Cartoon Cavalcade

When I was a child, my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Howard, gave me a cartoon anthology compiled by Thomas Craven called Cartoon Cavalcade. I still have it today, though the spine has long since worn off due to my numerous perusings over the years. It covers cartooning by the decade, starting with the late 1800's through the 1940's. It's a great overview of many of the early comic strips, gag panels, and even a few Disney stills are included.

I can still feel that rush of excitement that I had as a child whenever I open the book. It was my first exposure to early masters like Charles Dana Gibson, Gluyas Williams, Rube Goldberg, and Charles Addams. The idea that there were grown-ups in the world getting paid to draw funny pictures was a thrilling idea for a fourth grader. And it's still an amazing concept to me today.

It's hard to measure the impact that book had on my development as a cartoonist, and I am so grateful my teacher had the insight to give it to me. I notice the book is available on Amazon today from various used booksellers. I could probably get a fresher copy, but it's kind of like a badge of honor to have my worn-spine version. It's a reminder of how dedicated I was to learn my craft.

Cartoon Maps

I do a lot of cartoon maps. As a child, I remember sitting in my pediatrician's waiting room seeing a huge cartoon map of Mother Goose Land on the wall. For a kid, it was an adventure to see how many nursery rhymes you could identify from the scenarios portrayed across the landscape.

Even today, I try to summon up that excitement when doing cartoon map projects for my clients, adding little mini dramas or fantasy elements to make them fun. The blog size can't do justice to the huge size of these maps, but here a few detail areas pulled out from the overall map above.







I'm getting requests these days from all over the world. One of the great things about the internet is how it has made the world your marketplace. I'm very grateful to be able to share with the world this type of fantasy and fun that I grew up with. To view this map in larger size on my website, as well as others, go to http://www.jptoonist.com/portfolio/MC.htm

We're Looking for People Who Like to Draw.

Those words filled me with excitement when I was a child. I saw the familiar ads featuring the likes of illustrators Norman Rockwell and Albert Dorne, and envisioned the thrill of taking lessons authored by them.


My parents were encouraging--still are--and so when I was in the 7th grade, they arranged for me to take the adult version (not the children's version, mind you!) of the Famous Artists Schools Cartooning Course. I was in for a treat for invaluable lessons on humor strips from Al Capp ("Li'l Abner"), adventure strip lessons from Milton Caniff ("Terry and the Pirates" and "Steve Canyon"), editorial cartooning from Rube Goldberg (our founding President of the National Cartoonists Society, and person for whom the Reuben Awards are named), and magazine gag panel lessons from Whitney Darrow, Jr., just to mention a few.


I learned so many things to help a budding cartoonist hone his skills and pursue a career with professionalism. About the same time, I also took a humor and gagwriting course via correspondence with Joseph Mahoney, a retired writer for Jackie Gleason and gagwriter for a host of magazine cartoonists.


Where would a young 7th grader in NC make such a NY connection? I had an insatiable desire to learn everything I could about cartooning. And, from multiple trips to my local library, scouring all trade journals on the field like Gag Re-Cap and Jack Markow's cartooning column in Writer's Digest, I found a few leads.


Eager to put my newly-learned skills to the test, I started submitting cartoons to The Saturday Evening Post, True, Esquire, Field and Stream, The New Yorker and waited with bated breath by the mailbox for all those checks to start rolling in. Of course, I amassed quite a collection of rejection slips instead, which were thrilling in themselves, as sometimes a kind cartoon editor would include a personal note of encouragement to go along with the form letter. And even the form letter said they hoped I would "consider them in the future." So, the door was still open!


But one of the first cartoon markets I approached before sending to the national publications was Carolina Country magazine. I sent a batch to them figuring I would have a better chance with a local market than hitting it big time with The New Yorker right off the bat! Alas, even my home state magazine sent the familiar, polite rejection slip.


Fast forward to the 1980's and 90's, after several years in journalistic illustration with Raleigh's News and Observer, I had finally gotten to the point where I was getting consistent calls for freelance work and left the paper to work from my home studio. Around 1994, I had a call from Carolina Country to do their cover for their corporate magazine. That cover, won me my first Best in Illustration award in the National Cartoonists Society's 50th Anniversary Reuben Awards.

cover for 1994 Carolina Country magazine

copyright, J.Pittman, 1994

It was a special victory for a kid who had persevered, despite being rejected by them and so many other publications years earlier.

