Spatterings

OPEN FOR BUSINESS

You know, nothing gets you out of the habit of posting to your blog more than overwhelming amounts of work. But I think it's worth mentioning that Seltzer Studio Graphics is officially my sole source of income these days. As of February, I am officially self-employed. My goal is within a year to start employing others, but at the moment I'm enjoying going solo (with occasional help from some talented freelancers).

Currently I am

1. Designing an electronic magazine for KPMG
2. Working on all the collateral material for a Private Capital conference, including print ads, web ads, brochures, posters, etc.
3. Creating some new promo illustrations for the upcoming ADC show
4. Finishing my taxes

Next week, I'll

1. Finish the magazine dummy, and proceed to actual layout
2. Start on a new M&A themed conference
3. Pay my taxes (alas)
4. Start on some new design promos as well
5. Begin a new poster project

So far, I've been so overwhelmed that I've gotten slack about self-promotion. I was planning on sending emails, writing letters, sending out brochures, etc., but I've postponed that in favor of sleep, which I'd postponed for the year previous.

But no more. I'm putting up a sign in the window today. I expect hosannas all around.

-Tom

Good heavens, how long has it been?

Well, let's see. Where to begin?

I think the last entry on this blog was made right before I quit my last job. In addition to my freelancing, I was holding down a day job on the art staff of The Deal, a business weekly. The Deal was, in most ways, a nice place to work, with a great bunch of people, but the money was ... uninspiring, and I also had no possibility for advancement. I was trying to figure out my next move when I received an invitation to art direct at another company, which will for the time being rename nameless. In the meantime, I was asked by The Deal to do their conference marketing materials, an interim job that has lasted about six months now and will (he writes with fingers crossed (no mean feat)) go on indefinitely. I really enjoy that work, although it consumed my waking hours to the point where I actually did not have time to draw -- not illustrate, draw -- for several months. Things have gotten better lately, but not that much.

Just recently, while still essentially working two jobs, I took a week of (ha ha!) vacation to attend Milton Glaser's workshop at SVA. Milton Glaser, if you don't know, is a legend in the design industry, a phrase that for once can be used entirely without irony or hyperbole. I can't describe much about the experience -- suffice it to say that it's like no other design workshop on earth -- but it was inspiring, to use a word that I usually can't say without wincing. Milton is, among other things, a mensch, and it was amazing to work with a person who, while remaining remarkably down to earth, uncompromisingly strives for greatness. I learned two big things that week: First, that I am capable of extraordinary work, and second, that I will never do it at the job I am at now. The time has come to stop fooling around and to set up my own full-time studio.

The first step to doing this is to resume doing illustration, so expect to see a lot more frequent updates on this site, of what I think will be surer material. The next step is to find a partner. I want a collaborator. The final step will be to actually set up a business. I've seen forty-year old freelancers, and the picture isn't pretty. I don't want that. I want an office, a business plan, and an accountant who keeps lauding me for surpassing expectations. This won't happen tomorrow, but it's going to happen. And soon.

OK, more later. Now, to bed.

-T

Making up for Lost Time...

The website that The Studio had to finish is all done but the shouting, so I've been able to draw again. I've knocked out three more R&B greats, in sketch form, which I'll post over the next several days. Expect finishes soon.

First off, Aretha...

Hack, Cough, Whine, whimper, grimace...

Sick since Sunday. No new illustrations, sorry. Midway through a helluva nice webiste, though. More tomorrow.

Later,
T

OK, Otis on Monday

So, like I said, this Otis Redding picture has given me trouble.

First off, for whatever reason, I find it infinitely harder to draw a badly conceived image than to render a well-conceived image, no matter how detail-laden. If it's a bad idea to start with, I'll struggle with each and every line. My brain, never my favorite organ, sabotages my drawing hand. And I've been having trouble with this picture.

Why? Well here goes...

1) Otis's biggest hit was "(Sitting on the) Dock of the Bay." I thought a picture of Otis sitting on the dock of the bay might look nice. Sketched that, started inking it, realized "My God, this is boring." James Brown towers over buildings, Otis sits on a dock? Hardly seems fair.

2) So I thought I'd try drawing his triumph at Monterrey. Otis, electrified audience, angular composition. Got it. Draw. And it worked, sort of. Except that there were really two special things about that moment. To wit:

a) Otis showed up Jimi Hendrix, or so the legend goes. If they ever confronted each other over this, it might have made a nice image, but as far as I can tell, they didn't. That Otis topped Hendrix is really just a rock critic myth, so who knows if the people who were there even saw it that way. So there's no picture there.

b) Otis triumphed in front of a mostly white audience. He crossed over. But again, so what? Crossing over is a commercial triumph, not an artistic one. He'd already recorded "Try a Little Tenderness." He'd already sung "Shake." He would have still been a legendary song-writer because of "Respect." Bowling over all those hippies meant was that he might now be able to sell more albums. Good for him, of course, and as a white person, I'm glad that he became famous enough for me to know about him. But I can't imagine that Otis Redding would like to think that his greatest achievement in life was finally pleasing white people.

