Tortoises in Ra-Ra Skirts. Who Could Ask For More?

I shall have to readily admit that this particular cartoon is obscure to the point of opacity. So what's going on? Why have I drawn a row of tortoises wearing fishnet stockings and dancing the Can-can? Allow me to explain.
This is part of a project that I set myself in the hopes that I would get it published in a rather niche publication. The rather niche publication was very nice about my efforts, but decided against using my material. Fair enough. So, what is actually going on here? The composer Camille Saint-Saens (you shall just have to accept that the umlaut is a given, because I refuse to go fossicking about this computer looking for one) created a piece ostensibly for children called The Carnival of Animals (Le Carnaval des Animaux, for our more edumacated readers). Apparently it is full of musical jokes, one being the fact that he has set one piece, called Tortoises (Tortues - look, do your own translations!) to the tune of Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld but   slowed   it   right   down.
All I did was show the tortoises reaction.
I have more of these and they all need a lengthy explanation. I bet you can't wait, can you?

Well, I Thought it Was Funny.

I sent this double-over-with-laughter cartoon to Private Eye, thinking that this one would surely to goodness get published by that esteemed organ. Alas, no, it was not to be. I suppose that with the easing of lockdown measures it is losing its topicality, although it has to be said, it is not the most technically proficient drawing I have ever done. To be honest I panicked a little, thinking that surely somebody else will have thought of this, and so I drew as hurriedly as I could and whizzed it of to Mr. Hislop. 

Well, what does he know about bloody funny cartoons? Nuffink, I tell you. Ner uff fink.

Dominic Cummings as Gollum

The political cartoonist Martin Rowson put out a general invite on Twitter to draw Dominic Cummings. I have done as requested. Now, I have to confess that I am not totally au fait with the way Twitter works, so I thought I had better reproduce it here in case it is lost for all eternity.

Carry on. 

My Most Profuse Apologies to Disney and Universal

Well now, what have we here? This is my entry for this week's Cartoonists' Club Caption Competition. Sorry, allow me to re-phrase that. This is my LOSING entry for this week's caption competition. Not one single point. Nuffink. It was awarded a CJP. CJP stands for Crackerjack Pencil, a consolation prize for child contestants in a British children's television show who had actually won the square root of bugger all. Well, that's me, that is. 

Am I bitter? Am I inconsolable? Has the world become a dreary grey for me? Of course not. It is all a part of life's warp and weft (this is said whilst rhythmically thumping the table with my forehead).

I have to admit that the cartoon is a little - well, odd. It is a strange conflation of the usual Universal film monsters obsession and Walt Disney characters. Universal's Frankenstein was released in 1931 in America (although not until a year later in Great Britain. Don't know why), Snow White was released in 1937, so already there is a little bit of anachronistic license being taken here. Doctor Disney's Monster is an amalgam of Mickey and Minnie Mouse, Goofy and Donald Duck. All in all this gag cartoon shouldn't really work and lo and behold, it doesn't! Whoda thunk it, eh?

Happy New Year.

In celebration of the Beeb's rather spiffing Dracula, I thought I would re-post this effort from Inktober.
Happy New Year.

A Little Bit of Very Minor Catching Up.

Here we are on the 24th of October 2019 and I am presenting before you days seven and eight of Inktober. I have completed one other inking and several other pencils, but none of them are ready for public viewing yet. They ARE on their way, honest Guv! It's just that some of my ideas are out of sequence and I want to upload them in proper chronological order. A couple of them are also quite ambitious and will take time to get right. So, if I carry on drawing Inktober 2019 pictures into November, is it really going to matter? I do not think so. Just doing it when I get the time is fine with me. No guilt, no shame, just enjoyment

A Cold Day in Hell.

Freeze a  jolly good fellow, Freeze a jolly good fellow, Freeze a jolly good fellow and so say all of us.

Look, if puns were good enough for Shakespeare, then who am I to argue against their use?

Here we are on day ten of Inktober and I have just completed days four, five and six. Why am I so late? It is because I spent an extraordinary amount of time on the scribble above (day four and "Freeze" was the prompt word). Far too much time actually, but I am pleased with the result. I experimented with two different pen nibs. One is a Gillot for very fine lines and the other is, um, not. The not Gillot is a heavier line, but I like them both.

You ought to be able to see days five and six below, but with Blogger who can say?

Inktober catchup

This, as I write, is day six of Inktober 2019 and I have completed three  ink drawings and the pencils for a fourth. So, I'm three days behind already. This year I am determined to beat last year's effort of four drawings. Fingers crossed.

The Moon is NOT a Balloon, Niven, You Div.

