Well, That Happened

So on Tuesday, November 25th, everyone walked just a bit straighter  and carried themselves with a new-found dignity, a dignity they could  not have mustered a mere 24 hours before  Tiny children, barely human, settled down and behaved without urging. Stray cats & dogs and other lost souls wandered home, and everywhere the joyous sound of reunions could be heard, if you listened real hard and didn't let the racket from cash registers pushed beyond their capacity demand for my new book, THE ART OF RICHARD THOMPSON,  224 pages jam-packed with laffs and full color pictures for the low price of only $35.00!      


Let's look at the stats

Arlington Central Library Releases Details

Looking south along the auxiliary astrolabe repository

Arlington Central Library, that sober bulwark against the advance of illiteracy, that immovable redoubt of civilization, that last hope against the fidgety and loud, that shining beacon of all that we may aspire to has gladsome news of a celebratory nature concerning the goings-on of December  6th of this year. So be there or be square, Jake.

The Great Hall

NOT IN THE BOOK LXIvIV oh I lose track

Here again are several random images, drawn from the pool of images that were considered and discarded as somehow lacking in that certain something, that je ne sais quoi, that separates winners from under-achievers.

First up is this pair of under-achievers I did for Bono Mitchell-

Then, this non-performer for The Atlantic-

Finally, we ha-HEY! THIS ONE IS IN THE BOOK! SOMEBODY MADE A BOO-BOO!

 
We'll have to get back to you on this...

And Now for Something Completely Different

Here's a short documentary on, well, me by GVI.

J. Arthur Wood, Jr.,1927 - 2014

When you opened the front door of the spacious yet unassuming house in Rockville, Maryland the first thing you saw was Prince Valiant. A choice Sunday page, all sweeping vistas and heraldic detail. The fact that the house contained almost 40,000 original cartoons, the largest private collection of comic art in America, if not the world was too much for the mind, so great was the discrepancy between the blandly comfortable house and what it contained

I said, "when YOU opened the front door," but that wouldn't happen. Steeped as he was in Southern Manners, it was unthinkable for someone else to open a door, any door, when Art was around.  So there you'd stand, confronted with a man who looked like Hollywood's ideal of a Southern Senator living in this house with drawings. "Come out to the house," he'd say, to the amusement of Pat Oliphant who knew the house was really a shrine. "Come out to the house. We're having some of the troops out."  The troops were inevitably Big Names of Cartooning and stacks of  their Christmas cards could be found on the coffee table in season.

I met Art in the early 80s, courtesy of my high school friend Greg's mom. Doris Fronsdorff was a respected collector-and expert in children's books and she had a sharp eye, so when Art needed someone to authenticate some drawings by Kate Greenway, he called Doris. And Doris called me.

The  Greenways were fakes, but it didn't matter. At least to me. I was at loose ends, unsure of what to do next. Or first. But Art Wood's enthralling tales and fabulous collection turned my head. The old-school Southern charm got me. And he knew everybody! My favorite Art Wood story from among millions is from later, after I'd quit Cul de Sac. I said my new work would look like Cy Twombly if he used his sleeve. I soon got a note from Art that said he and Cy Twombly were old schoolmates who'd gone on sketching expeditions together. There are two names I wouldn't put in the same sentence and they are "Art Wood" and "Cy Twombly."

Whenever he visited my studio, Art would sit on the floor like a little kid and go through piles of originals. To his utter delight I'd say, "Keep what you want." I figured he'd take better care of anything I gave him than I would. I mean, a guy with not just an animation cel hung on his wall but a cel with all seven dwarves signed, "To Art from Walt Disney" is at least trustworthy, monomaniac though he be, right?

Art sold his collection for just under a million dollars (though technically it was priceless) to the Library of Congress, where he'd worked as a boy (he'd also attended Hearst school, a public school in northwest DC, like my brother and even went to kindergarten in the same room). They had a nice ceremony in one of the fancier rooms attended by many cartoonists and Woodses and a show drawn from the collection. Art was expansive.

The last time I saw him was just before he moved to Charlottesville. He and his wife, the ever-gracious Sallie, had pretty much emptied the house, so now it was what it appeared to be, a normal suburban house. All the custom-built drawers Art had installed were empty. It was strange.

We had lunch at his club, where the waiters were vaguely insulting yet the food was good. It called to mind all the lunches we'd had; at one of them, memorably, I met Pat Oliphant for the first time. I remember because it was at the Press Club and Bill Mitchell was there and we went bar-hopping and my car got towed and I missed a date at the Phillip's.

