Kenosha Diary, Day Three

While Friday had cartoonists carrying the comics-themed umbrellas from their swag bags, Saturday turned the corner and Kenosha showed off as the Kenosha Cartooning Festival drew crowds, not just of comics nerds, but of families to the harborside.

The blend of hardcore fans and "let's see what this is all about" visitors is exactly why more supporters of the medium should be replicating this in their own home towns. 

 

The day started with a kids' cartooning class coordinated by Mike Cope, with long tables covered with kraft paper to doodle on, but with each kid given a sketch pad and pencils, and Mark Anderson, Jan Eliot, Ed Steckley and Bill Morrison taking turns as instructors.

Steckley here demonstrates caricature, while Eliot gave anatomy tips on things like how to show faces looking different directions and how to handle that bane of cartoonists, the dreaded human hand, Anderson demonstrated basic cartooning styles,and Morrison repeated his classroom presentation on the geometry-of-Bart and showed the kids how to create a flip book as an introduction to animation.

Those not presenting were working the crowd, helping and advising kids as they worked, so that the kids not only got the lecture but mini-tutorials as well.

And, by the way, yesterday I said that the soft-spoken Bill Morrison commanded his audience of middleschoolers with a combination of a quiet tone you had to focus on to hear and an array of interesting material.

Here, as the genially silly Mark Anderson had them cracked up and was followed by the hilarious wiseassery of Ed Steckley, and the 10-year-olds in particular were bouncing like popcorn, I thought it kind of unfair to Bill that he was going to have to follow these guys.

I left the room for a bit, however, and when I came back, it was absolutely silent and all eyes were focused on Morrison.

I don't know how he does it, but teachers' colleges should bring him in to demonstrate his magic touch.

 

The individual presentations began at noon, with a big enough crowd for Mark Tatulli's opening session that they were forced to round up additional chairs from elsewhere in the Civil War Museum and even considered opening the wall into the adjoining room.

With two strips and a children's book series, Tatulli could have been all over the place trying to touch on each facet. Instead, he focused on Lio (which runs in the Kenosha News), demonstrating the process of developing the character, then cracking up the crowd with horror stories about the trials and tribulations of doing a strip that goes beyond the tried-and-true-and-comfy.

 

Part of the problem is lack of clarity from above.  He proposed this book title mostly as a joke he knew would get shot down, but, to his astonishment (and clear delight) it was green-lighted by the syndicate and then by the publisher and it was only at the last minute that someone ran it through the double-entendre filter and it became "There's a Monster in My Socks." 

He admitted he was also surprised when they approved a book cover that showed Lio and his pet squid, Ishmael, digging up the corpses of Calvin and Hobbes, and that one went into production.

 

However, his editors gave him one very clear piece of guidance: Cats may play with catnip, but they may not put it in bongs and smoke it, nor can they leave a stash of catnip and rolling papers under the bed.

In fact, there are many things Lio is not permitted to do and I could show them all here but it would go beyond fair use. If Mark Tatulli ever appears in your area, go there and let him demonstrate them. You should wear Depends.

 

And even the things that get into print can draw the ire of readers. Apparently, you may not give your friend the giant snake a puppy for his birthday, and the fact that the syndicate has (as demonstrated earlier) no problem with exhuming the dead does not mean that readers won't write letters objecting to it.

 

Though however much one might have anticipated that outcry, there was no way to foresee ... well, you are gonna have to click on this link for yourself.

(I think he was kidding, but I've had too many Close Encounters with the Outraged Public to rely on that theory entirely.)

 

And speaking of "Know Your Public," Ed Steckley presented next, and included this piece he did as a quick handout to sign for GIs on one of his USO tours for meet-and-greets where he wouldn't have time to do individual custom pieces for them each. 

He said he ran into one hard-bitten, gritty battle-worn front-line defender who was delighted to see his favorite TV show parodied.

You guessed it: The Smurfs.

 

Steckley is a dedicated slacker, or, to be more honest, a dedicated depicter of himself as a slacker, since it's unlikely he'd have gotten anywhere if he were the hapless gaper shown in his slide show of "A Day in the Life of a Freelance Advertising Illustrator."

Most of the humor relies on his delivery and the buildup as the piece progresses, so, again, if you hear he's in town, go.

But the hilarity of dealing with corporate creative (oxymoron alert!) people who bring you on board and then shower you with conflicting and ever-changing instructions certainly reminded me of why I'm glad I don't do that sort of thing anymore.

