Notes & Major Points

The Education of an Illustrator
Steven Heller & Marshall Arisman

Part 2: Ebbing & Flowing, Chapter 51: The Author/Illustrator
Steve Brodner

ISBN: 9781581150759

School of Visual Arts, et al. The Education of an Illustrator / Edited by Steven Heller and Marshall Arisman. Allworth Press, 2000.

The
Education

• ~… ~’
Illustrator

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THE AUTHOR/ILLUSTRATOR
By Steve Brodner

0 ne of the reasons I quit teaching illustration was that I began to question
what illustration was, how its essentials could be made clear to students,
and what on earth could I, or should I, be preparing them for. As I write

this, the field is changing rapidly. I’m not certain what it ‘s becoming or how much
we will recognize of professional illustration when the dust settles. Cheap disks
threaten to supplant large sections of the profession. The “market” seems glutted
with artists of varying levels of skill, which is leading to a much looser interpreta­
tion of “quality.” Art departments are showing great faith in their in-house person­
nel to replace illustration with Photoshopped collages. Fees for art works have not
changed in a generation.

I see illustrators for whom the next big movement is a movement out of
illustration. So, the question must be asked: For those remaining in illustration or
those wanting to get in, what does it still hold for us?

I begin first with the premise that there is nothing inherent in illustration
that is different from “art.” I know that this old distinction is prevalent, but the
graphic universe I know tells me it’s an irrelevant dialectic engaged in, quite often,
by those with a good deal at stake in maintaining a prescribed order. Winslow
Homer, Andy Warhol, Toulouse-Lautrec, Marshall Arisman, Ben Shahn, Thomas
Hart Benton, George Bellows, George Grosz, and Diego Rivera all argue persuasive­
ly against this idea. Therefore, if we, as they, are “real artists,” making “real art,”
what is the distinction that makes us illustrators as well?

The distinction that I see is in content. What makes our job different and
harder than other artistic pursuits is that we must do at least two things at once:
solve formalistic graphic, spatial, and color problems of all kinds plus, tell a literal
story. Storytelling is a cultivated craft, ancient and deeply important to a culture.
The truly fine illustrators share the mantel of shaman along with poets,
composer/troubadours, playwrights, and filmmakers. That “content” is shunned by
gallery owners and critics is not important. Pleasing them need not keep anyone up
at night when there are things one’s art has to say. Answering that call can be the
driving force in your life.

It is my observation that the highest calling in art is telling the important
story. The greatest art of all for me is about that. Bach, Shakespeare, Goya, John
Ford, Billie Holiday, Cartier-Bresson, and Michelangelo told, in their moment and

in their way, important stories. This is the guidepost for what future illustration
must have-to take the content and direction of your illustration into your own
hands. By starting with what you need to say and finding a plausible place to put it,
worlds can open up for your work. This is no magical panacea. Indeed, great finan­
cial reward is not in the equation. It’s just the simple notion that when your work
focuses on something deeply felt and earnestly expressed, it will naturally convey its
importance. In lieu of fame and fortune (which we in illustration are quite libera ted
from expecting), let there be the opportunity to make art that contains the ideas,
observations, and passionate points-of-view that artists see and feel in the world
around them.

In my case it has led to journalism. I love to go places and cover stories in
words and pictures. I regularly contact art directors with story ideas, some of which
they buy. I’ve covered political conventions, primary campaigns, a music festival, a
labor strike, a farm crisis, a climb of Mt. Fuji, and many other things. Very few of
these assignments originate with the magazine itself. They result from my love of
doing that work along with the courage, as an artist, to suggest a story. And why not?
Photographers do it all the time. They’ ll live in a place for a while and bring in pho­
tos an editor might want to build a story around. I know artists who will call a
regional magazine art director with a project and say, “Hey, let ‘s do a spread on the
birds of the Southeast.” How about covering a boat show for a yachting magazine,
dogs of New York, opening day at the ballpark? Almost anything about the tangible
world is a potential subject for a magazine piece and can be covered by an illustra­
tor, usually, with greater impact.

The key word here is “passion,” the powerful connection you feel for
something true and compelling. “When truth is the goal,” Ansel Adams said, “your
work cannot help but partake of truth.” If self-generated projects come from that
place, they will, I believe, be compelling; and find a home in books, magazines, or
on the Internet. Meanwhile, back at your portfolio, your work will assume a new
center of gravity. Art directors, thinking of you as more than a walking wrist, may
finally start calling with assignments, which are much closer to your hean.

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