So now I'm on another image, a picture of Otis singing in front of a large (but racially undifferentiated) crowd. Coming along so far, but we'll see how it goes. Hopefully, Monday, but The Studio has a website to finish up.

-T

Tomorrow, Otis?

Well, the James Brown piece is a hit, based on responses. (Remember, you want an over-sized postcard, send me an email. It is also available as a poster, if you're interested. ) Next up, my second-favorite R&B singer, Otis Redding.

Otis, unfortunately, doesn't have nearly as iconic an appearance as JB. He didn't live that long, alas, (like Buddy Holly, he died in a plane crash) and he didn't have a huge processed pompadour and flash clothes. He was a big stocky guy, not ugly, not a matinee idol. It's really harder to come up with a terrific image that encapsulates him. His most famous public appearance was at the Monterey Pop festival, in which he apparently topped Jimi Hendrix. (More on that tomorrow, probably.)

So we'll see how this goes. Damnit, the man wrote "(Sitting on the) Dock of the Bay" and "Respect." He deserves a poster.

More from PART-TIME DOG

Another quick post today. This picture comes a little bit further than midway through the always in all-caps PART-TIME DOG. (Don't get your hopes up, though -- I am not working sequentially.) The caption reads "You know, with a little effort, I might be able to sniff my own butt."

Trust me, in context, it's hilarious.

-T

A breather, sort of

No new illustration to post today; maybe tomorrow I'll put up some more PART-TIME DOG stuff. There's some in the bank, but the images have to be proofed and type-set.

The Studio is in the mid-frenzy, creating flyers and brochures and emails for a wireless conference to take place in Italy this spring. I'll post some of the goodies here (violating my own rule about limiting this blog to illustration) over the next couple of days. In the meantime, back to the hated HTML...

One more unrelated thing: my three-year old daughter's been sick, and it may be walking pneumonia, the poor thing. She had to have a blood test today. We'll know more soon.

-Seltz

The Hardest Working Man in Show Biz

Not me, of course; I'm referring to Mr. Dynamite (left).

Odd thing about James Brown: the man was entirely without irony. There was absolutely no put-on in his persona, no sense of distance from the out-sized personality he created for himself. The only other guy I can think of whose ego was on such constant display was Mohamed Ali, and he was (is) always very conscious of the image he was projecting. He'd crack himself up occasionally. Not James Brown. He meant every word he sang.

His lyrics are the perfect evidence for this. R&B lyrics can be pretty sharp. Motown, for instance, always claimed that its ability to create songs that told a story was the root of its success. Think of Smokey Robinson, whose "Tracks of My Tears" or "Tears of a Clown" told whole young reader novels in 2 minutes thirty seconds. (The Beatles learned a hell of a lot from Smokey.) Ray Charles sang songs with sly innuendos, Al Green pitched a few double entendres, Sly Stone veered into social commentary, but James Brown stuck to his guns: "I feel good/ Like I knew that I would." What did that mean? It meant he felt good. And he knew that he would.

Part of the reason he could pull that off was because for James Brown, unlike Smokey, or The Beatles, or anybody else in the world really, the lyrics were as much percussion as melody. The song doesn't go "I feel good/Like I knew that I would." It really goes "I feel GOOD (da da da da da da DA) Like I knew that I WOULD (da da da da da da DUM)." And that percussive sense, together with the squeaks and squeals that made up the rest of his famous vocal style, was enough that you never had to listen to the words; you could just feel them.

That meant that JB could sing with total conviction about the most idiotic things and not ever trip himself up in a joke. No one in the free world but James could sing "Hot Pants" or "Sex Machine" without getting at least a couple of giggles. (Eddie Murphy owes the best part of his early career to that fact.)  In fact, the only other guy I can think of off hand who writes music as funky, George Clinton of Parliament, scribes lyrics that are ceaselessly  sci-fi in-jokey world-view, filled with Chocolate City and Mr. Nose and the Mothership and all that. Even when Clinton just wanted to sing about chasing tail, he was an "Atomic Dog," not just a dog.

In any case, RIP James Brown, a true American inventor, a complete one-of-a-kind, a born innovator. This image is going to be, I think, my next postcard, but it will also be  available poster sized for a price yet to be determined. Any inquiries can be posted in the comment section.   

Friday sketch blogging – James Brown

In one of the great ironies of the new millennium, the passing of The Hardest-Working Man in Show Business was overshadowed by the passing of Gerald Ford, The Slowest-Walking Man in Politics.

James Brown begot soul, funk and the foundations for a hell of a lot of hip-hop. Ford begot the career of Chevy Chase. JB sang "Please Please Please" "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag," "Papa Don't Take No Mess," and "I Feel Good." Ford pardoned Nixon. This is apparently worth celebrating because it spared this nation the horrible pain that would have resulted from an actual trial. I'm not sure that the burning lungs that accompany prolonged cackling qualify as "horrible pain," but then I'm not in charge of closing the stock market, or I would have had in done in honor of Soul Brother No. 1.

So here's JB, in a study for a poster I'm planning to do this week, in honor of His Badness.