringed imagining the emotional harm one could do, even as a retail jockey selling a lousy $30 product (or AWESOME $30 product, as caricatures are).<br />
<br />
But maybe I can invent a religion that requires me to refuse service to jerks. I could maybe get on board with that--goodness knows I've certainly put up with plenty of not-so-great people in my chair, and I've drawn them with a smile on my face simply because they had money and waited in line just like everyone else. Though I have heard some stories of ballsy artists rejecting customers (one of the other benefits to working a fair is that you hear stories of exploits on the road). At the Syracuse fair, one kid reportedly waited in line for 40 minutes with his girlfriend, then when they finally got into the artist's chair the smug teen said, "Twenty bucks to draw both of us, <i>or we walk!</i>" The artist chuckled, immediately motioned the kid away and shouted "<i>NEXT!</i>" His girlfriend looked angry and hurt as she skulked off with him, and she was likely rethinking her choice in the dating pool. Hopefully the young man learned a valuable lesson on haggling: it's completely ineffective if you have to wait in a line of eager customers first. One of my coworkers at this fair confessed that he had completely bailed on a picture a few fairs ago. The guy started with a request, then kept piling on more and more requests and warnings about how he <i>didn't</i> want it drawn, until he finally killed the artist's will to even begin the drawing. Without a word to the customer, the artist simply got up and left. Eventually the guy realized he'd been dumped and wandered away. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFeYt7jT1WFhiWbCLzVS-ofOuX0uLRwr6rFHiSPtLy4IABKVwiJwx3JyFQ8_ZGFiVVyCprAimQaskwGWDtUNY8MH5q85FMkAY6UTt8JA2ND3qniI2VwK9MYNHsHxn1qyI-vkTqGx3_H0v/s1600/blog-baby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFFeYt7jT1WFhiWbCLzVS-ofOuX0uLRwr6rFHiSPtLy4IABKVwiJwx3JyFQ8_ZGFiVVyCprAimQaskwGWDtUNY8MH5q85FMkAY6UTt8JA2ND3qniI2VwK9MYNHsHxn1qyI-vkTqGx3_H0v/s1600/blog-baby.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This baby was not a jerk (though she<br />
did look worried as I started drawing). </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We all have moments when we'd rather not draw someone because they are drunk, arrogant, vain, obnoxious, argumentative, paranoid, cheap, or all of the above. But two ordinary, not-acting-like-jerk people in love? Hell, I'll draw that all day long, no matter what sets of genitals they own. The two ladies loved their picture, by the way, and I told them it would reduce well and make a neat save-the-date card if they felt so inclined.<br />
<br />
And so ended the Miami County Fair. Even the long fairs, even when you're sick through them and business isn't great, and there's ants in your camper, you feel weird when it all comes to an end. Sara described it as "Fair Stockholm Syndrome," where you get used to the living situation and routine to the point where you kind of love it. But you hate it. But kinda love it. Sara and I had settled into a living situation like two primates at the zoo: she scratched my sunburned back and I picked stray hairs off her shirt for her. Then we'd screech angrily at people and fling our poop at them. Well, not really. But we thought about it pretty hard.<br />
<br />
Until next time, Miami. Keep your eyebrows on fleek while I'm away.<br />
<br />
<i>P.S. A quick shout-out to Ali Thome, who has started doing a podcast on caricature called <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/its-supposed-to-be-funny/id955580145?mt=2">"It's Supposed to be Funny,"</a> available on Itunes, and Nolan Harris & Jon Casey who have been doing a podcast called <a href="https://soundcloud.com/iscacaricatures">"The Iscast"</a> over on Soundcloud. Both of them are welcome additions to the caricature community, and I especially enjoyed Ali's last episode dealing with the whole "cookiecutter" debate that boiled over and got pretty divisive on a few Facebook pages last month. I look forward to listening to more of what they all have to say in coming episodes--and you should too! </i><br />
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<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-47602586961140214922015-02-15T20:08:00.000-08:002015-02-16T00:40:57.737-08:00A Friday the 13th to Remember!<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ4xOIAUVlU1Wn8UJNKuAl5wvffE3GrsZxcdZFXa3JPqS80htR06sOb7jl6Gwm3oet9dBG3pKzk10GSF4BdoaslPX0-FWIOSKexVIEMYidu68ZK6_VDwzJgLNWVlY3Djp2B8dbmCrivzR_/s1600/DSC04727.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ4xOIAUVlU1Wn8UJNKuAl5wvffE3GrsZxcdZFXa3JPqS80htR06sOb7jl6Gwm3oet9dBG3pKzk10GSF4BdoaslPX0-FWIOSKexVIEMYidu68ZK6_VDwzJgLNWVlY3Djp2B8dbmCrivzR_/s1600/DSC04727.JPG" height="200" width="196" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready to draw! (No, not draw blood,<br />
draw people).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
You might know a few people who stay home on Friday the 13th because it's a bad luck day, and leaving the house for unnecessary errands would just be tempting fate. I not only left home, I drove a couple hundred miles and dressed up like a nurse! (Luckily there is a costume / fetish shop near my house where I was able to pick up a last-minute nurse's hat to go with super-red lipstick.)<br />
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See, I know a few people who see Friday the 13th as a great reason to throw a party. This past weekend I traveled to Southern California to participate in a really wacky event that is part outreach, part fundraiser, part "I dare you" party, and part reunion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh0pPV1ns34u72IKLCT7iWxNlpMpTNoQfUlWQTcYNTpURV0iWtKwlVzidn-mWJW8iXKk7nk47p4J_TiLKuSyGin5irEucYJEG4z4p8NGrVOm7NB4Gznlx2Y_-2wpZPOVirHCgFm_9OPWHi/s1600/DSC04785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh0pPV1ns34u72IKLCT7iWxNlpMpTNoQfUlWQTcYNTpURV0iWtKwlVzidn-mWJW8iXKk7nk47p4J_TiLKuSyGin5irEucYJEG4z4p8NGrVOm7NB4Gznlx2Y_-2wpZPOVirHCgFm_9OPWHi/s1600/DSC04785.JPG" height="524" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Margaret Downey introduces her volunteer staff of "doctors and nurses," ready to help "cure" the crowd of any lingering superstitions.</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0USfW6th4n1BNS4JpWOC2JWk8jojbwakip-UxzUn_46rTcjrxRG6iuBwMID_zuVOS0mwHGPHs2Jd2jhRNL3ap9Vwn8p9FFjGNxnYk8SECaS-tyvuFta54e0yXiXETeUthoIw5vgxJgsCD/s1600/DSC04767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0USfW6th4n1BNS4JpWOC2JWk8jojbwakip-UxzUn_46rTcjrxRG6iuBwMID_zuVOS0mwHGPHs2Jd2jhRNL3ap9Vwn8p9FFjGNxnYk8SECaS-tyvuFta54e0yXiXETeUthoIw5vgxJgsCD/s1600/DSC04767.JPG" height="218" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In addition to the table centerpieces, there was an area with<br />
food and food-related superstitions.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Margaret Downey, a longtime activist, equality warrior, and friend of mine, has been throwing these "Friggatriskaidekaphobia Treatment Center" parties in different parts of the country for nearly two decades now. The event always draws interest from the secular and skeptic communities, and news stations see it as an interesting angle to highlight during a dreaded Friday the 13th. As you may have figured out, "Friggatriskaidekaphobia" simply means "fear of Friday the 13th." It's not the only superstition highlighted at the event. A walk around the tables provides an educational tour of many historical and cultural-specific superstitions you might not have been aware of, as each table was topped with a unique centerpiece illustrating a particular item and it's superstitious significance.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpgUj5aFWPIG_zsz_HEtQWt6-nbqXUPhinFs_J7RxQ6WqbqeGUdj64bFFz1_Wqapt4YD46tcbLwfCinHfhtftnqAnn1fRru-_gSDyFjTRD12ryhou5FFlFvqUTSjaJERkwRI38qBdZKfDZ/s1600/old_lion_entrance_mgm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpgUj5aFWPIG_zsz_HEtQWt6-nbqXUPhinFs_J7RxQ6WqbqeGUdj64bFFz1_Wqapt4YD46tcbLwfCinHfhtftnqAnn1fRru-_gSDyFjTRD12ryhou5FFlFvqUTSjaJERkwRI38qBdZKfDZ/s1600/old_lion_entrance_mgm.jpg" height="178" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This mid-1990s look for the MGM was putting off too many<br />
rich Asian gamblers, who thought it was a little too close<br />
to "walking through the mouth of a lion."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Superstition might be all fun and games (as certainly they were that evening), but many skeptic writers have explored and criticized how this type of thinking can be detrimental. Buildings avoiding the label of a 13th floor, people not shopping on unlucky days--all of it adds up to a dent in the economy and bizarrely missing elevator buttons. Here in Las Vegas there's a famous local story (one that cost our economy millions of dollars) involving the MGM lion. The gigantic Strip resort had invested much time and money into a glamorous art-deco lion entrance during the 1990s, but developers had to scrap the entire frontage soon after reopening. The architects had placed the main entrance right under the lion's mouth, and that's <a href="http://vitalvegas.com/eight-fascinating-chinese-gambling-superstitions/">very bad mojo according to Asian superstition</a>. So pretty soon the whole front of the MGM was scaffolded up again so the hotel could be resurfaced with better feng shui in order to entice wary (and highly superstitious) Chinese gamblers.<br />
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But economics aside, some superstitions are a deadly business (in a literal sense for both those words). There are some African superstitions that claim albino people can bring good luck--and not in a cheerful way, like you should befriend an albino person or buy them some coffee, because they are lucky to be around. No, to gain luck from an albino person you must (according to the superstition) steal parts of their body for use in magic spells and luck-bringing potions. The killing and mutilating of albinos, called <i>muti murders</i>, are a continuing problem in Africa. According to the Red Cross, at least fifty albinos have been murdered in Tanzania and Burundi in recent years, as <a href="http://news.discovery.com/history/east-africa-tries-to-stem-albino-magic-murders-150117.htm">Ben Radford mentions in a recent writeup</a> for Discovery News.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGsGScbCJ4N9O862SAXTtoeNXc0M7Dmx3CFDvM3bQawUuJIbnRkL4WurXNkKWzK3kZuNYd5fPzC_sTOE81OdhVirnsTrrQlXGn6QEzj5FEwyQxX8JUQix9wLFqe9qIxqvFUDGueaaKKsjz/s1600/kittycats.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGsGScbCJ4N9O862SAXTtoeNXc0M7Dmx3CFDvM3bQawUuJIbnRkL4WurXNkKWzK3kZuNYd5fPzC_sTOE81OdhVirnsTrrQlXGn6QEzj5FEwyQxX8JUQix9wLFqe9qIxqvFUDGueaaKKsjz/s1600/kittycats.jpg" height="320" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awwwwww! </td></tr>
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The anti-superstition bash at the Fullerton Howard Johnson was a lighthearted affair, however, so there was not much talk of death and murder. Black cats were brought out by the <a href="http://kittcrusaders.org/">Kitt Crusaders</a>, who facilitate adoptions and fostering of cats and were there to educate people on how black cats are adopted at far lesser rates (and therefore euthanized at much higher rates) due to the superstitious baggage associated with them. No one at the party was able to adopt then and there, but the cats got lots of cuddles and pets, and literature was taken home.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8hBMzyffHMkvDptW-Swus2X7K1LkNUY_Q3ZYdvfjAmXmqlNm1yZdHQyPUOPb45mRRtQHDJuFHD_OIAeFFmQr3-GgDUPUVJgqmdpkK8QG15Iimu5gO-aev8WcXU2WHGl3jRZjWR3mcrKR/s1600/MargaretRabbitDone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA8hBMzyffHMkvDptW-Swus2X7K1LkNUY_Q3ZYdvfjAmXmqlNm1yZdHQyPUOPb45mRRtQHDJuFHD_OIAeFFmQr3-GgDUPUVJgqmdpkK8QG15Iimu5gO-aev8WcXU2WHGl3jRZjWR3mcrKR/s1600/MargaretRabbitDone.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a>Now, I had drawn at a Friggatriskaidekaphobia party a few years back in Philadelphia, so I knew sort of what to expect. In fact, it was nice seeing so many folks walking around in a shirt I had designed: a few years ago Margaret had asked me to craft a logo for these treatment parties, and I'd settled on an adorable little rabbit amputee. That, along with a trash can full of luck charms, adorned the signs and t-shirts around the event. We even put up balloons (in bunches of 13) and there were little quotations about luck put up all over the ballroom. Margaret really does think of everything.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiIZwQVBnhPnslNC0rQ7yb_PXU1qVigwXbDdRAuxjHew4w-HZwCF2MtQYN9U68pfdBrM3IS2d3ISJHyoVykjFAPCcmLQTijHzm1HrZ426jp2NB44IunZn_GmHfVVpqsHMOe_1pJELD_e_o/s1600/DSC04859.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiIZwQVBnhPnslNC0rQ7yb_PXU1qVigwXbDdRAuxjHew4w-HZwCF2MtQYN9U68pfdBrM3IS2d3ISJHyoVykjFAPCcmLQTijHzm1HrZ426jp2NB44IunZn_GmHfVVpqsHMOe_1pJELD_e_o/s1600/DSC04859.jpg" height="200" width="145" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ladder limbo!</td></tr>
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I was introduced with an ambiguously hyperbolic "She is the best caricature artist in the world of skepticism!" . . . which I think is sort of like being the best tapdancer in the world of taxidermy. For a suggested donation of $13, guests could get their caricature at the party--and I did get things started with a few freebies just to warm up the crowd. It was hosted by the California <a href="http://backyardskeptics.com/wordpress/index.php">"backyard skeptics"</a> so I was to expect a little skepticism! In fact, many made that joke as they sat down. "I wasn't going to get one until I saw you were good--because, you know, I'm a skeptic, got to see it to believe it!" Those silly skeptics, jeeeeeez. But skeptical or not, they all plunked down varying donations, some quite generous, and I ended the night with over $200 to contribute to the hosting organizations.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrxXqHST1IRap-DGAfj6Vq279ZmC5ypm0iFcmCBUA0HYvz7XurZBWXjRswrG_wffc8BEiEH8YBiSunAvkf2WDrOyZPn6lZz5yFHX-zTxYrs-pNTBGcld9U7Pp6RfQWNMalEz49Rm8wg_Jj/s1600/DSC04836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrxXqHST1IRap-DGAfj6Vq279ZmC5ypm0iFcmCBUA0HYvz7XurZBWXjRswrG_wffc8BEiEH8YBiSunAvkf2WDrOyZPn6lZz5yFHX-zTxYrs-pNTBGcld9U7Pp6RfQWNMalEz49Rm8wg_Jj/s1600/DSC04836.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dancing under umbrellas, while "unlucky" added a fun little<br />
intimacy for couples hiding their pre-Valentine's day kisses!</td></tr>
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As I drew, I got a nice view of the goings-on: there was a crowd umbrella dance, where couples swayed under open umbrellas on the dance floor as crooner Dave Deluca belted out some classic Frank Sinatra. Between musical acts and the dancing, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://www.buckbowen.com/">Buck Bowen</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, the energetic emcee, led folks through ladder limbo, a ceremonial smashing of a mirror, and "level the leprechaun" bowling. Volunteers dressed to the nines as doctors and nurses put people through a superstition obstacle course of sorts, having them spill salt or duck under a ladder. There was a playfulness with all of it that helped people mingle and enjoy themselves. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLW8jMzBUHNxkXhxiX6XzH6lfrYADPysj0htoksF6WrGOpRVQvcyu5yPAvzKGQ-H2JgXSNGsUEOt5LsbHCCAyWrl4iKkD0WdQraGYS5oBK1Tl13GJIQJoPgBN1HMrkiS9QvJDQJkcdM3J2/s1600/Friskadrawings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLW8jMzBUHNxkXhxiX6XzH6lfrYADPysj0htoksF6WrGOpRVQvcyu5yPAvzKGQ-H2JgXSNGsUEOt5LsbHCCAyWrl4iKkD0WdQraGYS5oBK1Tl13GJIQJoPgBN1HMrkiS9QvJDQJkcdM3J2/s1600/Friskadrawings.jpg" height="321" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the happy couples who (skeptically) sat in my chair at the party.</td></tr>
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Once my time in the chair was up, I happily turned off my spotlight and headed to the drink gypsy (doesn't every good party have a drink gypsy?) and purchased one of her $13 "love potions." Normally I NEVER would imbibe at a gig, but this was a pro bono event for a friend, and these were my people. Little did I know, a $13 love potion would probably make up for all my previous parties of staying dry. It was sixteen ounces of solid alcohol and radiated a strange blue hue that should have warned me away from ordering it. Yeah, I got a little tipsy by the end of the night. (Thank you, Margaret, for kindly hosting me and driving to and from the party!)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigd-CZf_8TtYmtuRIbHWav9sfhVATDf3jvJPTRleJdoa2cdwLrNVeHw9xhiUEei39AXbuJxFqxxvuwIs88EDukt6gCTaUX2Mf5foDRzymortxWA2EwaSDhOzyfWQNWVgRXlpWS0ILU5CXD/s1600/photo+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigd-CZf_8TtYmtuRIbHWav9sfhVATDf3jvJPTRleJdoa2cdwLrNVeHw9xhiUEei39AXbuJxFqxxvuwIs88EDukt6gCTaUX2Mf5foDRzymortxWA2EwaSDhOzyfWQNWVgRXlpWS0ILU5CXD/s1600/photo+5.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fangirling with Wendy Hughes.</td></tr>
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As I nursed my giant blue radiation-infused drink, I was able to enjoy the skeptical comedy of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ian_Patrick_Harris">Ian Harris</a>, who delighted the crowd with his monologues about meandering through an irrational world. The horoscope rap done by Buck Bowen was delightful, and I even got to meet up with Wendy Hughes, who helps run <a href="http://TheOddsMustBeCrazy.com/">TheOddsMustBeCrazy.com</a> and contributes to the podcast <a href="http://www.skepticality.com/">Skepticality</a> with stories of seemingly wild coincidences (then breaks down the odds with the help of statisticians).<br />
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There were a few luminaries in attendance that were not in the entertainment lineup. There were two fellows running around with a film camera and a fake mustache and wig, filming little snippets of the wigged actor "freaking out" over various superstitious omens. He asked one of my models if they were worried I was "stealing his soul" while I drew the caricature--the guy responded dryly "What's a soul?" A camera man and interviewer from one of the local news channels showed up. And Brian Keith Dalton, also known as <a href="http://mrdeity.com/">"Mr. Deity,"</a> swung by. Luckily he enjoyed his time and we did not have to face his omnipotent wrath! Roy Sorge, retired captain of the <i>Queen Mary</i>, also attended.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqyE3MZKNiMe_b49Ebojf9FmpH4jFM4zZjHvawAtWJQ29KSO8M2vs_UUbcLFxCG5m4dVOwCdw8zZEkbjvnhia9UUcyvDnbK5OCGNWFuNQdO4A_P7REU-YM-J0UlW2Wdx4rHnDXS6uEzx5/s1600/DSC04892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqyE3MZKNiMe_b49Ebojf9FmpH4jFM4zZjHvawAtWJQ29KSO8M2vs_UUbcLFxCG5m4dVOwCdw8zZEkbjvnhia9UUcyvDnbK5OCGNWFuNQdO4A_P7REU-YM-J0UlW2Wdx4rHnDXS6uEzx5/s1600/DSC04892.JPG" height="320" width="305" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Margaret checks Mr. Deity for signs of everlasting life.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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A surprising guest was Mr. Scott Smith, a local photographer whom I did not even recognize at first. Last time I had seen Scott, it was the 1994 Northridge earthquake. He is the brother of my original cartooning mentor, Gary Smith, who lives and works in Baltimore, Maryland. Gary and I had visited southern California around the time I graduated college, and Scott had kindly hosted us (his home was just a few miles from the epicenter). I had joked about how cool it would be if there was an earthquake during our visit--and then immediately we got one! So Gary of course blamed the earthquake on me and said it was "very bad luck" for he and I to travel together . . . . so it was fitting to hang out with his brother again at an event refuting the very existence of luck and superstition!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBLZhB7bxEnLxFgL0Mot4x3NHQW6ctQvlPtEUK3zw9NcYA76BIJjXrLuTT-C9Qqqzf-sZ2ciIG_ZQWp6m_YbP1UVaaupG2mNtPFaoGXu5rLrheXWKpVhoNhpvZjccfW-XBUCtN_FmXvl7/s1600/earthquake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBLZhB7bxEnLxFgL0Mot4x3NHQW6ctQvlPtEUK3zw9NcYA76BIJjXrLuTT-C9Qqqzf-sZ2ciIG_ZQWp6m_YbP1UVaaupG2mNtPFaoGXu5rLrheXWKpVhoNhpvZjccfW-XBUCtN_FmXvl7/s1600/earthquake.jpg" height="344" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me (in sunglasses, because I was SO COOL) surveying the damage back in '94. I think Scott actually took this picture. Then there's me and Scott now, 21 years later. I think we held up pretty well--earthquake damage notwithstanding!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
At the end of the night, Margaret and her head nurse Christine Jones did a little routine to the Secret Sisters' "Good Night, Good Luck, Goodbye" as they tossed (artificial) rabbits' feet into the crowd. Then the lights came up and many of the volunteers and some of the braver participants lined up in a group hug/dance, everyone swaying to John Lennon's "Imagine." It was a fun night of meeting new faces, reuniting with a few old friends, and learning new things. So glad I was able to be a part of it.<br />
<br />
The next day was Valentine's Day, and I relaxed with Margaret and we swapped stories. She told me about various death threats she had received from Boy Scouts back when she was leading the<a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/friendlyatheist/2012/07/17/if-the-boy-scouts-want-to-discriminate-the-u-s-military-shouldnt-support-them/"> fight in court to make them accept all boys regardless of religion or sexual orientation</a> if they were going to use public money and be linked with the US military. Apparently Boy Scouts can be pretty graphic when describing how they're going to kill you, the Eagle Scouts especially! I've had no death threats aimed at me, personally--though a few coworkers had experienced the ol' death stare and "I'm gonna kick your ass!" from angered patrons who took offense to their caricature. And Margaret did enjoy hearing a few of the very very inappropriate offers I'd heard from drunk men (or couples!) while I drew them. I'm grateful for Margaret for fighting the fights, while I sit back and draw funny pictures. (Though the next day she texted me with news of the cartoon-inspired shootings in Denmark and said that maybe my job WAS more dangerous than hers.)<br />
<br />
As a final bit of "good luck" after this event, the Southern California highways were clear and my drive home was smooth sailing! I may have to thank Mr. Deity for that little miracle--I was able to get back to my husband (and interrupt his bachelor anime fest) well before the stroke of midnight!<br />
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<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-66503451041410775972015-02-03T02:24:00.000-08:002015-02-03T03:11:50.736-08:00The Life and Death of a Retail BoothWell, this is my 50th post. A milestone of sorts. And unfortunately, it's not a happy post.<br />
<br />
Retail caricature artists everywhere know that the one constant in this business is change, and a booth near and dear to my heart has, unfortunately, succumbed to the changing tides here in Las Vegas.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQUmdWWtGGZHNzxMUlDXlxwZlPU4ctXH94bgxKswFaJB9MNvb8jgoBPR20kp17bNoATJ8bg1e6GsM51f3BzjwPU5Xs3_de57e85HD5hMoScphhcIx6H_JpZl17BWcIYmw2qtCDHuPGFxa/s1600/IMG_1025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQUmdWWtGGZHNzxMUlDXlxwZlPU4ctXH94bgxKswFaJB9MNvb8jgoBPR20kp17bNoATJ8bg1e6GsM51f3BzjwPU5Xs3_de57e85HD5hMoScphhcIx6H_JpZl17BWcIYmw2qtCDHuPGFxa/s1600/IMG_1025.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my more recent shifts at the ol' booth.<br />
(It was a Tuesday night, which explains my <br />
ennui-fueled selfie.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Doug Citizen ran the booth at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miracle_Mile_Shops">Planet Hollywood's Miracle Mile Shops</a> for over a dozen years--a good run by any stretch. I had first met Doug when he was an assistant manager for Steve Fasen's impressive Excalibur location. He became a booth owner soon after I started with Fasen. And, as the years went by and Fasen's presence dwindled, booth by booth, many artists who had cut their teeth at Fasen's locations ended up working at Doug's booth. With just two chairs it was never a crowded ship, but there were many who drifted in and drifted out. Robert and I stayed fairly regular there. It was only in the past year or so that we began filling our calendars more with gigs than with retail shifts. Even then, I valued the occasional night at the mall just to get some desk time and plow through commissions.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLw6JHMOIEfSVEMg7UooNQQ8IziqqoW1ps6-_ywgIa-U9fodg9md6kQV5UdeaEXw4ycQ9jNHJVUTeS2hhY_MGE68F7emGAcZSsa0O__aMknBB1im_9vpfJwYsKRKbj7AgoVUjwyuusPdv/s1600/189600_157170534343798_5814278_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLw6JHMOIEfSVEMg7UooNQQ8IziqqoW1ps6-_ywgIa-U9fodg9md6kQV5UdeaEXw4ycQ9jNHJVUTeS2hhY_MGE68F7emGAcZSsa0O__aMknBB1im_9vpfJwYsKRKbj7AgoVUjwyuusPdv/s1600/189600_157170534343798_5814278_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robert shows off one of his more crowded<br />
booth drawings, done from a class photo.</td></tr>
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I doubt I'll ever work under a more pleasant "boss." And yes, I'm using scare quotes because as we all know, we aren't employees and they aren't supervisors, strictly speaking. As independent contractors, we work WITH them, not FOR them. Doug was generous to a fault with his operation, and that cultivated pretty strong loyalty with his artists. For quite a stretch of years Doug made a tradition of taking the whole crew out to midnight showings of anticipated movies: nothing beat closing up the booth and heading right to the theater with your coworkers. He offered a higher percentage than any other local operator and kept offering that same percentage even when booth finances changed to his disadvantage. There was even a stretch when foot traffic at the mall ground nearly to a halt. The Aladdin was transitioning to Planet Hollywood and its entire frontage was scaffolded up in a rather uninviting way. During that Dust Bowl-esque period, the businesses inside the Desert Passage Shops were all expected to stay open, much to the ruin of many proprietors. Doug told all of us to do whatever we had to. "Draw people for free, get tips, I know you all have families to feed." The five of us actually got together one night and had an informal meeting to see how we could make sure Doug got some part of the tips, since he was left out of the equation entirely. I think that marked the first time ever, anywhere, that a group of retail artists felt the need to meet because they felt the "boss" wasn't getting enough of a share of the profits. (He refused, by the way, to take any of our shilled tip money).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIP-ir-XfhKbc34EPlOn2l3yWC1PKfeg4E7VHRFCuRaFCtYzCU-cy9AO0DdxWT77YUjkl_11cRglbh4AlSBwf85ANDTjQPtbzcJB9iLzByRhMnDr6i85sAkTckmwPQNmVPuWuu_inNWld/s1600/IMG_9199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXIP-ir-XfhKbc34EPlOn2l3yWC1PKfeg4E7VHRFCuRaFCtYzCU-cy9AO0DdxWT77YUjkl_11cRglbh4AlSBwf85ANDTjQPtbzcJB9iLzByRhMnDr6i85sAkTckmwPQNmVPuWuu_inNWld/s1600/IMG_9199.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doug, myself, and Rob gigging at some hotel, forget which.</td></tr>
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But we weathered that, and had a few more good years afterward. The booth saw a few celebrities: Mike Tyson watched for a while, commenting on how cool the caricatures were. Chef Gordon Ramsay had his kids drawn there while he was in town opening his BURGR restaurant. (Rob drew two of the kids. To my disappointment, he told me Chef Ramsay was kind and had nothing but praise--he did not yell at Rob to draw faster, or criticize his technique, or call him a donkey.) I drew "Fieldy," the bass player from Korn; his wife said they collect caricatures everywhere the band tours. Criss Angel once walked by dressed as a woman, leading around three cigar-smoking, tattooed little people wearing diapers. As part of the goofy filler stuff they filmed for his "Mindfreak" show, he asked if I would draw his "little angels," to which I said "Uhhhh, can they sit still?" "FUCK NO!" said the cigar-chomping fellow in the diaper. Later on they were relaxing on a bench nearby and Criss looked down at his dress and laughed at himself, musing "What has happened to my career!" The little person in the diaper looked at him and said "Ha! <i>YOUR</i> career?" and snuffled.<br />
<br />
Yeah, lots of good times at Desert Passage / Miracle Mile Shops. There were also the New Years Eves, where like clockwork we would come in and find vomit on our booth somewhere. And the many many tourists who could not hold liquor as attractively as their $60 light-up, shoulder-strapped souvenir cups.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQSWE4-f2xYyOeMxJSFtD04nLRum9Yatj8q-VLdcbySI2NXzGIN345SS3uMjvDtmlWQmdEKVvbZ7BiifLQvpxSPYkUK7ysywq54GEFI8ZeWgiIHdrSRC54byDQdV3MfTVQkx205td50p1Y/s1600/JW-poop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQSWE4-f2xYyOeMxJSFtD04nLRum9Yatj8q-VLdcbySI2NXzGIN345SS3uMjvDtmlWQmdEKVvbZ7BiifLQvpxSPYkUK7ysywq54GEFI8ZeWgiIHdrSRC54byDQdV3MfTVQkx205td50p1Y/s1600/JW-poop.jpg" height="320" width="216" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boredom comics by JW Cornelius and Rob.</td></tr>
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And what are bored retail artists to do with this parade of life before them? We drew it. At Doug's booth we produced more than one or two little booth comics lampooning the mall culture and one another. Okay, "little" is an understatement, these things stretched on for over 50 pages. We illustrated panels featuring so many sick and twisted little happenings, giggling to ourselves as we awaited the night shift so they could see what we scribbled and then add to the plot. It's a darn good thing Doug was never officially my boss, because HR would have had quite a talk with me after I drew him naked, chained to a dungeon wall, recovering from being roofied by mall retail supervisors. Other complicated plots played out. Zombie hordes took over the entire mall. Old coworkers showed up with diabolical plans. Casinos came to life, sprouted mechanized arms, and did battle with each other like in a bad Japanese matinee. Genies popped out of lamps and sexually humiliated people. Artists went rogue, climbed the walls, and threw their own poop from the rafters.<br />
<br />
Good times.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6rQOkgbDIWT3pC5Z1tzpvnREEu-BtfweJHcjPBE22rY6fHY6azcY1Hqn1OUyHNQ6OsQ6_kFaLkiWHepuY1N0rRQZchqoyFXtUWdm4RtaCd2FFIhhd6l5ftHVyFT1OkHzSWVxkSzE_wYG/s1600/booth-dying2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_6rQOkgbDIWT3pC5Z1tzpvnREEu-BtfweJHcjPBE22rY6fHY6azcY1Hqn1OUyHNQ6OsQ6_kFaLkiWHepuY1N0rRQZchqoyFXtUWdm4RtaCd2FFIhhd6l5ftHVyFT1OkHzSWVxkSzE_wYG/s1600/booth-dying2.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wow, no one had EVER swept under there.</td></tr>
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It was a somber moment helping Doug wheel the booth out to a U-Haul and chuck the worn-out drawers that had held our paper and plastic bags for so many years. As we pulled up the benches and floor mats, we uncovered years of detrius. I found a pencil sharpener I'd lost in 2011. As we took out the air compressor, unhooked all the lights, and prepared the hoist the rig onto wheeled dollies, sure enough two young ladies walked by and said "Oooooh how much are they? Uh . . . are you closed?" Yes, dears, we are so very very closed. Sigh. The landscape of the mall is changing--there will no doubt be a new kiosk there soon, selling magnetic therapy bracelets or giant plastic beads and sunglasses. You know, things for douchebags.<br />
<br />
Tom Richmond recently touched on the shortgevity of retail booths and how the market viability of a caricature stand can suddenly change. His November 2014 <a href="http://www.tomrichmond.com/blog/2014/11/18/end-of-an-era/">blog post</a> on theme park operations made me all the more aware of just how quickly things can end at any retail spot.<br />
<br />
The landscape here in Vegas has indeed changed, and I'm wondering myself about the future of retail caricature anywhere here. The Stratosphere booth, where I sometimes warm a chair, is likely safe due to the ol' captive audience factor (getting up to the tower will cost ya $15, and once you're up there you want to do a few things before taking the long elevator down). The booth at Adventuredome is, I believe, still up and running--but if I recall they also have facepainting, illustrated names, the whole works. Doug's location had been the last remnant of airbrush caricature here, which I do love and find to be one of the most elegant ways to ply our trade. Freemont Street has a very nice decked-out booth, but the open-air market ambience means there is competition from buskers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPuAviVr-_iFpeqPI7PnVz3HU7pKuOeZdEx-8d6QvuBKWpRvDw2swN8ei_RXADYTp5kWctx0zQgtiaFgiahFO9Du3oqW-a6pKT_SzlyA_djGGkQUgUgWFydtJwQ4dRokUZLAoYDjfINF5/s1600/booth-dying1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfPuAviVr-_iFpeqPI7PnVz3HU7pKuOeZdEx-8d6QvuBKWpRvDw2swN8ei_RXADYTp5kWctx0zQgtiaFgiahFO9Du3oqW-a6pKT_SzlyA_djGGkQUgUgWFydtJwQ4dRokUZLAoYDjfINF5/s1600/booth-dying1.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodbye, sweet booth, enjoy your slumber.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Buskers have blossomed all around the Strip like fungus. And I should not throw stones at the fungus among us: some of my friends busk. Some have even organized and have a person who hustles customers while others draw. Not a bad business model, I suppose, since it seems to be working. No rent to pay, and from what I understand it's legal as long as you don't have set prices. Much like all the celebrity lookalikes, the faux showgirls, and the guys in Transformer costumes, you just rely on the public to tip generously when they partake of your services.<br />
<br />
It's the same kind of mentality we took on during our Dust Bowl year of construction at Miracle Mile. That was, I had hoped, a temporary way of doing caricature only borne of desperation. I do hope I'm wrong when I worry that this type of economy will put an end to standard caricature booths around town. Streetwalkers and pimps might do just fine, but I'm a brothel kind of madam. I like having a brick-and-mortar operation with quality artists and a place to set my jacket and lunchbox. It just seems more . . . stable? Surely, I have worked next to a couple of terrible artists here and there at booths. But on the whole, booth culture tends to lean toward a homogeny of skill; those who suck eventually get better with training, or are let go. Buskers can run the whole spectrum in terms of quality, as no one is herding those cats. Just look at Times Square in New York if you want to see what can come of a busking-only environment. Some good artists, surely, but many many more that are not skilled.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP6T1jVuoG83COxZwq52QyeMUNIYK0q6QNDk8GsKdiTD6epn8JKmHOxBAPrKRN8n-kzb948UmRbMnJgnWnKWtXiK0ZHmltSrXGNQzkLDgovwK4FiCTs7vN4hQgmlig6O91q0wU-bBKc6YP/s1600/MiracleMile_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP6T1jVuoG83COxZwq52QyeMUNIYK0q6QNDk8GsKdiTD6epn8JKmHOxBAPrKRN8n-kzb948UmRbMnJgnWnKWtXiK0ZHmltSrXGNQzkLDgovwK4FiCTs7vN4hQgmlig6O91q0wU-bBKc6YP/s1600/MiracleMile_2.jpg" height="195" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sorry, no more caricatures here until further notice. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
If I can help it, I'll never fully give up retail. Not because it's a cash cow (boy is it <i>not</i>). But because it keeps your chops up and makes you work. Party guests are thrilled with their freebie souvenir drawings, but give me a picky grandma reluctantly shelling out $25 to get their grandkid drawn and THERE you have a challenge. THERE you have a level-up opportunity. Call me masochistic, but I like getting myself into that situation every now and then, it keeps me on my toes.<br />
<br />
