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Inside the Business of Illustration Steven Heller & Marshall Arisman

Part 2, Chapter 2: Style

ISBN: 9781581153866

CSULB Library Permalink: https://csu-lb.primo.exlibrisgroup.com/permalink/01CALS_ULB/d7ul0l/alma991014861059702901

Heller, Steven, and Marshall Arisman. Inside the Business of Illustration. Allworth Press, 2004.

CHAPTER TWO

Style

Style defines an artist's place in time. It distinguishes old from new,

fashionable from timeless, even genuine from fake . Much of an artist's career

rests on possessing a recognizable style, even if that artist assumes (or steals)

someone else's. Throughout the modern age, illustrators have, with impunity,

tried on other illustrators' styles as though a hat or coat. This kind of ready­

to-wear style becomes theirs until the next trend emerges and they try on

another. And so it goes in art and commerce.

Style is also a form of currency. For a successful artist it can be

money in the bank while for a bankrupt one it is merely counterfeit. So

beware of false prophets selling fake styles and beware of taking on a style

that produces no profit. Style is a critical concern for an illustrator at any

stage in his or her career. What it says about an artist's point of view and

how it frames an illustrator's ideas can mean triumph or failure-it can mean

an illustrator has a voice or is mute.

However, style must not be viewed as the be-all or end-all but rather

a function of art, not the reason for it.

So, how does an illustrator choose his style? Sometimes style is

purposely selected from what Tom Wolfe has called "the big closet" of

historical or contemporary cultural references, both high and low. Other

times style selects the artist and by some twist of fate or preordained destiny

it becomes the natural fit for whomever wears it. But most times it is a

decision on the illustrator's part to find a distinct method of expression that

also carries with it the value of allure. In the commercial sense of the word,

style is a hook that sells a product, which in this case is illustration. So as a

pure business decision, style is decided upon in the same way that a merchant

might choose a sign-by what will best attract the attention of the proverbial

passersby.

Most "fine" artists recoil from the commercial label and most

illustrators (who are already professionally labeled "commercial artists")

attempt to reconcile the A and C words. But both have to address issues of

style. For illustrators, balance is accomplished through styles that signal a

particular approach that is not entirely mainstream-but not too off the track

either. If a style is too outrageous it will not only bypass convention, it will

thwart any hope of being saleable. Conversely, if the style is too neutral it will

not stand out, and therefore be less sought after by art buyers. Balance is

critical. Knowing how to present an honest persona and still appeal to art

directors, editors, and spectators is the challenge faced by all illustrators.

Another challenge is to avoid being obsessed with style. As

important as it is, style-compulsion has deleterious effects. Many illustrators

(indeed some very talented ones) are pure stylists and less interested in

concept than form. These artists excel in rendering pastiche or realism-their

hand is a finely tuned machine. They are also the same artists on whom art

directors impose their own ideas and in return get an impeccable but often

soulless rendering in their particular style. While this is a venerable practice, it

can nonetheless be limiting. The style of the moment, whatever it may be­

new wave, old wave, art brut, realism, romanticism-has a proscribed shelf­

life before going stale or turning rotten. So the danger for an illustrator in

relying entirely on style as his whole equity is that when it falls from

popularity (and it will) the paying work will doubtless dry up too.

Conversely, if the style is a vessel for concepts, the longevity of the art and

artist increases, at least insofar as style and concept are honest, intelligent,

and viable.

Which leads to the question: What is an honest, intelligent, and

viable style? To be honest means to select a form of stylistic address that fits

the user snugly. In other words, the illustrator should not affect a style that

does not merit the work itself. It is imprudent to work in a style that does not

reflect the intelligence (or skill and talent) of the artist. To be intelligent

means selecting (or evolving into) a form that best expresses the artist's acuity.

Sometimes a comic approach is the best way to communicate serious

messages. A satiric caricaturist will use exaggeration and distortion to present

ideas, but sometimes he will use a very realistic style that forces a double take

and underscores the irony. This is an example of intelligently knowing when

and how to use one's graphic and comic strengths. But sometimes an

illustrator may go overboard on the cartoon style, which undermines the idea.

So intelligence returns to balance, and balance means exactly knowing when

to apply the stylistic tropes that are best for maximum impact. Finally,

viability means that the art is publishable. If for an illustrator the style and

concept are inappropriate for any reason, then it is not viable, pure and

simple. Which goes back to the earlier point that a style must be a snug fit in

order for the entire work to be harmonious.

