How to Be a Rookie

The 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.

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).

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.

1. Be Nice.

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.

2. Be Humble. 

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 actually 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 see where you could use improvement. That's the ticket right there.

3. Be Observant.

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.

4. Be Grateful.

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.

5. Be Open to Learning--from Everyone.

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.

6. Be Trustworthy.

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."

7. Be Resilient. 

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. 

8. Be Brave.

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. 

Good luck!

Tribbles and Klingons and Borg, OH MY!

Andorians make the best
drinking buddies.

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.

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 poured 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.

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.

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 Lar deSouza's epic Sailor Bacon costume, but what could?

I and fellow artists JW and Jay weren't excited at ALL
to work at the Star Trek experience. Nope, this was just a
ho-hum day at the booth. Yawn. 

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 met the Gorn. 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!

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.

Yes, I engaged in Ferengi foreplay in public. I do what I WANT!

Alas, the awesome Star Trek Experience closed up 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.

And I'll be there, drawing!!!! SQUEEEEEEE!!!!!! 

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! 

But aaaaah, Star Trek. 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, Creation Entertainment, 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--and I told him why. 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.  

See? Trekkies and wookies CAN get along.

Sci-fi people are good people, in my experience. 

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. 

If you're going, let me know! I'll squeeeeeeeee you there! 

Selling Lies

I 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.

"Now hold on, Brittany, let's get you
ready for your caricature drawing . . . "

If anyone's seen Johnny Knoxville's recent movie Bad Grandpa, 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.

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?

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.

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!"

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 does seem 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 trying 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.

On the drive home I mentally listed out the problems I had with this customer-is-always-right approach:

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.

"Can you fix my hair, like make it longer,  and can you add makeup? And
make my nose smaller than it is, and I don't want to show you my teeth
because they're all janked up, can you just make up a better smile?
I totally hate my brown eyes, can you make them blue? And add
eyelashes and fix my brows. And no double-chin. OMIGOD I LOVE
IT! But dang, why it don't look like me?"

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.

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.

4. Because I've done 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 immediately tells you how to do your job. 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.

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?

At the first ISCA convention I ever attended, I remember Tom "Huf" Hofsteadt saying one thing over and over again during his caricature seminar: "If it has no likeness, it has no value." If ever there was a retail caricature mantra, I'd vote for that one right there.

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?

YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH . . . ABOUT YOUR FACE!!!!!

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 urban legend 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.

Is the caricature booth one of those places? Should it be?

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!"

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.

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 thought they were getting what they wanted, so when they saw the end result they liked it. I guess he was lying--just not in the way the customer was asking him to.

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.

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 drawings that aren't supposed to look like you. 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 Toddlers & Tiaras 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.