Retail booths will always be built on shifting sands. The management at any shopping venue often believes (wrongly) that a caricature booth can put up numbers similar to merchandise stores, when we are hindered by the fact that every item we sell has to be crafted on the spot. It takes ten or fifteen minutes, whereas a $8-an-hour teenager can sell $500 worth of Ed Hardy tee shirts in that same amount of time. Proprietors of caricature booths have to really talk up the atmospheric benefits of having live caricature art. People like watching us. If lower booth rent can be had, then there's hope. But there's always the chance that the rent might get upped the next year, or the next, either drastically or incrementally. Many folks operate at a loss for quite some time, hoping something will change. One of my first mentors in the business had to close up his shop in Baltimore after a long stretch of increasing rent and decreasing foot traffic finally used up his patience and his savings. His last words to the leasing team there, after they hiked his rent yet again, were "I've been bending over for you guys for years, the least you could have done was use lube."<br />
<br />
I still get calls from people who are googling "Caricature in Las Vegas" and just want to find a place on the Strip to get drawn. I suppose I'll be telling them to look for the buskers now. And why not? Everything else in this town is a gamble, right?<br />
<br />
Thank you, Doug, for all the years of steady desk time and camaraderie.<br />
<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-24505963222056726172015-01-21T20:10:00.002-08:002015-01-21T20:13:23.309-08:00"Big Eyes" and "Cutie and the Boxer": Or, Celestia Yells at Movies about Married Artist Couples and Demands that the Females Grow a Pair of Lady Balls Well, I'm not usually the sort to blog movie reviews, but in the past week I've seen two films that center on married artist couples. I'm a female artist married to another artist. So each of these movies struck me as something I wanted to write a little about. Marrying another artist has its pitfalls (and its benefits). It can go afoul if the balance if not quite right. Power plays can happen if one of you is more profitable than the other, or more "artistic," or more anything--and that's going to happen, no two artists (or people) are perfectly matched. Navigating those inequalities can be interesting, or disastrous. Or just depressing. These movies struck me as cautionary tales, if nothing else, on how not to be a married artist team!<br />
<br />
Spoilers below, so if you're about to see the movie, go do that first. Or read on, whatever, it's not like there are huge revealing plotlines in either film.<br />
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The first, a Tim Burton production (complete with music by Danny Elfman, of course), stars Amy Adams as Margaret Keane and the dynamic Christopher Waltz as her husband, Walter Keane. Those who already know the real-life drama on which the movie is based are aware of Keane's work: paintings of big-eyed waifs that rose to prominence (and were ridiculed by critics) in the 1950s and 1960s. I was vaguely aware of the historical fact that Walter took credit for these paintings and Margaret eventually sued him over it in 1986, winning the case after she painted a big-eyed waif in 53 minutes when the judge asked both parties to do so (Walter claimed a sore shoulder prevented him from displaying his talent to the jury). Everything I discuss below, however, is based on the <i>movie</i>, not the real life events. So please, I hope Ms. Keane and her estate take no offense if they ever come across this and read it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5emB3RYnOk7QcENgLcDQCd0DGaB6ugQlv_dmhd77mtu4B8SeqxG46s9Y0NndWL14YzhKHDTmsE2oJnnfDvvbCIJOxPuW08vLt5NJNAo09xifDDFE0kwW1C5oEBqMmhtBen4KYUintponH/s1600/waif.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5emB3RYnOk7QcENgLcDQCd0DGaB6ugQlv_dmhd77mtu4B8SeqxG46s9Y0NndWL14YzhKHDTmsE2oJnnfDvvbCIJOxPuW08vLt5NJNAo09xifDDFE0kwW1C5oEBqMmhtBen4KYUintponH/s1600/waif.jpg" height="320" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the big-eyed Keane waifs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The movie was entertaining, the music was peppy, and there are enough fun moments that it makes for a really enjoyable comedy/drama on the whole. My nitpicks below are born out from my being a female artist married to male artist, running a business and (so far) successfully navigating the pitfalls of clashing artistic egos and business decisions.<br />
<br />
From the get-go, Amy Adams did not make the character of Margaret likable, at least not for me. She chokes back every one of her lines, using a stilted voice that sounds like she's trying to only use half of her vocal chords. And of course, she has trouble selling her art or even explaining why she creates art. In a scene many caricature artists will identify with, she offers her big-eyed portraits at an outdoor fair, only to have a customer compliment her work and then smugly offer her half the asking price for a drawing. (In a continuity gaffe, I noticed she was working with a half-size French easel, like the one I own, during the shots in the park, and then later she was carrying a full-size French easel out of the park--just a little easter egg for those of you who know your portable easel types).<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmq0p_mjhBC_2WsQfR9xNiQ6xDgCOtdmX3Q_zy6SbLqouD81lYhyphenhyphen_QfCSaRl_HBewPZCAcCKamANkQzqDx3BGmBd9UqM9nfq0aKr2-I5L19YSYucEHXmbSHOtzpwGtzLDsDOOG5Cqg7uCH/s1600/amyadams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmq0p_mjhBC_2WsQfR9xNiQ6xDgCOtdmX3Q_zy6SbLqouD81lYhyphenhyphen_QfCSaRl_HBewPZCAcCKamANkQzqDx3BGmBd9UqM9nfq0aKr2-I5L19YSYucEHXmbSHOtzpwGtzLDsDOOG5Cqg7uCH/s1600/amyadams.jpg" height="212" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amy Adams, as Margaret Keane, finds little success drawing at art fairs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Enter the spry, energetic, and very charming Walter Keane. He sweeps her off her feet, compliments her work, tells her she is devaluing herself by accepting lower prices, and proposes marriage to her fairly quickly in an effort to help her retain custody of her daughter. Soon he confesses to her that he's actually not a painter, just really admires the craft and wants to be a painter--but his actual job is commercial real estate and he's pretty successful at it. While Amy Adams' Margaret is taken aback and hurt by this revelation, I sat there thinking "What? He has a steady income from commercial real estate? That's friggin' awesome! Marry that dude!" So far so good, right? Waltz is a very likable actor--whether playing a Nazi or an old west dentist/bounty hunter, the guy really is a huge heaping pile of charm. I'm quite sure I was rooting for him in <i>Big Eyes</i> far longer than the average movie patron.<br />
<br />
The movie paints the situation as quite a natural fit, at first. Margaret is utterly useless when it comes to selling work, but Walter has the touch. He sees marketing opportunities everywhere and makes inroads with local personalities that can help his and his wife's art careers. Through what is portrayed as a misunderstanding, he takes credit for one of her paintings and ends up selling it that night--and that gets the ball rolling. Soon he is pretending that all her big-eyed waif paintings are actually his work, and the patrons are snapping them up. Margaret is hurt at first, but eventually just seems to go along with it even though it means keeping a big secret from her daughter. She wants credit for her paintings, deep down, but of course she is weak and frightened and ignorant of the ways of the world and can barely utter a full sentence much less pimp her paintings to the critics and the masses.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhep5r_adZVIQGD0_cfBy3GkBassavtLJrZw-w1_5nIKasZFBNOIF5rTQK26VvRoQc3yheg038WA2Q9g_vYOwhgSTF8sr1rtWiE1EsNXps3oq4YEYv1F4ga4x9K81YBeRkDMigBBfAYr1aC/s1600/big-eyes-amy-adams-christoph-waltz-600x399.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhep5r_adZVIQGD0_cfBy3GkBassavtLJrZw-w1_5nIKasZFBNOIF5rTQK26VvRoQc3yheg038WA2Q9g_vYOwhgSTF8sr1rtWiE1EsNXps3oq4YEYv1F4ga4x9K81YBeRkDMigBBfAYr1aC/s1600/big-eyes-amy-adams-christoph-waltz-600x399.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walter secures wall space for the two of them, but it's in<br />
a bad location where people just walk by and ask where <br />
the bathroom is. KNOW THAT FEELING, anybody?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Here's where I kind of diverged from the intended movie structure. And call me a lousy feminist if you want. In the world that the movie sets up, and with the personalities the movie portrays, it was really hard for me to see Walter as a full-on villain for most of the film. Margaret was so ineffectual, and so terrible at being in the limelight, that it became clear that without Walter, the big-eyed waifs would have remained obscure, and she would have remained impoverished, trying to get a dollar a piece for caricature-ish portraits at outdoor fairs. The guy really did have some ground-breaking ideas. He opened a gallery, he gifted celebrities and local politicians with new paintings, and he became a media darling. He was <i>good</i> at being the face of the business. Observing how many gallery posters were stolen or snatched up by people who could not afford the paintings themselves, he pioneered the idea of making low-cost prints and selling them. I sat back and thought "Wow, this guy is actually bringing a lot to the table--and all Margaret has to do is paint the things!" (I think many people who run an art business might have had the same thought during the movie--we realize that making the art isn't necessarily the most labor-intensive part of the process!)<br />
<br />
Sure, he was getting credit for the work. But the movie also points out that, during that era, female artists had a lot of trouble securing gallery showings or getting any respect for their work. She could have used Walter as a puppet, a commercial front for her own work, for decades, and reaped the benefits of fame and fortune without the annoying downsides of being recognizably famous. The actual "being famous" part was something Walter obviously enjoyed--and, given the temperament that Amy Adams played her with, Margaret might not have been able to handle fame at all had it been thrust upon her! She could have been an active partner in plotting their big-eyed empire and, given time, even planned some future grand revelation about who was really behind the paintings. In some perfect teamwork situation I imagined Walter being on board with that, making some statement that their grand switcheroo was a demonstration and indictment of chauvinism in the art world--these paintings did not sell when they were painted by a female, but look at how valuable they became under his name! I could see Andy Warhol digging that publicity stunt.<br />
<br />
But no. And it didn't go that way in real life, so I cannot expect a movie about the Keanes to go that way. It would not have any sort of conflict necessary to make a movie if it did! So naturally, as the movie drives toward its climax, Walter becomes an ogre and his ego turns him into a slave-driver rather than a helpful partner. And of course, you hate him for it and feel bad for poor Margaret. Some of the scenes showing Margaret as a trapped, downtrodden soul went a little overboard in terms of believability, though. In one climactic scene she is terrified of a stumbling, falling-down drunk Walter as he menaces her and her teenaged daughter. He starts lighting matches and tossing them at her, and the terror Amy Adams brings forth is over the top. They are matches, tossed by a drunk. You know what you do when a falling-down drunk is coming for you? You step aside and watch them fall down, drunk. It's not difficult, I've done it myself (thankfully, not in a situation of threatened domestic violence, but I have been in the presence of extremely drunk men before, and I have had to dodge them). When someone like that tosses matches, you pinch out the match flame so that nothing catches fire. All I could figure was that maybe both Margaret and her daughter were soaked head-to-toe in hair spray and thus were highly flammable, perhaps? It was the 60s. That would account for the extremely terrified reaction of both of them when a few matches were tossed their way.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvMZK-gZH7tZ5xc-_mnhhfjPn0513CVrie8_l8bWZheXF23OV_a_i79LU_JAfQwIDLsHcl3q8FAwOODKOug4FY3mW88Tz7Ih_fSSbGj_nM-wNIQgOHAKdL1sH8AbJNNWQcNxDBa0BtqQ4/s1600/Waltz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvMZK-gZH7tZ5xc-_mnhhfjPn0513CVrie8_l8bWZheXF23OV_a_i79LU_JAfQwIDLsHcl3q8FAwOODKOug4FY3mW88Tz7Ih_fSSbGj_nM-wNIQgOHAKdL1sH8AbJNNWQcNxDBa0BtqQ4/s1600/Waltz.jpg" height="171" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waltz's Walter Keane before he goes from Prince Charming<br />
to Prince Alarming.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Ah, I'm failing to get myself into the mindset of an emotionally abused woman. That must be it. Forgive me. It's difficult, especially in the span of a 106-minute movie. I am a large woman with a very strong sense of self, and brothers that taught me to fight, and enough contact sports under my belt that I tend to see movie scenes like that in a different way. A tactical way. Drunk guy coming for you? Well, hey, look how easy it would be to trip him. Or look at that heavy object nearby, use it on his skull, you nitwit! Oh no, wait, you're going to scream and cower and behave in the typical cinematic damsel style. Sigh. It makes it very hard to root for you, lady.<br />
<br />
They do portray Margaret as very weak-spirited and unable to do much without help. There are obvious parallels between her and the victim-like waif children she paints. She first needs Walter's help, then she dives into numerology and seems to get some strength from that. Then, finally, she is visited by Jehovah's Witnesses and embraces that mindset as a way to find strength that she, as an individual, always seemed to lack. Her reason for taking Walter to court finally turned on whether or not the fraudulent way her paintings were marketed constituted "lying," which was a sin in Jehovah's eyes. She had separated from Walter by now and clearly, deep down, she had always wanted credit for her work. But that desire wasn't enough, she needed some other crutch to help get her willing and ready to fight for it.<br />
<br />
It was, of course, very satisfying seeing Margaret finally wrest credit from her (by now) delusional, self-aggrandizing, control-freak parasite of an ex-husband. The courtroom scenes provide quite a few laughs, and the judge's no-nonsense approach to settling the matter is simple and to the point. He asks them both to paint, and only Margaret can. She walks out of the courtroom holding the finished big-eyed waif painting in one hand and her daughter's hand in the other. The transformation from weak to strong is supposed to resonate here, and it does. It almost makes me forgive the filmmakers for how she is portrayed for the first 98 minutes of the movie. Almost.<br />
<br />
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<br />
The second movie I saw this week about a married pair of artists was the somewhat depressing 2013 documentary <i>Cutie and the Boxer,</i> which follows the 40-year marriage of "boxing painter" Ushio Shinohara and his wife Noriko Shinohara. It was recommended by a friend and had a 96% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, so I was ready for a great flick. It was readily available on Netflix and so we were in luck.<br />
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It was not really a feel-good movie. It did not make one feel inspired or proud to be an artist, nor did it give the impression that artists marrying artists was a good idea. About fifteen minutes into the film my husband Robert said "I really do not like this guy."<br />
<br />
The guy in question was 80-year-old Ushio, who we see in several ways: in the present day, as the somewhat doddering old man who has developed an allergy to alcohol but still puts on his paint-soaked boxing gloves and whacks at canvas in his cluttered Soho warehouse; then, in archive footage as a smiling younger rebel of an artist that whacks at canvas wearing boxing gloves and also hangs out with Andy Warhol; and, finally, in Noriko's painterly cartoons of him as a "true artist" who drunkenly carouses with friends, borrows money from her, and plunges her into an impoverished life where she has trouble raising their child.<br />
<br />
Ushio's work is large and bold and bizarre, great big cardboard sculptures of spiked motorcycles and huge swaths of canvas filled with vivid streaks and splotches. He says at the film's start that Noriko is "just an assistant" and her job is to support the true genius. I wondered if he was just tongue-in-cheek kidding about that, the way old couples taunt each other. Rob thought he was dead serious.<br />
<br />
"Please tell me I was never like that to you," he asked me as we watched. "Please tell me<i> I</i> was never like that to <i>you</i>!" I said back to him.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg03AqzzlRcPeweNxf9YiDQZWEZ1Oyeg-dfRW0im1onDXdhxjrcg0iCkSVA9gTe_yot1YqiabxG1FaaenDeu30h0LAiwBtbh_jJLl1PHpu0Qt1oBVFDfPHx_xmB_qsZnwoPVItff03SQPk9/s1600/smash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg03AqzzlRcPeweNxf9YiDQZWEZ1Oyeg-dfRW0im1onDXdhxjrcg0iCkSVA9gTe_yot1YqiabxG1FaaenDeu30h0LAiwBtbh_jJLl1PHpu0Qt1oBVFDfPHx_xmB_qsZnwoPVItff03SQPk9/s1600/smash.jpg" height="207" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ushio SMASH!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Noriko is shown as the ever-present wife, who bears many burdens but gets no credit for her accomplishments. She states outright that he has her only because he cannot afford to hire anyone to do all the things she does for him. The filmmakers animate her biographical cartoon drawings of "Cutie and Bullie," little representations of herself and her husband that tell the story of their courtship and difficulties according to her. Cutie is always naked in the drawings, she says, because she is so poor.<br />
<br />
There is clearly resentment, and money trouble, and a question of whether Noriko has wasted her life on this man, this artistic soul she met when she was a 19-year-old student. The filmmakers do not try to simplify the complex relationship, nor do they candy-coat it. Every marriage is complex, but one would hope the good bits outweigh the bad. In this movie, I did not come away feeling that. They discuss their adult son's alcoholism, they live in a hoarder-like environment, and they are perpetually short on the rent. Through all this, Noriko seems to have a sense of grace and tired elegance. She is downtrodden but ladylike. Ushio smacks his food, quibbles with her, and cooks "celery hamburgers" for the family much like a child might. He does not drink anymore, but Noriko explains it was because he developed a medical intolerance for it. One wonders what the documentary would feature if he were still able to imbibe. Though Ushio is more than twenty years her senior, Noriko too has grey-white hair and the eyes of an octogenarian. "Living with that man has aged her before her time," Rob judged.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0OCtL3excbffx-pkGOJN18loPKJRCZDPPzj_f9cr6bUqO4dVsS1eDWXR_BvQMKrwTRce3jLmjdJCAd98DIiZOek5ToeyrsDV2rW-9-R16kh1l0QvSXSlnlwyxVCo1bkdp7Tm7-aErNA3/s1600/cutie-toons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0OCtL3excbffx-pkGOJN18loPKJRCZDPPzj_f9cr6bUqO4dVsS1eDWXR_BvQMKrwTRce3jLmjdJCAd98DIiZOek5ToeyrsDV2rW-9-R16kh1l0QvSXSlnlwyxVCo1bkdp7Tm7-aErNA3/s1600/cutie-toons.jpg" height="417" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noriko and Ushio in the gallery room featuring her larger painted versions of Cutie and Bullie. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
In the end, the film tries to frame Noriko as a victor of sorts. She gets to share a gallery show with her husband, where she displays large painted versions of her "Cutie and Bullie" cartoons. When going through the drawings with a friend, she states ominously that they cannot have a happy ending because that would not be the truth. At the show, though, she rationalizes that she would marry him all over again because she needed the suffering, for her art. And, as some kind of "happy ending" after all, the drawings she reproduces on the wall show Cutie triumphing over Bullie, getting a pair of red shoes to wear, and sitting on him as she wrests control.<br />
<br />
And the end sequence is a kind of adorable slow-motion boxing match between the two, with Noriko landing every punch and coating her husband in bright paint.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure Cutie did triumph over Bullie. I think she just waited him out. He grew old, he could no longer drink, and he became manageable. If this is a victory, I would say it's a victory won by the infinite capacity of woman to bear suffering gladly.<br />
<br />
Some women. Me, personally, I would never have had the patience.CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-50667746246386356582015-01-15T12:28:00.000-08:002015-01-15T14:38:17.862-08:00Je Suis Froussard: What Charlie Hebdo Has Taught Me (So Far)I have not been looking forward to writing this post. But I can't really call myself a caricature blogger and ignore it.<br>
<br>
The media saturation of the topic has been pretty solid this past week. Or at least it has seemed so from my vantage point (with about two hundred artists on my Facebook feed, and as an avid listener to public radio, which has given it much coverage).<br>
<br>
On Wednesday, January 7th, twelve people, among them the editor in chief and four cartoonists, were killed at the offices of satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo, in Paris. The next day a policewoman was gunned down. And then, finally (let us hope it is a final count), four more lost their lives in a kosher grocery during a standoff with the gunmen presumed responsible for the original attack on the magazine.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3bxFNREWddTia_jObaO1psg48BmFEFZwWS6sPIDgkoMvMhZen_0RuIoERmYTYpPOwxbdU-WBkvHVwE1FMDgLXd4AqDK8MD9_6QxZJ6yRfbWuklzWE3XRNrbGtoTIaJpMBscVCdlZfY4m/s1600/Charb-12162011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3bxFNREWddTia_jObaO1psg48BmFEFZwWS6sPIDgkoMvMhZen_0RuIoERmYTYpPOwxbdU-WBkvHVwE1FMDgLXd4AqDK8MD9_6QxZJ6yRfbWuklzWE3XRNrbGtoTIaJpMBscVCdlZfY4m/s1600/Charb-12162011.jpg" height="320" width="318"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rather than a somber photo of Charb, I am going to show<br>
you a drawing of his that made me giggle. The French and<br>
the English have a bromance of sorts, having lampooned<br>
each other for centuries upon centuries (this caption reads<br>
"But who wants the English in Europe?").</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
Stephan Charbonnier ("Charb"), the editor, knew he was a target for a long while. The magazine's offices were firebombed in 2011, and Charb was featured in a "wanted dead or alive" poster in an Al Queda magazine in 2013 (I know, I thought it too: "WTF, they have an official magazine???"). His attitude was fairly brazen about the dangerous hackles he was raising: <i>"And when the government asks us not to do any provocation, we have the impression that three idiots who demonstrated in the streets represent all of Islam. It's the government who insults Muslims by saying that. You have to take them as they are. One has to mock them using humor, disarm them with humor and not give them any credit. By taking them seriously and sending regiments of riot cops to hold them, one takes them seriously."</i><br>
<i><br></i>
I want to say that this type of bravery in the name of free speech, artistic expression, and separation of church and state, and the right to mock anyone and everyone is a very American thing . . . but it's not, really. It's more a French thing.<br>
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<br>
Our word <i>caricature</i> originates from the French word<i>, </i>and there are many early French caricaturists that come to mind: Daumier, Philipon, Guillaume, and so on. There is a reason I often wear berets to my gigs, and why Chelsea Peretti put on a ridiculous French accent when she made fun of Jeff Pecina (see my last post). The French are kinda historical smart asses, they have been linked to caricature's roots in our consciousness even if we don't know the names Philipon or Daumier.<br>
<br>
As a lighter historical digression, let me tell you about Charles Philipon and one of the most successful political caricatures of all time.<br>
<br>
In the early 1830s, after a July revolution put a new king upon the French throne (Louis-Pilippe), there was still unrest and criticism of the new leader. Artists and satirists attacked him, softly at first but more and more ruthlessly, often in a publication called<i> La Caricature</i>. Philipon drew the king carelessly blowing bubbles, each representing false promises like freedom of the press, popping in the wind. Ironically, that drawing landed him in court. As did another cartoon he drew of the king as a mason, fixing a wall and erasing traces of the July revolution. On November 14, 1831, Philipon is again in court and performs a demonstration that became, it could be argued, one of the first viral memes.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJSXtAaohBNzBIdkVYAODlxPmOC5kb89eiZIW-rUACdotLK2DiWqlNJ7XjOiB-rnt1LZul57wFUyq9uulwgdOo0bVd523V3o027hEN2fwSOBXX2spr7lUX6GXCK2SCDprjWEYnQSZjpke5/s1600/200px-Philipon_Metamorphose_Louis-Philippe_en_poire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJSXtAaohBNzBIdkVYAODlxPmOC5kb89eiZIW-rUACdotLK2DiWqlNJ7XjOiB-rnt1LZul57wFUyq9uulwgdOo0bVd523V3o027hEN2fwSOBXX2spr7lUX6GXCK2SCDprjWEYnQSZjpke5/s1600/200px-Philipon_Metamorphose_Louis-Philippe_en_poire.jpg"></a></div>
<br>
He defended his caricatures of the king by claiming that it was not his fault that "everything can look like the king." To illustrate, he drew a series of caricatures showing the king morphing into a pear. Though Philipon was sentenced to jail time and a hefty fine, the success of the image, this caricature, was immediate. As he recounts in a letter: "The people, seized by a mocking image, a simple image design and a simple shape, began to imitate this wherever he found a way make charcoal image smearing, scratching a pear. Pears soon covered all the walls of Paris and spread to all the walls of France."<br>
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The pear came to symbolize the king, his corrupt regime, and all his cronies, and it helped galvanize the population against him. Other artists began to use the image of a pear. Louis-Philippe, the Pear King, eventually had to abdicate the throne in 1848 and lived out the rest of his life in exile.<br>
<br>
So France has a history of caricature being a very powerful weapon, and popular force. Their media is shaped by this, it has a cultural memory.<br>
<br>
R. Crumb, an American cartooning legend who has been living in France for a couple decades now, gave a <a href="http://observer.com/2015/01/legendary-cartoonist-robert-crumb-on-the-massacre-in-paris/">lengthy and insightful interview</a> about the Charlie Hebdo massacre and his thoughts on the media differences between his two home countries. <i>"You don't have journalists over there anymore, what they have is public relations people. That's what they have over in America now. Two-hundred and fifty thousand people in public relations. And a dwindling number of actual reporters and journalists."</i> He also went into the French tradition of merciless political satire and said "It's a French thing, yeah, and they value that very highly here."<br>
<br>
The cartoons were very insulting and offensive by design. That strikes Americans as nonsensical. We like smart, we like funny, and we can put up with a little poking, but we are much quicker to see things as hate speech. And we really hate hate speech here.<br>
<br>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyWxK7TCTHAIMJrVqKaAavK5oZd-5S6LXiLgvGsspSvpuqfsXwJX_2z3RHXjxlJdHSLLtAgRc4ABMjgJLklb5RjUQn37SCnAtY-AAN3sMt5lU8KM4wyKZh-6s5YyBX7F-MnDBv9uQ18LB-/s1600/statues.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyWxK7TCTHAIMJrVqKaAavK5oZd-5S6LXiLgvGsspSvpuqfsXwJX_2z3RHXjxlJdHSLLtAgRc4ABMjgJLklb5RjUQn37SCnAtY-AAN3sMt5lU8KM4wyKZh-6s5YyBX7F-MnDBv9uQ18LB-/s1600/statues.jpg" height="217" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Both of these are rude and immature photos. One of them is<br>
a crime in Pennsylvania. But perhaps with lobbying we<br>
can protect Ronald McDonald from desecration as well. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We also still have plenty of sacred cows. Just a few months ago <a href="http://www.christianpost.com/news/teen-who-desecrated-jesus-statue-gets-probation-community-service-and-is-banned-from-using-social-media-127586/">a 14-year-old in Pennsylvania was brought up on charges and could have faced 2 years in jail for taking a photo</a> with a statue of Jesus. Let me repeat that. He was facing two years in jail, in America, for taking a photo. The statue (which was in a public place, he did not trespass) was undamaged, he simply stood in front of it at an angle that made it look like Jesus was, ahem, doing something very lewd. It was absolutely exercising free speech, absolutely should have been protected under law, and it happened here on our soil. And that's how it was dealt with. The kid was given probation and community service, and he was banned from using social media. His "crime" fell under a Pennsylvania law defined as "defacing, damaging, polluting or otherwise, physically mistreating in any way that the actor knows will outrage the sensibilities of persons likely to observe or discover the action."<br>
<br>
So in Pennsylvania, you'd better not outrage someone's sensibilities. I wonder how Pennsylvania cartoonists feel about that law.<br>
<br>
I was working a big convention during the days that the massacre unfolded. And normally I would never chat with clients or caricature guests about a divisive, controversial topic while I'm doing my job and in "public-pleasing" mode. But the last guy I drew was from Paris. So it came up. Very briefly, very tentatively, we discussed the state of things in France and he filled me in on the latest news there (the gunman and hostages had just been killed mere hours ago, which was news to me). Well, a bystander overheard our talk and butted in with <b>"Well have you SEEN the cartoons? They were REALLY offensive."</b><br>
<br>
I stopped short for a moment. I did not know the victims. But I know people who knew them. I felt a kinship. And here's this guy, saying that over my shoulder, and in my mind I instantly imagined him defending a rapist, saying <b>"Well, did you SEE what she was wearing? It was REALLY slutty."</b><br>
<br>
Now, standing up and slapping him for that statement would have probably not gone over well with my corporate client. And it would have been answering offensive speech with violence, which is exactly what the Paris tragedy was. So I put on a nice face and just said, as neutrally as I could, "Well, I can't imagine any cartoon, of any level of offensiveness, that would justify murder." The guy shrugged. My Parisian friend in the chair looked irritated but left it at that.<br>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBi1fMoaGH8H12nUqL39hlK5ZNru905Lun8PdSupSMl56iOqToURFnGnZbpSeRa1e-9KLppxYrMPTzJcSYR_RiMPefSajKZo4lUsT0BwCFsk0uAqH_P71Lhro46s1Hr2Pd7SbIBTWZV4p/s1600/southpark.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJBi1fMoaGH8H12nUqL39hlK5ZNru905Lun8PdSupSMl56iOqToURFnGnZbpSeRa1e-9KLppxYrMPTzJcSYR_RiMPefSajKZo4lUsT0BwCFsk0uAqH_P71Lhro46s1Hr2Pd7SbIBTWZV4p/s1600/southpark.png" height="202" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some friends just don't photograph well. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
That guy was one of many examples of why America is not Charlie Hebdo. There's a feeling of cognitive dissonance going on when we rally about freedom of speech but then say "Oh but they were such racist cartoons, I mean, that was hate speech." Jeffrey Goldberg summarized this well in his piece for the Atlantic Weekly, <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2015/01/we-are-not-all-charlie-hebdo-attack/384319/">"We Are Not All Charlie Hebdo."</a> He points out the ridiculous bravery of those working at Charlie Hebdo: they continued to publish those rude satires of radical Islam even AFTER their offices were firebombed in 2011. No American outlet would have done so. Matt Smith and Trey Parker were reigned in pretty immediately and their infamous <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/201_(South_Park)">Mohammed episode</a> of South Park was redacted by the network back in 2010. Comedy Central was not firebombed, they just thought maybe they might get a violent response. That was enough to put on the brakes.<br>
<br>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxWFi6bkfgA1gQANWnXoXkeXEXb15gA6EqCoKb8ANfKr174WvXo4ypVu4OrDvDGdZDuRuqHTl6HT87o2D00YGBBBfe4ea-v42LqWd76-xJcR-BtRw2m7nBUUJuvYZq6-SlYkthrguyo4-/s1600/molly-norris1-e1420766425708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxWFi6bkfgA1gQANWnXoXkeXEXb15gA6EqCoKb8ANfKr174WvXo4ypVu4OrDvDGdZDuRuqHTl6HT87o2D00YGBBBfe4ea-v42LqWd76-xJcR-BtRw2m7nBUUJuvYZq6-SlYkthrguyo4-/s1600/molly-norris1-e1420766425708.jpg" height="180" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Molly, it sucks to be you. I'm so sorry. I hope things change.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Now, I'm willing to admit my own hypocrisy and cowardliness here. I'm not including my own drawing of Mohammed in this blog post. But I will talk about Molly Norris, who started "Everybody Draw Mohammed Day" back in 2010 right after the South Park brouhaha. Here images were benign to the extreme: Mohammed as a domino, a thimble, a teacup. It was something she posted as a lark on Facebook.<br>
<br>
Within a day she got death threats. She has been in hiding four years now, with a new identity, at the recommendation of the FBI. Her friend Larry Kelley, who <a href="http://larrykelley.com/free-molly-norris-foundation/">started a foundation</a> trying to help fundraise for her, says that law enforcement did not do enough to protect her. "The example of Molly Norris shows you we are not even playing defense when it comes to threatening the journalistic community." On<a href="http://larrykelley.com/free-molly-norris-foundation/"> his blog</a> he states "Norris is the first casualty in the campaign to Islamify America. And we let them take her down without a whimper."<br>
<br>
I do not know if Molly was given any choice in the matter, and I'm not calling her a chicken for going into hiding. But I'm holding this American example up in stark contrast to the way things played out after the firebombing of Charlie Hebdo. The government assigned more security, there was a guard there at all times, and the cartoons kept on coming. Did the cartoonists know they were taking a humongous risk? Well yes of course, they weren't stupid!<br>
<br>
Much has been said of how the artists at Charlie Hebdo were part of that elite, hard-edged group of "underground" artists who came of age in the 1960s and seemed constantly tilting at the windmills of politics and religion. Crumb mentioned in his interview, <i>"He knew . . . he said that thing about, you know, 'I'd rather die standing than live on my knees,' he said 'You know, I'm not married, I don't have credit cards, I don't drive a car. I stay very . . . I keep everything very simple . . . I don't want to have these connections, because I could go at any time.' He knew that. "</i><br>
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<br>
These guys knew they would more likely than not become victims. Martyrs to free speech, if you will. I find that bone-chilling. And admirable. And it takes a load off me. They were brave, and insulting, and rude, and crass, and subversive for me. For all of us. So I may go with R. Crumb on this and call myself a cowardly cartoonist (as he did, slyly, in his contribution to the many cartoons being circulated about the tragedy).<br>
<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXBglZl9lSK4z_DXE2b-PUNZrBhx0t-iNX0kofLbE8kbJ-mrVFfvpKfs5-ajesuETjSj_SyDRrWr7OpEpXh1OX-dB8Y-lHNAfz9UZFAiO8q-TJyq6lLQ1hyphenhyphenqQ1Q_glTaiSdJpcLGGyyrI/s1600/froussard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXBglZl9lSK4z_DXE2b-PUNZrBhx0t-iNX0kofLbE8kbJ-mrVFfvpKfs5-ajesuETjSj_SyDRrWr7OpEpXh1OX-dB8Y-lHNAfz9UZFAiO8q-TJyq6lLQ1hyphenhyphenqQ1Q_glTaiSdJpcLGGyyrI/s1600/froussard.jpg" height="320" width="213"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am a chicken. Sorry.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But I hope that some of Philipon's spirit is still around. I hope that through the mass exposure this event is getting, through the courage of many individual people, whose ancestors scratched charcoal pears onto walls, we can elevate the notion of free speech. And "elevate" in this sense means "lower"--for you cannot have free speech if it means "only for things that are high-brow and inoffensive." Hate speech should not be a crime, only hate action.<br>