Sallie & Art at my show with Roman Genn, Susan Conway Gallery, 1996

photo courtesy of Bruce Guthrie, whom I met at a Smithsonian event hosted by Art 

But that was in 1987 (I could tell you the date because I asked Pat what he'd drawn - Nancy Reagan dropping a chandelier on Donald Regan). Art said he had something for me. I thought of one particular Krazy Kat I'd long admired. Heck, I'd told him I'd steal it.

He held out an old case. "I never could figure this out," he said. Inside was a complex optical device for transferring drawings. I never could figure it out either but it's handsome and mysterious.

J. Arthur Wood died on the fourth of November, in Charlottesville.
                                                                                                                                                        

GALA ANNOUNCEMENT WITH EARTH-SHAKING CONSEQUENCES!

THIS BLOG, IN ASSOCIATION WITH THE INDEPENDENT BOOKSTORE ONE MORE PAGE, IS PLEASED, HECK TICKLED PINK, TO ANNOUNCE A BOOK-SIGNING & LAUNCH PARTY FOR

THE ART OF

RICHARD THOMPSON

 WITH EXTRAS ON

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 6TH

2:30 PIP EMMA

AT THE

ARLINGTON CENTRAL LIBRARY

AUDITORIUM

1015 NORTH QUINCY STREET

THERE'LL BE A PANEL DISCUSSION, CELEBRITY APPEARANCES, SIGNED BOOKS, A WORLD PREMIERE OF A MAJOR VIDEO, CLOWNISH ANTICS AND FACE PAINTING! 

5 Favourite Things

I always thought it was a song cue from a musical by Rodgers and Hammerstein. But over at Comics & Cola Zainab Akhtar proves me wrong in this very nice review of theComplete Cul de Sac.

oh, who cares?

WHAT IS NEW AT 

THOMPSONANIA? 

NOT MUCH, OUR KID JUST GOT HIS WISDOM TEETH OUT,

THE OLD LADY WENT TO HER 30tTH HIGH SCHOOL REUNION,  I FOUND A $20 BILL IN THE PARKING LOT,  YOU KNOW, NOTHING  EARTH-SHAKING.

OH, YOU MEAN "WHAT NEW PRODUCTS HAVE YOU GOT?" I SEE, I SEE. WELL, WE GOT THESE, BUT THEY'RE NOT REALLY MOVING, IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. NOW, IF HE'D DRAW SOME PUPPIES OR KITTENS, THEY'D MOVE.

INSTEAD, WE GET ELEPHANTS.

THE HAPPY NEW YEAR CARD
Inside it says, "And many more."

THE PETEY CARD

Inside, it says, "It's going to be one of those days."

THE HEY,  JACKASS CARD
Inside, it says, "No, not you."
I'm quite proud of this card, and I'm posting it despite the fact that it does appear in the book and I could get in serious tr-

WHO SENDS GREETING CARDS NOWADAYS?
   THOMPSONIANA
WHAT TH-?

NOT IN THE BOOK, AND IT'S SO OBSCURE THAT I DON'T REMEMBER IT

Anita Finklestein has been busy, diligently digging up bits of Thompson lacuna as though it was worth something. Like this image, which,  as with her preceding find was a calendar illustration done for a printer who wanted to show what he could do. Here's what he could do-

WHAT'S NEW AT THOMPSONIANA?

WHAT'S NEW AT

THOMPSONIANA?

WE WERE HOPING NOBODY'D ASK, AFTER ALL OF THOSE RUMORS OF A COUP ATTEMPT BY DISGRUNTLED GREETING CARD WORKERS PROTESTING THEIR NEW 26-HOUR DAY, JUST ONE OF THE MANY ADVANCES WE'VE INSTITUTED.

THE PANHANDLER CARD

THE HUNGRY CONSUMER CARD

A TWO-FER

THE OLD WOMAN TOSSED UP IN A BASKET CARD 

A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN CARD

WHAT A FINE SELECTION OF GREETING CARDS!
AVAILABLE ONLY FROM
   THOMPSONIANA
"WHERE DREAMS ARE BORN."

SO NOT IN THE BOOK THAT MICHAEL RHODE DOESN'T KNOW IT EXISTS

How can it be? How can such a thing exist? My oeuvre is so widely documented that no image should roam free. But here, through the diligent spade-work of Anita Finklestein is The One That Got Away.                                                                                            

NOT IN THE BOOK IV

It's time once again to alienate all of my friends and show some more images that were deemed unworthy of inclusion in the Art of book but I have scans so I might as well post them.