This is a post about the Apollo Eleven Moon Landing and my small, but significant connection to it.
Okay, cards on the table. I do not now, or at any time up to this point, have ever considered the actor David Niven to be a div. I thought it would be a thigh-slappingly hilarious heading for this post as it alludes directly to the title of his first book of memoirs The Moon's a Balloon. I bought my Coronet paperback copy in the mid-seventies and I have it still - along with the follow up,
Bring On the Empty Horses. The title is a quote from an e e cummings poem (my copy styles the poet as E. E. Cummings which is only right and proper, so well done Coronet). I just thought it would be funny to rail against a poetic metaphor. How wrong I was!
 When the late Barry Norman (I removed a plaster cast from his wife's leg, you know. Diana Norman, author and all round nice human being) was collecting material for his book, The Hollywood Greats, he could not find anybody to say a bad word against David Niven, which is probably a good mark by which to measure the man.
Why all this pre-amble? The Best Wife on the Planet thought the title of this piece was unkind to the actor, so it was beholden on me to set matters straight.
Blimey! It was only a joke!
Now then, my connection to the first Moon Landing. Both my parents were Dubliners and my dad was an engineer. He worked for English Electric in Luton before we all upped sticks and moved to Stevenage when English Electric became part of the British Aircraft Corporation. As a little boy I had absolutely no interest in engineering, despite being bought what must have been, a rathe expensive Meccano kit.
Enny whey. My parents split up in the mid-sixties and my dad went to work as an engineer in the New World. Canada, initially and ending up in California. In the very early seventies (I think 1970 or 1971) he came back to see me in Stevenage. This did not go down well with my mother, but she allowed him to take me to the London Planetarium and Madame Tussauds, next door. There was a life-size replica of the Lunar Module (the LM or LEM. Not Len, pay attention.) and my dad pointed out that one of the details on the leg was wrong. How did he know? Because, he had worked on it! I don't know in what capacity he worked on the first craft to land on the moon, but he wouldn't have just been a nut and bolt tightener. All I know is that he worked in the Tool Engineering Department of a NASA sub-contracted company.
Four months after the first men walked on the moon, my dad received a commemorative medallion to mark the event that took place fifty years ago today and I present the evidence below, m'lud.

An Addendum to Starless.

When the best wife on the planet bought two tickets to see King Crimson celebrating their 50th anniversary at the Royal Albert Hall, I was a little worried that said best wife would have a miserable evening. The best wife on the planet has never been a great lover of King Crimson and if she happened upon me listening to Mr. Fripp and co. would politely request that we listen to something else. It has to be said that King Crimson have never been purveyors of easy-listening (Just Easy Money - ha ha!) and so I have always complied with the best wife's wishes, turned off the music and slammed every door in the house (paradoxically, the best wife on the planet is married to the worst husband on the planet).

As I stated in the previous post, In The Court of the Crimson King was released in October 1969. I was introduced to King Crimson by a late schoolfriend, George Russell (still sorely missed) and I bought my copy of their first album on 19th August 1974. So, as you can see I came late to the party. By the time I had made my purchase, they had already released Larks' Tongue in Aspic and in October 1974 would release Red, their last studio album, or so I thought. With a somewhat heavy heart, my last King Crimson album was U.S.A. and it actually had R.I.P. on the sleeve.

To cut a long story short a new King Crimson arose in the early eighties and I hadn't heard any of these new recordings. Prior to the Albert Hall gig of 20th June 2019, I thought that I had better listen to some of this new-fangled music and picked out a few unfamiliar pieces from the previous two nights' set lists. I liked what I heard.

The best wife on the planet sat side by side with her as-excited-as-a-teenager-again husband and waited for the evening's performance to begin. Performance. It was fan-bloody-tastic. An exhibition of joyful musicianship exploded from the stage. That's right, joyful. Even the best wife on the planet was caught up in the whole evening and even downloaded a particular song that she had enjoyed. All three evenings at the Albert Hall ended with 21st Century Schizoid Man as an encore. During our evening's performance the saxophonist, Mel Collins, slipped in a sly little reference to Take the A-Train and the drummer (one of three!), Gavin Harrison slipped in a nod to Colonel Bogey.

It was a brilliant, magical evening and I cannot thank the best wife on the planet enough.

Starless

I have no idea how this text will relate to the image because, as I type, the cursor has taken on a life of its own.

Oh well. What you can see (wherever the hell it is) on this entry is a bit of Brendini juvenilia. Now, it could be argued that my artistic endeavours have not moved on over the passing decades. Indeed, it could well be argued that they have, in fact, degenerated. Well. Don't care! So, nyerr!