<br>
Charb, Tignous, Wolinsky, Cabu, Honore, do not rest in peace. Rage on, through your work and through your sacrifice, so that the rest of us can be inspired. Taunt on, brothers and sisters, taunt on.<br>
<br>
<br>
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<br>CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-56721286809253307742014-12-29T11:31:00.000-08:002014-12-29T13:37:24.153-08:00Let's Talk about Chelsea Peretti's NoseIn all fairness, she does talk a lot about it herself. Ms. Peretti highlights her prominent feature in several of her standup bits, like <a href="http://gawker.com/5731947/chelsea-peretti-on-both-cultures">this one</a> discussing how she ended up with the nose of both her parents' cultures (Italian and Jewish). She is featured on the website <a href="http://hotgirlswithbignoses.com/nose/45">"Hot Girls with Big Noses,"</a> where she is described as having an "anchor" type of nose--it was neat to see a shape reference like that, it really calls to mind the process of caricature.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipDWTY0a8xwCqDZ0TirjAzGtVMJWSrdaXccPSYNW3FXCcWb34vEx4kuiqSEIDbSOyTiN25fpSsIuI52T7mV4ram_TkJAj7E30NYyfZgEg8bv3C8FG_g5IKn3wWKcjT08M2p769MOMZNcPC/s1600/Instagram-Peretti.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipDWTY0a8xwCqDZ0TirjAzGtVMJWSrdaXccPSYNW3FXCcWb34vEx4kuiqSEIDbSOyTiN25fpSsIuI52T7mV4ram_TkJAj7E30NYyfZgEg8bv3C8FG_g5IKn3wWKcjT08M2p769MOMZNcPC/s1600/Instagram-Peretti.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chelsea in real life, and in Jeff's sketchbook. I like the sleepy eyes and<br />
protruding lower lip--but yeah, that schnoz does take center stage.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Speaking of caricature--apparently it's okay to talk about Chelsea Peretti's nose, but drawing it is not cool. San Antonio artist Jeff Pecina drew this quick sketch caricature of Ms. Peretti and threw a hashtag on it identifying her. This whole instance took place years ago--look at the tag there, it was 129 weeks ago that this screencap was even taken. But it's only come to my attention now because Ms. Peretti was heretofore unknown to me . . . that changed with the release of her comedy special "One of the Greats" on Netflix. She's funny. She's on the cast of <i>Brooklyn Nine-Nine,</i> and she was a writer on one of my all-time favorite sitcoms, <i>Parks and Recreation.</i> <br />
<br />
Anyway, back when Jeff originally put the picture on his Instagram feed, he immediately experienced one of those weird instances only possible because we're living in the future hive-mind. Jeff actually was contacted pretty quickly by Ms. Peretti herself--who said she did not appreciate the picture or the hashtag. Jeff kindly shared his screencaps with me, which I now share with you.<br />
<br />
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Okay, take a moment to read through the back-and-forth on there. Go ahead, I'll wait. Then let's discuss.<br />
<br />
All right . . . first off, let me say that if Johnny Depp had contacted me to criticize any of the <i>21 Jumpstreet</i> drawings I did of him in the late 80s, I would have freaked right the hell out. But with the amazing power of the hashtag, any fan, commentator, artist, or teenaged worshipper can sometimes get the attention of a celebrity--whether or not they are trying to. Sure, hashtaggers might be attention hounds eager for any celeb eyeball time . . . or they might just be trying to create an easily indexable set of drawings, or reach out to other fans, or identify the subject if that person isn't particularly well known (as I said, I had never heard of her until recently). <br />
<br />
Chelsea came in like a hammer: immediately calling for Jeff's death and forcing an early proof of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Godwin's_law">Goodwin's Law</a> by getting to Hitler in her second comment.<br />
<br />
All right though, she's a comedian. They get an initial pass on stuff that might make me think someone is a raging asshole . . . she might be saying those things <i>ironically, </i>like in a comedian way.<br />
<br />
But she goes on. She's irked that she was tagged. She states that other caricatures Jeff did made women look hot (did she take the time to look through his feed then, see other drawings of his?). She claims that caricatures aren't a super tricky art form, just give people big noses if they have a big nose.<br />
<br />
Well, okay, yeah she has a point. Caricature can be highly rendered and incredibly complex--but it can also be a delightfully simple art form. If you drew a caricature of someone like Chelsea and gave them a small nose, the caricature would fail. But she echoes a joke I often tell when people ask me what caricature is. I say "Well some people think it's just a cartoon drawing with a big nose, but that's a vicious rumor started by people who are angry that they have big noses."<br />
<br />
The comment exchange ends with her eloquently quipping "I don't hope you die I hope you have to make your living as a caricature artist bye boo boo."<br />
<br />
Jeff is pretty calm, in my opinion, and retains some class and etiquette. He's a little sarcastic but he never name calls or derides her profession. And he complies with her request to remove tag and his other post. He tells her he likes her work and doesn't think she's ugly.<br />
<br />
I didn't think she was ugly. Not until the comment thread anyway.<br />
<br />
But seriously, it gets more irritating. I had heard she mentioned caricatures in her <a href="http://www.netflix.com/WiMovie/80004534">Netflix special</a>, so I dialed it up and watched the whole thing. At minute 36, she talks about how social media and "comment culture" might have damaged great minds and artistic geniuses of the past. How young comedians at early stages of development might have their "artistic journey" stunted by jerks commenting about them online. She's being cheeky and sarcastic, but she's clearly trying to make the point on behalf of comedians.<br />
<br />
Yeah, young comedians should be protected from that sort of thing, of course. How awful that they have to deal with folks saying rude things to them online. Like wishing them dead or comparing them to Hitler. <br />
<br />
At minute 39, she mentions googling herself and discovering Jeff's caricature. She calls him "someone" and doesn't mention his name, but she talks about commenting on it and repeats these comments pretty verbatim. The audience laughs. She gives Jeff a saucy French accent and guesses he might have been at a State Fair when he posted it. She rips on the general art form and says its a way for bullies to get into art.<br />
<br />
More laughs. Now, she's no dummy. Jeff pretty much handed her material to use on her comedy special. She used it, she's making great money from it, and if you ask me she really owes Jeff a fruit basket and a thank-you card, at the very least.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Edya0n8ZwQYPjNPgZabFH9qDQoIiLebPwj9ONCmEqTWY0nsPUQbKy5s-cMqC03o5spUil1KzL6G2irsxR8LdOI0OVYBXmZM5L574yO7RM1yBonElsioN87fBez0aW5nTl-7jR63p6382/s1600/tumblr_ma3swnpur41qj1zpno1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Edya0n8ZwQYPjNPgZabFH9qDQoIiLebPwj9ONCmEqTWY0nsPUQbKy5s-cMqC03o5spUil1KzL6G2irsxR8LdOI0OVYBXmZM5L574yO7RM1yBonElsioN87fBez0aW5nTl-7jR63p6382/s1600/tumblr_ma3swnpur41qj1zpno1_1280.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chelsea dishing it out.</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
And complaining about a caricature does fit in with Chelsea's brand of humor. As I state above, she has exploited her nose in her comedy before. When you get into dissecting the whole situation, I'm not sure if Chelsea was really irritated at all--or if she was playing around by commenting, really just trying to ruffle Jeff's feathers, and then decided to make it into a comedy bit. Or, perhaps she was initially irked and felt sensitive about her nose but drew on that knee-jerk reaction to create a few jokes that felt genuine. Plenty of comics make a living caricaturing themselves verbally on stage. Chelsea has a lot of female-centric humor that focuses on feeling self-conscious, comparing herself to male comedians, and the standard of beauty. She's crass and filthy too, and has been <a href="http://observer.com/2007/07/move-over-sarah-silverman/">compared to Sarah Silverman</a>.<br />
<br />
I have one big piece of evidence that tells me Chelsea really cannot be all that sensitive about the size of her nose. One big, anchor-shaped piece of evidence that sits in the center of her face. After years in the spotlight and probably seeing hundreds of troll comments saying "this chick would be hot if she just got a nose job," she has not yet paid an LA doctor to hack it off her face. I commend that. Having listened to her comedy special, I would say with confidence that any surgical change to her nose would throw off the nasally voice she does as a gag to describe her selfish or bored thoughts. It works for her the way it is now, she is smart to keep her nose. Kudos to you, Ms. Peretti. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhswmkwUqtD8t8PdQKs_i4DJPDnrkaQgHXLlvQchHSV3tYPatM_cTKMEzGIYKau6t3KjU9i1lNBO22ofXV5Y7xPUPvtgVCSyDyUrHSRcwOMn4GB55OPbYJkwxuEJoa4fJhnU4N-iiP2MrV7/s1600/jerry_lewis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhswmkwUqtD8t8PdQKs_i4DJPDnrkaQgHXLlvQchHSV3tYPatM_cTKMEzGIYKau6t3KjU9i1lNBO22ofXV5Y7xPUPvtgVCSyDyUrHSRcwOMn4GB55OPbYJkwxuEJoa4fJhnU4N-iiP2MrV7/s1600/jerry_lewis.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drew Friedman's take on Jerry Lewis.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Male comedians with less-than-model-looks are everywhere. Caricature artists love drawing comedians. <a href="http://www.tcj.com/22157/">Drew Friedman</a> published a trio of caricature books titled <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Old-Jewish-Comedians-BLAB-Storybook/dp/1560977418"><i>Old Jewish Comedians, More Old Jewish Comedians,</i> and<i> Even More Old Jewish Comedians.</i></a> To my knowledge, none of the big-nosed comedians contacted Friedman to tell him the drawings were anti-Semitic or hurtful. But Friedman himself told me in person (along with the rest of ISCA) about how Jerry Lewis reacted to his caricature . . . he first called up Friedman and left a less-than-delighted sounding message, saying he wanted to discuss his appearance in this caricature book. Friedman finally got the nerve to call him back and Jerry said, in his over-the-top high-pitched Jerry Lewis voice said "I LOVE IT!"<br />
<br />
As I have said before, racialized features are a hot button--yet, if you think logically on it, isn't erasing or ignoring that feature way more offensive than celebrating it? If a feature has become identified as indicative of a certain race, then downplaying it would be dishonest and disrespectful. It says "I like you as a comedian, but wow, if I draw your nose the way it is you'll look JEWISH and that would be AWFUL, so I'll clean you up a bit and de-Jew you . . . there, isn't that better?" How condescending. My motto is that if a caricature is done with love, if the intent is celebration, then try and look at the art with that in mind.<br />
<br />
Plenty of caricatures are done in celebration. If you want to take a tour of funny-looking caricatures of well-loved comedians, start with a search of "Robin Williams caricature" on google and see how many drawings make fun of his nose (not to mention his body hair, his beady eyes, his chin, and his lipless grin). With his recent death, many many artists took to the internet and posted their drawings of him out of respect and love. No one was trying to skewer the guy.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4p3USdgwefQizbXPzlRMuQ6hvVvaXzeg1daopAlz4bDDc78fMj2XopVDIBTEGLIBl57S2zoxqZXzAo5eNoIe_a20cMOVhmmD_uBRdPvhHSaQPNpxeSzdMJqRFKgPt4SjPHG4fWNEic5Fc/s1600/Robincollage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4p3USdgwefQizbXPzlRMuQ6hvVvaXzeg1daopAlz4bDDc78fMj2XopVDIBTEGLIBl57S2zoxqZXzAo5eNoIe_a20cMOVhmmD_uBRdPvhHSaQPNpxeSzdMJqRFKgPt4SjPHG4fWNEic5Fc/s1600/Robincollage.jpg" height="307" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Robin Williams caricatures by Paul Moyse, Anthony Geoffroy, and Jeff Stahl.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Robin is missed, and loved, by so many who make their living going for laughs--be it in the standup arena or on paper in theme parks and yes, State Fairs. These caricatures really do well at capturing his expression and evoking the feeling of who he was. I cannot imagine him complaining about how his nose grandly protrudes and dips below his mouth in all these depictions. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqf1aK_xyIoFVIwixGBI6SEdNdDUe2Zt5Pem5hISPgnsQqthLlccGoTVvtGCXET-QoZueGiF37hnhJ-HWbsdOIWLVglGy9H6Ojlkk02ttnVK8D5-vjiMHH3jv3yanU8hwiRM5a3iPvMY_f/s1600/jennifer-grey-plastic-surgery-nose-job.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqf1aK_xyIoFVIwixGBI6SEdNdDUe2Zt5Pem5hISPgnsQqthLlccGoTVvtGCXET-QoZueGiF37hnhJ-HWbsdOIWLVglGy9H6Ojlkk02ttnVK8D5-vjiMHH3jv3yanU8hwiRM5a3iPvMY_f/s1600/jennifer-grey-plastic-surgery-nose-job.jpg" height="296" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anyone remember Jennifer Grey? She had a face, a<br />
memorable cute face. Then she erased it. Still cute, but<br />
now more meh-morable than memorable.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Of course, it bears mentioning that the female "Old Jewish Comedian" that Friedman caricatured in his aforementioned books was Joan Rivers, who herself became an icon representing plastic surgery and the constant re-surfacing the female face apparently needs in order to stay famous. Sigh. Now, Joan wore it as a badge and was brashly unapologetic about her surgeries. And I agree that it's totally her right to do what she wants to her body and face. But I'm talking as a viewer and a caricature artist: man, what I wouldn't give to see what she would have looked like at the age of 80 without any nips, tucks, and smoothing out.<br />
<br />
Too many women with great noses, or great unique features, are hacking them off and smoothing them out once they arrive to Hollywood. And I'm not sure doing so really does them any favors. Pretty might be pretty but it's a dime a dozen. Barbie doll features are only good for so long, and they're interchangeable. I'd like to think that stand-up comics are akin to caricature artists in that they have developed a really fine-tuned ability to make fun of themselves, and one another. <a href="https://www.louisck.net/">Louis CK</a> has elevated self-deprecation and making fun of his schlumpy, aging ginger appearance into an art form. Anyone who has seen a celebrity roast knows these guys (and gals) can really take it and dish it out when it comes to lampooning each other. A big-nose drawing should not truly rankle any comedian.<br />
<br />
I'm glad Ms. Peretti's nose is still intact, and if her reaction to Jeff was an honest one, I hope she eventually gets a little more loosened up about having it drawn. If Robin Williams is any example, the more famous and beloved you become as a comic, the more people will be drawing you. Many of these drawings will have big noses, because you have a big nose. Some will be exaggerated, because that is what caricature does. And you have a choice at how you react to this. You can try and bully the artists one by one into removing hashtags and taking down their work (just, if this is the way you go, beware the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Streisand_effect">Streisand Effect</a>) . . . or you can embrace any caricatures you find as proof that you are getting more widely known and beloved.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqx5JWp6SLdG_imjUYN2l9Ef4JGMBgRdJ0Ef9ki5c9D5peV8YcN8jGVMZgQOpvY64NEOXmB9Efh4Q8X_XbFLcXsRjgcd3Jvceq4CF282ozjWvXNP2tfn8I2AkLUEJXTFGw1hFQdOCKyaK/s1600/Chelsea-tame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCqx5JWp6SLdG_imjUYN2l9Ef4JGMBgRdJ0Ef9ki5c9D5peV8YcN8jGVMZgQOpvY64NEOXmB9Efh4Q8X_XbFLcXsRjgcd3Jvceq4CF282ozjWvXNP2tfn8I2AkLUEJXTFGw1hFQdOCKyaK/s1600/Chelsea-tame.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From John Martinez's deviant art page, part of a larger<br />
collection he did of the whole Brooklyn Nine Nine cast.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Realize, too, that putting time and effort into doing a detailed sketch of someone, studying their face, pulling out their features bit by bit and seeing how it all works together and exactly<i> how far</i> you can stretch a big nose while keeping the readability of the likeness--that task in itself requires love. I did a search online for "Caricatures Chelsea Peretti" and found very little. And the one actual pro-level drawing that did turn up (on the 3rd page of results finally) was elegant and well done but very tame as caricature goes. As of this blog writing, it had one comment: "You got all of her details without exaggerating too much." Sigh. Someone sensitive to big noses might say the lack of caricatures is a relief. To me it looks like a sad lack of love. <br />
<br />
As for my end, I promise to do my best and refrain from going onto young comedian's Twitter or Instagram feeds to compare them to Hitler and hope that they die. Because, you know, that might stifle their artistic development.<br />
<br />
And Jeff, I too hope you make your living as a caricature artist. You're damn good at it, boo boo.CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-91911292663881214642014-12-07T23:08:00.002-08:002014-12-31T03:33:04.280-08:00The 2014 ISCA Con!Well, another con has come and gone. From November 16th through November 21st, the Peppermill resort in Reno, Nevada, was overrun by a band of nearly 200 hooligan caricature artists from all parts of the globe. The annual gathering for the <a href="http://www.caricature.org/">International Society for Caricature Artists</a> did not disappoint this year. Along with the standard camaraderie, liberal drinking, mutual admiration, inspiring artwork, and stunning display of weird faces (both on the wall and on the artists), this year I also had two unexpected celebrity encounters.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqr4bdxZb0fPNyXDsD5k1VqfO4fWGAcEl6tIzEzw-mcLjDnjzlZqa_HyBG6vAxnN1PdbN65SWfwQAaw83nQ32NYR4k6L1247wQ2H1QiIFWesNbN9DYqG3gYR5Z9HV0nVeImz2IF3MQucy/s1600/blog-renner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqr4bdxZb0fPNyXDsD5k1VqfO4fWGAcEl6tIzEzw-mcLjDnjzlZqa_HyBG6vAxnN1PdbN65SWfwQAaw83nQ32NYR4k6L1247wQ2H1QiIFWesNbN9DYqG3gYR5Z9HV0nVeImz2IF3MQucy/s1600/blog-renner.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sorry, your cover is blown, Hawkeye. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It began, for me, on the very first night of the con, when I spotted Jeremy Renner ("Hawkeye" in the Avenger movies) across the dim casino bar. In Reno. Reno!?? What the hell?--Reno is not exactly a celebrity magnet of a town. In fact, as I sauntered up to Mr. Renner, I fully believed he was just a guy who LOOKED like Jeremy Renner. I planned to ask if I could take a photo as a joke for a friend of mine who is a superfan of Mr. Renner. Well, once I got up close I just stammered, "Uh, I was going to say you look like--but you <i>are</i>." And he said "I am." And he kindly obliged me with a photo (it was dark, sorry) and an autograph for that friend of mine. I bought him the drink he'd just ordered, and he was a patient, classy guy. That friend was overjoyed when I later gave the autograph to her and said the same thing I had: "What on earth was he doing in <i>RENO</i>?" A few other artists got to meet Mr. Renner and chat with him that night . . . I wish I had told him to seek out Joe Bluhm, our resident Oscar winner (Renner has been nominated twice but never won, he could have asked Joe what it was like, hee hee).<br />
<br />
My roommates were delightful, as usual--and the Peppermill rooms in the Tuscany Tower were beyond luxurious: the bathroom was as big as most entire hotel rooms, with its own TV, a double-headed shower, and a bathtub large enough to rehabilitate an injured dolphin. We had a newbie among us this year, my friend and local colleague Celeste Cordova, and it was really fun seeing the convention through the eyes of someone who'd never been.<br />
<br />
The biggest problem I have with the conventions is that I want to do everything. This year I was slated to deliver a seminar on client interactions, and I had done a ton of prep work in my nervousness--but there is always more that can be done, right? My slot had been moved to Friday, so I (foolishly) left a few odds and ends to smooth out during "down time" those first few days of the convention.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEBIINytsMeN8YZPDqEwKoP7aDq_4uDDreRhKw1pt5bYdmO3teSz3FVFUeStlS4rL7bPZs1kc1lSvVAS_QxgE3TiqjLW_XQTvvVAFArpPoKT4EwhvQ-rdcMXSTHDITAhUbbB9x7kfCEzQe/s1600/blog-lar-bacon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEBIINytsMeN8YZPDqEwKoP7aDq_4uDDreRhKw1pt5bYdmO3teSz3FVFUeStlS4rL7bPZs1kc1lSvVAS_QxgE3TiqjLW_XQTvvVAFArpPoKT4EwhvQ-rdcMXSTHDITAhUbbB9x7kfCEzQe/s1600/blog-lar-bacon.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lar and his new accessory, the ART FIGHTS<br />
belt! Along with newly minted prez Nolan Harris.<br />
(photo by Diane LaFlamme)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Down time. Haaaa haa ha. That's hilarious, I crack me up.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<br />
<i>There is no down-time</i> at a convention. For anyone. Finding time to shower and sleep is hard! The opening night icebreaker led right into the Art Fight, which was won this year by the astounding Lar DeSouza, in his full Sailor Bacon regelia, no less! Opening breakfast the next day is early, then followed by seminars--and even though I've seen Caricature 101 about a dozen times, each time is different. <a href="http://www.macgarcia.com/">Mac Garcia</a> did a great job this year talking about what makes a successful caricature and illustrating exaggeration techniques. He also pimped the hell out of <a href="http://www.deadlinedemon.com/">Tom Richmond's The Mad Art of Caricature,</a> which was nice to see (I am not biased one bit when I say it's the best how-to book on the market, for beginners and pros alike).<br />
<br />
Seminars lead into competitions, and even though I've also competed in that darn likeness competition like a dozen times, I still feel like it helps me to see everyone's seven-minute take on the same photographs. Judging it is still a pain in the ass: looking at over a hundred drawings of the same person in innumerable different drawing styles is mind boggling. But I love seeing what people all did <i>differently</i> . . . figuring out which one did it the<i> best</i> is another story entirely!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4lA2y5g2YWNf7omn82PjBZdXgmVXtGHUirUAPGmBqh77ppw0jD3E3zTkVGQgLZZS48MBUVS7ZHExabzxt_NYGKlEmm5D_Ac-NLvN1ZOIlRWXLcFlrYTd8tmWm6v7u54sU2C2Yf8kDb_fM/s1600/blog-likeness-Lorin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4lA2y5g2YWNf7omn82PjBZdXgmVXtGHUirUAPGmBqh77ppw0jD3E3zTkVGQgLZZS48MBUVS7ZHExabzxt_NYGKlEmm5D_Ac-NLvN1ZOIlRWXLcFlrYTd8tmWm6v7u54sU2C2Yf8kDb_fM/s1600/blog-likeness-Lorin.jpg" height="494" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While we looked at the unending array of likeness competition drawings covering the walls, Lorin Bernsen, myself, and Robert noticed we were twinsies (tripletsies?) with our khaki pants and olive Kruger convention shirts.<br />
(photo by Emily Anthony)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The speed competition never gets old, as the adrenaline really takes over when you're sitting in a row of powerhouse speed drawers and going full-guns trying to pump out fifteen-second drawings that still bear a resemblance. I didn't make the final heat, but it's exhilarating to push beyond any personal best you could hope for at even the most fast-paced gig.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxJXh0QkGetgkGKvc7cbdlXrDIYNt_S0BxsWbVigZNx5Tt9VckuaIPqsssn8YKGB1uxNl35vnomgzs7Gi6ML1YF5YznNjIuavIx0FZJ_f352CMMZiZGB6n2ULLXch06FGxYNjF6zRD1EN/s1600/blog-bros.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxJXh0QkGetgkGKvc7cbdlXrDIYNt_S0BxsWbVigZNx5Tt9VckuaIPqsssn8YKGB1uxNl35vnomgzs7Gi6ML1YF5YznNjIuavIx0FZJ_f352CMMZiZGB6n2ULLXch06FGxYNjF6zRD1EN/s1600/blog-bros.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
The party caricature competition was extra spicy this year, thanks to roving hecklers and "problem guests" coached by Baltimore artist and agent extraordinaire Mike Hasson. I was picked to be a whiny bothersome guest, and I think I did a good job irritating and trying to distract competitors . . . but I was nowhere <i>near</i> the level of feigned douchery put on by Nolan Harris and his roving band of drunken bro-dudes. They would circle and then pounce, grabbing at drawing supplies, unplugging all of Jon Casey's cords, kicking easels "accidentally," crowding the artist outrageously to take a group selfie, and even taking the pants off a few unlucky (or lucky?) male artists. They were a sight to see, and it was clearly a form of catharsis for them (and me, and other artists) to take on the role of truly obnoxious drunk guest, a problem we all have to navigate from time to time in our profession. There were multiple types of caricature going on that night: the kind drawn on paper and the play-acted caricature of assholes, imitated and exaggerated perfectly to match the behaviors we gig artists see over and over.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFMZ-Tw4UmvCdPVQhIVaBoBRO8-6Zm3v6zTz3KtbaIJVvyDpeb-tp5PtwRGijk-hC8MhXludavnehwXrH36CBz6iJzHXATeNGS7yhD-sTUQm-6zNkVb2gU58GQix2zVuLGNeG6k-Sk_5x/s1600/blog-manny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvFMZ-Tw4UmvCdPVQhIVaBoBRO8-6Zm3v6zTz3KtbaIJVvyDpeb-tp5PtwRGijk-hC8MhXludavnehwXrH36CBz6iJzHXATeNGS7yhD-sTUQm-6zNkVb2gU58GQix2zVuLGNeG6k-Sk_5x/s1600/blog-manny.jpg" height="236" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What do you do when a drunken, roving band of bros abuses you and then<br />
takes down your pants? If you're Manny, you keep on drawing like a pro<br />
and enjoy the breeze. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzH6Gw-K0W8byQg6X4uRGgD6pNWA1kZsHe9mKb4KUZIwczHdejm6wWlFAV4IqC3Y17r3RYTY45GryqeUSjDEZKDeqL-Bu6v865ZG__yY_MXO1rjKflHRRPqELj7Dtm60Hn-CrVZwKMMAz/s1600/blog-armwrasslin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzH6Gw-K0W8byQg6X4uRGgD6pNWA1kZsHe9mKb4KUZIwczHdejm6wWlFAV4IqC3Y17r3RYTY45GryqeUSjDEZKDeqL-Bu6v865ZG__yY_MXO1rjKflHRRPqELj7Dtm60Hn-CrVZwKMMAz/s1600/blog-armwrasslin.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bat is a southern gentleman and totally let me win.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then, between and after the seminars and competitions, there is always drawing time in the main ballroom. We are all sucked in, like moths to a flame, to that ballroom, and people stay there far longer than even the most dedicated office workers stay chained to their desks. I know I went in there several times intending to spend just a half hour, or an hour . . . and then four hours later I was still working on some details of a sculpture, eyes glazed over, or wandering the room looking at everyone else's awesome works in progress, or taking my turn arm-wrestling some artist from Tennessee while a crowd whoops and yells.<br />
<br />
The whooping and yelling gives way to hugging, dancing, and general merry making. There are a lot of inappropriate displays of affection at ISCA cons. I am not normally a hugger--my friends all know this--but at the con I think I get more hug action than I get during the entire rest of the year combined.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2dLNzuAImiBOXNc-kfZhLYP12G7BGJME1FZeXV4lBkpSs37Bx4lhl1v4sgQYibxDUmjqt6e2lLw0zIGL-MSEtFY99_gn-v8la7p7SG0e1FN7L5-JRAn4BRfATLp9xqSsRu4B4I9nqNC3/s1600/blog-guy-on-guy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2dLNzuAImiBOXNc-kfZhLYP12G7BGJME1FZeXV4lBkpSs37Bx4lhl1v4sgQYibxDUmjqt6e2lLw0zIGL-MSEtFY99_gn-v8la7p7SG0e1FN7L5-JRAn4BRfATLp9xqSsRu4B4I9nqNC3/s1600/blog-guy-on-guy.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was a lot of guy-on-guy inappropriate touching at the con. It was pretty great. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
There is Beau Hufford's really nicely edited, 6-minute wordless, artsy and punk-feeling retrospective video, which features more artists engaged in inappropriate touching, and dancing, and balloon phalluses.<br />
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And there was this super sexy lineup of ISCA butts (my favorite would have to be Mike Graessle's).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh58uFXGwttB_JFLiMCgI4q_-mfiQMCWpkFBwuEP28XSSiQeuUmG4fTts2VDwHAjpSfehu6dp3rT5p7BZOkZJQEw2SU0QImVGomO6j4G0NM2FtSim-GG8tJ0twgeb1ZScrQiq0LE9f_uoGP/s1600/blog-butts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh58uFXGwttB_JFLiMCgI4q_-mfiQMCWpkFBwuEP28XSSiQeuUmG4fTts2VDwHAjpSfehu6dp3rT5p7BZOkZJQEw2SU0QImVGomO6j4G0NM2FtSim-GG8tJ0twgeb1ZScrQiq0LE9f_uoGP/s1600/blog-butts.jpg" height="478" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canadian alcohol, Belgian chocolate<br />
from the lovely (if sleep-deprived)<br />
Liesbeth Beckers, and Johanna with<br />
her licorice of doom.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Another one of the perks of this touchy-feely international "family reunion" of artists is that many people bring snacks from their homelands. I baked pumpkin scones and laid them out one night, where folks snapped them up. Lar brought his maple goodness in the form of both cookies and vodka infused with that flavor. The Belgians brought chocolate, bless their souls. And Johanna Veerenhuis filled up a giant fishbowl of what she <i>claimed</i> was strong salted Dutch licorice but I suspect was really burned bits of Sculpey she was trying to poison me with. That would be just like her.<br />
<br />
Anyway, between sculpting at my little work station next to the delightful Kamal Dollah of Singapore, I spent time wandering and chatting here and there, and found myself sampling Lar's maple vodka <i>and</i> his pumpkin whiskey, <i>plus</i> a little Kahlua just to see what that flavor would bring to the party . . . and it wasn't long before I was waving off the red solo cups and saying I could not possibly drink more than a sip, as I had to get upstairs and draw a picture of myself poisoning a well for my seminar slide show. Lar, that dear heart and super prolific web comic artist, said "Oh, that sounds like a fun drawing!" and began sketching it out effortlessly on his Cinitq. Within minutes he had the layout of a beautiful visual aid for my seminar. I didn't mean to Tom Sawyer him into doing my work for me, but somehow I ended up getting a wonderful addition to my slide lineup AND I got to get tipsy and hang out that night. Thank you, Lar. <br />
<br />
There were some key folks missing, who we will hopefully see next year. One ISCA couple, Court and Debbo Jones-Burmeister, were away on their honeymoon, and another ISCA couple, Glenn and Joanne Ferguson, were busy planning their wedding, which just took place! We missed you guys and hope to see you next year. See what all this drinking and inappropriate touching leads to? Sheesh. Speaking of which, we missed you too, Michael White!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsfN8I6CknwzOv1s9XLNEDDuWvBrjEntjdjMgoqBGYFkfrI0j0EfB3p0MoDa39TelPg4zt4oGFugO_7Y01Vow00qRZliUSE8hFjRZRl8IXMXzzvQT0MYhZVDP1U5aSqD_ij9Bg4jifxF9a/s1600/blog-jert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsfN8I6CknwzOv1s9XLNEDDuWvBrjEntjdjMgoqBGYFkfrI0j0EfB3p0MoDa39TelPg4zt4oGFugO_7Y01Vow00qRZliUSE8hFjRZRl8IXMXzzvQT0MYhZVDP1U5aSqD_ij9Bg4jifxF9a/s1600/blog-jert.jpg" height="259" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">JERT ALERT!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The seminar lineup was varied and inspirational, and, in a strange twist, seemed to have an underlying theme of "There Can Be Life beyond Caricature!" We heard the fuzzy, cuddly Jert (<a href="http://www.jert.co/">Jeremy Townsend</a>) talk candidly about how the unrelenting business of live retail caricature was killing him, psychologically, back when he did it full-time. He shared some anecdotes about his young life as a working class kid who loved to draw and was fascinated with faces, and he recounted advice from guidance counselors that just sounded soul-crushing. They told him if he liked to draw he should focus on architectural drafting so he could draw plans for houses. I paraphrase, but he said something like "Draft plans for houses? <i>Fuck that</i>, am I right?" It resounded with the room, as I'm pretty sure we had all been through similar meetings with guidance counselors as youngsters, and we all had thought <i>fuck that</i>. As he showed us a video chock-full of Jert's brand of delightfully disturbing violent cartoon images, he explained how he nevertheless used what those long years of caricature had taught him, incorporating those skills into his current career as a sought-after artist for concert posters, beer labels, and alternative art collectors.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://stephenfishwick.com/">Steve Fishwick</a> rallied the room to get excited about their potential and reach for success, as he took us on a tour of his rise--from caricaturing at a typical theme park stand to learning about licensing, making vital contacts and networking, launching his own gallery, and producing fine art for Disney and many other major properties. He talked about how valuable his partnership with <a href="http://www.beauhufford.com/">Beau Hufford</a> has been, as artists need trusted people who can critique their work honestly (and harshly!) and help bring it to the next level. And, kudos to Steve, he actually gave his talk TWICE, since a video snafu resulted in some last-minute rearranging of the seminar schedule and people hoping to see his seminar had unexpectedly missed out.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivuNxrv5T9KtBnVII79AjewpOhj1JtziZLS7B8h5gNqMGnte0pm7QfyZYHuymM-SiMULFgfM8uyOOuBZfBvXJJSR2NwCQprQpoisvmUTeKyW8EaReEKWbUCvFzoeKK592gnCW2FYRuQwkS/s1600/blog-joe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivuNxrv5T9KtBnVII79AjewpOhj1JtziZLS7B8h5gNqMGnte0pm7QfyZYHuymM-SiMULFgfM8uyOOuBZfBvXJJSR2NwCQprQpoisvmUTeKyW8EaReEKWbUCvFzoeKK592gnCW2FYRuQwkS/s1600/blog-joe.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joe doing a quick color demo of what he thinks Popeye and Sting's love<br />
child would look like... wait, I mean Jamie Rockwell. (Photo: Tad Barney)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Joe Bluhm gave two presentations: one was a digital speed-painting demo, and the other was a career retrospective. I was pleased to see that Joe really spent some time talking about his early days in Sea World and what being a caricature artist in the retail trenches instilled in him--and he provided plenty of photos to go along with that early part of his career. That career has (so far) culminated in multiple awards for his animation and designs at <a href="http://www.moonbotstudios.com/">Moonbot Studios</a>, the animation house that put out 2011's Oscar-winning short, "The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore," as well as the familiar animated Chipotle ad with that slender, depressed scarecrow and haunting vocals by Fiona Apple. We were treated to a sneak peek at some projects Joe has worked on or is currently working in, including some Woody the Woodpecker reboot test footage and a beautiful, dark, gothic animated short film of Edgar Allen Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado." Joe's birthday happened to coincide with the day he was giving the presentation, so board members and a few others kindly ambushed him with a birthday cake, a song, and about eight gallons of silly string at the end of his talk. It was pretty adorable.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Bkij1YYgxmsLgHys_j8hqwMXQLw3u8pPlGSnAXvozY21lCS6nb0vb3ub9YPGpPSeJMaG-aDFWhwfrqbY9eVWwkWxCBqSmzUOQjnnBdUoYTZD4oXKFrI844eA_WVs1uxpZIa8utAuQDqb/s1600/blog-kruger-et-al.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Bkij1YYgxmsLgHys_j8hqwMXQLw3u8pPlGSnAXvozY21lCS6nb0vb3ub9YPGpPSeJMaG-aDFWhwfrqbY9eVWwkWxCBqSmzUOQjnnBdUoYTZD4oXKFrI844eA_WVs1uxpZIa8utAuQDqb/s1600/blog-kruger-et-al.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dry witted Jeff Redford, with Sebastian Kruger and<br />
