A visit to Edward Sorel to deliver his Reuben Award sets Jason Chatfield thinking about how to cartoon.
Sorel is, without question, one of the most iconic satirical illustrators in America…
I was nervous to finally get an opportunity to meet him. My friend Karen Green, Curator for Comics and Cartoons at Columbia University, had teed up the meeting during which we got to hand Mr. Sorel his Reuben Award, the highest honor bestowed by his peers in the cartooning industry. He won towards the end of the pandemic years, and it wasn’t safe for him to travel.
The first meeting resulted in another where Mr. Sorel kindly reviewed Mr. Chatfield’s portfolio.
The next day, Sorel generously took the time to go through a large selection of my art: illustrations, gag cartoons, caricatures, comic strips— the works. I was very anxious to share it with him, but I knew the discomfort would be worth his feedback. It was generous of him to offer.
Once he’d sat with my garbage fire of a portfolio, he gave me the most valuable, candid feedback I’ve ever received as a cartoonist. It sunk into my subconscious and has lived there, rent-stabilized, ever since. I’m sharing it with you because I think it might be helpful for your own development…
Sorel’s appraisal of Chatfield’s portfloio caused Jason to reevaluate how to go on drawing after 20 years.
I decided to start carving out time in my calendar on weekends for just drawing with no end goal in mind— drawing for the sake of drawing. Experimenting. Seeing what fell out of my pen.
The Glory and Betrayal of the Hunt #101 Imperial Nib.
I’d tried every nib in the book before I discovered this obscene little bastard— and I have the late, great Richard Thompson to thank. It was designed for ornamental calligraphy, specifically copperplate or Spencerian calligraphy. But sweet Jesus, it’s fun to draw with.
I engrossed myself with creative play for days, weeks, and months on end with this nib, trying every different method. I experimented both with the angle of the surface I was drawing on and the pen itself. I found a posture that felt like ‘me’ and began free-scribbling, filling sketchbooks, and burying my studio in a sea of paper scraps…
Jason gifts the journey of finding his real cartooning self at his Process Journey Substack.
“Once he’d sat with my garbage fire of a portfolio, he gave me the most valuable, candid feedback I’ve ever received as a cartoonist.”
(question: the meaning of the “garbage fire” part of this article)
Call it self-doubt or a scorching case of impostor syndrome…