First up is a perennial favorite from Why Things Are.

Next, let's see some spots I did for Bono Mitchell.

That's me!

Well, wasn't that fun? And how! Now you'll have to excuse me while I round up some new friends, but watch for NOT IN THE BOOK V; RISE OF THE OMINOUSITY, when I run out of things to feed this blog again.

the New Yorker Gets With It

Eustace Tilley, ,,Rea Irvin's inexplicable  Everyman, has turned his dandy's monocle on Alice and Petey  and- well, what do you expect? It was never  a fair fight.             

NOT IN THE BOOK III

Let's have some more random images, shall we? These posts are so easy to do it's criminal.  All I need is a  computer full of disjointed and disconnected drawings that nobody's seen since publication (and boy, do I have that).

 First up is something I did for Bono Mitchell when she wasn't looking. Like many of thus period, it's colored with colored pencil, alkyd and/or oil.

 Ah, here's the Man Himself, Joel Achenbach, from when he had a column in the Post Magazine. I'm happy enough with this caricature to post it; as I recall he kinda hated it. Watercolor.

This was for the New Yorker when Bill Bennet was news; where do these people go? And why don't they stay there?

Speaking of which...

The Best Comics of 2014, Now With More Self-Regard

Whoever's in charge, Mr. Houghton or Mr. Mifflin, over at that firm they got must be asleep at the wheel. Guess who made it into the newest edition, compiled by the redoubtable Scott McCloud and his faithful droog, Bill Kartalopoulos. I'm thankful to them both for bending the laws of space and time so that Alice can sit with the adults. And hey, read the rreviews!              

NOT IN THE BOOK II

Here are two more perfectly good drawings that didn't make it to happy hardback land. First, an airplane cut-away illustration from the Atlantic.

I always loved intricate cut-away drawings, especially of airplanes. Not doing them; looking at them. Doing them is boring beyond belief but looking at them- all those struts and rivets and everything in it's place- enthrall me. The  school library had a book filled with ligne claire drawings of airplanes, and I'd obsessively check it out (sixth through ninth grade) and try to mimic the art. Not for any reason or with an goal in mind, but just because I liked it. So when the Atlantic called with this job - a drawing of the largest passenger plane- I subconsciously returned to eighth grade.

One of the things I'll do when I'm the Guy in Charge of Caricature Studies is; I'll have everybody draw an imaginary character. That is, they'll have to invent an appropriate face for someone who doesn't exist. This cover for the U of C alumni magazine is about as close as I got. The red robes are painted with real vermilion, mercuric sulfide, just one of many Things You Didn't Need to Know.

NOT IN THE BOOK

I'm going to launch a  series called "NOT IN THE BOOK." This will use up drawings that are second-rate and it'll warn readers that they're missing out on something; in this case, some really second-rate drawings.

For the first one, I've selected this image; because it's the second in a series of 3 that reaches fruition  in the drawing used as a cover for The Art book, and because my friend Nick went bananas tearing up my studio looking for it, not knowing it was under the magical  protection of Caitlin McGurk.     

Early & Prehistoric Almanacs

Here, for the first time since their original publication 17 years ago, and posted mostly without comment because, really, who has the time? are some early proto-Almanacs. They're not even called Richard's Poor Almanac because language hadn't been invented.

The drawing's crude, the humor's rudimentary, you can't believe anybody got paid for doing this. And yet, there's something about them that makes you want to shout, "CALL THE DAMN THING RICHARD'S POOR ALMANAC SO WE CAN GET SOME SLEEP!"                  

BACK TO BUSINESS

WHAT IS NEWLY FOR SALE AT

THOMPSONIANA?

MANY THINGS!

WE HAVE CLEVERLY TURNED

THESE SKETCHES INTO

GREETING CARDS;

FOR EXAMPLE:

THE CUL DE SAC CARD

THE ART CARD

MOM'S VAN CARD

ALICE & THE 

REFRIGERATOR

CARD

THE OTHER

ART CARD

THESE ARE ALL REPURPOSED

DROP PANEL SKETCHES*

AND AS SUCH ARE

SPECIALLY PRICED

AT ONLY $2.95

THOMPSONIANA

DRAGGING US INTO THE 21ST CENTURY

KICKING & SCREAMING

Storytime

Here, one of the authors, Nick Galifianakis, reads the story of Art of  Richard Thompson to the present narrator, who looks dubious.

Photo by Bono Mitchell