Joe Bluhm (Photo from Jeff Redford).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Sebastian Kruger was our guest of honor, let's not leave him out. His business manager, Bernd Schoenebaum, did a lot of the talking during the video presentation that featured Kruger's work. This great master of caricature seems to have taken a turn recently in his painting: "he has aesthetically moved away from a stylistic 'star caricaturist' to New Pop Realism, pushing his rendered subjects into a psychological arena" according to his website. Some artists asked him about why he was departing from caricature, and his answers were spare and minimal, but amounted to "well, I did caricature, this is the next thing," if I may paraphrase. He nevertheless was kind and mingled much more with the artists than I remember happening the last time he attended the convention, some twelve or thirteen years ago. He also drew live for a special gold-members-only reception, producing a caricature of Keith Richards and a highly rendered skull (both of which he kindly donated to the ISCA fundraising auction).<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWOVBUQxsBGO6_-vFd2oXN8wRbnNiVZeP-jfN6jVx6YGnGSkYihhsec0kiz07nVhU1p3g6078pPUe8VHLThDha8vz7s3sX6Lu6F4daXv_aV8M2-0bWEHZZrqFCEXlKQzyin22Q8bWGVYz/s1600/blog-kru-lic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWOVBUQxsBGO6_-vFd2oXN8wRbnNiVZeP-jfN6jVx6YGnGSkYihhsec0kiz07nVhU1p3g6078pPUe8VHLThDha8vz7s3sX6Lu6F4daXv_aV8M2-0bWEHZZrqFCEXlKQzyin22Q8bWGVYz/s1600/blog-kru-lic.jpg" height="156" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kruger gets a tits-eye-view of Johanna's<br />
version of me. Watch out for that bowl <br />
of licorice, Sebastian! It's poisoned!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
During Sebastian's walkabout in the ballroom, I got to chat a little with him myself. And I got to ask him about his one experience, as a teenager, doing party gig caricatures. Ha! He really hated it, he said. And it was because of "the people" he told me, the overbearing guests at the party who strong-armed him into staying way past his paid time. I used that in my seminar, it was a fun little interaction. It's hard to imagine ANYONE strong-arming Sebastian Kruger into anything these days!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs007y2r7IBuYTGF2lAAJqvLCoYQm_pyPJ9x3m4MhADY8TLlJ8Ex93_fBvqcrhZRMVorzuYSpe7ymAKWablQ7EzUcDNWkbwjxmi7uKiKYywV_D75_UxlUfl8_g7OVLBIzF-NEgUv01Jj9_/s1600/blog-bigreveal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs007y2r7IBuYTGF2lAAJqvLCoYQm_pyPJ9x3m4MhADY8TLlJ8Ex93_fBvqcrhZRMVorzuYSpe7ymAKWablQ7EzUcDNWkbwjxmi7uKiKYywV_D75_UxlUfl8_g7OVLBIzF-NEgUv01Jj9_/s1600/blog-bigreveal.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Verrrrry funny, Johanna. Verrrry funny. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Meanwhile, my Netherlandic nemesis, Johanna, was working on a semi-secret sculpting project. I was so busy putting the finishing touches on my seminar that I barely noticed enough to get curious, but BOY did I get an eyeful when it was revealed. She had chosen to re-create Botticelli's Venus, but with her sculpting nemesis (me) as the model. Once she had most of the sculpting done, our pal Emily took me over and I think they laid bets as to whether I'd be flattered or furious. Of course I was flattered. Johanna's phone camera was filled with sneaky pictures of me (and quite a few of my rear end!) that she had taken over the first day of the con.<br />
<br />
The finished piece was truly breathtaking. And, true to ISCA tradition, I got to take it home with me and keep it forever, where it shall sit on a shelf and make my stepchildren uncomfortable for many days to come.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8pYHhW7hj1FsyYXciy4ldyBRM9-LxosE-BxQe9vBmTwT58HHInS1FmGfxr561Evck6x_07cB3YaQ6yijsqvMlbPCd0sHgxjOFud55jkDBfed5MJP4qqfP3dd9aftCtN3-RwLNW4mO9-pa/s1600/blog-butticelli.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8pYHhW7hj1FsyYXciy4ldyBRM9-LxosE-BxQe9vBmTwT58HHInS1FmGfxr561Evck6x_07cB3YaQ6yijsqvMlbPCd0sHgxjOFud55jkDBfed5MJP4qqfP3dd9aftCtN3-RwLNW4mO9-pa/s1600/blog-butticelli.jpg" height="478" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's been a while since my boobs stood at attention like that, but I'll take it. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I, meanwhile, was busying myself on a little project so that I could at least say I produced one piece during the con. Longtime itinerant artist and friend Sam Klemke and his fair lady Kathlynne Moonfire were both attending this year, and I jumped at the chance to do a matching set of the two of them, on a little stand made of teensy tiny caricatures.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULQ5H6rTowROdvTPkzOJhYsiNj5y5BECb1clWkR1ITxyJTYF8gUdu3d2-F5c6EQSvp0b2n3ssnCZBecOgC7WiyUBZSbVKgPXswFbdxSnaoWcIn8ZfOFiRnNpuuWIPDVvKU54ItRc9E0GK/s1600/blog-s-and-K.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULQ5H6rTowROdvTPkzOJhYsiNj5y5BECb1clWkR1ITxyJTYF8gUdu3d2-F5c6EQSvp0b2n3ssnCZBecOgC7WiyUBZSbVKgPXswFbdxSnaoWcIn8ZfOFiRnNpuuWIPDVvKU54ItRc9E0GK/s1600/blog-s-and-K.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sam was most pleased to see I gave him a Super-8 camera that reminded him of the one he owned for years.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And I had mentioned not one but two celebrity encounters. This second celebrity wasn't just your typical Hollywood actor type. During one of the many hours I sat sculpting in the ballroom, an unassuming fellow with a shaved head and glasses walked over and noticed my James Randi sculpture (which I had just moved from the studio judging table). "Hey, that's James Randi!" he said. "Yeah!" I said, pleased that someone recognized him--Randi's not a household name, but in certain circles he is a demigod of reason. "I know him," said the fellow.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPI39L_spqF-FhQNU4cEQO7qaOAV4w2HOdQ5-qo51HURiGNB_Pk2nTBgPky7Yrq5QPZJEZXdsJ4CW9J9ynidxlGeB80-WnOJtbQGEwqzvfnOvdLLSnp2rRtJj7AWc_zWn5KPETO9oTZjj/s1600/benrad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTPI39L_spqF-FhQNU4cEQO7qaOAV4w2HOdQ5-qo51HURiGNB_Pk2nTBgPky7Yrq5QPZJEZXdsJ4CW9J9ynidxlGeB80-WnOJtbQGEwqzvfnOvdLLSnp2rRtJj7AWc_zWn5KPETO9oTZjj/s1600/benrad.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben Radford, author, paranormal investigator, and skeptic; he<br />
contributes to Snopes.com, edits the <i>Skeptical Inquirer, </i>founded<br />
the skeptic track at DragonCon, and once killed a <br />
rabid chupacabra with his bare hands<i>.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I looked at the name badge of this (I assumed) unfamiliar artist. Benjamin Radford. "You're Benjmain Radford?" I said. "THE Benjamin Radford?" And just like Jeremy Renner earlier in the week, he said "I am." But he was a bit more taken aback that someone knew who he was. He is only famous in certain circles, and one would not expect the skeptic circle to intersect much with the caricature art circle in the Venn diagram of life. But that day I happened to be wearing my <a href="http://www.theskepticsguide.org/">Skeptic's Guide to the Universe</a> t-shirt, plus I'm a regular listener to a few skeptic podcasts that Mr. Radford has been a part of, and I have read some of his writings and even heard him speak at the Amazing Meeting once or twice. I definitely knew who he was, though I didn't know him by his <i>face,</i> just his voice and his writing.<br />
<br />
All of this escaped me at the moment, as I stammered "You do the thing, on the show, podcast, Monstertalk, I've heard you--you write stuff, I know your name! You're Ben Radford!" He helped fill in the holes as I butchered his CV, and I dragged him around the room to introduce him to a few other skeptic types I knew in the caricature community. Ben and I went down the list and found we knew a few people in common; like the caricature world, the skeptic world is also one that doesn't have too many degrees of separation.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-o8mLSLcQv_MiLc7c3NfqYb6nB0SzPLx73NSf7jk_RfmWRVcGPc9C7QjyZPPHPsMZ8Jm502uQwDb72_Apd72nbVszAxoQ1IyjgFLAIofZ4ZZPYdCVc5efLp6MARXRq_yrm3CwJd-5y2D/s1600/blog-ben-card.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-o8mLSLcQv_MiLc7c3NfqYb6nB0SzPLx73NSf7jk_RfmWRVcGPc9C7QjyZPPHPsMZ8Jm502uQwDb72_Apd72nbVszAxoQ1IyjgFLAIofZ4ZZPYdCVc5efLp6MARXRq_yrm3CwJd-5y2D/s1600/blog-ben-card.png" height="320" width="215" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben is also featured on one of the<br />
Skeptic Trump Cards, a series drawn by<br />
the talented and prolific Neil Davies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But--what the bloody hell was a skeptic doing at a <i>caricature</i> con? His badge read "guest," and I asked whose guest he was, thinking he must be married to, or related to, or good friends with one of the participating artists. Nope. He said he was just a fan of caricatures as an art form. He had come across the ISCA website while doing a search online and saw that there was a convention ("it seemed oddly understated for a con," he said later). On a lark, he had registered and bought himself a plane ticket to come see what happens at a caricature con. I was kind of stunned. NO ONE does that. At least no one had done that in prior years. We have had some persons of note walk through our ballrooms in the past, as a "special guest" of sorts: Teller (of Penn &) had showed up and looked at all the art years ago when the con was in Vegas, and, in San Diego, sitcom actor Patrick Warburton ("The Tick") had been brought in by one of the artists who was a personal friend of his. But, to my knowledge, no civilian had ever chosen to seek us out and embed with us through an entire con.<br />
<br />
Ben is an investigator by trade, so it's no wonder he discovered our little five-day slice of artistic bedlam. Might others come next year? Is that even a good idea, or would it taint what we have all come to love as a closed-door, be-yourself, draw-crazy, screw-the-public type of event where the hoi polloi aren't really allowed in? Should we welcome the the public a bit more? Or should we kidnap and torture Ben to make sure he never reveals the whereabouts of our convention to any other muggles? Hmmm.<br />
<br />
The ISCA convention (back when it was the NCN convention) used to have a big "public day" that was promoted through press releases and seen as an outreach event, to raise public appreciation of the art form, where one day--or several hours, at least--was set aside as a "free entrance" time for members of the general population to wander in and look at the art. I forget what led to the organization abandoning the practice. It may have been lack of turnout, or even theft (I do recall some art supplies and/or computer equipment going missing, way back when, but cannot recall details). Or it may have just been forgotten as time marches on. Watching Ben, who is an enthusiast but not a professional artist, walk around and admire the walls, made me wonder if inviting the public back into our cons might be a fun thing to do. Or if we should just keep ourselves to ourselves, and only reward the intrepid few who discover us and seek us out. It's an interesting question, something for the current board members to consider (in addition to the eleven billion other little details they have to consider!) . . . for the <a href="http://caricature.org/news/view/15-The-2015-Covention-Location-revealed/">NEXT CONVENTION</a>, which is planned to happen at the <a href="http://www.kalahariresorts.com/ohio">Kalahari water park resort</a> in Sandusky, Ohio, and will have as special guests <a href="http://jasonseiler.com/">Jason Seiler</a> and <a href="http://www.cfpayne.com/">CF Payne</a>!<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9EPyAwm7tAk2JXLFA8DFnE_h565d8brxbSxcaGJ4GbUe7d11w3psFGQca9g6T3OWcX8smDYP-MclhNVJv_uE_rsULkzvEGptYd6gH7VulfNmBaslYTmmVYe5KuqIx8LoOZ6YR22b0Oos/s1600/blog-me&Rob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE9EPyAwm7tAk2JXLFA8DFnE_h565d8brxbSxcaGJ4GbUe7d11w3psFGQca9g6T3OWcX8smDYP-MclhNVJv_uE_rsULkzvEGptYd6gH7VulfNmBaslYTmmVYe5KuqIx8LoOZ6YR22b0Oos/s1600/blog-me&Rob.jpg" height="320" width="292" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robert and I, looking all fancy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The new location was announced at the awards night, along with the many awards. I also gave my seminar, finally, that morning to a surprisingly large crowd (I honestly expected most everyone to be in their rooms hung-over and catching up on sleep after the week's full-court-press of funny picture making). But it went okay, no one booed, and I made it through without hyperventilating or passing gas. Well, without audibly passing gas. Going through what I talked about would require way more space than this blog has, but folks who want a copy of my notes are welcome to message me and ask.<br />
<br />
But, awards night! We all got to dress up and have a nice slab of prime rib with all the fixins, run around and take photos, and admire all the outfits. There was a gaggle of beautiful ladies in kimonos, Mae Adao in her clever Queen Victoria-inspired black lace frock, and Anne Bush mostly contained in a stunning bowed corset. The guys ranged from GQ to "Gee, blue jeans?" but they all cleaned up pretty well. All the outfits helped us bide our time as we awaited the announcement of the nosey winners. Prior to that there was the fundraiser auction (that Kruger original went for major cash, congrats to the dedicated Nolan Harris on his purchase!) all the OTHER awards, which I'm not going to list here, but the whole rundown will show up in the next <i>Exaggerated Features. </i><br />
<br />
Speaking of <i>Exaggerated Features</i>, editress-in-chief Debbie Burmeister and newly minted Mr. Burmeister (Court Jones) made an appearance via video and announced the winner of the Facebook challenge drawing.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidSrzEBE_HHw8ApR9jW7R9gM2UXEtRyP2EPuLYG11D04HDsM0VpHTvYEf35MhVdAtDlycK4sfpZ-WH2kXXmOqM2igSMk3sYgkFshizehOswpIkgGHBr8dZxMQ-B_fC56uJfcPrzJnIjJrn/s1600/blog-mongol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidSrzEBE_HHw8ApR9jW7R9gM2UXEtRyP2EPuLYG11D04HDsM0VpHTvYEf35MhVdAtDlycK4sfpZ-WH2kXXmOqM2igSMk3sYgkFshizehOswpIkgGHBr8dZxMQ-B_fC56uJfcPrzJnIjJrn/s1600/blog-mongol.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mongolians in the hiz-ouse!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As I expected, I sadly did not place this year in the 3D category, nor did I deserve to! While it was fun making the piece for Sam and Kathlynne, there were some really awesome sculptures this year that blew mine away. And Johanna, who had used me as her curvaceous muse, did indeed take home the trophy for first place. But at least I didn't fall for that poisoned licorice of hers.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
One of the standouts that I began to take notice of was the short, unassuming Mongolian artist Gambaatar Choimbol, who was here at his first convention and had brought his wife and young daughter. His work had a quick savagery to the linework, fun to look at and very passionate. There was a likeness, but also a viciousness to it. His watercolor and ink had an energy that was refreshing and new (and there's not much that seems new after so many cons!). It reminded me of Gerald Scarfe or David Levine, but with a primitive flair. And I wasn't the only one who liked his work--Mr. Choimbol took to the stage at least half a dozen times to collect awards, all the time bringing his young daughter along for the ride. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp5jh49TTl_lxXml4o4DJbZx3zfjLyFcab__kirrMm3eHynqGAN_aevOB71UJ-oU-O0x_0vvqU_6yIM_iVZgDQ9kJXrO-0xEykvA4RYDDmm4W2nqxBlNXZ7kWpQaAzu_ZuDp7lbWRQce6_/s1600/blog-me-n-Joh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp5jh49TTl_lxXml4o4DJbZx3zfjLyFcab__kirrMm3eHynqGAN_aevOB71UJ-oU-O0x_0vvqU_6yIM_iVZgDQ9kJXrO-0xEykvA4RYDDmm4W2nqxBlNXZ7kWpQaAzu_ZuDp7lbWRQce6_/s1600/blog-me-n-Joh.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At awards night, old rivalries are forgotten. I even forgave<br />
Johanna for the whole licorice thing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The drive back was also an adventure! I filled my SUV full of crazy caricature artists then we headed up to Virginia City, toured an abandoned mine, drove through rural Nevada, stayed the night at Tonopah's famously creepy Clown Motel, then hit Rhyolite and saw "The Venus of Nevada" (a 25-foot-tall pink cinderblock sculpture--it looks kind of like Minecraft porn), then drove through parts of Death Valley and took a bunch of neat photos that would make good album covers if we ever form a band . . . phew! It was a pretty packed, awesome roadtrip. But that's a story for another time.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_SNfmZvLCuSiU4OfjqDtUi4hxlYOiME02QGEA-KlgfuKQN-DhjmpufLNR_fmjYrm2r3DUc04w9WT-jkaDVksueXyaOGwUSM6nNoWxSYX8Hd6zR7TQ8mXD6MWLIeADhYXTMHD-iBbm4VM/s1600/blog-albumcover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG_SNfmZvLCuSiU4OfjqDtUi4hxlYOiME02QGEA-KlgfuKQN-DhjmpufLNR_fmjYrm2r3DUc04w9WT-jkaDVksueXyaOGwUSM6nNoWxSYX8Hd6zR7TQ8mXD6MWLIeADhYXTMHD-iBbm4VM/s1600/blog-albumcover.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three Las Vegans and a Philadelphian stand on rocks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-32655062501218150652014-10-11T07:57:00.001-07:002014-10-21T10:58:22.608-07:00Ebola Shmebola, Texas is TexasWell, looks like my initial fears about fair attendance dropping never came to pass. Here we are a week and a half later and we once again have record-breaking crowds. Even the weeknights have all pushed our stamina. <div><br></div><div>I'm typing this out on the morning of the Red River Rivalry, the Texas-OU game that marks the busiest day of the state fair. Not necessarily OUR busiest day, as football fans are not caricature buyers, esoecially before the game--they just want beer, fried food, and noisemakers. We had to open at an ungodly 8am today after a pounding thunderstorm kept us all up half the night. Only to sit, shivering, as we are serenaded by chants of "Texas . . . Sucks!" and "O.U. CAN LICK MY BALLS!" Plus random screaming and WOOOOOOO!!!!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWBiq0xLzyf-39Mrn9F6JpRlc4BB1vDOIPWRWp4qCjxoUB1g4c23WJoywJ0gRyfS6nW2x5COVOUkSwrUxSv3_bzxfUi7aS57rzy_oHva3rBjKLUPFYail1UaMg66LyKM5C3kXNxHy-SpR/s640/blogger-image-471080956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWBiq0xLzyf-39Mrn9F6JpRlc4BB1vDOIPWRWp4qCjxoUB1g4c23WJoywJ0gRyfS6nW2x5COVOUkSwrUxSv3_bzxfUi7aS57rzy_oHva3rBjKLUPFYail1UaMg66LyKM5C3kXNxHy-SpR/s640/blogger-image-471080956.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Here they are, streaming into the Cotton Bowl like a herd of red- and orange-shirted zombies. </div><div><br></div><div>But it'll get busy soon enough. I did just draw two drunk 50-year-old women at 8:45 am. Their husbands came by and showed off the T-shirt they'd bought that stated "I came to Dallas for the Texas-OU game and all I got was EBOLA."</div><div><br></div><div>Yeah, Texas is the honey badger of states. Not much rattles them here. In fact, this guy I drew last week is a career serviceman, and he said he was leaving soon to go help build three hospitals in Liberia. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOptPVa_w_OQLcjtMbFBnDn3zLOdzysNRGE7JxHlWl36BDhgZZyqAroGP3E_sEA4EAleZa4T5zNhaTEgoc1le5Nhm9UVspP-Fi08BTvIkmA6LTFEhcI34hgrxpx1l0OmUg42NpEJxq5twV/s640/blogger-image--288896339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOptPVa_w_OQLcjtMbFBnDn3zLOdzysNRGE7JxHlWl36BDhgZZyqAroGP3E_sEA4EAleZa4T5zNhaTEgoc1le5Nhm9UVspP-Fi08BTvIkmA6LTFEhcI34hgrxpx1l0OmUg42NpEJxq5twV/s640/blogger-image--288896339.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Talk about bravery and doing good work. Made me wish I had drawn his eyes less crooked. </div><div><br></div><div>I'm writing later now, finishing this post while on the plane home. Just remembering how god-awful crowded it got that day of the OU-Texas game gives me anxiety. Here's a glimpse of the crowd pressed up on our booth--they were shoulder-to-shoulder pretty much everywhere, moving slowly except for random impatient darters (who often tried cutting RIGHT THROUGH our booth!). Ugh. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZopsuwiXJWiTRdltxN0JYDwGV1G3RtORmq7pUEXVpth6OLeLvuycpczO75K8nr3DruvLPAyTkyQhp9nw81Zk-rFbrfPEU28h1cjx-eLDi6uiWmU9mAsyjcCVXOZQOKy9piMCydw8l_ql/s640/blogger-image--1739619374.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZopsuwiXJWiTRdltxN0JYDwGV1G3RtORmq7pUEXVpth6OLeLvuycpczO75K8nr3DruvLPAyTkyQhp9nw81Zk-rFbrfPEU28h1cjx-eLDi6uiWmU9mAsyjcCVXOZQOKy9piMCydw8l_ql/s640/blogger-image--1739619374.jpg"></a></div>Yeah, that's Emily Anthony trying to make her way back from a bathroom break. It was very insane right after the game let out. </div><div><br></div><div>And Oklahoma won, which allowed me to use this nifty gag when I got a "mixed fan" couple:</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7bD-DUzYaEMjE3DZG18FXdniYC69T_z331GbcLg1aDn3-u4jpJm7luX0KkhnFk7CeUYK9dX7pRQAzqsowNwz5RxJUmHPLUFvGU37ORiHoMTBVcJ6RZ5NDqhPHcHR-SDv-Zn5VDCpqh1A/s640/blogger-image-642013501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7bD-DUzYaEMjE3DZG18FXdniYC69T_z331GbcLg1aDn3-u4jpJm7luX0KkhnFk7CeUYK9dX7pRQAzqsowNwz5RxJUmHPLUFvGU37ORiHoMTBVcJ6RZ5NDqhPHcHR-SDv-Zn5VDCpqh1A/s640/blogger-image-642013501.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div>The parade of "regulars" has increased, seems like. I have a few special folks I remember well from year to year, including one young lady who has been drawn by me seven years running--and what an awesome metamorphosis. From a doughy, shy, anime-loving tween this girl has blossomed into an athletic, tall, well-spoken young adult who fights in real boxing matches! This year she asked me to draw her fighting the Russian from Rocky IV, and to stick her coach in there. Normally none of us would EVER add so many bells & whistles to a non-studio caricature, but seven years of kindness and good tips can earn special dispensation!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiLDUc4d_IK_vgNJAuncp59YEAZCgBl6yVfPpI3Ra0oGtFFIZC6k6hgRuQMaK3b9kbTAt308j9_d8xIyILKiOzxNkBJUYnMstIC2wUeJ-SuoUDni45y5DaSDSOFjYkaH9Dje_IazqUnFfo/s640/blogger-image--1463061849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiLDUc4d_IK_vgNJAuncp59YEAZCgBl6yVfPpI3Ra0oGtFFIZC6k6hgRuQMaK3b9kbTAt308j9_d8xIyILKiOzxNkBJUYnMstIC2wUeJ-SuoUDni45y5DaSDSOFjYkaH9Dje_IazqUnFfo/s640/blogger-image--1463061849.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div><div>Her family has been drawn a few times as well; a few years back I drew them as Ariel, Ursula, and King Triton. This year her dad wanted to be a demon (to make fun of how scared he gets at horror movies, they said). It's always fun "demonizing" someone in the chair!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ut5NjorQNx8wLWRrlgvWXeY7bNpqv3HFaO49W15DEcDy1U-6_7-GhuA4VaT3PLZp5wDCK2BsK59vTT7uMY-DKXcNzlySd6uhQyxNyVL5NLANDtKWPZMoisEbtEfPkkVjJr-fU2u8BWkX/s640/blogger-image-455546668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ut5NjorQNx8wLWRrlgvWXeY7bNpqv3HFaO49W15DEcDy1U-6_7-GhuA4VaT3PLZp5wDCK2BsK59vTT7uMY-DKXcNzlySd6uhQyxNyVL5NLANDtKWPZMoisEbtEfPkkVjJr-fU2u8BWkX/s640/blogger-image-455546668.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Then, weirdly, within a day or two of drawing the boxing Russian from Rocky IV, I found myself drawing ANOTHER opponent of Rocky's, thanks to this guy's t-shirt:</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkoFKnex8T0pQSP6MFx3QQzo17fXjK_2cVOb-O_y_ubJILOeYiCjjzB0Ujbvg_ptveCOvTUi7qs-xroyml-MzzIrP2vhsIeO5MGJbQQsF55xXwpQx7A0UXo2R1-DU6bstks21Ll23mZXxm/s640/blogger-image--18611470.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkoFKnex8T0pQSP6MFx3QQzo17fXjK_2cVOb-O_y_ubJILOeYiCjjzB0Ujbvg_ptveCOvTUi7qs-xroyml-MzzIrP2vhsIeO5MGJbQQsF55xXwpQx7A0UXo2R1-DU6bstks21Ll23mZXxm/s640/blogger-image--18611470.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Another longtime regular (also in the "7 timers" club) asked for a Firefly theme, which I was happy to deliver. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu8e_oYfpg_xuM2auR-JoU-XW1IOOCRHsNjshnaQ-6ww-I31fYORce8sRw_VR9VMaQ7OKEZfX87USpmCbIBh3mLW9D_ieQHUDHQO5V_mstBC5sn4mFSwp4kXSBgmNSMG-5_ucdQBEysxZt/s640/blogger-image-699117065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu8e_oYfpg_xuM2auR-JoU-XW1IOOCRHsNjshnaQ-6ww-I31fYORce8sRw_VR9VMaQ7OKEZfX87USpmCbIBh3mLW9D_ieQHUDHQO5V_mstBC5sn4mFSwp4kXSBgmNSMG-5_ucdQBEysxZt/s640/blogger-image-699117065.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>On the whole though, we just seemed to draw a ton of people who had made it a State Fair tradition, or who had relatives and/or friends that were caricatured and so they were inspired to get in on the action too. </div><div><br></div><div>I got to draw cute lesbians, Dads with their football-loving sons, and big Latino families (who tried sticking the baby in for free). Dallas has variety! </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFT2RoYMACuAUJPHt2i-PsF9OSRNcbBiHpuHf_6U7VJdXXwJ1Ob9319YtrlhK1FeuB2Z_4KBUIny131Hm6FqCzJN5m9vnxy2tGB0WpWIJTivZYmgjAYpK2NYZMK8Szi3YhnN6NDXfoyYY4/s640/blogger-image--1769672950.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFT2RoYMACuAUJPHt2i-PsF9OSRNcbBiHpuHf_6U7VJdXXwJ1Ob9319YtrlhK1FeuB2Z_4KBUIny131Hm6FqCzJN5m9vnxy2tGB0WpWIJTivZYmgjAYpK2NYZMK8Szi3YhnN6NDXfoyYY4/s640/blogger-image--1769672950.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I also drew folks with sombreros, folks with mohawks or flowery headbands, and a fellow complaining about all the wine his wife and her BFF had just bought. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9woeLoICrUnboYKd0p7JW96j72HV9vRKw3f4iwfi3bsmdUtKDDgD6dOfyTUiZ7ZB0U69SOmPCGsAN_RWbbHkuOaHQr8SREV5d5onlmABQolBTgqA2a9YbYlUOxP4GU0lTo8E5RH7LqqDv/s640/blogger-image-915231683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9woeLoICrUnboYKd0p7JW96j72HV9vRKw3f4iwfi3bsmdUtKDDgD6dOfyTUiZ7ZB0U69SOmPCGsAN_RWbbHkuOaHQr8SREV5d5onlmABQolBTgqA2a9YbYlUOxP4GU0lTo8E5RH7LqqDv/s640/blogger-image-915231683.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>And the BABIES... Holy hell, the babies were everywhere. I tried paying closer attention, but gosh it's tricky--they all have such similarities it feels like you're drawing them all the same! Still, there were all colors and varieties, including two adorable infants that projectile vomited in our booth as they sat. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DUoIJZTfI6PZzF6FVI-dgqIAigUBXaVejY-28Ad6C4C37f9DiJCYl-etMVSozaVjSt2N4cjJu423NscV7pFch1xQoDSVHNOmubz6vhgN2m30dOSUd9jTLAixcbvEdfICicCTX57G1tzf/s640/blogger-image--1509228627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9DUoIJZTfI6PZzF6FVI-dgqIAigUBXaVejY-28Ad6C4C37f9DiJCYl-etMVSozaVjSt2N4cjJu423NscV7pFch1xQoDSVHNOmubz6vhgN2m30dOSUd9jTLAixcbvEdfICicCTX57G1tzf/s640/blogger-image--1509228627.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div></div><div>All in all, from the numbers Emily crunched, we each drew nearly a thousand faces over the course of the fair. And it was really unusually lucky for me: out of that thousand-or-so drawings, I didn't get a single reject or mess up a paint job and have to restart due to damage! That's not typical, believe me. </div><div><br></div><div>At 24 days, the State Fair of Texas is the longest one there is. It breaks people. There are days you push yourself beyond what volume you thought you could handle. I had a moment this year, after 12+ hours pretty much nonstop, where I lost my bearings and, for a fleeting second, I had no idea what I was looking at on the paper. Was that line I just drew the upper lip? Or an eyebrow? Where was I? What am I doing???! Then my face-blindness cleared and I plodded on. But mental fatigue is real, and it's your constant enemy at a fair. Plus there's physical fatigue, just as annoying.</div><div><br></div><div>Rob, my other half, came out this year to replace one of the artists who (after 15 years of mental and physical fatigue) needed to skip Texas. He did great! People really dug his extra-spicy stretches, and he posted some awesome shots of his chairwork. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-QzPAOO4qabueUIzWaaJ4OpFIiq-RM606mdRwoDmiTs_Qve_zUgBCqDFOPTC5yBysTqGCjfI4foEfWWRldY6kxNC2jeLFEe2eianNGtbVwmBj_eF-KbAm0ohyhB6Hv5mepWu0TcTVebe1/s640/blogger-image-1307144165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-QzPAOO4qabueUIzWaaJ4OpFIiq-RM606mdRwoDmiTs_Qve_zUgBCqDFOPTC5yBysTqGCjfI4foEfWWRldY6kxNC2jeLFEe2eianNGtbVwmBj_eF-KbAm0ohyhB6Hv5mepWu0TcTVebe1/s640/blogger-image-1307144165.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>His stamina was quite impressive considering he's not a regular on the fair circuit--but by the last week he was hurting. I mean literally, his tendons were giving out. On all our advice, he tried switching to markers. They require less pressure and so put less strain on your muscles. He kinda HATED those chunky-nibbed crayolas I have come to love, though. I started doing caricatures with marker some twenty years ago, whereas Rob has always been a graphite guy. Ink requires you to glide the marker around the paper like an elegant little ice skater, so you get a nice line quality and variation. To get decent line quality with graphite, you chug and push and scratch like you're ploughing a field. Rob's more a plougher than a skater, I guess. He didn't post any drawings from the one day he tried markers, ha ha!</div><div><br></div><div>One other nice thing about having my hubby with me in Texas was that (for the first time since 2008), I got to spend my anniversary with my spouse! And it was a biggie! </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0UKpmKGLNCKIIDRERvxEgJ_Ye7Xj3QVcCMf0RSgFYY0cEAYPN44hI2eqle5YD0nFbbg0vjsgg1HqKaZ-z2w25AvjZWktADcUXh5b-AIXKcBwwzwwndwDZPsubQkU79UsHIOBFf18fUrj/s640/blogger-image-1947813840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0UKpmKGLNCKIIDRERvxEgJ_Ye7Xj3QVcCMf0RSgFYY0cEAYPN44hI2eqle5YD0nFbbg0vjsgg1HqKaZ-z2w25AvjZWktADcUXh5b-AIXKcBwwzwwndwDZPsubQkU79UsHIOBFf18fUrj/s640/blogger-image-1947813840.jpg"></a></div><br></div></div><div>We were able to ride the rotating observation tower, take a cutesy anniversary photo, and have a romantic corny dog dinner (not all on the same day, but we worked it all in eventually). Ah, it's good to know I married a person who can handle carny life. </div><div><br></div><div>Speaking of love and marriage, we had not one but TWO marriage proposals at the booth! And they both ended up going to Vlad. The first one went beautifully, with the girl gasping in surprise as her beau dropped to one knee, and all her family and friends watched, taking photos, and she gushed YES! and hugged him and he put the ring on her finger. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHJG5NF7pC5genDBtlQbFnLYT4hikF0LKdoSfKsNGPW4h5zvVdQg_kiv26MLsGXCpCZLtErYh9qBGKbUiK1sVCOw_gKSavoG8QlFYctLxFbmGtpB_OWJuWZbIdoWRUzjjv9MqCCuOR7T2/s640/blogger-image--1810948655.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsHJG5NF7pC5genDBtlQbFnLYT4hikF0LKdoSfKsNGPW4h5zvVdQg_kiv26MLsGXCpCZLtErYh9qBGKbUiK1sVCOw_gKSavoG8QlFYctLxFbmGtpB_OWJuWZbIdoWRUzjjv9MqCCuOR7T2/s640/blogger-image--1810948655.jpg"></a></div>Even Vlad said "Awwwwwwwwww." </div><div><br></div><div>The second proposal didn't go so great. It was a much more crowded night, and instead of the intended's family and friends, it was a lot of strangers packed in and watching. Older couple this time, maybe forties. Vlad said he could tell just by looking that this lady was not going to appreciate the public display she was about to be a part of. By the time you're fortyish, personality traits almost get burned into the face (for better or worse). As George Bernard Shaw said, by fifty every man gets the face he deserves. </div><div><br></div><div>Sure enough, he turned the picture around, she smiled for a milisecond, then gasped (but not in a good way), blanched, and <i>ran off.</i> The crowd wanted to know what her answer was, but she hadn't said anything at all. Just a look of terror mixed with anger that she shot at her boyfriend, who didn't even have time to get the ring out. Poor guy. He went after her, then came back, paid for the picture and assured everyone she was just shy and embarrassed. It raised the awkward level around our booth a few notches for a while--but now I finally can say I witnessed a caricature proposal that DIDN'T go so well. At least the blame wasn't on Vlad's drawing, it was spectacular and soft and adorable (I was going to snap a photo after the reveal but never got a chance). </div><div><br></div><div>My coworker Emily Anthony (who normally works in the Philly area) got an unexpected surprise as well--her fiancé John showed up in disguise, revisiting an epic prank he pulled several years back. This time he showed up at the fair with facepaint, 44-DD pumpkin boobs under a flowy dress, and a headscarf that hid his other features. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4dJF6LnjHqrE5s-0hy7hsy7WVMe7wmMypT6Om9KJsqM5t0QRjvZify4QEbcwkRc5MmQx3bzCiQG6ymqeLY4VXdOymFYlqHWln11kOT80jut-I37EZPgFdVtwUE0Goehm-hpXdjkIIyyEs/s640/blogger-image--1310172879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4dJF6LnjHqrE5s-0hy7hsy7WVMe7wmMypT6Om9KJsqM5t0QRjvZify4QEbcwkRc5MmQx3bzCiQG6ymqeLY4VXdOymFYlqHWln11kOT80jut-I37EZPgFdVtwUE0Goehm-hpXdjkIIyyEs/s640/blogger-image--1310172879.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>We all gave "her" the brush off, saying we were all done for the night (we were), but "she" kept being creepy and annoying until it dawned on Emily who exactly was behind the facepaint and disguise. </div><div><br></div><div>There were a few REAL douchebags that didn't turn out to be our friends in disguise. There always are at a big fair. There was the guy who got huffy with me because he asked how much for three and I told him the price was per person; he angrily pointed out that the sign didn't say anything about how much THREE people would be. Then there was the lady who found out there was a line and she couldn't just waltz in from the side and get her kid drawn instantly. When I motioned to the dozen or so people lined up, she snarled "So basically ALL THOSE people get to CUT IN FRONNA ME?!" and walked off with a head wag of attitude. Yeah lady, all those people are cutting in front of YOU, that's what's happening. Sure. And then there was the drunken group of football fans who sat their Pakistani friend down for a picture and kept wanting me to draw a turban "or something terrorist" on the drawing. I asked "<i>Do you</i> want a turban? This is your caricature." He said no, absolutely not. Then one nitwit girl in his group demanded I draw a plane crashing into the twin towers behind him, because that would be <i>hilarious</i> and she promised she'd tip me. I had a tip for the Pakistani guy: get better friends, dude. </div><div><br></div><div>And there were a few moments where we got to run off and actually SEE things. I fed a cow. Emily and I got our annual Big Tex photo, and the creative arts building had numerous cooking and baking contests that we smelled whenever we headed in for a bathroom break. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijTa77VgzQYe8I9tEcKXpC4yN0gVV1Qr5hSRguo1Aoixs7tOycmvWjpGMlVyGHMo1DZ4g9NDZsEz42JsS52GDMDZVexvM0b4aJ96evTHcLu67gv9HEKmrNmSKvTXzYFRw2Yxxy3aQmaeZE/s640/blogger-image--140108661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijTa77VgzQYe8I9tEcKXpC4yN0gVV1Qr5hSRguo1Aoixs7tOycmvWjpGMlVyGHMo1DZ4g9NDZsEz42JsS52GDMDZVexvM0b4aJ96evTHcLu67gv9HEKmrNmSKvTXzYFRw2Yxxy3aQmaeZE/s640/blogger-image--140108661.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>As part of the oddities we see each year, there is also a pun-based "glue a shoe" contest that is on display inside. This year's winners included Vladimir Bootin, Mount Rushoemore, a Ferris Heel, a shoeing machinr, and Aladdin singing "I can shoe you the world."</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZXGjXzmb8U9FqFaBbZMAlf4XKG-CyOAt0j78ZP80gBkoifuhB5u33cFc7tya-hggj-jx_mOS0MPPGhpfjeeg4tjydVO0KaxWFvyPkT87brRW1c0jslWLEl0mF2Rb48474NhtTZis4T5N/s640/blogger-image--1641426418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeZXGjXzmb8U9FqFaBbZMAlf4XKG-CyOAt0j78ZP80gBkoifuhB5u33cFc7tya-hggj-jx_mOS0MPPGhpfjeeg4tjydVO0KaxWFvyPkT87brRW1c0jslWLEl0mF2Rb48474NhtTZis4T5N/s640/blogger-image--1641426418.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>But amid all the glued shoes, the babies, the crushing crowds, the general douchebaggery, and the awesome regulars and fans of funny faces, I also got to say hello and spend a little time with the Dallas ISCA folk. Chris Galvin, Miguel Aguilar, Art Nations, and the fantabulous Lorin Bernsen all came by to say hello--we even got a glimpse of Martha Watson one day! Lorin was kind enough to work a couple shifts at our spot, and it's ALWAYS nice to look over the shoulder of a different artist, especially one as skilled as Lorin. </div><div><br></div><div>Hope to see you all next year, too! But this time with no Ebola, please. