CSotD: Move over, Karnak!
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Despite the lag between deadline and publishing date, both Mark Tatulli of "Heart of the City" and Wiley Miller of "Non Sequitur" managed to make stunningly spot-on predictions about the Reubens, which were held last night in Boston.
This is kind of inside-baseball humor, but, in both cases, they kept it generic enough for a mainstream audience to get, and self-deprecating enough to escape the stink of self-promotion.
And comics could use a little promotion. Readers — and newspaper editors — often see them as something that just happens, rather than small, individual pieces of individual art and writing that somebody sat up late at night fretting over.
As a former reporter, I'm in awe of good cartoonists. In reporting, there was creativity in the occasional enterprise story connecting a national business trend with something mundane happening at a local shop, or in hearing a politician say something about a new policy initiative and remembering that, three years ago, he had voiced quite the opposite belief. And it was always exciting to get an inside tip on a story that nobody else was going to have.
But, eighty-five percent of the time, the stories write themselves. A building burns down and you write about what and where it was, a little of the history if it had any, what fire departments responded, the cause if they know it. You get a quote from one of the owners or a neighbor. You take a picture of a haggard firefighter or of concerned on-lookers or of towering flames.
You write the story, you punch the clock, you go home.
It's not a matter of being lazy; it's the difference between craftsmanship and artistry. A good carpenter should be proud of the work he's done, even on a tract home, and he should make sure the trim lines up and that he doesn't leave little semi-circles of hammer marks around the nail heads. If you find yourself lacking the motivation to do a skilled job right, you need to find another job.
But artistry is something different, and — whether you do it with Pulitzers or Oscars or Reubens — it's worth recognizing those who step above the norm, who, in this case, do more than draw cartoons about women denting car fenders, teens with saggy pants and cops eating donuts.
I'm not a huge believer in plaques. Not every award in any field truly recognizes artistry.
For example, how often does "Best Picture" go, not to the finest film of the year, but to the movie that, between actors and special effects people and extras and makeup people and costumers, employed the most members of the Academy? (I'm looking at you, "Braveheart.")
And even Pulitzers often go to hot-trend features or to breaking news that, while astonishing, could have been covered by a cocker spaniel who happened to be standing there when it happened.
Still, the fact that there are awards is a reminder that somebody makes these things, that they don't just appear, and that some of them are more worthy of praise than others.
The big award last night, the one that actually is called "The Reuben," (the others simply being National Cartoonist Society awards) was Cartoonist of the Year and went to Richard Thompson of "Cul de Sac," a comic strip I have to remind myself not to feature here too often. It was well deserved.
Other newspaper awards went to:
Best Comic Strip: "Dustin," by Jeff Parker and Steve Kelley
Best Comic Panel: "The Flying McCoys" by Glenn McCoy
Best Editorial Cartoon: Gary Varvel
You can find the other NCS Awards, which are less newspaper-oriented and more aimed at comic books and illustration, here at the Comics Reporter. If nothing else, you should go there to see the really cool Cul de Sac illustration which, if I weren't tortured with ethical purity, I'd have stolen.
And which I may steal for future use. I guess I'm really more "inhibited" than actually "tortured."
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