This is a watercolour what I did in February 1975. I can be that precise because I writted it on the back. It is called "Starless" and I know that because I also writted that on the back too. I also writted, in a different coloured ink the following legend: Based on a track from the album "Red" by King Crimson. 

Red was released in October 1974. The final track on the B side of the vinyl platter which I had excitedly purchased, was called "Starless". See how it all starts to add up?

King Crimson released their first album, In The Court of the Crimson King, in October 1969 and they are currently on tour supposedly playing fifty gigs in celebration of their fiftieth anniversary (They are actually playing fifty one, but never mind). 

The  reason for the ancient painting being posted here? I'M ONLY GOING TO BLOODY SEE THEM AT THE BLOODY ROYAL ALBERT BLOODY HALL!

It's an early birthday present from the best wife on the planet. I have never seen them live and for the first time in my life I am going to see Robert Fripp perform live and in the flesh and all. I am so excited, I feel like a teenager again!

Inktober Musings

Inktober, as a concept, really filled me with optimism and got my creative juices going. I mapped out the suggested titles for each day and even did a few preliminary sketches for one or two of the days. But, alas and alack, I pretty quickly fell by the wayside very early on. Nevertheless, what I did produce represents a number of hours very enjoyably spent. It was also nice to dig out a bottle of ink and a dip pen again.
I am going to re-produce my two favourites here; Tranquil and Spell. Tranquil, because Kenneth Grahame was wrong, well not wrong, but not entirely correct when Ratty tells Mole  "Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing--absolutely nothing--half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats." he should have added that wallowing in a hot bath with a good book and a good red wine by candlelight runs messing about in boats a pretty close second.

So, on to Spell. I thoroughly enjoyed drawing this although I may have tried to be a little too subtle for my own good. The more eagle-eyed viewer may spot the fact that there is only one corkscrew, one cork, one bottle of wine and a large number of goblets. I wish I could work that magic.

From the two examples I have shown here it would be easy to assume that there is an emerging theme of oenophilia. Those that know me personally will understand that my only response can be "guilty as charged m'lud."

Stockings Versus Tights: A Question of Practicalities

This is my entry for this (sort of ) week's caption competition. All the entries for the weekly CCGB battle may be seen here. The theme was Bank Robbers and I came second!
I think, personally, my attempts to loosen up may be a bit too loose low tech.
Too loose low tech. Toulouse Lautrec. Keep up!
But still, second place!
My head is currently so big that it can only be housed in one of those hangars at Cardington.

The Re-emergence of an Old Obsession.

The cartoon above came second with a total of 15 points in what was, it has to be said, a rather small field. Nonetheless, I am still very proud of that fact. All salient information can be found on this link.
Once again, time and tide would not wait for yours truly, so this was done rather hurriedly, but I am very pleased with the Dr's posture and demeanour. It is, of course, William Hartnell's incarnation of the Dr. I won't say the first and the best, but perhaps the first and the scariest?

Bad Boy, Brendini! Bad Bad Boy!

Well, hand me my hair-shirt and pass that scourge, will you? Mea culpa, mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. Yes yes, I know. The cartoon is of questionable taste, but that is merely par for the course for me as regular readers will know (won't you both?).

 No, I am ashamed to confess that this one is in particular poor taste. I owe D. C. Thomson, in general, and the late, great Jack Prout specifically, a huge apology. Close scrutiny (and if you click on the picture you may scrutinise in great detail) will reveal to readers of a certain age that two of the protagonists very strongly resemble the shepherd, Andrew Glen and his faithful Border Collie, Black Bob. The explanation lies in the fact that I based two of the characters on Andrew Glen and Black Bob. Simple as that.

You may be too young to appreciate Black Bob's qualities of bravery, loyalty and steadfastness, but he was very popular and had eight annuals dedicated to his adventures.

This is why I hang my head in shame. Black Bob would never participate in the shenanigans depicted here.  

The Body Beautiful?

This little bit of nonsense was my entry for the Cartoon Competition that took place in mid March!!!  I tried to come up with some sort of antithesis to Michelangelo's David and came up with Michelangelo's Popeye, with apologies to the late E. C. Segar. I came fourth with an ego-stroking eleven points. I would have come third, but I voted myself off the winner's podium through my own votes. Oh, the irony!
I did a fair bit of research for this particular cartoon and I think it shows. All in all, I'm pretty pleased with this one

A Little Bit Of Slapstick And Tickle.