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-17623569123277004812014-09-30T22:12:00.001-07:002014-09-30T22:22:52.686-07:00Deep in the Heart of Texas!Well, that time has rolled around again! I'm with our little crew of miscreants (which includes my husband Rob this year, yeeehaw!) at the State Fair of Texas. The largest state fair in the world! Because that's how they roll in Texas. <div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZdXstlyXFp1m21N5skvj9UWcmm4sRJ3IlAoWK2Fbej9Gcs56vQlLN0vtL1hO4i5Qt0q4OOdVP5wOcQidjc0pYZqLdfbkPTO-bgrPzmsX9uq3y_GZVQH23EjmPddzCr7wIB5vUNG49nbQ/s640/blogger-image--126144877.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZdXstlyXFp1m21N5skvj9UWcmm4sRJ3IlAoWK2Fbej9Gcs56vQlLN0vtL1hO4i5Qt0q4OOdVP5wOcQidjc0pYZqLdfbkPTO-bgrPzmsX9uq3y_GZVQH23EjmPddzCr7wIB5vUNG49nbQ/s640/blogger-image--126144877.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Oh shit. Oh shitty mcFucking shit. BREAKING NEWS has just wiped away all other little silly tidbits I was going to share with you, gentle readers. </div><div><br></div><div>Of all the things I worried about that could put a damper on a State Fair, this wasn't even close to being on my radar. </div><div><br></div><div>Fucking ebola. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCAnC68CFr95oUttfrw3yM_COjY7QJRVHJCSFSkDyEytEILpRy246meMxyjTn9FCPHJnrJffkSR-i_pY7x7olWhxIccbtdHuNpt_C6NNQmw07HxQZNjFYRTRwTm5Apg3sMGXlJml708Ol9/s640/blogger-image-1597716158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCAnC68CFr95oUttfrw3yM_COjY7QJRVHJCSFSkDyEytEILpRy246meMxyjTn9FCPHJnrJffkSR-i_pY7x7olWhxIccbtdHuNpt_C6NNQmw07HxQZNjFYRTRwTm5Apg3sMGXlJml708Ol9/s640/blogger-image-1597716158.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>The first diagnosed case in the US and it's here. We got back to the camper tonight and watched the news, finding out (with increasing uneasiness) that ebola had been confirmed IN TEXAS. Then as the story unfolded, the newscaster mentioned it was North Texas... Then... DALLAS. Oh crap. </div><div><br></div><div>Now, understand that my unease here actually has nothing to do with my fear of catching this virus. I have read enough to know that as long as I don't go exchanging bodily fluids with infected folks, I'll moooost likely be fine. Rather, my worry (and the worry of my campermates) is for our bottom line. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0zalrlA34TV6BOQHmMw6p6ZTQb-SJuf-XouwOPUhRgpbFd3x4WjNUQH1c5LSMP5cxccs1k0N6Vrjgpo2dAliFXFnA5UZVOtbULrWuNa13BpG8mwieIE0hMZE1Dj1dwDxtVI801t5oEHQ/s640/blogger-image-248374082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD0zalrlA34TV6BOQHmMw6p6ZTQb-SJuf-XouwOPUhRgpbFd3x4WjNUQH1c5LSMP5cxccs1k0N6Vrjgpo2dAliFXFnA5UZVOtbULrWuNa13BpG8mwieIE0hMZE1Dj1dwDxtVI801t5oEHQ/s640/blogger-image-248374082.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>At the risk of stereotyping an entire state, um... Texas has not been known for the level-headedness or scientific acumen of its general populace. (Curse you, shitty school boards and alternative science textbooks!) Pretty much all of America is wrapped up in ebola hysterics right now--and now Dallas is the flashpoint. We sat in our little camper, eating candy by the handful and watching as the news went on and on and on and on about the disease. It was literally the entire half-hour of news tonight. (Er, yesterday night--as I write this, we are nearing midnight and it will be Wednesday.)</div><div><br></div><div>Rain on a Saturday is a bummer. Rain over an entire weekend really sucks. But this? This is unprecedanted. Who knows what it will do to fair attendance? My coworker Vlad said his numbers were down by 30% the year thay swine flu was dominating the news. </div><div><br></div><div>I'll bet the Fair management is really wringing hands right now. Maybe they will be showing up on local news or blasting commercials to assure people it's safe to come out to the fairgrounds. </div><div><br></div><div>Me? I think I'll go to sleep and wake up tomorrow then see what happens. Sigh. At least we had a really stellar opening weekend. And if the rest of the fair is less than fair--well, that gives me more time to write haikus. </div><div><br></div><div>Caricature haiku #5</div><div><br></div><div>Supressing your smile</div><div>makes you look like a muppet</div><div>with a fist inside.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div>CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-3564880201539978952014-09-04T14:22:00.002-07:002014-09-04T14:39:01.664-07:00Caricaturing for Uncle Sam<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That time between starting a drawing job and "the big reveal" can seem excruciatingly long--and with most live drawings it's only a matter of minutes. In this case, it's six years. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It all started in early 2008, when I got an email from a potential client who wanted to know if I could work from photos. Well, yeah, of course. He further explained that he would like to commission a few dozen black and white caricatures, suitable for reproduction, for a project. Well, that set off my reproduction rights radar and I asked about what sort of project, how many copies, etc. etc. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Some clients get vague when I ask details like this--they are either trying to get a bargain basement price, or they really don't have much of an idea themselves. This fellow, to my surprise, bypassed vague and simply answered in the negative. No, he could not tell me anything about the project. And I would not be at liberty to publicize it. He said he worked with the government and then he asked if I would be all right working from very bad photos, some of them of corpses. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Well, this was turning into an interesting little email exchange. I learned that the people I would be drawing were warlords in Afghanistan. Maybe "warlords" isn't the right word. "Power players" might be more apt, definitely more politically correct. My initial (overblown) fears that this job might get a Fatwa put out on me were assuaged as he explained that the drawings would not be anything that would ever endanger my life in any way. This was, remember, around the time that <a href="http://www.spiegel.de/international/europe/after-attack-on-danish-cartoonist-the-west-is-choked-by-fear-a-669888.html">Danish cartoonist</a> was in fear for his life after drawing a controversial image of Mohammed. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We struck a deal, and he began sending me photos of the subjects--often along with color commentary about their personalities, the regional clothing or hats they were wearing, and whether I should emphasize the mean look in their eye or instead focus on the playful expression they had in another photo. And yes, a couple of them were really awful, fuzzy photos and a few were post-mortem. I did my best. My contact was very supportive, telling me when I was going in the right direction and, overall, he was happy with the results. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Then, much more recently, he emailed to tell me that the work he had done in Afghanistan was amping down as the situation there got less tense, and so he was able to talk openly about what the caricatures were used for. And, likewise, I am now allowed to post a few on this blog. He also kindly answered a few questions, which I am publishing below . . . </span><br />
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<span style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>1. Can you describe what the caricatures were used for?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Certainly! The caricatures that I engaged you to do were personalities that were already controversial public figures. Their affiliations were well socialized in the media. The caricatures you provided were chosen and designed to aid in illuminating the Afghanistan problem for folks tasked with bringing stability to the region. Specifically, the caricatures continue to serve a three-fold purpose. Firstly, they have been used to develop a baseline knowledge of the major power-brokers in the Afghanistan region. Secondly, they have been incorporated into a board game as a training tool (not commercially marketed at this time) that incorporated aspects of intent and agendas of these figures. Lastly, they will serve as a legacy to those who dedicated much time and energy into Afghanistan and especially those whose sacrifice was great.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>When 911 enveloped our nation and the world in a dark and angry fervor, our best military minds and the brightest in the Intelligence Community were stymied by the concept of the War on Terror that was about to be waged. Thrust into a scenario that modern warfare had left behind by half a century in the remote country of Afghanistan, all the sophistication that the western civilized world could bring to bear proved to be an utter mismatch for the challenges that lay ahead.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>It quickly became apparent that planning to "win" in Afghanistan was a far more complex proposition than one could imagine. There was no overarching doctrine to embrace or exploit. The local rules of engagement were varied, archaic, and involved concepts beyond what most westerners could grasp.</i></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi37rNa8EOIueXfZKYzoQsgF50sCvXg_ASowHm_cVDd-ZOx5H6cW4NcYx6gOLFGowsNnEFxG9KK4etyLOOvVuyXkgbAtCwc8Cd3S1z_Qz6djHVEVwsobZdsek9LXd2FDt7sksv4hn6B0BBH/s1600/Afghan11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi37rNa8EOIueXfZKYzoQsgF50sCvXg_ASowHm_cVDd-ZOx5H6cW4NcYx6gOLFGowsNnEFxG9KK4etyLOOvVuyXkgbAtCwc8Cd3S1z_Qz6djHVEVwsobZdsek9LXd2FDt7sksv4hn6B0BBH/s1600/Afghan11.jpg" height="320" width="232" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>It became evident that--as with meeting with success in any conflict--that an eventual hearts and minds campaign would be essential. To do so, the world had to understand Afghan motivation and thinking. Only then could a lasting peace be created after two decades of constant war. To do so meant becoming knowledgeable on tribal dynamics, local interpretations of Islam and fundamentals of Afghan politics, custom, and culture.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Kept for many years among limited numbers who have been working behind the scenes to make Afghanistan a better place, these caricatures which greatly aided as avenues to insight into the Gordian Knot that is Afghanistan can now be shared as part of this blog portfolio.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #500050; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>2. Why did you consider caricatures for this project?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"><i>Each of these power brokers in Southwest Asia--ally, enemy and in-between--had huge personalities. They were political as well as militant. Some went on to take positions in the current Afghan government. Some are still waging war or jockeying for power. <span style="line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">Some have since been killed in combat or assassinated.</span><span style="line-height: 22.719999313354492px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">Their personal histories were each audacious, outrageous, arguably larger than life. In the truest sense of political satire cartoons universal to publications around the world, each were prime to be immortalized in caricature!</span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"><i><span style="line-height: 22.719999313354492px;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"><i><span style="line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">As the Taliban leadership had chosen to side with Usama Bin Laden, the anti-Taliban forces of the Northern Alliance instantly became allies to the west. They were intimately familiar with Afghanistan's rugged terrain. They knew when horses were preferable to tanks, and when donkeys were preferable to horses. </span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"><i><span style="line-height: 22.719999313354492px;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"><i><span style="line-height: 22.719999313354492px;">But, each of these Northern Alliance leaders (soon to be re-dubbed warlords) had individual agendas. Each were power brokers in their own right. Each were accustomed to employing brutal means to an end. To keep these individuals from reverting to infighting, they had to be understood. </span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"><span style="line-height: 22.719999313354492px;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 19px;"><span style="line-height: 22.719999313354492px;"><b>3. Was there any worry (from you or others) that caricatured likenesses might be seen as offensive by the culture or individuals at hand?</b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>There is always concern when cross-cultural references are made--especially in cartoons. Knowing how sharable and popular caricatures tend to be, I did seek consultation. No one thought that any mayhem would ensue. I have been prepared to address any issues. Likewise, if your role as a caricature artist comes under fire, you can honestly say that I never told you the identities of the persons you were sketching at the time. Or since, you now know (years later) who they are/were, you are empowered to field any inquiries yourself. </i></span></div>
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<span style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Culturally speaking, only one caricature was remotely religious in nature. The purely fictitious Mullah Nasruddin serves as the foundation of much of Southwest Asian humor. No believable chance of crossing any redlines there. As far as the Northern Alliance personalities, outside of complaints based on vanity, risk is/was low. As for the adversarial opposition figures, of the many "western" acts that they would deem offensive, we assessed caricatures to be quite far down on the list.</i></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTy11N8dxCe9CY17smDjFD8wzul8PU2LPCiTr9BmxQ4VBQ1vvW27sEDEZRgNTA63qCgJNqx5gK3oZmVkshxF21pZQ7v3rkrmv8kJ2sYRbY-9znv69gb4v759HXzXxZUlnoLHWBwkSflSHa/s1600/Afghan12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTy11N8dxCe9CY17smDjFD8wzul8PU2LPCiTr9BmxQ4VBQ1vvW27sEDEZRgNTA63qCgJNqx5gK3oZmVkshxF21pZQ7v3rkrmv8kJ2sYRbY-9znv69gb4v759HXzXxZUlnoLHWBwkSflSHa/s1600/Afghan12.jpg" height="320" width="219" /></a></div>
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<span style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>4. How did the target audience respond to the game, and the images? Did caricatures work better than photographs for your purposes?</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span style="border-collapse: collapse;">Reaction</span>s have been unanimously positive. Many, if not most, have been gamers to some degree or another, so it was not a difficult sell. After all, the term "The Great Game" was coined in the 1800's by Authur Conolly, an intelligence officer in the British East India Company's Sixth Bengal Light Calvary and popularized in Rudyard Kipling's novel, </i>Kim<i> (1901) to describe the conflict between the British and Russian empires for supremacy of Central and South Asia. It was only natural to capture many of the same dynamics in the same region in an actual game depicted in recent times. Caricatures tend to add much more dimension to persons of interest than photos. Captured in a genre akin to political cartoons, caricatures tend to emphasize the interactive social aspects of these characters. My aim was to impart a better understanding of the nature of the power networks in Afghanistan, how influence works, and to provoke thought about how actions taken in Afghanistan would have secondary and tertiary effects on these networks and influence. With this in mind, caricatures were preferable.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I thank him for kindly taking the time to shed so much light on what the drawings were used for, and painting a picture of the challenges he and his colleagues faced in understanding and communicating such a complicated array of forces and intents. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhuupdt2_UykLz_Mp-52m_1oPbfyyugytOgz8BidkdS4Enj_GrEENokeQ5WlfxECCQIp3T4k6Wy-MuPK6BroLpaiyD_q431DVTj34HZfi1EAvsG20guRcjAtyueiSh_Feil61A83F4XaAU/s1600/afghans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhuupdt2_UykLz_Mp-52m_1oPbfyyugytOgz8BidkdS4Enj_GrEENokeQ5WlfxECCQIp3T4k6Wy-MuPK6BroLpaiyD_q431DVTj34HZfi1EAvsG20guRcjAtyueiSh_Feil61A83F4XaAU/s1600/afghans.jpg" height="246" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the inked originals, including "Mullah Nasruddin," a character who<br />
(along with his donkey) is the source of many jokes in the region. I also learned<br />
about different hats worn in Afghanistan, not just turbans but pakols and kufis.</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sometimes, at the booth, when I draw soldiers, I thank them for their service and jokingly say "Thank you for serving--because I would be terrible at it. What could I do, draw funny pictures and throw them at the enemy?" It always gets a chuckle. But it does also take my mind to this particular assignment, which is probably the only time I'll get to feel patriotic because of having drawn funny pictures. It's a good feeling. A danger in this business is feeling like none of your work matters, like it's all fluff, and you're not really contributing to humanity in any meaningful way (this is an overwhelming feeling when you've just worked a party full of toddlers or drawn a very drunk party girl who can barely remember how to open her purse to pay you). But this one, I'll hold onto this one for a good while. </span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">While I'm at it, I should also point out the tremendous work that the <a href="http://www.reuben.org/">National Cartoonists Society </a>does with the overseas troops year after year. I have gotten to read all about the USO trips Tom Richmond, Ed Steckley, and many others have taken in order to spread some good humor to the men and women serving abroad. The pen may not <i>actually</i> be mightier than the sword, but it can be put to good use! Have fun drawing, and remember, you never know how important your next project will be. </span><br />
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CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-28040414885536582422014-08-07T02:03:00.000-07:002014-08-12T14:01:37.016-07:00Star Trekkin!Every once in a while a gig comes along that makes me wish I could grab a time machine to go tell my 13-year-old self what was going to happen someday--because she would <i>fah-reak</i>. This past weekend was definitely one of those.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Black n' Blue Jay</i>, circa Spring 1991.</td></tr>
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Rewind to my childhood . . . Every day after middle school, I would throw my backpack on my bed, flip on channel five, and decompress from school to a classic <i>Star Trek</i> episode. I saw each and every episode multiple times and came to really love the characters and the message of the show. When the movies came out, I was still a kid--and Ricardo Montalbon scared the hell out of me by sticking those ear worms in Checkov's helmet in <i>Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan</i>. <i>Star Trek III</i> enthralled me, and<i> IV</i> made me laugh my guts out. When the <i>Next Generation</i> premiered, I was all aquiver. While working as the cartoonist for my university's humor magazine, I drew up a MAD-style parody about campus life featuring the cast of the then-still-running <i>Star Trek: The Next Generation. </i>It was not great. But what I lacked in skill I made up for with fangirl love and knowledge of the canon.<br />
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Despite my piles of memorabilia, my phaser squirt guns, my Spock clock, my <i>Star Trek</i> coffee mug collection, and the several <i>Trek</i> shirts in my closet, I had never actually attended a Star Trek convention. I had, however, hovered on the periphery several years in a row. Enough to get familiarized with fan culture and realize they aren't quite like the rest of humanity--and I mean that in a good way! <i>Trek</i> fans are typically science-minded optimists who see the great potential of the human race. They are kind, they are smart, they are accepting, and they are awesome. I knew some folks who worked at the <a href="http://themeparkinvestigator.com/in-memoriam-star-trek-the-experience-at-the-las-vegas-hilton/">Star Trek Experience</a> at the Hilton (open from 1998-2008), and they got my boss Doug and several <i>Trek</i>-loving coworkers to set up a temporary caricature booth near Quark's Bar during the week of the convention. Needless to say, the population of souvenir-hunting trekkies exploded during that week, and we did a brisk business. During the Experience's closing ceremonies, we were there too, shedding a few tears with the cast and crew and drowning our sorrows in Romulan ale. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMDL4czTXlsWY6KVReK-NbfIuKZyB7z8Q5PL84rCThVjbV4sXcqyFHeyqnq1ViKz7WfCKX6ti9-NuVSpFOeex79O1ZQYRyIV0POVbg2EdBXXorLb3UcfKcOmoZNyR-dIXMej8rJzUgHJbx/s1600/balloon-enterprise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMDL4czTXlsWY6KVReK-NbfIuKZyB7z8Q5PL84rCThVjbV4sXcqyFHeyqnq1ViKz7WfCKX6ti9-NuVSpFOeex79O1ZQYRyIV0POVbg2EdBXXorLb3UcfKcOmoZNyR-dIXMej8rJzUgHJbx/s1600/balloon-enterprise.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roger supervising the maiden voyage of his balloon<br />
starship <i>Enterprise</i>.</td></tr>
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So when I got a query a few months ago from a representative of the company that puts on the huge international <i>Star Trek</i> Convention (now at the Rio Hotel & Casino), I had to pinch myself. We chatted and I was booked, making me pinch myself several more times. The rep also mentioned he wanted a balloon twister and henna artist and asked if I knew anyone I could recommend. And while I work with some great agencies and I do have a little stack of cards from fellow party performers, two individuals jumped to mind immediately. The convention organizers wanted people who were fans, so that they could better interact with the fans there. And above anything else, my goal is to fit the performer to the client's needs. And boy did I choose correctly. My pal <a href="http://www.seraphinafire.com/">Danya Cornelius,</a> who has been doing henna for years in the local fire performer and bellydance community, was actually watching <i>Star Trek</i> when she got my text asking her about her availability. And Roger <a href="http://www.theballoonwizard.com/">"the Balloon Wizard"</a> not only had a Trek uniform on hand, he had them for original series and Next Gen!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKaSnWEGoYCifyaAJu_FBxtZoeUDL7gs8JUZY5qioqjGXU4FL1uIkOSBgC0hQYqzCViEtt1ooK-joNoPSi6rTj4b85ZxZ8PafHYRTPZQZc1EBQFbiAblXaC-aWmmbf7pkCRVUFsklGV16/s1600/Balloon-slavegirl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKaSnWEGoYCifyaAJu_FBxtZoeUDL7gs8JUZY5qioqjGXU4FL1uIkOSBgC0hQYqzCViEtt1ooK-joNoPSi6rTj4b85ZxZ8PafHYRTPZQZc1EBQFbiAblXaC-aWmmbf7pkCRVUFsklGV16/s1600/Balloon-slavegirl.jpg" height="200" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dun dun DUN DUN DUN<br />
DUN DUN dun dun DUN DUN,<br />
dun-DUN dun-DUN dun-DUN . . .</td></tr>
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During the con, Roger wowed the crowd with some giant balloon <i>Enterprise</i> sculptures, complete with whirring lights in the nacelles and hull (which became quite the popular photo op), as well as smaller renditions of vulcan ears, starship hats, and adorable little Orion slave girls. Meanwhile, Danya and her helper Heidi squirted out henna insignias for command, science, and and engineering officers, which she got down to mere seconds of application time. The Klingon symbol and Mirror-Mirror universe symbol were also popular, and she came up with dozens of customized fusion designs that patrons absolutely loved. The henna girls became a photo op all to themselves, as Danya used this opportunity to buy a (totally tax-write-offable) custom Uhura red uniform, and Heidi wore her blue uniform, and they both put in amazing tribal hair extensions that made them quite a stellar pair of babes to behold!<br />
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For the first few days I went with basic black and rotated my collection of <i>Star Trek</i> ties (yeah yeah, I collect <i>Star Trek</i> ties AND <i>Star Trek</i> coffee mugs, don't judge me, I can stop WHENEVER I WANT). Anyway, I got plenty of compliments on the ties, and during our off-hours the henna ladies and I ran around the place and got a few photo ops here and there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikiaWv1B_9tSG7fCs84j5rwvXM8jn1bcY_AoUOc1-qb9COcCeE9ObvT_5iqjAxUuWgg82LjkpUeCEWkEWD6Av6W9t9lWPpWcALwlb6XcAtL7yuJLvGX5qQhWEHbG3hpT4W5L_V0DtYK3O/s1600/Girlpower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhikiaWv1B_9tSG7fCs84j5rwvXM8jn1bcY_AoUOc1-qb9COcCeE9ObvT_5iqjAxUuWgg82LjkpUeCEWkEWD6Av6W9t9lWPpWcALwlb6XcAtL7yuJLvGX5qQhWEHbG3hpT4W5L_V0DtYK3O/s1600/Girlpower.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Move over, Mudd's women!</td></tr>
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Meanwhile, a parade of costumes went by us all day, every day, culminating in Saturday's costume contest. Many were expertly sewn, custom copies of those seen on some episode or movie. Some were quirky takes on a theme or a character mash-up. A few were hilarious, a few were sexy. All of them showed dedication and love and creativity. Some group costumes wandered by, like the "Spanish Inquisition" trekkies, which except for their communicator badges could have walked off a Monty Python set; or the "red shirt casualty zombies," which is kind of self-explanatory; or the superbly costumed Next Gen band of merry men from the Robin Hood holodeck episode, each of whom had an uncanny resemblance to their counterpart in the show. There was a "dude" trekkie who was a carbon copy of Jeff Bridges' character except his slouchy robe was of a <i>Star Trek</i> design. There was a Ferengi couple who went in <i>traditional</i> Ferengi attire--meaning the female was "nude," as Ferengi believe it is vulgar to allow women to wear clothing. And I cannot even count the number of <i>Star Trek</i> kilts and corsets fans walked around in.<br />
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There was a tie for first place; winners (pictured lower right in the collage above) included an intricate Borg couple and a clever dual puppetry costume representing the two alien personas of "The Corbomite Maneuver"--the frightening blue-green false dummy Balok uses to frighten the <i>Enterprise</i> crew and then, underneath it, the childlike true appearance of Balok (played in the original series by a very young Clint Howard), complete with a little cup of "tranya," his favorite beverage. The contest was judged by a panel of actual Trek costume designers and makeup artists, and rather than splitting the $1,000 best-in-show prize, the panel decided to award both winners the full amount.<br />
<br />
While I was off duty, I was also able to duck into some of the panels and celebrity talks. Kate Mulgrew waxed philosophically about life after Trek and received kudos for her emmy nomination on <i>Orange Is the New Black</i>, Simon Pegg delighted the crowd with his humble charm, and Harlon Ellison talked about not getting along with studio executives during his stint writing for the original series.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNymGL_SLmJ9V0dxzFj25Qq2IZrL5Pte8FmmJy0I4bkAxrczfXOkNuwxEQYVg1-2j1TmxZmdZBSNAlh8sK-U6gcMAsxovuKCIBZ8s5c-EX94G3AAuaZOT7yOAIU-q-RTNrBsWu8mp1i_s/s1600/bobak-n-me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeNymGL_SLmJ9V0dxzFj25Qq2IZrL5Pte8FmmJy0I4bkAxrczfXOkNuwxEQYVg1-2j1TmxZmdZBSNAlh8sK-U6gcMAsxovuKCIBZ8s5c-EX94G3AAuaZOT7yOAIU-q-RTNrBsWu8mp1i_s/s1600/bobak-n-me.jpg" height="320" width="314" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite science officer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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And I caught sight of a familiar face--er, a familiar hairdo, anyway. A young engineer and flight team leader who became dubbed "The Mohawk Guy" after his appearances all over the internet in 2012 as NASA landed the Mars rover <i>Curiosity</i> was walking around the convention hall! Bobak Ferdowsi is a trekkie, it turns out, and he was participating in some of the science panels . . . yes, at this sci-fi convention, they have speakers that also talk about science <i>fact</i>! Bobak was delightful, and he even posed for a picture with me, but alas, I had to race out of his panel halfway through because it was time for me to set up. Right as they were getting to the asteroid-mining projects, dang it. But as a consolation, a couple of days later he showed up right by my drawing station and ended up getting filmed by a TV crew with me in the background! It took a lot of willpower for me to focus on my drawing during that time. I have yet to see the footage, but if anyone comes across it please send me a link! Aging celebrity extras from the original series are exciting--but NASA guys who land giant robots on Mars impress me more. Swoooon . . .<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMPeexHGrqGIzfAdoI8rEYR1nE5A1ri44ZkAmBUPthJMi6RdZ38lSWfuQV9o0wGE4b7eSugwII_fCEqv0_l7qhbct_PHyquuGdu3Kujn5VMKRoX_OS_fWSw5OLXRlQMEVADixVtFriM3b/s1600/concert-n-rach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMPeexHGrqGIzfAdoI8rEYR1nE5A1ri44ZkAmBUPthJMi6RdZ38lSWfuQV9o0wGE4b7eSugwII_fCEqv0_l7qhbct_PHyquuGdu3Kujn5VMKRoX_OS_fWSw5OLXRlQMEVADixVtFriM3b/s1600/concert-n-rach.jpg" height="196" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The orchestra got a well-deserved standing ovation, and Rachel and I got to<br />
bask in all the trekkieness!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Saturday night I hung around extra late to catch the Las Vegas Pops 45-piece orchestra play a variety of songs from the TV shows and movies. Hearing the scores played live, in that setting, was really a unique experience. Talk about classing up the joint. The concert opened and closed with music from the new J. J. Abrams movies, and those pieces really are powerful. Not only were we treated to a fantastic concert of really moving orchestral music, along with the conductor's commentary about how intricate and innovative some of the original music was when it debuted in the 1960s, but I also got to hear the world premiere of an original piece composed and guest-conducted by Ron Jones (who composed the music for <i>ST:TNG</i> as well as about a zillion other TV shows). Then I got to hang out with my old high-school pal Rachel Julian, who was lead percussionist for that concert! Vegas is a small world--and arts in Vegas is an even smaller world. She was tickled to play this event because her specialty is the marimba, so she got to whack out those signature tones that start every episode of the original series. The whole orchestra only had 3 hours to rehearse all the material, and they knocked it out of the park--true professionals.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGEg0Qzb87nsLfzHF5ZKlfrdk1d5h8EVSNPws1hel3UtThezbeBdw-x3tbPLUsA_aMChr1zepD7DUCHp2xlkSAcVXxMoURtj75fJQk2EH-4fNOY1zudixyxEy9pWBIb_IApmAHFtQK4lT/s1600/trek-collage-done.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcGEg0Qzb87nsLfzHF5ZKlfrdk1d5h8EVSNPws1hel3UtThezbeBdw-x3tbPLUsA_aMChr1zepD7DUCHp2xlkSAcVXxMoURtj75fJQk2EH-4fNOY1zudixyxEy9pWBIb_IApmAHFtQK4lT/s1600/trek-collage-done.jpg" height="295" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I pre-drew eight uniformed poses that trekkies could choose from: the<br />
client specified that they wanted male and female bodies for each of the<br />
major subsets: <i>TOS</i>, <i>Next Gen</i>, and the newer reboots.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
With all this going on, you'd think I didn't draw a darn thing while I was there. Not true. I set up my monitor and printers and offered fans free digital caricatures as part of the "gauntlet of cool free stuff" along the main hall. And people really dug 'em. Maybe a little too much. I was BUSY. And, just from the exhilaration of the environment, and cool people, I managed to haul butt and draw well over a hundred and twenty faces over my four-day mission. And I didn't take a single bathroom break!<br />
<br />
I also jumped directly into the fray and wore MY Star Trek costume on the last day. A seamstress friend had sewn me a neat retro-looking <i>Trek</i> skirt that I later embellished with a felt Enterprise and string of sequins to make it into a trekked-out version of a poodle skirt. Paired with some saddle shoes and a matching shirt, it made for a neat little outfit that fetched many compliments.<br />
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Now, as I said, trekkies are not like the rest of humanity. As an example, let me just tell you that <i>NOT ONCE</i> did anyone come up to me and say "aw, can't you do just <i>one more</i>" after the line was cut off. Not a single person. Over four days, not one! Rather, they politely asked what time I would start the next day, or told me they loved the work and hoped I'd be there next year too. Nor did a single person complain about how long they had waited. Not one. And these folks were waiting sometimes two hours or longer! Sci-fi conventioneers respect the rules, they know how to create an orderly line, they wait patiently once they commit to waiting, they police themselves well, and they do it cheerfully. <i>They</i> <i>all get along</i>. It's amazing to behold. Conversations and friendships were struck up between strangers as they waited behind me for their turn.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzievmcjvtuHW1nH8vTr-RHUV5qUxgzeKmQ_nKMNvcDk0qg32n2xyLqDqjzegPnuF1KaGGKk_XQSqvoMh8I8TCAhqi8-I-EkrZarYi-GOrIDJIdu1FB2ABxdv1dkI9NAGHzhnsBjfrI0W/s1600/my-line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzievmcjvtuHW1nH8vTr-RHUV5qUxgzeKmQ_nKMNvcDk0qg32n2xyLqDqjzegPnuF1KaGGKk_XQSqvoMh8I8TCAhqi8-I-EkrZarYi-GOrIDJIdu1FB2ABxdv1dkI9NAGHzhnsBjfrI0W/s1600/my-line.jpg" height="239" title="" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the line I saw, for caricatures, as I walked in about <br />
forty-five minutes before my start time on Sunday. Holy cow,<br />
I started worrying people mistakenly thought Nimoy would<br />
be drawing them or something.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So, feeling all this trekkerly love, I bent some serious rules and extended way more trust than I normally would give to a crowd of people. And my trust did pay off. For instance, I would NEVER ever ever hand out numbers and then tell people to just wander off if they wanted too. But I ended up doing that the last day. Cranking eight- to nine-minute color digital drawings meant I could maybe do thirty or so during my four-hour shift. On Sunday, I arrived to set up and found a line of 28 people already awaiting me; some had gotten there an hour ahead of time <i>determined</i> to get drawn. So I wrote out numbers and explained to the crowd that they could wander <i>IF</i> they cleared it with line buddies so that I always had someone waiting to draw and some semblance of a line. Because, I warned them, if everyone left and then all showed back up during my last ten minutes, we would have chaos. So they'd need to cooperate.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This would not work with bankers, lawyers, wedding guests, high school kids, teachers, or most any other group. <i>It totally worked with trekkies</i>. No one wandered back late and played dumb. No one yanked on my shoulder to ask what number was next or what time they should return; they all self-managed and checked in with one another. There were ZERO line disputes, ZERO complaints about how long anyone had waited, and ZERO breakdowns in line progress. I had a steady stream of folks with numbers, and they happily--and sometimes smugly--told others that my line was closed. It was wonderful! I think they have spoiled me for all other crowds.<br />
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<br />