Farewell to an Old Friend

illustration copyright J.Pittman, 2008

The headlines in newspapers across the country today record the passing of an old friend of mine, Jesse Helms. The Senator from NC was either loved or hated by his political colleagues--there was no in-between. But one thing everyone could say was you knew where he stood on issues, and he didn't waffle like so many today. His brand of unyielding conservatism might have been scary to some, and certainly if left unchecked might be just as scary as unchecked liberalism. But it was a welcome and needed balance in the atmosphere of the 70's where family values got shoved aside by the "me" generation.

But this is a tribute to a man who meant a lot to me in a very difficult time of my career. It was around 1994-95, and the illustration industry had taken a nosedive. A lot of my colleagues who could not hang on through the drought were forced into other lines of work. Through no fault of our own, the telephone just stopped ringing for months and months. I was coming to the end of my ability to weather the storm as well.

I happened to see Sen. Helms on an evening news broadcast one night. As Chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, he was being interviewed on an important world issue. I could see a faded newspaper cartoon framed in the background of his office. It was an old illustration of mine where I had drawn him in the familiar "American Gothic" pose from Grant Wood's famous painting. I figured if he cared enough to frame a yellowed newspaper clipping, I'd send him the autographed original with a personal note inscribed. Besides, if my career was going down the tubes, I might as well give away some art to someone who appreciated it.

One particular morning, a few days later, as I was trying to make some tough decisions, I had spent some time reflecting in my regular morning devotion period with an inspirational verse from Psalm 143:8-- "Cause me to hear Your lovingkindness in the morning, for in You do I trust; cause me to know the way in which I should walk, for I lift up my soul to You." Within an hour, my phone rang! Was God opening His hand and sending a client my way?

I answered the phone and heard a female secretary's voice, "Is this Mr. Pittman, the cartoonist?,"

"Yes it is," I responded, expecting a request for a quote on a project.

"Hold on please. Senator Helms would like to speak to you."

Now, I'm thinking, "Oh sure, somebody's about to play a prank on me."

Then comes this voice on the line which I had heard many times on television editorials when I was a child.

"Hello, Jack, this is Jesse... Jesse Helms."

I think it was because I was caught so off-guard that all protocol to correctly address one of the most powerful and influential politicians of the time went out the window. And I responded, "Jesse! How are you?"

"Very well, thank you," he replied. "What I'm calling about is the cartoon you sent me. I really want to thank you for your generosity as that was a favorite of mine."

I told him I had seen a copy of it behind him during a news conference and thought he would like to have the original.

He went on, "Not only am I going to enjoy it, but it is going to be included in the archives of the Jesse Helms Foundation after I retire, so it will be an historic document for others to see in years to come." Then he added, "I do appreciate your kindness, but what I especially appreciate is the note you added to it."

I had inscribed something to the effect of "In appreciation for your courageous stand to help preserve traditional family values and our American way of life. Best regards, Jack."

Then we talked a bit of how we both had enjoyed a background in newspaper journalism with the same publication, albeit in different generations, and the challenges that went along with the field. He proceeded to invite me to his office in Washington for lunch, "show me around," and said if there was anything he could ever do for me to let him know. Then he finished our conversation with a phrase I'm sure countless politicians utter, but given my Bible verse that morning, one which had special meaning to me, "God bless you, Jack."

After reflecting a few days, I was teaching an adult Bible study at my church and shared the episode with my class. "I had come to the conclusion," I told them, "that the phone call was the demonstration of the lovingkindness and encouragement from God that morning which Psalm 143:8 had communicated to me. Why, it was almost as if God Himself had tapped me on the shoulder and said, 'Don't worry. Everything's under control. I'm here and this is a reminder that I care.'"

To which one of my class members, an ardent critic of Sen. Helms replied, "I'm sure Jesse felt the same way!" Knowing his sense of humor toward his political enemies, I can't help but think he's having a laugh about that, too.

Postscript: Within a week of that call, my phone started ringing with more regularity again, I got what was at that time the largest assignment I'd ever received from a Park Avenue ad agency for Procter & Gamble, and also received what was to become the first of many Reuben Award nominations for Best in Advertising Illustration from the National Cartoonists Society.

Regardless of what many critics have to say against Jesse Helms for his political philosophy, he was used by God to offer the encouragement I needed that day, to persevere in my career, and trust I was going in the direction I needed to.