As ridiculous as his piece was, it was a hell of a lot truer to life than "Mad Men."

 

And here's something for you to watch for: Steckley is currently working on a children's book that depicts Rube Goldberg as a young child coming up with insanely elaborate ways of getting through a kid's day.

 

Jan Eliot mirrored Darrin Bell's format of a conversation with Tom Racine rather than a stand-up presentation, and went through the development of her career in general and of Stone Soup in particular.

Those who caught Tom's Tall Tales podcast or my 2003 interview with her will be familiar with the backstory of how she was a single mother trying to get by, and I did suggest to her this weekend that she mount a show of the pieces she did then that now hang in dentist's offices and automobile repair shops around Eugene, Oregon, as part of the game of "Barter for Basics."

 

It's easy to make light of it today, but hers is a story of grit, including a time when, after coming up with the idea of turning her cartooning hobby into a job, she and a friend decided to meet weekly for a debriefing of "What have you accomplished?"

 

It forced her to focus and she created a strip called "Patience and Sarah," about a single mother and daughter, that ran once a week in a local paper -- once a week because she couldn't produced seven strips and hold down a job, and this was only paying $10 a pop.

 

But it lead to Sister City, which she managed to place in a handful of papers, and then -- through some persistence and pestering -- to syndication.

 

Not without a few bumps on the road -- starting with the idea that, since the comics world already held Lynn Johnston and Cathy Guisewhite, the "woman cartoonist" ticket had already been punched  -- which she was by then too stubborn to let derail her.

One simple thing she gave in to was changing the name, since "they" said "Sister City" had tested as too strident.

But the old men in expensive suits got nowhere suggesting that she give Val a boyfriend because the story of a divorced single mom would be too depressing.

And so Stone Soup was launched.

And here's a free insight that occurred to me during her presentation: As she was describing her intent not to let either Wally or Phil be the stereotypical guy-who-doesn't-get-it, I started sorting through her cast and realized it doesn't contain an antagonist.

That is, there are times the characters have conflicts, but they don't have the nosy neighbor or the Ted Baxter doofus or the Archie Bunker jackass. And the most interesting part of that is how long I have read and loved the strip without noticing. 

But now that I've spotted it, I won't be able to un-notice it.

 

Bill Morrison closed out the formal events of the festival, and his lead anecdote was one he had also used with the middleschool kids earlier in the week: This early picture of his family and how it taught him about the function -- and authority -- of "art directors."

The lineup of his family is remarkable because the only person actually doing anything is his mother, who was originally smiling and washing dishes. She informed the young cartoonist that people do not smile while they wash dishes and directed a change in his art.

Bill went on to tell some insider stories -- again, hey, you gotta go hear him speak for yourself, because this blog entry is already double-length -- and to show developmental sequences for Futurama characters and various pieces he had done or directed for Bongo Comics.

 

For instance, "Treehouse of Horrors" is an annual title that features guest artists and writers, but one of their regulars wanted to do a heavy metal story for it. Reminded that it was only for guests, he asked "What if I get Gene Simmons to write it?" and got the routine, "Yeah, sure. You go get Gene Simmons."

Which he promptly did. And then they rounded up the rest, including Pat Boone who had just released his own heavy metal album.

 

And this Avengers-themed comic -- here shown in its German incarnation -- flipped that format, with the Bongo folks guesting in Marvel -- started with an approach from them which Morrison assumed Groening would not want to do, and we all know what happens when you assume.

 

At that point, the formal events ended and the cartoonists (with one ringer from last year's festival) repaired to a pizza place for a drink-and-draw encounter.

 

There was free pizza and sodas for all, a cash bar, and a chance to sit, mingle, schmooze and get autographs and artwork. Here, for example, regional cartoonist Parnell Nelson and his quite talented artist grandson find themselves flanked by Jan Eliot and Mark Tatulli.

 

Meanwhile, Bill Morrison was out on the sidewalk taking requests until it was too dark to draw.

 

At which point, the entourage headed for Chez Hambrock for a final round of congeniality before wrapping up 2015.

They'll be back. Start making your own plans.

Pardon the typos -- gotta catch a plane.

 

Comments

[Brian Fies]

Thanks for all your reports, Mike. Next best thing to being there, although a very sorry second. Kenosha looks like it's everything a cartooning event ought to be but usually isn't.

[Mary in Ohio]

Well, just an aside to Jan Eliot's "Patience" - I've had several "dinghy" (as it's pronounced) relationships.