I rewarded their awesomeness by taking more time than I usually did with drawings. Which gave me mixed feelings. The eternal question for all live caricature artists--is it better to deliver a fast product or a fine-tuned product? They were very patient, and so I was leaning more toward detailed stuff in each drawing. But it's amazing how time adds up. If you take an extra minute on each drawing, and you've given out thirty numbers, BAM, you're working an extra half-hour for no pay. Which did happen to me, but for once I didn't sweat it at all. It was a very diverse crowd. I drew folks from several different countries, I drew kids, I drew seniors, and I drew quite a few disabled folks. If someone needed an extra couple of minutes, I did not mind at all. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMbeO4JEN6djbiBdtRfSHbdGTYQ-L30dLQ5xRcQVOt65-VwkG0W3qkSS2HRXQKo0heWXNm7WGkNCqY6RDM6Y8KDwiZq_iZ215N4M33n4qv1ddXNMTziPjIex1PfuZV2KKOUp35N9wlEO1_/s1600/klingon-girl-hi-five.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMbeO4JEN6djbiBdtRfSHbdGTYQ-L30dLQ5xRcQVOt65-VwkG0W3qkSS2HRXQKo0heWXNm7WGkNCqY6RDM6Y8KDwiZq_iZ215N4M33n4qv1ddXNMTziPjIex1PfuZV2KKOUp35N9wlEO1_/s1600/klingon-girl-hi-five.jpg" height="255" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ah, to be young and Klingon . . .</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div>
One guy did ask for a special favor, actually. And it threw me for a second. This gentleman walked over and said "Is there any way I could make an appointment? I have walked by several times and your work is amazing!" I explained that I had already closed the line, sorry, and he sighed and said he'd been too busy speaking on panels. Saywhatnow? He said, in the politest way possible "I'm the guy who wrote that tribble episode. And I hate to ask for a special favor because of that, but if there's any way you could work me in . . ." Now actors have recognizeable faces, but I had no idea what writers looked like. And "The Trouble with Tribbles" is THE fan favorite episode from the original series, it's quite famous, and this fellow looked a little young to have written it nearly fifty years ago. Was he lying to me? Lying would be so out of character for trekkies. I looked up at some of the trekkies nearby, a flash of confusion on my face, needing an answer from them. They were silently nodding their heads vigorously, eyes wide and mouths slightly open, and one of them whispered "Oh my god DO IT."<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoY-Q7dtE1vkAQYX6H4NUpUMY0OYTIs3rEtVCICVe5aSJtQjzYLHyOYY8Ab_yfPETybtbEtX0UCCdhhTHuT3FPP_oNLBLEAxvzg5ROJH7wI5GB1yxeAOBydYade2EcSGZOMa1Z8el5wbYL/s1600/tribble-writer-done.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoY-Q7dtE1vkAQYX6H4NUpUMY0OYTIs3rEtVCICVe5aSJtQjzYLHyOYY8Ab_yfPETybtbEtX0UCCdhhTHuT3FPP_oNLBLEAxvzg5ROJH7wI5GB1yxeAOBydYade2EcSGZOMa1Z8el5wbYL/s1600/tribble-writer-done.jpg" height="320" width="254" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thanks to photoshop, it looks like I was printing<br />
out 11 x 17 for writer David Gerrold . . . nope, just<br />
special effects folks!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yep, this guy was genuine. His name was David Gerrold, I later found out, and he had indeed been running from panel to panel and busy with press interviews and such. I told him to come back at 5. He did stop back right on time, with plenty of kind words for me--he said he "never gets these done" but was so impressed with my likenesses. I told him he was already in the chair, no need to butter me up! For the next nine or ten minutes I got to have a fascinating conversation about what it was like for him, writing in Hollywood at the age of 19 during the dawn of the hour-long teledrama. I also got to hear about his involvement in "Trials and Tribble-ations," the clever tribble-themed retro episode of <i>Deep Space Nine </i>. . . and he even let me in on some private trek gossip that I shall take to my grave! I have said before that one of my favorite things about this job is it gives us face time with some of the most interesting people in the world. Boy howdy, this qualified.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
So now I rest. Between the two enormous conventions I attended in the past two weeks, I am really bushwhackered. Oh yeah, last week I went to San Diego for that OTHER huge convention. I'll try to write about that next time. <br />
<br />
Until next week, keep on trekkin' everybody!</div>
CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-88690722564486304922014-07-23T13:38:00.000-07:002014-07-23T13:48:18.124-07:00How to Be a RookieThe retail operation where I sometimes grab shifts is now welcoming a handful of rookies onto the roster. As a result, I find myself proffering some hints and lessons here and there.<br />
<br />
Which takes me back to when I was a rookie (and believe me, I feel like I'm a rookie on a regular basis--this is not a job where you learn everything in the first week and then never pay attention again).<br />
<br />
Unlike other professions that take on apprentices formally, with guidelines, caricature operations really vary. Some folks have to adhere very specifically to a house style and medium, while at other places it's a free-for-all. But there's a certain set of unwritten rules in this business when it comes to learning the craft as a newbie. I decided to write them down.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>
1. Be Nice</b>.</h3>
I don't mean "draw nice." I mean BE nice. There always seems to be one or two folks a year who show up and think they already know it all. Invariably, they don't. Nor will they learn. Be nice to your fellow newbies, your new boss, and any other seasoned artists who are there. These folks will be key to your learning process over the next months or years, and they will also help you earn an income.<br />
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<div>
<h3>
<b>2. Be Humble</b>. </h3>
</div>
<div>
You aren't as good as you think you are. If the first sentence out of a potential new hire's mouth is something about how awesome and talented they are, I steel myself for what their work is going to look like. It's usually awful because they have invested more time in self-worship than self-improvement. Most everyone who <i>actually</i> gets good at this is constantly self-critical. In order to get better, you need to be able to tell where you went wrong, and the ability to see that much is a key ingredient in a caricature artist. If someone cannot see flaws in their own work, it's usually a sign they don't have that power of observation. The flip-side of this is that if you ARE overly self-critical, take a breath and realize that it doesn't necessarily mean you suck . . . it means you have the ability to <i>see</i> where you could use improvement. That's the ticket right there.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>3. Be Observant</b>.</h3>
Before you even officially hire on, you should show up and watch each established caricaturist work for at least an hour or two. This was the first assignment I ever had as a rookie with Quickdraw. Even if you show up to observe and there's no business, chances are the artist will show you a few tips and tricks and you can ask questions. For the first year, whenever the artist next to you is drawing you should be watching.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>4. Be Grateful</b>.</h3>
There's an attitude I have come across lately, online and in person, of "I deserve to be an artist--because REASONS!" The universe does not owe you an audience or a living. Someone I know (only peripherally) recently griped "I just want a fun, creative job in the arts that can pay my bills, is that too much to ask??" Well, in a word, yes! We are phenomenally lucky to live in today's age, where we non-royals don't have to spend dawn till dusk subsistence farming in order to live. So we have some leisure time. And that's getting spent consuming creative arts, so much so that people start thinking that's all there is to life. Then they believe that it's logical that they, too, should be gainfully employed making content. Not everyone can, not everyone should, but believe me it seems like EVERYONE IS TRYING. Quite frankly, our country might be better off if folks got this determined to be a really good vacuum repair person, or shoemaker, or botanist, or tailor--the "sciences and useful arts" as our Constitution puts it. The people lucky enough to make a living in a creative field, even one as varied and "carny" as caricature, are in it because of dedication, practice, and maybe a little insanity. That's what it takes to rise above the background hum of a few million aspiring doodlers. If you get a chance to be one of them, remember there are a million people who would trade places with you. Don't ever gripe about the fame and fortune you don't have. Draw the face in front of you and learn from it. And be glad you aren't subsistence farming.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>5. Be Open to Learning--from Everyone.</b></h3>
You will likely hire on to a crew with decent artists, great artists, and maybe a couple lousy ones too. The lousy ones will have their good days, and the great ones will have their bad days. You can learn from all of them. You might see someone put a few bad lines on a drawing and start thinking that you're better than one (or all) of them and they have nothing to teach you. This is the day you will stop learning, and it is the road to being a lousy artist.<br />
<br />
<h3>
<b>6. Be Trustworthy</b>.</h3>
Nothing gets a person fired quicker than stealing. And yet I have seen folks try it time and time again in this business. Skimming off the profits seems easy, or victimless, to some artists--but the victim will be you in the long run. Pocketing the entire payment for a color double might mean an extra $15 or $20 for your take-home pay, but remember what it will cost you in the long run. Once someone notices a thief, word gets around. Maybe they get fired immediately, maybe there's a grace period but eventually the thief is let go. That reputation follows a person, and this is a small community. Fellow artists won't keep thievery a secret--they have a vested interest in seeing the booth pay its rent. And reputations follow you. When you want to work at an operation across the country, that might be cut short with just a few words, like "Oh I remember that guy. He got let go for stealing."<br />
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<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
<h3>
<b>7. Be Resilient</b>. </h3>
</div>
<div>
No one is perfect at this. And no one gets great customer reactions 100% of the time. Be prepared for rejects, and deal with them in a mature way when they arise. Take a break, walk it off, and face the next customer with all the effort and optimism you can muster. If a jerky customer or hen-pecking grandma rattles you enough to ruin your entire day, this might not be the best job for you. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<h3>
<b>8. Be Brave</b>.</h3>
</div>
<div>
I have seen some artists get gun-shy and avoid working with one of the really seasoned crowd favorites because they feel inadequate, or a bit jealous. "I hate working with that guy! He's so fast and the crowd loves him, it makes me feel like chopped liver." Well guess what? You will always, always, always make more money per shift working next to an artist that is more dynamic and better than you. Because their work generates interest that will lead to more butts in YOUR chair too. You might not beat their total, but you will benefit. And sitting next to them is an ongoing learning opportunity. You only rise to the level of those you surround yourself with. Aim high, and don't let a fragile ego hold you back. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Good luck!<br />
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CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-82439542964071798962014-07-16T19:20:00.000-07:002014-07-17T00:36:20.607-07:00 The Fallacies that House Built<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuBnmY-fUEK4sLrjn37pvZM4UYTvquvhxxQYULQGIZx4BGJ6iinuBwosxWpb6yMA9VWnJTj2aPM-aE_LlDjubFozZXyyyg5O2WXNuN1S_sHQD-MIxs8vVPVzah8gDKNRpwdOr9GLAks6YC/s1600/house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuBnmY-fUEK4sLrjn37pvZM4UYTvquvhxxQYULQGIZx4BGJ6iinuBwosxWpb6yMA9VWnJTj2aPM-aE_LlDjubFozZXyyyg5O2WXNuN1S_sHQD-MIxs8vVPVzah8gDKNRpwdOr9GLAks6YC/s1600/house.jpg" height="400" width="281" /></a>First, a disclaimer: I am <i>not</i> a doctor and I am <i>not</i> giving medical advice. I'm more of a couch potato giving advice on how to watch TV.<br />
<br />
What the hell does being a doctor, or watching TV, have to do with a caricature blog, you ask? Well, Hugh Laurie has an awesome face. I played around with it and did a quick digital doodle of him, but I'm not quite satisfied yet. I'll be drawing him at least a few times more. Rich features and bone structure there. You can see his young face (and native accent) on <i>Laurie & Fry</i>, an old British comedy also available on Netflix instant, for any of you who want something Monty Python flavored but who have memorized all of <i>Flying Circus</i> already.<br />
<br />
<i>House</i> has long been on my list of things to check out. Dr. Gregory House is based on Sherlock Holmes, as Baker Street fans already know, which makes for some quirky dialogue and fun relationship friction . . . and every now and again a direct reference makes its way into the show. Doctor Wilson (who is the de facto Watson of the show) at one point talks about "hearing zebras instead of horses," and then in a later episode tells a group of doctors a lengthy lie about "Irene Adler," some woman whom he claimed House was infatuated with. And instead of a solution of cocaine, or the occasional bit of morphine that the original Holmes indulged in, Dr. House is hooked on vicodin and sometimes other, stronger pain-killers.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCpkyMHa-q8FujwXoiFQeXcsQXdskPw58JHyLvfkQY4lPqwGMXtUNaVnNNX7exIL2s9Gt_2Z-BLs3Q-lH4_sNUwYf5ts5sx7rP3xzobDTRaBhjOQAz07-H7VKrhJlgFUoQfJzM_WLp__LT/s1600/House-and-Sherlock-sherlock-holmes-6569249-1100-1346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCpkyMHa-q8FujwXoiFQeXcsQXdskPw58JHyLvfkQY4lPqwGMXtUNaVnNNX7exIL2s9Gt_2Z-BLs3Q-lH4_sNUwYf5ts5sx7rP3xzobDTRaBhjOQAz07-H7VKrhJlgFUoQfJzM_WLp__LT/s1600/House-and-Sherlock-sherlock-holmes-6569249-1100-1346.jpg" height="400" width="325" /></a></div>
<br />
Netflix has all the seasons available on the instant download, and I found them perfect for what I needed. See, I recently took on a huge pile of commission work and it drives me bananas to not have something in the background as I draw. Some find that distracting, and I would never recommend it if one is doing something verbal-based (for instance, I can't watch TV and write, I need silence for that). But for repetitive actions like filling in swaths of color? I love me some podcasts, talk shows, or interesting-but-not-too-enthralling TV shows. I cannot work during really impressive shows like <i>Game of Thrones </i>or <i>Walking Dead</i>, because every frame is gold. <i>House</i> though? It's pithy, but for the most part predictable. While <i>House</i> has been trumpeted as a "skeptic" character and launched a thousand memes with snarky quotes from the show, I'm not exactly watching it with eyes glued to the screen . . . and if I really want to see the explosive bloody diarrhea that just coated the guest star's hospital bed, I can just pause and rewind.<br />
<br />
I'm up to season 5 so far and have seen quite a bit of explosive bloody diarrhea.<br />
<br />
The show introduces one or two medical mysteries that are resolved by the end of the episode (think <i>Law & Order</i>, but with doctors), and so it's no surprise the scripts are formulaic. But there's a sort of comfort to formula 42-minute dramas . . .<i> Law & Order</i> has eight hundred spinoffs for a reason. Not to mention the cool guest stars that sometimes have popped up. I got to see Jeremy Renner as a punk rocker who coughs up tons of blood, Felicia Day as an organ recipient, and Dave Matthews as a brain-damaged savant. That last episode is worth checking out just to see Hugh and Dave jam on the piano together.<br />
<br />
But medically. Oh, ouch, medically. As I said above, I am not a doctor. But I am not a moron either. This show gives me flashbacks to college, when I tried watching <i>Chicago Hope</i> with my roommate, who was working at a hospital and attending dental school. Between laughing fits, she would say "Uh, no, <i>that</i> doesn't happen," quite frequently. When one episode showed the transplant-harvest lab monkeys being brought down to the cancer ward so that sick kids could play with them, she near about had an aneurysm.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju_KvZya_8-rVhNnEhnsXTNv1oLNsGMES2zaaROwTwuxtbUCjpFX3bfPwY0Xc6edrRIri7BuVxfTUPiYu8U7LSV8kuhDLpMySHITVVmB3_MW8pxaV5egO5q8yU7-urRqlYwm742-csXg_a/s1600/house-blood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju_KvZya_8-rVhNnEhnsXTNv1oLNsGMES2zaaROwTwuxtbUCjpFX3bfPwY0Xc6edrRIri7BuVxfTUPiYu8U7LSV8kuhDLpMySHITVVmB3_MW8pxaV5egO5q8yU7-urRqlYwm742-csXg_a/s1600/house-blood.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paging Dr. House . . . it's 34 minutes into the episode!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
House, indeed, has unrealistic medical things all over the place, and the very nature of the 42-minute-drama formula plays into the false medical information. The doctors (who should be used to seeing blood all the time, I mean, they're doctors) never seem to get <i>really</i> worried until that precise moment in the show, around minute 34, when a patient starts gushing blood from a particular orifice--or all of them. The writers use blood as a touchstone because of its visceral value to all human beings: most of us get panicked when we see it. So, like clockwork, the patient will become an Old Faithful of the red stuff whenever the story needs to signal viewers "okay, shit's getting real now!" Blood gushes from noses, or ears, or it gets vomited out, or comes out mouth, nose, and eyes simultaneously, or gets pooped all over the bed, or a catheter bag that should contain urine instead has--you guessed it--blood, and even once they had a doctor get wide-eyed and say "you're sweat . . . you're sweating blood!" as the camera zoomed in on little blood droplets and dramatic music crescendoed. The blood on this show has its own theme music, it's really one of the stars.<br />
<br />
And then by minute 38, Dr. House, or his team, in conjunction with some teeny tiny clue they found while illegally breaking into the patient's home (when was the last time your doctor cared so much that he or she broke into your home?), figure out the diagnosis. And usually they save the patient. Not always, but usually. Not only that, but the out-on-a-limb nutty diagnosis is usually the right one, and House often dismisses previous doctors, who had made perfectly sound diagnoses based on the presenting symptoms, with "They're idiots." I wondered how doctors felt about the show . . . but then I remembered the internet! People post opinions on the internet! Indeed, some doctors had actually compiled a <a href="http://www.politedissent.com/house_pd.html">list of medical quibbles</a>, dissecting every episode point-by-point. And you thought I was a skeptic busybody.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-52wmcJtXZMJRFiDw0s9zoRwlT5qrr2zM8jT_2FBe_a9qcLv3IN2PXb59_bBXNUzT-cTTU6fmBK5bnXha3mLe5n8ocJkS8rsurTCG0O0-2Brjl-VQHcc41uBEEUsdRUAOwG7JRN-SWFrq/s1600/randi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-52wmcJtXZMJRFiDw0s9zoRwlT5qrr2zM8jT_2FBe_a9qcLv3IN2PXb59_bBXNUzT-cTTU6fmBK5bnXha3mLe5n8ocJkS8rsurTCG0O0-2Brjl-VQHcc41uBEEUsdRUAOwG7JRN-SWFrq/s1600/randi.jpg" height="253" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Amazing Randi, who is a delight and generously gives<br />
of his time to skeptically pose with many attendees at TAM.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Speaking of skepticism, this past weekend I was able to attend <a href="http://www.amazingmeeting.com/">The Amazing Meeting</a>, a yearly get-together of skeptics, science educators, and activists who seek to spread rationality and combat bunk. And, oddly enough, <i>House</i> came up. This year's theme was the brain, and Dr. Steven Novella, a neurologist who runs my favorite weekly podcast, <i><a href="http://www.theskepticsguide.org/">The Skeptic's Guide to the Universe</a></i>, mentioned the show and how it has changed the assumptions of some patients who come to see him. Dr. Novella told the crowd about a patient that had presented with a laundry list of what are typically referred to as "non-specific symptoms." Fatigue, headaches, soreness, and so on. She had been to some other specialists but none had found anything wrong, so she was now getting an MRI. When he went over the results with her and said there was nothing abnormal in the MRI, she started crying. Not crying in relief, just crying, agonized that there was <i>nothing visibly wrong</i>.<br />
<br />
He said he's been seeing more and more of this type of reaction, and he has termed it the "Dr. House Effect." Patients have taken the House formula to heart: on that show, they run test after test, and the victorious moment comes when the really smart doctors finally make a successful diagnosis and treat the patient, who then gets better. If they cannot beat the clock and diagnose something, well then, that patient dies. No specific diagnosis = death. That's what this poor woman was internalizing; she thought that having a normal MRI was actually bad news. Dr. Novella had to reassure her that the "normal MRI club" was definitely where she wanted to be. Having a confirmed brain tumor or neurologic defect is way worse than having some symptoms that seem mysterious because they're unexplained. And, in actuality, not every set of non-specific symptoms gets diagnosed. Nor should we expect doctors to ever be able to do that. Human bodies are terribly complex, we aren't just walking sudoku puzzles that have a specific answer if you just connect all the right numbers. In cases like this patient's, Novella said, you just prescribe some lifestyle changes (exercise, better diet), see if you can mitigate the symptoms (try some headache drugs or muscle relaxers), and clinically keep an eye on things (see them for future appointments, see if anything gets worse).<br />
<br />
So bear this in mind the next time you get frustrated at doctors for not having a cut-and-dry explanation for exactly what might be your health issue. Many popular TV shows have contributed to reductionist thinking in America, and I think<i> House</i> is a good example of that. Watch enough of that type of medical drama and you start to expect that doctors are all either idiots or geniuses, and lack of diagnosis means you'll be dead by the end of the episode.<br />
<br />
But knowing all that, I'm still anxious to see the next episode. Drs. House and Cutty are coming dangerously close to a liaison, and, even if the hospital shennanigans <i>are</i> pumped with bunk, they are also fun to watch. Plus I have a few more angles I want to try with a Hugh Laurie drawing.<br />
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<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-37286965551545493292014-07-09T02:34:00.002-07:002014-07-09T02:53:40.481-07:00Tribbles and Klingons and Borg, OH MY!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTRTsuL9zKt5tfzAEC6F3nrmtQ7JbRIYDdM7Z8dKKIyX0K8DXMQ6xAM7uBB5zg5OT6_ZIbhPqSm85QWXXTrUikWdNIKriNsEMhvCIogj3K_SCpUAEF_Hq_wp4Qt5XncwyLoXqk234uFcSi/s1600/facialanomalies4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTRTsuL9zKt5tfzAEC6F3nrmtQ7JbRIYDdM7Z8dKKIyX0K8DXMQ6xAM7uBB5zg5OT6_ZIbhPqSm85QWXXTrUikWdNIKriNsEMhvCIogj3K_SCpUAEF_Hq_wp4Qt5XncwyLoXqk234uFcSi/s1600/facialanomalies4.jpg" height="200" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andorians make the best<br />
drinking buddies.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It may surprise you to find out I am a bit of a sci-fi geek. No, no, please hold back your astonishment. I realize I come off as sophisticated and mature, but believe it or not I squeeeeeeeee from time to time.<br />
<br />
Well, July is usually my "play around month," as for the past few years I've managed to attend both The Amazing Meeting in early July (not really sci-fi, but still geeky fun with brainy skeptics) and then the San Diego Comic Con in late July. This year it has not just rained, it has <i>poured</i> fun sci-fi stuff in July. In fact, this week, almost as a harbinger of the geek celebrations to come, I finished up a Star Wars themed digital commission.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCTLAIFVaznT_9XxueTI4RHf0YAeZQWrX4qD1LB4VXd1rlGg4A9aKJN38KyC8X3eY30WaVhpP9JTtADI6-UmPximTZ7JG9zG5_80PGX5sdnkAIKImrVyG12zuTbQe3RwUfXoiDEDLhPn7s/s1600/jedi-caricature-smallRGB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCTLAIFVaznT_9XxueTI4RHf0YAeZQWrX4qD1LB4VXd1rlGg4A9aKJN38KyC8X3eY30WaVhpP9JTtADI6-UmPximTZ7JG9zG5_80PGX5sdnkAIKImrVyG12zuTbQe3RwUfXoiDEDLhPn7s/s1600/jedi-caricature-smallRGB.jpg" height="320" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The recipient was a past client who wanted to gift it to a like-minded person who was leaving their company. The photo references were pretty awful, but I could tell the outfits, poses, and private "in" jokes were important enough to forgive a few lackluster likenesses on the background jedi. So these faces felt pretty generic, but the finished piece was a hit. I got a delighted email this morning from the client saying he had incorporated the caricature into a powerpoint presentation with Star Wars music and narration for the guy's going-away party, and it was met with rave reviews. It really is fun hearing that my work wasn't just presented to the person in a frame but also used in such a creative way for a wonderful, memorable celebration. Warms my heart.<br />
<br />
Now, to keep with the genre but switch canons, I have been a huge Star Trek fan my entire life. I watched the series daily as a kid and own far too many Trek-related apparel and gizmos. And yes, I am putting together a fun Trek-related costume for SDCC. Just you wait. It probably won't hold a candle to <a href="http://www.geek-retreat.com/looking-groups-lar-de-souza-cosplays-sailor-bacon-charity/unnamed-58/">Lar deSouza's epic Sailor Bacon costume</a>, but what could?<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU0gzzE5SOVex2rwc3d9iSgoFMdQu_p66KhSO2Jmxuhh7KKYKE3SjXKn_CZ0SdR1TBb8d9pPugM1GjC948nP3OmDLwQqYv3vTg_UCTPJ2rEGEpF1n2_ps2Ni3qIVsQAHEyAUVCDM2GAe6d/s1600/facialanomalies1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU0gzzE5SOVex2rwc3d9iSgoFMdQu_p66KhSO2Jmxuhh7KKYKE3SjXKn_CZ0SdR1TBb8d9pPugM1GjC948nP3OmDLwQqYv3vTg_UCTPJ2rEGEpF1n2_ps2Ni3qIVsQAHEyAUVCDM2GAe6d/s1600/facialanomalies1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I and fellow artists JW and Jay weren't excited at <i>ALL</i><br />
to work at the Star Trek experience. Nope, this was just a<br />
ho-hum day at the booth. Yawn. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anyway, Star Trek conventions are the grandaddy of fan get-togethers. They are the gold standard (uh--gold-pressed latinum standard?) in sci-fi geekdom, and to my shame I have never actually attended one . . . I have, however, orbited on the outskirts and plied my trade. Several years back, Doug was able to get his merry band of facemakers a temporary booth at Quark's Bar in the famous Star Trek Experience during the week of the convention. I met a few celebrities, including Robert Picardo, Garrett Wang, and Bobby Clark--the dude who played the Gorn. Yep, <i>I met the Gorn.</i> And I got to draw him. He described the experience as simply a day's work for a day's pay, in a rubber suit. He had handlers with him and was clearly enjoying the convention experience--so nice to see that a day in a rubber suit can lead to fame among a whole culture of people decades afterward!<br />
<br />
We had fun times drawing trekkers as green slave women, or with Borg implants (make up your own joke), Klingon forehead ridges, or with a particular class starship in the background. We named our short-lived enterprise "Facial Anomalies" (get it? enterprise? facial anomalies? Wokka wokka!) And we got to draw there for a couple years in a row, at least, before the fun all had to end.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIAwjWPR0V5ljBxmmM1xz_wNfFa0b6bhXrkfGnjDriu6WJIuLqbj3VkE1cTMSSWuhhg7wIbi6Ks4BE_gGEm0lhNXhihL94Gdx6zT00TLNSgl7aTUmfSmrT8iWMomQ5z85_Wt6fPD6sD9gg/s1600/facialanomalies2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIAwjWPR0V5ljBxmmM1xz_wNfFa0b6bhXrkfGnjDriu6WJIuLqbj3VkE1cTMSSWuhhg7wIbi6Ks4BE_gGEm0lhNXhihL94Gdx6zT00TLNSgl7aTUmfSmrT8iWMomQ5z85_Wt6fPD6sD9gg/s1600/facialanomalies2.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, I engaged in Ferengi foreplay in public. I do what I WANT!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Alas, the awesome <a href="http://themeparkinvestigator.com/in-memoriam-star-trek-the-experience-at-the-las-vegas-hilton/">Star Trek Experience closed up</a> after ten years serving fans (1998-2008), and now even the Las Vegas Hilton has been bought and rebranded. This year, the annual Star Trek convention will be on the other side of Las Vegas, at the Rio Hotel & Casino.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><i>And I'll be there, drawing!!!! SQUEEEEEEE!!!!!!</i></b> </div>
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<div>
I like fan conventions. I get the fan mentality. I'm a fan of quite a few shows and I have, over the years, tried to get into various conventions with the caricature angle. In college I thought I had a brilliant Mystery Science Theater 3000-inspired idea: I could draw folks on paper printed with that iconic silhouette of Tom Servo, Crow, and Joel/Mike. Alas, I sent some samples and a promo kit to MST3K, hoping to draw at the 1994 or 95 ConventioCon ExpoFest-a-Rama but never heard back. Similarly, I had inquired about working the Stargate conventions, which I happily attended as a fan in Vancouver three times. Looking back though, I was kind of glad not to be working it--I would have missed out hanging with my friends and going to all the awesome activities and meet & greets! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But aaaaah, <i>Star Trek</i>. It's the first sci-fi show I really became a huge fan of, and yet technically I remain a Star Trek convention virgin. Until July 31st, anyway! The company that puts on the Stargate cons and the Trek cons, <a href="http://www.creationent.com/">Creation Entertainment</a>, contacted me a few months back and asked about having caricature entertainment for the main hall this year. First I listened to the voicemail about three times and danced around my bedroom like a little girl making squeaky sounds and hyperventilating. Then, after composing myself, and rationalizing why it wasn't a dastardly deed to undercut everyone else in my market, just this one time, I called them back and quoted their rep an insanely low price--<i>and I told him why.</i> In 2008, when I unexpectedly had to cancel my plans to go to the Vancouver Stargate con due to a death in the family, I emailed Creation Entertainment seeing if any refund was possible. It CLEARLY states on the tickets that there are no refunds, so I figured it was a lost cause. But it was a large chunk o' change, and I figured I'd try. The company emailed condolances and immediately refunded both tickets I'd bought on my credit card. It was a gesture of good will that stuck with me, at a time when every kindness really helped. They could have kept my money, legally they had every right to. But they didn't. They were awesome. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCRv-6TeYhmoa_CYOR6D0N7hebuO_HcfaBLx68xYG-3U1P5cZsRpK0zRPjga9SIrRM7w2cVeuDcv3NnyI3bPFaaTplKpqaHq3bD3CGYR_Eeb4kNZ6eaJqFXFYPHsAPZSJsuGqNcujrNxIb/s1600/facialanomalies3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCRv-6TeYhmoa_CYOR6D0N7hebuO_HcfaBLx68xYG-3U1P5cZsRpK0zRPjga9SIrRM7w2cVeuDcv3NnyI3bPFaaTplKpqaHq3bD3CGYR_Eeb4kNZ6eaJqFXFYPHsAPZSJsuGqNcujrNxIb/s1600/facialanomalies3.jpg" height="320" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? Trekkies and wookies CAN get along.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sci-fi people are good people, in my experience. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And, so fast-forward six years to the present . . . Yeah, I booked that gig at a steep discount. Because personally doling out good karma feels GREAT, not to mention the perks! I'll be getting to draw in the main hall and hopefully rub elbows with Trek luminaries while getting a glimpse of all the fans dressed up. I might even get a chance to collect some autographs and add to my bat'leth collection. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If you're going, let me know! I'll squeeeeeeeee you there! </div>
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<br /></div>
CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-4831685343617058642014-07-01T23:51:00.000-07:002014-07-02T00:50:48.896-07:00Caricature marathon gigs, I love and hate them...Just finished a type of gig that's kind of unique to Vegas. Or at least more prevalent here than elsewhere. This is the land of giant, round-the-clock casino resorts, which employ literally thousands of workers split over three shifts.<br>
<br>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtyveNYjSo4d8IowUnuaBM-OClpmFsZyyk9gDGFAwJybR1qE3y60bRLsuTYm8pJvgVDTr_-DPXmCsh9NjjFNtiskS8R75n1VmFhlG5odSKAQBr4WtXj5HQTPgMvB0ybnuecfa0FWtRXfsZ/s1600/blog3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtyveNYjSo4d8IowUnuaBM-OClpmFsZyyk9gDGFAwJybR1qE3y60bRLsuTYm8pJvgVDTr_-DPXmCsh9NjjFNtiskS8R75n1VmFhlG5odSKAQBr4WtXj5HQTPgMvB0ybnuecfa0FWtRXfsZ/s1600/blog3.jpg" height="320" width="238"></a>When these resorts decide to throw an employee party, it can get complicated. Rob, Doug, and I worked a long day today for an employee-appreciation celebration and it was <i>so much fun</i>! But also exhausting. Honestly, this blog post will probably suck. I have no wind left in my sails today. Typing kind of hurts. I got about three hours of sleep last night because I'm really bad at making myself fall asleep early. Not the best approach to preparing for a caricature marathon that starts at sunrise.<br>
<br>I'm used to these gigs around December. Some of the holiday parties are crazy long, employing multiple artists over sometimes a stretch of 12 hours straight in order to give all three shifts of workers a chance to get to the event. This one was for a smaller sized Strip resort, only about eight hundred employees, so we were hired in spurts. We arrived at 6:30 am and drew for two hours, then got a long break and worked again from 11 am till 2 pm, then had a longish break again and finished up our last drawing shift at 9pm. So though it was a 14-hour day, at least it was broken up a bit. However, we were kind of trapped on property because you can't really leave and do anything substantial in a couple of hours. Going home would eat up 45 minutes each way, if traffic was cooperative, and why bother wasting the gas?<br>
<br>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwPLZo82q7bDDoqUAauYMhZCjy6ksPL9mxDizKBJOQ6JHKfPW8jtE28vd0WtdCquiZ0KmnslXDUl_uRm5r5N63GA9wg_Pt3PKOt4kRZ65MiGCbUCJqYQH-FuHwxxQwaZyv-29CI1jGr4h/s1600/blog1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwPLZo82q7bDDoqUAauYMhZCjy6ksPL9mxDizKBJOQ6JHKfPW8jtE28vd0WtdCquiZ0KmnslXDUl_uRm5r5N63GA9wg_Pt3PKOt4kRZ65MiGCbUCJqYQH-FuHwxxQwaZyv-29CI1jGr4h/s1600/blog1.jpg" height="320" width="239"></a>Likewise, we don't want to be too obviously on property while we are relaxing between drawing sessions--it's just bad juju to hang out too close to where the client and guests are. If you linger, you invariably invite questions from the hoi polloi: When are you going to start up again? How can I sign up to be first when you guys start? Can you start early, pretty please? Twice in the ladies' room I found myself recognized. "Hey, you're the caricature artist! When do you guys start again, will you be here tomorrow too? You're way better than those two guys working with you." (Hahahaahah! Rob and Doug probably got the exact same thing in the mens' room.) It's just more comfortable to get as far away from your target audience as possible when you're not on duty.<br>
<br>
Luckily, this gig was happening near where Doug does tattooing part time. So we were able to sneak into the "Tattoo cabana," which happened to be vacant. A small room, but comfortable and with wifi. We killed nearly two hours in there, just chatting, and Rob caught a short nap on the tattoo chair. It was peaceful and, more important, away from all of THEM, all those people we'd been drawing and would be drawing again soon. We kept the curtains drawn, the lights dim, and just enjoyed the quiet. Rob said it felt like we were hiding from the Nazis and suggested someone start a diary. <br>