How does one make a dime from internet exposure?

In the analogy to the music industry, you give away CD's or free downloads of your music. Kids play them, they share with their friends, and then you develop a huge following. So when you have a concert, it's a sellout. Music is made in the concerts and tours now-- not via record sales like in the old days. And strangely enough, when you have the concert, the kids who downloaded your free music still buy your CD at the concert as an impulse buy because they want to hang onto the moment or get an autographed copy.

For illustration, in the old days you beat the path to the art directors, making regular rounds to show your portfolio. If your work was good, they'd spend some time with you, maybe not giving you an assignment right away. But you had established a link with them face-to-face, and the next time you wanted to show your portfolio it would be easier. So you did this over time, and each time you'd get to know them more personally, perhaps sharing a few anecdotes and/or taking them out for coffee or lunch.

After some consistency in this, you might even have done a personal favor for the art director, doing a caricature for a friend of his or for his office at a small fee. What really got you your first job with him was the fact that you'd made a personal bond. Not that your work wasn't good, but more commerce happens between businesses because of friendships than talent or a great product, even though those things are important, too. All you needed was the opportunity to prove yourself, that you could produce on time and on budget, and execute well. But that opportunity only came because, 1) the art director felt like he would enjoy working with you, 2) you gave him something that showed you genuinely cared about him, and 3) you did actually have a good style that was suited for his needs.

Today, with a talented wrist being a dime a dozen, and the demise of far more print outlets to buy your work, the competition is even more fierce and time is precious with the few markets having to compete ever harder to stay alive. And the print markets themselves are gravitating to the internet in droves where the audience is greater, because they know if they don't retain a large audience, advertisers will take their dollars elsewhere, where they know they'll be seen. So the old-fashioned, concrete path to the art director's door is now a virtual electronic highway. How do you, then, establish the rapport in a less-personal era? You do it by making an online portfolio, and by blogging, where you can communicate a little of the personal side of your approach to your work, your philosophy, and maybe even a few personal anecdotes. How, in all of the sea of creative talent, do you get noticed or attract a following? It's basically old-fashioned word-of-mouth, giving people a few things for free that they can download and enjoy, and share with others who say, "How cool! Where did you get that? It was FREE?" You may even offer some free tutorials on how you put together a project, showing the art director your artistic approach, building their confidence in you. You write on a well-known blog where people are accustomed to going, and tie it in to your website with links, offer ways for those who are interested to subscribe to daily or weekly feeds, letting them know when your blog has a new entry. What you also accomplish is displaying a portfolio of your creative thought processes, which is not so much an over-saturated commodity as a talented wrist. So your base of subscribers consists of people who have found something they enjoy in your work and personality, and have taken the time to subscribe with their email address, so they can continue getting free offers and tips from you that might make their work easier. And even for those out there who do not know who you are yet, they may do a Google search with terms related to a project they are developing. And if it's a topic you have blogged about, your entry comes up in their search! What if an art director wants to put together a project with that good old-fashioned Gillott pen look, and you have written a blog entry about your passion for Gillott nibs? Voila! There's a connection!

Sure people can lift your work from your online portfolio for free like PerezHilton did with my illustration yesterday, unless you watermark it or keep the resolution so poor they would have limited use of it. But the kids who do that would not be your clients anyway. They might want to put your art on a t-shirt, or a notebook cover, or on their dorm wall. But you have established a link with future prospective clients in the same way McDonald's does by putting playgrounds in their restaurants. What is vastly more important is having your work seen and stand out in an ocean of talent.

In my particular field of advertising clients, ad agencies are more likely to think of me if I'm a household name over whether I'm talented or not. So the more people who are aware of me the better. Also, the reputable companies who visit my online portfolio are aware my work is copyrighted and are generally honest in asking how much a reprint use of a hi-rez file would be. We also have stock art competing with our wares today. So, it's good to have your portfolio do double-duty as a stock art market. If you sell a widget to one million people for $10 each, you do much better than selling to 100 people at $1000 each.

I have tried to tailor a lot of my high-end illustration today to markets where stock art is not an option, due to the specific needs of the client. Consequently, the better paying assignments I get come from those clients. At the same time, it's nice to have re-use fees from the other assignments where the subject matter is more generic and which might find a place with a client who couldn't afford my services. That doesn't take anything away from my high-end assignments, because the lower budget clients are not competing in the same market. It's simply expanded my outlets.