On the eleventh of September 2017 this cartoon won the Cartoonists' Club of Great Britain's Caption Competition and all the entries may be found here. As I type it is 25th October 2017. This is how on the ball I am.
It was a wordless competition and the strict rules dictated that the entries must be comprehensible on an international level. So, no letters or numerals are allowed. This means no sound effects, or any other tools available to cartoonists, are permissible.
Now then. I have never understood this, to me, modern phenomenon of coulrophobia or irrational fear of clowns. I have loved clowns from a very early age purely because they made me laugh. What's not to love?
In the very late fifties or early sixties my father took me to the Bertram Mills Circus in Olympia in London where (and I don't know how he inveigled this) he introduced me to Coco the Clown - personally. As Coco shook my hand, and to my utmost surprise and delight, his hair lifted up! I repeat, what's not to love?
I took home a souvenir Coco the Clown plastic mask, but it was quite fragile and didn't last very long, but the memory and enjoyment of the meeting have lasted a lifetime.

Technologically Toddler Skills Level.

I'm not very sure how these illustrations will lay-out on this post. I have noticed, with great annoyance, that one post consisted of words displayed vertically, one letter at a time. One would have to be mightily persistent to have read that, so congratulations to you if you did.

Anyway, the reason for posting the three minor gems of modern visual arts above is because I wanted to illustrate how far I've come with my new laptop and software. As you can see I am still at the toddler stage. Balance is unsteady and there are one or two total collapses, but I'm getting there. Slowly.

The George Orwell is my first attempt at caricature for ages and ages and was drawn for the Cartoonists' Club Caricature Competition. I came third in an admittedly small field, but - well, blimey - third! And this while I'm still finding my legs!

The second pikcha is, yes, yet another return to Universal horror films of the 1930s and a little bit rude, but I was very pleased with the facial expressions. This was for the weekly Caption Competition  and I came third in this one too. I cannot begin to tell you how big a boost to the ego that is.

Finally, the mice cartoon (sans mice) was another Caption Competition entry, this time I came sixth, but the important point with this particular cartoon is the circumstance in which it was drawn and sent.

With my old set up I would often scan in pencils from my printer and "ink" using Photoshop on my old laptop. Then, using my domestic hub I would send in my competition entry. The mice cartoon was "pencilled" on my new software (and by god it looks like graphite on cartridge paper). This was then "inked" with a virtual pen nib which just happens to be pressure sensitive. This means the strength of a single line can be varied in one stroke just like reallio, trullio actual pen and ink!

And I sent it from The Lake District while I was on holiday! All I needed was an internet connection. Admittedly, the location meant that the broadband would often drop out, but do you see what this means? It means I pretty much have a portable studio. All I need is a Wi-Fi connection and I can send off drawings from where ever I like! This is astonishing stuff as far as I'm concerned.

My next step is start experimenting with colour. Watch this space.

Shark-Induced Flatulence

The little bit of silliness which you can see above, was my contribution to this week's caption competition. The theme was Scuba Diving. Members of my family will attest, with some amusement, that I am congenitally unable to pronounce the the word 'scuba' properly. This is, of course, arrant nonsense and it should go without saying that my pronunciation is the correct one.
That aside, I came joint second with fifteen points; a fact of which I am exceedingly proud.
Now then, nuts and bolts. It is inked over pencils on run-of-the-mill photocopy paper. It was drawn against the clock on a fairly busy Sunday morning, but I knew pretty much what I was going to draw a couple of days beforehand. I was going to draw the diver and shark 3/4 facing the viewer, so that we would see the shark from behind, with the diver slightly facing the viewer. I did a very, VERY rough sketch based on that idea, but felt that it would dissipate the image. I decided on a side-on image and a slow-burn left to right reading of the gag. This cartooning lark isn't just a few seconds slap-dash scribbling you know!
Upon taking cognizance of the subject, the baser parts of my imagination came naturally rushing to the fore. Was there some inevitability for my score? I believe so. It is a universal dictum that all farts are funny. So ner!

Well... It's Your Funeral.

This, O best beloveds, was my entry for this week's competition. The execution of the drawing didn't go as well as I had hoped. I had sketched out an idea in pencil (which I now seem to have mislaid) with the intention of re-drawing it separately if I felt it worked okay. The more I worked on the sketch, the more I felt that it seemed to work. The result was I was reluctant to re-draw it, but the dimensions on the piece of paper and the placing of the drawing were not within the usual boundaries I commonly use.
Then, came the inking. O Lor! Then, came the inking! I had heard good things about a particular brand of Indian ink and so I bought myself a bottle. Early experiments with said ink and a dip pen suggested that it was much richer in shellac than I was used to. With great trepidation, because this ink ain't particularly cheap, I diluted it with de-ionised water, thinking this would (quite literally) be the solution to the problem. In short, it wasn't and the result was the scatchy effort above. I even had to go over my signature with a different, more reliable ink. My first purchase of this brand shall also be my last.
The good news is that I got seven points for my entry, which isn't bad at all, all things considered.