<br>
I make it sound like we hated the people, but nothing would be farther from the truth. The drawing time wasn't bad at all. With any group of local people like that, you get to experience Vegas being a small town again. A good portion of the employees we drew were lifelong Vegas natives, and so we end up finding people who went to our same high school, or even graduated in the same class. So the chatter is always fun. Banter happens, and it's an adults-only environment where one can lapse into blue material if you also stay coy and classy about it. And on three hours' sleep I'm friggin' HILARIOUS. Or at least <i>I</i> think so.<br>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggKHWogQvOj9C84Kz_O2tVFVD20d7zSDnFmYd6IuwUF0WlNSgBo_M4pSuunU2GItPvZctb4APaIbD3rbYzxrtymNg6oU2tU1AebxCRn13yE-iBs-plX9LSaQJtLZglHV5UG9G7v5lDpxE2/s1600/blog2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggKHWogQvOj9C84Kz_O2tVFVD20d7zSDnFmYd6IuwUF0WlNSgBo_M4pSuunU2GItPvZctb4APaIbD3rbYzxrtymNg6oU2tU1AebxCRn13yE-iBs-plX9LSaQJtLZglHV5UG9G7v5lDpxE2/s1600/blog2.jpg" height="320" width="239"></a><br>
<br>
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Our contacts were awesome, and though there were a few bureaucratic snags (there always are when dealing with a large corporation and it's accounting department), they resolved everything in due time and made us feel really welcome. When they were unable to get us special dispensation to eat in the employee dining room, they instead handed us three comps for the nicer tavern restaurant out in the casino. It's definitely awesome working for folks in the hospitality industry!</div>
<br>
<br>
To minimize muscle strain, all of us were using markers, which flowed with ease and stood out on the paper. I'm really loving the Crayola marker barrels filled with copic ink, and I'd made enough for all three of us to use. It was fun being between Rob's excellent structural skills and Doug's adorable, curvy linework. Both of them, being seasoned pros, took to the markers with ease. We were going at a good clip and, between the three of us, produced around 300 caricatures over the course of the day. Any feelings of awkwardness or needing to "warm up" fade after the first leg of the race, so I felt "on" for the rest of the hours. And just like some experience a runner's high, I swear there is a "caricaturist's high."<br>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMxTsKd_W-8BvfvJiONyYeKvDKzghFtAI7OVRk4dK-iY9HGNB5xHJkly1xL_xH3Vsvv4vHp8eDEqlez7N_hC_OwlthkDpIO2S2kak8z62yVvEku6b0AJCabkYhAI8arLCFCHEXiA3weP-a/s1600/blog4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMxTsKd_W-8BvfvJiONyYeKvDKzghFtAI7OVRk4dK-iY9HGNB5xHJkly1xL_xH3Vsvv4vHp8eDEqlez7N_hC_OwlthkDpIO2S2kak8z62yVvEku6b0AJCabkYhAI8arLCFCHEXiA3weP-a/s1600/blog4.jpg" height="320" width="320"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy. I had SUCH fun drawing this guy!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br>
The different demographics filed in group by group, we'd spend an hour working on housekeepers, then several valets and bellhops would file in (sweating and happy to be indoors, it was 111 degrees today!). Managers, dealers, cocktail waitresses, lifeguards, front desk receptionists, I.T. folks, all took their turns. The security guards all had a great sense of humor and kept asking me to draw them "mean" or "angry." I ended up drawing one of these guys looking furious, with the Hulk in the background saying "Calm down, Hulk no like you when you're angry." I figured it would be a hit or a flop--luckily the guy <i>loved</i> it and laughed for a solid thirty seconds before showing it around. (Doug made fun of me for needing to do a quick Google search in order to properly draw the Hulk.) It felt like the last few drawings were breaking into new territory for me, pushing a little farther than I've been able to before. At the end of a gig like this I feel such a combination of exhaustion, giddiness, and euphoria . . . it could all be an illusion, as I said I'm crazy sleep-deprived right now, but pushing yourself to that point seems to be a way to tap into a deeper level of muscle memory and learning. I felt great.<br>
<br>
Now I really, really, really need to sleep.<br>
<br>
<br>CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-64779388281933568962014-06-25T01:36:00.001-07:002014-06-25T01:48:24.254-07:00Selling LiesI had a weird day this week. I worked a retail shift with a good friend of mine who runs a caricature operation here in town, and he started discussing his cousin's kid, who has been in about a zillion pageants and is always showing up on his Facebook feed in glitzy not-so-age-appropriate outfits, pancake makeup, and with photoshop smoothing to boot. It creeps him out, understandably. We talked about over-the-top pageant looks, visual lies, manipulation, image, and all sorts of concepts that come up when child pageants are discussed . . . and, as caricature artists who regularly see moms primp and polish their kid before ordering the kid to sit down and project a fake perfect smile for us, we both had opinions.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6EpCrF8QwgvRT738OAqV70RAX9NWX187DApdosy-N_AJx2g18y-p5L0gHgIcgDXJtpKms-YgNc-b1cz4LZv8Qebp9o2OUrm6eU9ge6aBc2QqMU_iXVzKtxTG4dNXBrsmehToyqzu510w5/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6EpCrF8QwgvRT738OAqV70RAX9NWX187DApdosy-N_AJx2g18y-p5L0gHgIcgDXJtpKms-YgNc-b1cz4LZv8Qebp9o2OUrm6eU9ge6aBc2QqMU_iXVzKtxTG4dNXBrsmehToyqzu510w5/s1600/images.jpeg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Now hold on, Brittany, let's get you<br />
ready for your caricature drawing . . . "</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
If anyone's seen Johnny Knoxville's recent movie <i>Bad Grandpa,</i> there is a scene where his "grandson" is dolled up to look like an adorable (if scantily-clad and overly-made-up) little girl in order to compete in the Pretty Princess Pageant. That makes a big point about these pageants: it's so full of artifice that you can slather any kid with the trappings of pageantry and they can look like they fit in. Children's faces don't have sexual characteristics, there's no defined jawline or specifically feminine or masculine features yet, so it doesn't matter--boy, girl, potato--the thing under the makeup will end up looking however the mom (or stylist) decides to make them look. Total freedom to reinvent. It's all a visual lie.<br />
<br />
But some of the kids LOVE it, right? The girls absolutely adore the pageant primping and being onstage, so it's okay, right? It's what they want. Even if the mom may have pushed it on her daughter a little, or a lot, at first, and sure, maybe mom could have instead pushed soccer, or gymnastics, or robotics club, or beekeeping . . . what's the harm, the kid has been exposed to pageant dress-up and loves it now, right?<br />
<br />
Then after our discussion on child beauty pageants, I met one of the new artists as she came in to work the night shift. She excitedly told us of a little epiphany she'd had last time she worked: she had drawn one of the nearby vendors, an older lady, and after she finished, she asked for criticism and feedback. What did the lady like or not like about the drawing? Big shock, she wanted a few things to be changed about her appearance, had always hated her nose and wanted a different one, and to be younger and prettier. The hopeful newbie then did a second drawing with a much smaller nose, much more model-type good looks, and although it bore no real resemblance to the subject, of course we all know which one the recipient preferred. The new artist said she was just going to ask folks from now on, "Which features about yourself do you not like? What do you want me to change, and how?" It would be a great improvement in customer service, her patrons would be so much happier that way, she reasoned.<br />
<br />
My coworker and I groaned and looked at each other. "No, you really don't want to do that." She was insistent and optimistic, saying "But I can, so why not? It's what people want!"<br />
<br />
And I have to admit, I had a little trouble putting it into words why that was a bad idea. She had a major point: it <i>does seem</i> to be what some people really want. And they are the customer, they are paying you. I'm sure I had similar ideas when I started out drawing caricatures too. In high school, drawing my friends, I remember <i>trying</i> to "fix" things about my friends and then wondering why it turned out not looking like them--but they always liked the drawings and appreciated the enhancements.<br />
<br />
On the drive home I mentally listed out the problems I had with this customer-is-always-right approach:<br />
<br />
1. First, I would worry about turning the caricature experience into a buffet of artistic requests. I don't want to listen to an insecure woman rattle off all the things she wants drawn differently from her actual face. I mean, I have to listen to that anyway. If I were to actually INVITE the list, I fear how long that list would grow and how demanding some patrons would become.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj07zIUPJZT8feN9R7Dho-j3Jox5liYNIb5qwTmgxf5iPJgfiQhyphenhyphenLr58wIkhgHAJm6vxd9oiT_zLZkIYnhlrzm4TP4IW6FRjwh241CJ1AHYJJw_zCmW8qTEIplzfDBOlteqC4S93dQ5DyWW/s1600/large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj07zIUPJZT8feN9R7Dho-j3Jox5liYNIb5qwTmgxf5iPJgfiQhyphenhyphenLr58wIkhgHAJm6vxd9oiT_zLZkIYnhlrzm4TP4IW6FRjwh241CJ1AHYJJw_zCmW8qTEIplzfDBOlteqC4S93dQ5DyWW/s1600/large.jpg" height="370" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Can you fix my hair, like make it longer, and can you add makeup? And<br />
make my nose smaller than it is, and I don't want to show you my teeth<br />
because they're all janked up, can you just make up a better smile?<br />
I totally hate my brown eyes, can you make them blue? And add<br />
eyelashes and fix my brows. And no double-chin. OMIGOD I LOVE<br />
IT! But dang, why it don't look like me?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
2. Putting this into practice would be a good way to un-learn how to draw. Or rather, un-learn how to observe. You would be willfully ignoring what you see in front of you and instead aiming for some imagined, described ideal.<br />
<br />
3. The people walking by will all think, "Wow, looks nothing like that person." An insecure person who wants to change their face might sit for a drawing, and they might like it if you lie to them on the paper, but spectators are impressed with truth. A good likeness is what gets their attention. They can see store mannequins anytime they want.<br />
<br />
4. Because I've <i>done</i> it before. We all have. When faced with a demanding customer, who hasn't stretched the truth, or agreed to "fix" something on someone's face? And after you have a large number of drawings under your belt, you can look back and see that this approach has a good chance of BACKFIRING. The very fact that someone is telling a caricature artists to fix this or change that is a red flag that you may be dealing with a very problematic customer. Usually you can muddle by and reduce the wrinkles just a little, ignore the gap in the teeth, maybe not go too crazy on the nose wart that she is nervous about, or minimize the freckles that the kid is sensitive over, but still make it look enough like the person so you don't feel like a total failure. And with luck you will get paid. But the number one indicator that a drawing will be rejected is not the quality of the drawing, or the artist's temperament, or the price . . . it is whether or not the client sits down and <i>immediately tells you how to do your job</i>. When someone sits down like this at a fair, we all wince and know there's a better-than-average chance the drawing will end up rejected no matter what.<br />
<br />
5. For me, personally, blatantly giving in and taking requests like this would completely, utterly, horribly, take away my job satisfaction. Do I like making people happy? Of course. But above that, it makes me happy to get a likenes. To pull off a drawing that is funny, whimsical, stretched, and captures the model. Deep down, I want to believe that the drawing will be more valuable to the person if it does look like them, with no interference from the model about what I have permission to draw and what I should replace with some feature from Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt. What are they going to do with a drawing that bears no resemblance? Will they keep it? Will anyone they know view it as something of worth?<br />
<br />
At the first <a href="http://www.caricature.org/">ISCA</a> convention I ever attended, I remember <a href="http://www.tomhuf.com/index.html">Tom "Huf" Hofsteadt</a> saying one thing over and over again during his caricature seminar: <b><i>"If it has no likeness, it has no value."</i></b> If ever there was a retail caricature mantra, I'd vote for that one right there.<br />
<br />
But when you think about it, about our society today and the typical customer-service model, it's understandable if some folks expect to be able to dictate the rules of how they are drawn, and it's even understandable if some artists let the customer have their comforting lies if they want to pay for them. Commerce, capitalism, supply and demand. If someone demands their picture be a certain way, you need to supply it if you can--right? <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj4NjbGn5YGfQ-1KowNRMeMy-LadBO2HEYnTC5_meh20kn9PNtltrv9Z2XYyI_oDIMtfhqm-QoXP0jfFE_v_cNJ25US5T4yqqiHGnH4HU4BJ59nQKM21tEVfZEbA9Qyhw5JYjJdx8CaJF6/s1600/jack-nicholson-592x220.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj4NjbGn5YGfQ-1KowNRMeMy-LadBO2HEYnTC5_meh20kn9PNtltrv9Z2XYyI_oDIMtfhqm-QoXP0jfFE_v_cNJ25US5T4yqqiHGnH4HU4BJ59nQKM21tEVfZEbA9Qyhw5JYjJdx8CaJF6/s1600/jack-nicholson-592x220.jpg" height="147" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH . . . ABOUT YOUR FACE!!!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
There are many, many places where people can pay a professional to craft a nice lie for them. The ladies working the makeup counter will help you reduce the appearance of wrinkles and lengthen your lashes. If makeup is too temporary a lie, plastic surgeons will permanently reconstruct a feature you'd rather not live with (there is even an <a href="http://www.snopes.com/media/notnews/uglybaby.asp">urban legend</a> about a chinese man who felt so "lied to" because of his wife's extensive plastic surgery that he sued her when their baby came out ugly). The costume shop can turn you into a sexy pirate, even if you've never set foot on a ship. And there are those aforementioned child pageants that will turn your delightful toddler into a miniature version of an over-the-top drag queen and give her a trophy to remember the occasion.<br />
<br />
Is the caricature booth one of those places? Should it be?<br />
<br />
There are also jobs where lying is literally a criminal act. Lawyers cannot lie to their clients, nor can doctors--even if falsely telling someone their cholesterol numbers are totally fine would, in fact, be comforting to them. Plumbers, carpenters, auto mechanics . . . no one wants one of those professionals to be dishonest with them, even if, jokingly, you might say "aw, c'mon, please tell me that rattle I hear isn't the transmission! Tell me it's something cheap like a hose or a belt!"<br />
<br />
Now, when I say something like this to my mechanic, I don't actually mean that I want him to lie to me. He understands I am kidding. He fixes my car, and my life can literally depend on him doing his job. And although caricatures aren't exactly life-or-death, they are actually kind of important to me. I like to think (in fact, I often force myself to assume) that when customers tell me to change this, fix that, alter these, etc., they are at some level, also kidding around. They must surely know that I'm a professional and I know how to draw them better than they could draw themselves. If they wanted to dictate the features used in the caricature, they could just cut out bits of celebrities from magazines and make their own for free.<br />
<br />
One guy I worked with had a foolproof (if passive-agressive) system for dealing with this type of request-heavy customer. Whatever she/he asked for, this artist would say "Suuuuure, no problem. You bet. Absolutely. You got it, coming right up." And see, he'd be very soothing and then chat them up and have a good time. And he would ignore every single vain request he ever got and just draw how he drew. I found that he had a lot of success with this method, it seemed to work better than trying to explain that you don't want to alter features and educate a dumb-ass fairgoer on the whole philosophy behind caricature and why you have too much artistic integrity to sling generic Barbie cartoons. So he just agreed to anything, and the customer <i>thought</i> they were getting what they wanted, so when they saw the end result they liked it. I guess he <i>was</i> lying--just not in the way the customer was asking him to.<br />
<br />
Customers can also be brought around with a smile, a joke or two, and a little tough-love honesty. When asked to "pretend" someone is fifty pounds lighter, or fifteen years younger, I often say "Sure, I'll pretend that. And YOU can pretend that I take requests." If you smile with the deadpan delivery, you won't get beat up. Probably. I haven't been yet.<br />
<br />
My point is that I try to hold the gate, in my own small way, keeping this profession as honest as I can try and make it. I don't always succeed, but I try. And while I want customers to be happy, I also don't want them to start thinking of caricatures as <i>drawings that aren't supposed to look like you.</i> Everyone who does caricatures has, at some point, heard that line uttered behind them, and it sucks to hear. Nor should every caricature artist be treated like a pair of mindless artistic hands for hire that can be completely controlled (even when doing so results in a shitty drawing because of shitty requests for lies). Too many aspects of life these days seems to rely on lies or artifice. I have no idea how these young girls on <i>Toddlers & Tiaras</i> will turn out . . . but if they grow up and decide to get a caricatures, I sure hope they will have outgrown their need to have their faces covered up with falseness until they are bland Barbies in ruffles, all the same, without a flaw or a feature.<br />
<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-69285481441865382282014-06-17T18:48:00.003-07:002014-06-17T21:27:06.142-07:00Radiation and You: Working in the Sun<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1EV-pES6lvBjqosWPbciwDoDCNso30hpR107GxUkl1PdmrKCRIR4pcftOT-FNYKUSg5dO_u8CPuziI8hOjyF4HuACNGzXl4z0emZ-vbtc3NVM0v60aaWaS7r1PZLquwHxC2txtExFYo5L/s1600/sunblog3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1EV-pES6lvBjqosWPbciwDoDCNso30hpR107GxUkl1PdmrKCRIR4pcftOT-FNYKUSg5dO_u8CPuziI8hOjyF4HuACNGzXl4z0emZ-vbtc3NVM0v60aaWaS7r1PZLquwHxC2txtExFYo5L/s1600/sunblog3.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a>Aaaaah, summer is here. Fucking awful, hot, disgusting, dangerous, deadly summer. And with it are tons of party planners organizing picnics, pool parties, and other events that, unfortunately, invite the sun--and he can be a very annoying guest.<br />
<br />
Don't worry, I'm not just blogging to complain. I'll share some helpful hints (well, hopefully they will help). I'm no stranger to out-of-doors caricaturing. I work fairs that sometimes end up sunny, and my first eight or nine years was spent caricaturing at Baltimore's Camden Yards during the baseball season for Rick Wright, and the sun for those day games was brutal. Rick never seemed to mind the heat--and some coworkers even speculated that he had some lizard DNA that allowed him to happily soak up the sun and draw while the rest of us sweated buckets. It was always a long, painful wait as we watched the shadow of the warehouse wall creep ever-so-slowly until it finally covered our whole booth in blessed, cool shade.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89bwZVSHJvVlM7-OE5cuzXPLBrkBCts4Yxe9msHQCQ3k71oUuvjl61P6vTelB4ZdPY-PZR4-bxOjDamgplLRWVnm-Nb8OsVVLqbYHeS5q18P42Qi1YKI3KbPypGif0aWMAIX3TNIchzeu/s1600/sunblog2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi89bwZVSHJvVlM7-OE5cuzXPLBrkBCts4Yxe9msHQCQ3k71oUuvjl61P6vTelB4ZdPY-PZR4-bxOjDamgplLRWVnm-Nb8OsVVLqbYHeS5q18P42Qi1YKI3KbPypGif0aWMAIX3TNIchzeu/s1600/sunblog2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the less disgustingly hot days at Camden Yards (with<br />
Emily Anthony, who still draws there more often than I can!).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There are three things that you have to contend with, as a caricaturist, when you're working in a hot, full-sun environment: your own physical discomfort (dehydration, sapped energy, being blinded by the white paper), your model's squinty-eyed scowl due to the sun, and the technical problems that a hot environment poses to your media (sweat dripping on paper or chalk, markers drying out immediately, even printers frying if it's a digital gig).<br />
<br />
The best possible solution to all three of these problems is to avoid the sun altogether. I try not to come off as a prima donna and I use careful language like "for best results" or "for the comfort of your guests and for the artist's safety" in emails where I am specifying that I'll need to be placed in the shade. That usually does the trick. Living in Las Vegas, I have gotten to the point where I have just refused to book the event if it's in the sun during the months of July or August. Those are seriously dangerous months. Most people who have lived here for any stretch of time understand how awful the heat gets during summer, so it's not usually an issue. Still, every once in a while someone calls and seems to think it's no big deal if the hired help will be in the sun for several hours--because we're getting paid, right? Avoid clients and agents who think like that.<br />
<br />
More often, thankfully, you are dealing with a rational, friendly person who is just trying to put together a nice outdoor event for their kid's birthday or a company outing. Sometimes an outdoor event has mist coolers, which will help you remain comfortable but also soak your paper! So you might have to set up in a hot area just to keep the paper dry. Or you're set up at a festival where, despite your best efforts, the sun will be hitting your booth for a stretch of hours. And sometimes events get shuffled around, or the agents had no idea it was in the open air with no shade structures. In other words, shit happens, and if you need to be in the sun to pay your bills, sometimes you just gotta make due.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3u3gpu6W_PPi0Wnqbk7s_I0pNxpRyAyLmVksOFAf_YBlVnjaVmZFxrA-xrUyo_SOBCivNKuPbrly0AGWO1G49Y3FCVU57wfOr6MbAlGn-1KQhYD14tuAxH3ZPrIgeutgD-5ypcyV-a98n/s1600/sunblog1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3u3gpu6W_PPi0Wnqbk7s_I0pNxpRyAyLmVksOFAf_YBlVnjaVmZFxrA-xrUyo_SOBCivNKuPbrly0AGWO1G49Y3FCVU57wfOr6MbAlGn-1KQhYD14tuAxH3ZPrIgeutgD-5ypcyV-a98n/s1600/sunblog1.jpg" height="320" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I <i>loved</i> the neat beach bucket-and-shovel snack buffet<br />
this swim party had . . . the sun, I didn't love so much.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I worked two events this past week that were in partial sun: one, at a high-school football field, had literally no structure that could provide shade, and the other, at a municipal pool, had a mixture of danger zones--some shade, but it meant setting up by showers or poolside with splashing kids, so I had to pick my danger. It's pretty humbling: normally I'm good to go, without even a pee break, for four or five hours of straight drawing. Yet I was pretty sapped of energy after finishing these quick two-hour gigs.<br />
<br />
Sunscreen is probably a big "well duh." Use it! It will help keep you from looking like a prune in your early 40s. But test it out first--make sure you don't have a sensitivity to it. I found out I have to stick with the baby stuff for my face or I end up rubbing my eyes and blinking like I'm chopping onions. In Florida one time I had to keep explaining to people that I wasn't crying because they were so ugly and hard to draw, it was just a reaction to the sunscreen I'd picked up from the convenience mart.<br />
<br />
Wearing a big sun hat is imperative, preferably one that breathes a little so the top of your head gets some air circulation. Staying hydrated is also key, as you will keel over before you know it if you're lacking water. So it makes you pee often? Too bad, that's better than dying, so get a couple bottles of H2O and keep them by your easel leg where you can grab them between drawings. Bring sunglasses, even if you don't want to compromise the tones you see on people's faces . . . you won't be able to see ANYTHING if you're blinded by the sun reflecting off the white paper.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp890-uZFat_sV32SUVAp1JpfGO6YigwjJ2A52zdoEOf6Z_cby8cKnyTYmufMBiOEgE9yHZ_bkBvXmDMMhtWT4MoGvqteYxy7my5GNrFUGaOTmGdZErbl4mEGvp00ywr4U0d7R7eDZS25f/s1600/cool-downz-icy-neck-wrap-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp890-uZFat_sV32SUVAp1JpfGO6YigwjJ2A52zdoEOf6Z_cby8cKnyTYmufMBiOEgE9yHZ_bkBvXmDMMhtWT4MoGvqteYxy7my5GNrFUGaOTmGdZErbl4mEGvp00ywr4U0d7R7eDZS25f/s1600/cool-downz-icy-neck-wrap-8.jpg" height="200" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They may not be fashionable, but<br />
they work. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
My years at the ballpark taught me some other tricks too. Your neck is a giant blood circulating conduit, so a few ice cubes wrapped in a bandana and tied around your neck can do wonders. For a little while anyway. I later discovered nifty gel neckerchiefs at the sporting goods store that you could stick in ice water for a while and then enjoy coolness from for hours (it's also a lot less drippy than ice cubes). I highly recommend those to anyone who has to work outdoors for any stretch of time. You can buy them all over the place, at big box stores and <a href="http://www.healthandbodystore.com/cool-downz.html?gclid=CjkKEQjwttWcBRCuhYjhouveusIBEiQAwjy8IAQW6YGA-FwTg9J6ssb2QWcuJzVPfPAsUcDo2iPyzcTw_wcB">online</a> and there's even <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vawDKXGBLSc">video tutorials</a> on how to make your own if you're a crafty person.<br />
<br />
None of these things will protect you completely. Once you start feeling the effects of sun stroke, <i>you need to cool down.</i> Don't "power through," just excuse yourself and take a goddamn break. Weakness or cramps, lack of sweat, nausea, headache, dizziness, and rapid heartbeat are some of the <i>nicer</i> symptoms of sun stroke. Some of the later symptoms you could develop are seizures or unconsciousness. No color double sale is worth that. Find an air-conditioned area or someplace shady and just rest a while. Get some cold water into yourself. If you really overdid it, you might need to call it quits for the day and feel miserable for the next FEW days!<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_r9Se3WWr4l6-jFvQgOZ9b1WvIIGU5t4YC2akuIhJnKzFDt89EuQv64lct-BaQQgoWI6k-YgqJnWJ6uus_Y9LI3HnItdDx_90qSe7rJn3Jzgo5rbmQg0RQ3SIwJZNqA5rp77gT8LhL8D/s1600/baby+powder.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1_r9Se3WWr4l6-jFvQgOZ9b1WvIIGU5t4YC2akuIhJnKzFDt89EuQv64lct-BaQQgoWI6k-YgqJnWJ6uus_Y9LI3HnItdDx_90qSe7rJn3Jzgo5rbmQg0RQ3SIwJZNqA5rp77gT8LhL8D/s1600/baby+powder.jpg" height="200" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's not just for baby butts.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But if you're not dangerously overheated, just uncomfortable and sweaty, it will still make for some annoying problems with your paper. Sweaty hands do not glide over paper the way you're used to. Buy a little travel-size shaker of baby powder and use it on your drawing hand--I was surprised at how well this worked, it kept me drawing fast and loose even in swampy, humid, awful weather.<br />
<br />
For outdoor gigs, I have also taken to bringing both graphite and markers. I had never had a problem with markers drying out spontaneously in humid weather, but in the dry, arid desert air I have had my markers fail me. New ones ran dry within a few strokes and it was terribly annoying. I switched to my old Caran D'ache graphite holder and it worked much better (for that outdoor gig anyway).<br />
<br />
Hopefully this helps, and please share any other tips in the comments--I'm always looking for ways to help get cool during July and August.<br />
<br />
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<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-89465722703179435132014-06-10T22:59:00.000-07:002014-06-11T00:26:03.970-07:00Orange Is the New BlackRobert and I have a few shows we binge on when they come out. Orange is the New Black was a quick favorite when it debuted on Netflix last year, and we have been pretty excited about the new season. Over the past few days, we dug in and watched the lives of Piper, Crazy Eyes, Red, Tasty, and all the other folks at Litchfield Women's Prison. I will try not to have any spoilers below, so fear not if you're still partway though the 13-episode release.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIc7gmTa8wxOha2b1pWlvGHK_nzn38ZOoEMPjF05F27QFTHuip5cQ0pYjqMQNaM4z598kyxVfra6FXXekDC6xI2OhdWJTiELjfOQ9WWLdZPJXwEktpnNYCtCMD3shBZUqRd45uXj_-6rcu/s1600/Orange1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIc7gmTa8wxOha2b1pWlvGHK_nzn38ZOoEMPjF05F27QFTHuip5cQ0pYjqMQNaM4z598kyxVfra6FXXekDC6xI2OhdWJTiELjfOQ9WWLdZPJXwEktpnNYCtCMD3shBZUqRd45uXj_-6rcu/s1600/Orange1.jpg" height="400" width="253" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob played around with Piper's weird skull<br />
and sunken eyes and Crazy Eyes' scowl.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
For all you cartoonists, there's a little sub-plot that harkens back to what all of us were probably doing in high school: drawing pictures of ourselves with our crushes and drawing mean caricatures of the administration. You'll get to see Daya, the pregnant inmate, develop her drawing ability and even put it to use in some animal-themed caricatures that poke fun at some of the prison staffers.<br />
<br />
This show offers another unique thing that should appeal to caricature artists: very "imperfect" female faces with no makeup, every episode, all episode. I cannot recall any television show that showcased women's looks quite like this. And sure there is makeup of a sort--it's television, everyone has some makeup done in some way--but the look on OITNB is definitely "natural and haggard," with just a few traditional shots at beauty makeup here and there . . . we have the transgender Amazon who goes to great lengths to maintain her appearance, the shaggy-haired lesbian who is never seen without panda-like circles of cheap mascara, and the red lips of the Italian mail-fraud queen (who ends up getting asked to write a "makeup tips" column for the prison newsletter and recommends instant coffee as an eyeshadow alternative). Oh wait, I said no spoilers, sorry.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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It's a treat, visually, to see all these female characters stripped down bare to their humanity. I don't mean stripped bare literally--though that certainly happens quite a few times--but just laid out without the artifice that usually accompanies every female character on television. I have rolled my eyes at shows that feature a plucky female sidekick who is supposedly "not comfortable" wearing makeup and makes a point of saying she never uses it, when it's clear that there's an inch of smoothing foundation, lip color, natural-shade eyeshadow, and mascara on that actress. Just because it's just not glaring, like Mimi from <i>The Drew Carey Show</i>, doesn't mean we don't notice it's there, honey. We all have HDTVs today.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IEA3Uve5Bt21nMGTJfZpbm6p0w7uh0WPTcXe_oQQ650n6pjIk9NZt1kZzHbFU1hZfoyC6rrdPbwd4hHb2ipRYZsS95AtOrgBRMj_ckKyyrbk9T2rARtvA1-NrZQcZvdN1x7j0BwndGSn/s1600/house-of-women-0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IEA3Uve5Bt21nMGTJfZpbm6p0w7uh0WPTcXe_oQQ650n6pjIk9NZt1kZzHbFU1hZfoyC6rrdPbwd4hHb2ipRYZsS95AtOrgBRMj_ckKyyrbk9T2rARtvA1-NrZQcZvdN1x7j0BwndGSn/s1600/house-of-women-0.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Golly, this prison would be insufferable if it weren't for the<br />
unlimited rations of hair spray, concealer, and pantyhose."</td></tr>
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This laying out of female features, unsmoothed and raw, is reinforced by the opening sequence. Close ups of lips, noses, eyebrows, all beset with age spots, creases, blemishes, and the scars of everyday living. The lyrics of the theme song ring out "Animals, animals, trapped trapped trapped, till the cage is full . . . " making you think of these women as primates living in a confined space, which is what they are. They certainly don't embody the typical femininity portrayed on television and movies. There is no Vaseline-smeared lens in this TV show, no soft focus. Scenes of women stuck in solitary confinement aren't shot with dim lighting, which has become a trope in prison films . . . rather, Kohen shoots those scenes with harsh florescent lighting, bright and inescapable. <br />
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Femininity's mystique goes out the window too. There are conversations about female anatomy that are usually taboo on television. One scene has the transgender woman deftly explaining the different holes, vagina versus urethra, and the labia majora and labia minora, to a mesmerized group of young women who have never learned their own anatomy. When asked how she knew so much about the hoo-hoo, the trans Amazon replies "Please, honey, I had to design one." Jokes and remarks about menses and blood-stained panties are served up with unabashed glee. Two older women discuss female masturbation.<br />
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While in some ways the characters can typify stereotypical "masculine" behavior, usually to comic effect (two of the more adventurous lesbians have a "sex contest" and assign point values to all the other inmates), there is a noticeable difference in how these characters act compared to what we might expect from male prisoners. This is not <i>Oz</i> with vaginas. Several moments felt like they were building to a violent climax, only to have the women talk things out, figure out a compromise on their own, and even remark that they should be able to settle things diplomatically because they are women. This is not to say the show is without violence . . . just, it won't come to blows as often as you might expect it to.<br />
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There's this thing called a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bechdel_test">"Bechdel Test"</a> (named for a cartoonist, Alison Bechdel, who came up with the idea and presented it in her comic <i>Dykes to Watch Out For</i>). It asks whether a movie features at least one scene where two female characters talk to each other, and the conversation is not about a man. Think about that--how many movies out there fail this test? Even<i> Avengers</i>, from Joss Wheden, who is known for writing excellent strong female characters, fails this test. With <i>Orange Is the New Black</i>, it's honestly hard for me to figure out if there's even a single episode that lives up to the REVERSE of the Bechdel test. When two male guards are conversing, it's generally about a female inmate. It's like Jenji Kohan has purposely taken the typical entertainment model and turned it upside down.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtgBKvrNWRAasoxNXq9LEo59Oktf8xd22mZVBkYntjp4MDHfXe2jDl6w8i5F1fTcEWikZcpcrRvSx4dF18i4NdML1nmYd5KsbUsYkKVRq1ICiNDLYimJ5bFXFkbmqeFtuv-qXoFLhAGXE/s1600/dykes.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtgBKvrNWRAasoxNXq9LEo59Oktf8xd22mZVBkYntjp4MDHfXe2jDl6w8i5F1fTcEWikZcpcrRvSx4dF18i4NdML1nmYd5KsbUsYkKVRq1ICiNDLYimJ5bFXFkbmqeFtuv-qXoFLhAGXE/s1600/dykes.png" height="462" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alison Bechdel, <i>Dykes to Watch Out For</i>, circa 1985.</td></tr>
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Anyway, it was a blast watching these new episodes, and I couldn't help but draw a bit. Rob doodled out some studies in his sketchbook and I sat with my Ipad and knocked out a Piper and a Crazy Eyes. </div>
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Crazy Eyes (Suzanne Watson, played by Uzo Aduba) has been a favorite since the start--she is such an unpredictable, yet endearing character. Crazy Eyes takes a dark turn this season, coming under the influence of a new, incredibly manipulative inmate that seems to make everyone else in Litchfield look like a girl scout in comparison. All the characters take different turns this season, and you find yourself rooting for people who before had seemed irredeemable; likewise, characters that you thought were in the "nice" category show some pretty glaring flaws as they deal with problems that are too big for them to handle.</div>
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Now I just have to wait another year before season 3. </div>
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<br />CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1236813364563375770.post-54687798711289202202014-06-05T00:26:00.000-07:002014-06-05T01:42:36.520-07:00Artists and Mental Illness, part 2I am not a scholar. Bear that in mind as you read this. I have worked with scholars, having spent nearly a decade working at an academic press and having helped out with the odd PhD dissertation here and there, so I can sometimes <i>sound</i> scholarly. And I do have a fascination with the brain and how it works (I have already bought my ticket to <a href="http://www.amazingmeeting.com/">The Amazing Meeting</a> in July, which this year has a theme of "Skepticism and the Brain"). But academic research is not my trade. I looked at online sources, talked to a few people, and digested all this information from my own point of view as a working caricature artist. I had my own questions to answer, like:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LA4zm5XcYcsFlQFtI-5lhggF50AtJyM0NFSnoYDYgwHek9t_gIMoEz_Pbc9AHWTL-LwMOSR3lHlUMppkaOGgp8_Z85rqw5vErMLnMDeC0_SK5eiH-nfh7GIctS_Qau2e8CbTDRz-9AJ1/s1600/crazyArtist@2x-thumb-500x258.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4LA4zm5XcYcsFlQFtI-5lhggF50AtJyM0NFSnoYDYgwHek9t_gIMoEz_Pbc9AHWTL-LwMOSR3lHlUMppkaOGgp8_Z85rqw5vErMLnMDeC0_SK5eiH-nfh7GIctS_Qau2e8CbTDRz-9AJ1/s1600/crazyArtist@2x-thumb-500x258.gif" height="206" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Ellen Forney's <i>Marbles: Mania, Depression, Michelangelo, & Me</i><br />
(more about Michelangelo later . . .)</td></tr>
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<b></b><br />
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<b>--Am I or my coworkers more at risk for mental illness because of our trade?</b><br />
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<b>--How can a link like that be measured? </b><br />
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<b>--Is the actual link exaggerated by journalists, and therefore in the public's mind?</b></div>
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So, with a week to look around, here's what I found. </div>
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<h3>
First, A Meta-Review of the Numbers</h3>
There have been quite a few studies about creativity being entwined with madness; and it's a popular topic to get snatched up by journalists, so nearly everyone can remember reading some article, somewhere, that states artists are more likely to have mental health issues. A <a href="http://www.researchgate.net/publication/232503233_Psychoticism_and_Creativity_A_Meta-analytic_Review">2012 meta-review</a> looked at 32 such studies and found "the effect sizes were heterogeneous, but the overall mean effect size was small (<i>r</i> = .16)." That's not a very impressive coefficient of correlation. (If you don't want to download a statistics refresher PDF file, like I was forced to: <i>r</i> can be between -1 and 1, and zero indicates no linear effect). The coefficient went up when a particular test was used and "uniqueness" was the index of creativity, but that smacks of cherry-picking, so I'd trust the initial <i>r</i> value.<br />
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So, with this in mind, I kept wondering as a I read articles: are we making a mountain out of a molehill? Popular science writers often sway from the real meaning of studies to "dress up" otherwise drab findings into a snazzy eye-catching headline. It's amazing how many scientists are "baffled!" or "astounded!" according to popular headlines, even though the actual studies they quote are more blah than astounding or baffling. Plus the idea of creativity being associated with mental illess was such a pervasive one; the association first appeared in the 1970s, but a link between "genius" and "madness" dates back as far as the time of Aristotle, if Wikipedia is to be trusted. I waded through a bunch of articles to see what's out there.<br />
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<h3>
Popular Science Articles</h3>
A <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/health-19959565">2012 BBC article titled "Creativity 'Closely Entwined with Mental Illness'"</a> summarizes the research of a <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/23063328">Swedish team at the Karolinska Institute</a> and makes some general statements about creative types, especially writers but also visual artists. The article states that "those in the creative professions were no more likely to suffer from psychiatric disorders than other people. But they were more likely to have a close relative with a disorder." This article, too, tries to link the traits of some mental illness with the drive that leads some to enter an artistic field: "The restrictive and intense interests of someone with autism and the manic dive of a person with bipolar disorder might provide the necessary focus and determination for genius and creativity."<br />
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An earlier article by the same BBC health editor, titled <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/10154775">"Creative Minds 'Mimic Schizophrenia,'"</a>reports that "Brain scans reveal striking similarities in the thought pathways of highly creative people and those with scizophrenia. Both groups lack important receptors used to filter and direct thought." This study, too, draws on work from the Karolinska Institute, which apparently has been studying crazy artist types for a while now. The article goes on to state that "Creativity is known to be associated with an increased risk of depression, schizophenia, and bipolar disorder," but does not elaborate on how that was determined. But it quotes Professor Fredrik Ullen's findings that the brain's dopamine (D2) receptor genes (which experts think govern "divergent thought") might be key. People who did well on tests of divergent thought had a lower than expected density of D2 receptors in the thalamus--schizophrenics also show this lower density. The thalamus is a filter, parsing information and relaying it to the cortex (the seat of cognition and reasoning). So, this line of theorizing goes, some people have faulty filters, which means more of the everyday data that constantly hits us gets to the higher reasoning centers. That sounds like a good thing, I mean who doesn't want MORE information to get into their cortex (stupid brain, censoring what I get to think hard about!) . . . but if one's cognition center overflows constantly with every little bit of life's minutia (Look! A squirrel!) then it's easy to see how mental illness is the end result. The article ends on a happy note, quoting a psychologist who coaches people to be more creative: "The result is typically a significant rise in their well being, so as opposed to creativity being associated with mental illness it becomes associated with good mental health."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibSVRwI767qzBNiGjNQgrzvBBkkfbx3mTp6todk0DxbxqX13FljqkkEXxvT6Hq5wh3fIwtoSDQOS2x5ZxRsnDz2hlnejtsd9xHkikl05Gt8L1jw-sqYddRJUU7rotDkb9zDOEGZcMXpcLL/s1600/AT_logo_forweb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibSVRwI767qzBNiGjNQgrzvBBkkfbx3mTp6todk0DxbxqX13FljqkkEXxvT6Hq5wh3fIwtoSDQOS2x5ZxRsnDz2hlnejtsd9xHkikl05Gt8L1jw-sqYddRJUU7rotDkb9zDOEGZcMXpcLL/s1600/AT_logo_forweb.jpg" height="253" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Art can be a way to cope.</td></tr>
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So creative endeavors like art might actually be a recipe for mental health . . . I guess that makes sense, right? Art therapy happens in the mental health profession all the time.<br />
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A <a href="http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2005/11/051109092005.htm">Science Daily news release</a> mentions a small Stanford study from 2005 that found children of bipolar parents scored higher on creativity tests than "the healthy children." It goes on to repeat that many studies have found links and that "artists and writers may have two to three times more incidences of psychosis, mood disorders or suicide when compared with people in less creative professions." Rather than a filtering problem, like the schizophrenia link is theorized as, the bipolar-creativity link is explained as "mobilizing energy that results from negative emotion to initiate some sort of solution to their problems. 'In this case,' [says Dr. Terence Ketter,] 'discontent is the mother of invention.'"<br />
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So in this model, art can also be viewed as a means of quieting a mind, not stirring it up more. A coping mechanism. Again I'm thinking of the art therapy given in mental health facilities.<br />
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But already we have differing mechanisms to explain links of different cognitive disorders with "creativity," which can be described so broadly as to either mean "uniqueness" or working in a creative field, or doing well on a creative problem-solving test. These are all very complicated areas, no wonder people spend their lives working on some small aspect of these big, big questions. How can we simplify such complicated notions?<br />
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Nearly all these articles appear with a few choice examples of famous artists who were well-known sufferers of mental illness--or just really odd ducks. Along with writers like Plath, Hemmingway, and Poe, there were snippets about Van Gogh, Warhol, and Dali. Journalists do love sticking in some celebrity information to spice up any article, and by putting a famous face to a disease, or a trend, the article gets more tread and readers identify with the concepts more easily.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaF4vCOco9pAUc_2AJ7EIdYzsPjOSIGT5NYMzPZoYmIJXJKGQxiH4SjkqqpKj5kyTV6BbSaIrSv3IeLHrpNxLnW6W0N8meDJT8Y77ucfAw3JFGBaarnYJNQi8VH5dZFuOmtKC-_SYd7jsD/s1600/andywarhol_wideweb__470x397,0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaF4vCOco9pAUc_2AJ7EIdYzsPjOSIGT5NYMzPZoYmIJXJKGQxiH4SjkqqpKj5kyTV6BbSaIrSv3IeLHrpNxLnW6W0N8meDJT8Y77ucfAw3JFGBaarnYJNQi8VH5dZFuOmtKC-_SYd7jsD/s1600/andywarhol_wideweb__470x397,0.jpg" height="270" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turns out that soup cans weren't the only thing he held onto.</td></tr>
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I learned that Andy Warhol was apparently a hoarder . . . 20 years after his death, archivist Matt Wrbican has only made it through 19 of the artist's 610 "time capsules," according to an <a href="http://www.psmag.com/navigation/health-and-behavior/hoarding-science-55196/">article on the science of hoarding published in the Pacific Standard</a>. The reporter goes on to share the thoughts of Randy Frost, a psychology professor who authored the first systematic study of hoarding: "the neurological hallmarks of hoarding might indicate a giftedness in the aesthetic appreciation of the physical world, rather than pure illness . . . People who hoard tend to live their lives visually and spatially instead of categorically, like the rest of us do." Sound artistic to you? I had heard that hoarders, who in the DSM-4 are placed on the OCD spectrum, had a higher-than-average sense of 3-D visualization and recall, but I was unable to find any articles mentioning that.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65xr1qUdrFmID9n2RZ5m67ez7LDnUwXQUdyEWfdhfv3CPoQl6nWWfqnsd3fi8KuwnroQVRD_Dgb4ANe5i7x6Sh0X98M149NiwJZoNR69lcCLrGulwfpPMls7Jo30PiYSXDUPSeXesrdQv/s1600/michaelangelo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65xr1qUdrFmID9n2RZ5m67ez7LDnUwXQUdyEWfdhfv3CPoQl6nWWfqnsd3fi8KuwnroQVRD_Dgb4ANe5i7x6Sh0X98M149NiwJZoNR69lcCLrGulwfpPMls7Jo30PiYSXDUPSeXesrdQv/s1600/michaelangelo.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WTF was wrong with Michelangelo anyway?</td></tr>
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But the online lists of artists, or famous people in general, who had (or may have had) mental illness go on and on. <a href="http://mentalfloss.com/article/12500/11-historical-geniuses-and-their-possible-mental-disorders">A list of "historical geniuses" from Mental Floss</a> speculates as to whether Michelangelo had autism. Painters Paul Gauguin and Jackson Pollock are believed to have suffered from bipolar disorder according to a snippet on the <a href="http://www.discovery.com/tv-shows/curiosity/topics/mad-genius.htm">"Top 5 Mad Geniuses</a>" (interestingly, though, only one visual artist made that top five--Vincent Van Gogh; there was also John Nash, a mathematician; Sir Isaac Newton, a physicist; Edgar Allen Poe, a writer; and Ludwig van Beethoven, a composer). Content provider Brainz has a not-so-gently-titled list "<a href="http://brainz.org/10-great-painters-who-were-mentally-disturbed/">10 Great Painters Who Were Mentally Disturbed</a>" in which Michelangelo is suspected of having depressive tendencies or bipolar disorder, but not autism. Cracked.com featured a list titled <a href="http://www.cracked.com/article_16559_7-eccentric-geniuses-who-were-clearly-just-insane.html">"7 Eccentric Geniuses Who Were Clearly Just Insane"</a> and yep, Michelangelo made this list too . . . this time for ignoring personal hygiene and being unable to converse with people, so we're back to autism with him. If you have several hours to kill, you could google your brains out looking up more of these lists. Clearly there is a market for them, people are interested to know exactly what the fuck was wrong with Michelangelo, at least.<br />
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So, these lists frame the question one way: How many artists are (or were) mentally ill? What about approaching it from the other direction: How many of the mentally ill are artists?<br />
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I was able to speak with an old friend of mine who has spent the last 20 years working with troubled kids. The teens he sees are suffering from depression, anxiety, sometimes schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. While it still is anecdotal evidence, I wanted his take on the whole "creativity-mental illness" link. He told me, to my surprise, that he found these kids as a whole to be "not really a creative group." Out of the couple thousand or so young people he has worked with, he said he only remembered two that could draw pretty well. Two out of two thousand? Not exactly the kind of ratio that I'd expect after reading all those articles. I told him about all the stuff I'd been reading and asked, "so, in a group home for troubled youngsters, you don't exactly walk in and see half of them sitting in corners doodling?" He laughed. No, definitely not, he said. These kids have enough trouble doing typical life-skill things.</div>
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<h3>
Suicide Rates</h3>
Mental illness can lead to suicide, so I thought that looking into suicide rates listed by profession might be illuminating. Oddly enough, the few lists I surveyed online didn't even mention artists! Though lawyers, farm managers, dentists, and chiropractors (among others) were all listed in the Business Insider's <a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/most-suicidal-occupations-2011-10?op=1">19 Jobs Where You're Most Likely to Kill Yourself</a>, artists were nowhere mentioned. And these lists (there are many) looked more like typical trumped-up clickbait than serious data. The<a href="http://www.apa.org/monitor/jan01/suicide.aspx"> American Psychological Association takes a more reserved stance in a 2001 overview: </a>"Experts on suicide say that statistics on its relation to occupation are not clear. There is no national data set on occupation and suicide." The article quotes Ronald Maris, PhD, director of the Center for the Study of Suicide and Life-Threatening Behavior: "Occupation is not a major predictor of suicide and it does not explain much about why the person commits suicide." Though the APA goes on to say there were some larger studies in the last few years that have provided some thought-provoking questions. One 1997 study analyzed death certificates from 1980-1984 and did find statistically significant elevated rates for:<br />
* White male physicians.<br />
* Black male guards (supervisors, crossing guards, police, protective service)<br />
* White female painters, sculptors, craft-artists and artist printmakers.<br />
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So . . . we're in the top three! In fact, I, specifically, as a white female sculptor/craft-artist made it into the top three! Woooo! At least, in the early 1980s.<br />
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Much of this older data doesn't even mention soldiers, who, thanks to over a decade of conflict, are in the news more and more for elevated suicide risk. <a href="http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2014/03/03/suicide-army-rate-soldiers-institute-health/5983545/">USA Today reported just last month</a> that the Army suicide rate, which has historically been "far lower than the civilian figure, surpassed it in 2008 and kept climbing." Mental health issues have <a href="http://usatoday30.usatoday.com/news/military/story/2012-07-10/army-study-soldiers-suicides/56136192/1">risen 65%</a> in the military since 2000, and there are serious efforts underway to treat the depression and post-traumatic stress disorder that soldiers are returning home with.<br />
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<h3>
Environmental Factors</h3>
Soldiers at war have obvious environmental factors at work against their mental well-being. Yet caricature artists, I can easily state, do not face the occupational risks and trauma that soldiers at war have to deal with. People who earn their living by art have, historically, had problems with poverty, persecution, alienation, and stress, which are all associated with higher risks for mental illness.<br />
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Do we, specifically as <i>caricature artists,</i> deal with being poor? Yes, certainly that's true for most of us at some point or another. Do we have social or family alienation issues? Many do. (I once worked with a crew of artists who discovered, that out of all four of us, not a single one was on speaking terms with their father). Do we deal with jerks? Well, yes, sometimes daily. Do we deal with annoying customer-service issues, overbearing moms, and aggravating crowd-control issues? Yes, yes, and yes. But what we deal with is also dealt with by so many other service workers, from retail staff to mall photographers. And I find that, generally, these experiences temper us, make us stronger and better at dealing with people. I have witnessed it not just in myself but in other colleagues, who were awkward at first but became much better at dealing with people given the practice.<br />
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If you think hard enough about the environment versus the inborn tendencies, it becomes like the chicken and the egg. Do creative fields simply attract people who have neurological dispositions that are more prone to mental illness? Or does the job itself change you in ways that are detrimental to your sanity? What about artists who work hard to cultivate a quirky or eccentric persona just for the marketing advantages . . . anyone know the story of Salvador Dali showing up to his gallery show wearing a scuba suit? I cannot verify this online, but had heard that when questioned about why he was wearing such a thing, he said "because no one will forget it." Mad, or just a marketing genius?<br />
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Not everyone is a marketing genius--or a genius of any kind. And I'm just speculating at this point, based on personal interaction and meeting a LOT of artists over the years. How much of the depression, anxiety, narcissism, and so on, can be attributed to (for lack of a better, more clinical term) "unfulfilled dreams"? So many people get into the visual arts, just as they get into music, singing, sports, or writing the great American novel, with an underlying hope of "getting discovered" and becoming famous. It might be harder for artists to face their own mediocrity--for there is no age cap on success in this field. Once youth fades away, athletic hopefuls must put away their dreams of the NFL or Major League Baseball and readjust their career goals to coaching high school or college ball. Not many singers in their 50s believe they can be the next American Idol. But Grandma Moses didn't even start painting until she was in her 80s. I have worked with quite a few folks who honestly believed that artistic recognition, even fame, was always just around the corner, they just had to schlep caricatures until they could be "discovered" by someone. One old timer asked me to edit his autobiography, which he had been working on obsessively for decades. Guys (and gals) like this usually are overly dramatic when they get a caricature rejected by a customer, and they take it as a paper-cut to their soul rather than an everyday part of the business. (Well hopefully not <i>every day</i>, but you gotta take 'em when you get 'em and move on.)<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSLvQGILvEs78_ha5qpuYx-ln6u5UyL3FkV_CTc8JvRku_lQsrc_HjpzHl3CZhfbuchW3JeACkxl4wkgcThfML6rzkFqh9C6fT-6QYikaSYM6rqUlMXAI1BZ0QWKOt0Yenn7q90kCHbbo/s1600/banksy-quotes-all-artists-are-willing-to-suffer-for-their-work-but-why-are-so-few-prepared-to-learn-to-draw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSLvQGILvEs78_ha5qpuYx-ln6u5UyL3FkV_CTc8JvRku_lQsrc_HjpzHl3CZhfbuchW3JeACkxl4wkgcThfML6rzkFqh9C6fT-6QYikaSYM6rqUlMXAI1BZ0QWKOt0Yenn7q90kCHbbo/s1600/banksy-quotes-all-artists-are-willing-to-suffer-for-their-work-but-why-are-so-few-prepared-to-learn-to-draw.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><br />
Though I'm not sure I'd categorize that particular brand of artists as having mental illness. Maybe their mom told them one too many times that they were a brilliant artist, and they believed her. Maybe it's an ingrained sense of entitlement coupled with an inability to train their eye. Maybe they're just insufferable pricks who can draw passably well but "think they're the next funny picture messiah" (that's an exact quote from one of my old managers about a cocky young upstart who, oddly enough, went on to display quite a few of the problems that plague bipolar sufferers, including substance abuse and bouts of homelessness). Still, there's annoying and then there's mentally ill, and plenty of room between the two. If only there were a category for folks that aren't quite "crazy" themselves but drive people around them up a wall. Oh wait, there is . . .<br />
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<h3>
Personality Disorders</h3>
The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diagnostic_and_Statistical_Manual_of_Mental_Disorders">DSM</a>, which has gone through many revisions and attempts at grouping mental health issues under various models, currently lists clinical disorders under Axis 1 and personality disorders under Axis 2. While the things listed as Axis 1 include schizophrenia, bipolar, anorexia, depression, anxiety, and many others that are recognizable to the layperson as clinical issues, the Axis 2 disorders are a bit less overtly clinical: intellectual disabilities and a whole litany of personality disorders. A non-diagnostic shorthand way of thinking of personality disorders is the immediate classification of "Wow, that person is an ASSHOLE!" In my first clinical psychology class, the first day, the professor asked the class how many people wanted to work in the mental health industry, with patients. About half the class raised their hands. Then he said "You realize they're jerks, right? Just so you know, you won't like them. You'll be irritated and annoyed and really, really want to hate them. Be aware of that." Personality disorders seem like a clinical way of sorting out different types of jerks.<br />
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That friend of mine who works in the mental health profession admitted that he uses a few "red flag" shortcuts when identifying clients with personality disorders--a trick he said he got from his mother, who also spent decades in the field. One was rings: if a white, suburban woman came in and was wearing an overabundance of rings, it was a marker (not a clinical marker, more like an informal clue) that she might have a personality disorder. I remembered instantly my days caricaturing at Ocean City, Maryland, where a shiver ran up my spine whenever an overly-made-up woman with tons of rings and super long fingernails would sit down for a caricature: the rings were a marker for me, too, of a customer that would likely be a problem.<br />
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There are many types of personality disorders, which aren't a solidly differentiated scientific class; these disorders tend to blur into one another and are described more as models, sometimes vague and imprecise but still helpful to psychologists and psychiatrists. Rather than list all of them, I'm going to copy and paste <a href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/hide-and-seek/201205/the-10-personality-disorders">Dr. Neel Burton's description</a> of just the "cluster B" disorders, labelled as "erratic/dramatic" and comprising the antisocial, borderline, histrionic, and narcissistic. I am making a judgment call by doing so, as I think the "troubled" artists I have known, especially in the entry-level ranks of caricature recruits over the years, tend to group more under this umbrellas than the others.<br />
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<strong><a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/conditions/antisocial-personality-disorder" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Antisocial Personality Disorder">Antisocial personality disorder</a></strong></div>
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Until Schneider broadened the concept of personality disorder to include those who ‘suffer from their abnormality’, personality disorder was more or less synonymous with antisocial personality disorder. Antisocial personality disorder is far more common in men than in women, and is characterized by a callous unconcern for the feelings of others. The person disregards social rules and obligations, is irritable and aggressive, acts impulsively, lacks guilt, and fails to learn from experience. In many cases he has no difficulty finding relationships, and can even appear superficially charming (the so-called ‘charming psychopath’). However, his relationships are usually fiery, turbulent, and short-lived. People with antisocial personality disorder often have a criminal record or even a history of being in and out of prison.</div>
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<strong><a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/conditions/borderline-personality-disorder" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Borderline Personality Disorder">Borderline personality disorder</a></strong></div>
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In borderline personality disorder, the person essentially lacks a sense of self, and as a result experiences feelings of emptiness and fears of abandonment. There is a pattern of intense but unstable relationships, emotional instability, outbursts of anger and violence (especially in response to criticism), and <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/self-control" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Self-Control">impulsive</a> behaviour. <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/suicide" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Suicide">Suicidal</a> threats and acts of <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/self-harm" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Self-Harm">self-harm</a> are common, for which reason people with borderline personality disorder frequently come into contact with healthcare services. Borderline personality disorder was so-called because it was thought to lie on the ‘borderline’ between <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/neuroticism" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Neuroticism">neurotic </a>(anxiety) disorders and psychotic disorders such as schizophrenia and <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/conditions/bipolar-disorder" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Bipolar Disorder">bipolar</a> affective disorder. It has been suggested that borderline personality disorder often results from <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/child-development" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Child Development">childhood</a> sexual abuse, and that the reason why it is more common in women is because women are more likely to be victims of childhood sexual abuse. However, feminists have argued that borderline personality disorder merely appears to be more common in women, since women presenting with angry and promiscuous behaviour tend to be diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, whereas men presenting with identical behaviour tend to be diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder.</div>
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<strong><a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/conditions/histrionic-personality-disorder" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Histrionic Personality Disorder">Histrionic personality disorder</a></strong></div>
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People with histrionic personality disorder lack a sense of <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/self-esteem" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Self-Esteem">self-worth</a>, for which reason they depend on the attention and approval of others. They often seem to be dramatizing or ‘playing a part’ (‘histrionic’ derives from the Latin ‘histrionicus’, ‘pertaining to the actor’) in a bid to attract and manipulate attention. They may take great care of their physical appearance and behave in a manner that is overly charming or inappropriately seductive. As they crave excitement and act on impulse or suggestion, they may put themselves at great risk of having an accident or being exploited. Their dealings with other people often seem insincere or superficial, which can impact on their social and <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/relationships" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Relationships">romantic relationships</a>. This is especially distressing for them, because they are especially sensitive to criticism and rejection and react badly to loss or failure.</div>
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<strong>Narcissistic personality disorder</strong></div>
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Narcissistic personality disorder takes its name from the myth of Narcissus, a beautiful youth who fell in love with his own reflection. In narcissistic personality disorder the person has a grandiose sense of self-importance, a sense of entitlement, and a need to be admired. He or she is <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/jealousy" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Jealousy">envious</a> of others and expects them to be the same of him or her. He or she lacks <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/empathy" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Empathy ">empathy</a> and readily exploits others to achieve his or her <a class="pt-basics-link" href="http://www.psychologytoday.com/basics/motivation" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(153, 153, 153); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #333333; text-decoration: none;" title="Psychology Today looks at Motivation">goals</a>. To others he or she may seem self-absorbed, controlling, intolerant, selfish, and insensitive. If he or she feels slighted or ridiculed, he or she may be provoked into a fit of destructive anger and revenge-seeking. Such ‘narcissistic rage’ can have disastrous consequences for all those involved.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Are you a stock photo?</td></tr>
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Now, did anyone read through those and immediately think of coworkers--or even, of yourself? Don't feel guilty, it's a normal reaction when you read something like that. These are lists of <i>traits</i> . . . but it's not categorized as a disorder unless those traits are so overwhelmingly present, and exaggerated, that it impedes one's career, social life, family life, and well-beling. I mean, we all get satisfaction out of being admired: when you're the life of the party and everyone absolutely loves your drawings, it's hard not to bask in that. But unless that takes over to the point of pissing everyone off around you, all the time, then it's not a disorder.<br />
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<h3>
The Forer Effect: Hey, That Sounds Just Like Me!</h3>
<a href="http://www.paranormal-encyclopedia.com/f/forer-effect/">The Forer Effect</a>, which is said to be behind just about every horoscope ever written, is the tendency to interpret general statements as being accurate about oneself, even when they are not. It's also called the Barnum Effect (yes, named after the "sucker born every minute" fellow). It's amazing how natural it is to apply whatever you're reading to your own life. Back when I worked as an editor, I spent a few weeks on a book called <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Living-Bladder-Cancer-Hopkins-Health/dp/0801865190">The Guide to Living with Bladder Cancer</a>. I swear, never have I spent so many worried moments on the toilet. How many times have I peed today? Is my pee looking a little pink? I think my bladder feels funny, I should really get this checked out. Meantime one of my coworkers was working on a book about skin cancer and spent considerable time scrutinizing the freckles on her arm.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0vZ-v7AR9QbNx29ncRgVJWOvQxQF_ODdkPZdG9bMVrU87iyDRQ1WMY0G5Jvos714T3lBWXCdUFVC12NJfMmPVTnM43vSW60JAQwWUbxW8xkrOzV9qhYe-rGwWnSKKM6p8VkuLArXOSJr/s1600/fry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0vZ-v7AR9QbNx29ncRgVJWOvQxQF_ODdkPZdG9bMVrU87iyDRQ1WMY0G5Jvos714T3lBWXCdUFVC12NJfMmPVTnM43vSW60JAQwWUbxW8xkrOzV9qhYe-rGwWnSKKM6p8VkuLArXOSJr/s1600/fry.jpg" /></a>When I talked to a few of my caricature artist friends about their thoughts on this topic, they responded by pointing out that they <i>did</i> see hints of "mental illness" in their own dedication to the craft. Not in a pathological way but in the way they felt their brain worked. Like that example of being "a bit OCD" because you're capable of focusing really hard on a project and redoing something 85 times until it looks "just right." They had read an odd article here and there, and though they couldn't remember particulars, it all made sense. We're artists, we're a little "off."<br />
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After reading about all this, though, I think many of my friends (and I myself) are displaying the Forer Effect. Which doesn't mean we're gullible or self-aggrandizing. Just that we're human, and we like participatory narratives. It's how we think.<br />
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Regardless of whether or not I'm at a higher risk of mental illness because of my job, I gotta step back and look at my luck. I get to draw funny pictures of people, and I get paid to do it.<br />
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That's a career I'd have to be crazy to turn down.<br />
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CelestiaWardhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10022228559263490597noreply@blogger.com1