Reflection of a Personality Style can be analytically discussed as a means to achieve specific illustrative

ends. But it is also a reflection of the illustrator's persona that occurs because it

is meant to happen, and must thus be addressed with a little more subjectivi.,ty

(perhaps even mysticism). This does not imply that style picks the illustrator;

as indicated above, but that over time the illustrator grows into an outward

manifestation of an inner sensibility. Ralph Steadman's violently splotchy,

linear style is not just an incredibly expressive way to vent his rage against

cultural and political betes noir; it is an extension of himself, or, to put it

concisely, it is his voice. When style is a voice it is not to be turned on and off

capriciously. It is something that is endemic to the persona of the artist.

Like Steadman, Henrik Drescher's style is (literally) Henrik Drescher.

Although his work takes various forms-drawing, collage, painting,

sculpture, as well as editorial, children's book, animation-his style is a

consistent reflection (indeed evocation) of himself. He could not be Drescher

without that specific style. Moreover, anyone who copies his brutish approach

is committing a disservice (maybe even a crime) because it is akin to stealing

another's identity.

Which leads to the question of influence in the evolution of style. It

is perfectly acceptable for an illustrator to be so influenced that her "interim"

style reflects the style of the one who is influencing. But this cannot be

sanctioned for an extended period. How many times have the styles of Brad

Holland, Sue Coe, Seymour Chwast, Edward Sorel, and others been invoked

by acolytes? Like copying plaster casts, this is a way students and neophytes

learn the processes of leading artists and is acceptable to a certain pedagogical

degree. But once an artist goes out into world with a portfolio of other

artists' styles, alarms must blare and fingers must wag. A savvy art director

knows the difference between the original and a fake, and the latter will

suffer consequences. Of course, not all art directors are savvy, so a few

unethical illustrators will sneak into a few good jobs, but the deceit will not

last long. So as a word to the wise, learn from others but develop an original

style before the time to enter the market.

Style is a measure of the artistic (and commercial) continuum. So,

many illustrators embrace approaches that are current, and currency can be

redundant. Here the challenge is to distinguish oneself from the pack in ways

that do not subvert the basic approach to creation. Many well-known

illustrators, from time to time, purposely alter or change their styles to avoid

redundancy. Even if they originated the style, it is more prudent to let the

acolytes have it than compete in a draining creative battle. Style is not a

' forever thing. Vision is more important and it can be dressed in various styles

over time.

An illustrator's value is determined by various intersecting virtues,

drawing or painting ability, conceptual acuity, problem-solving expertise, as

well as being courteous, kind, obedient, and thrifty (well, maybe not the

latter). Style is but one part of this list. As important as it is, style cannot be

held as more so than any of the others. Style is a function of who one is as

an artist.

66

Talking about Style

HELLER: How does an illustrator develop, maintain, and protect his or her

style?

ARISMAN: Picasso said that style should be what other people call what you

do. This is style in the purest sense of the word. Unfortunately, in the

illustration business, style is a bankable word. Illustrators are given

assignments based on their style. If you don't have a style that is consistep.t,

art directors hesitate to assign work, not knowing what will come back as a

finished piece. This, it seems to me, is understandable, but in too many cases

illustrators affect a style rather than evolve a style.

Undergraduate illustration majors are hammered with this issue.

"You must have a style" is rule number one in putting together a portfolio.

Two things happen when you force a look or style in your work. First,

experimentation stops. Self-editing begins. Formulas result. The second thing

is that if you don't have a style you will begin to look for one outside

yourself. You can find a style this way but it won't be your own. This brings

up the complicated issue of influence versus plagiarism. Any artist who looks

at other people's artwork will and should be influenced by it. If the influence

is genuine it will be referenced in the work. Determining whether you are

stealing or learning from another artist has raised heated debates and

bedeviled conversations for thousands of years. Picasso's comment was

"steal from everybody." And he did. Braque, African masks, and numerous

other sources. But, in the end, Picasso did Picasso. He made the references

his own.

To give a more personal example, in the late sixties I saw my first

painting show of Francis Bacon at the Guggenheim Museum. The figuration

that dominated the art world at that time was not emotional. It was a cross

reference to popular culture. Pop artists like Warhol, Rosenquist, Wesselman,

and others used the figure as an icon. Warhol's silk-screened heads of Marilyn

Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor, and Elvis Presley passed through my brain and not

my stomach. In my own work I was struggling with trying to reflect the

emotions I was feeling at the time. The Francis Bacon show went right

through my nerve endings, not though my brain. I left the exhibition

emotionally drained-and excited.

Most people are seen in categories and miss the subtle nuances.

People that didn't like me said, "You are ripping off Francis Bacon." Others,

more gently said, "You must like Bacon's work." I knew the impact of

, Bacon's painting was showing up in my work. As defensive as I was (no one

likes to hear that their work is not original), I also knew that Bacon's work

would pass though me and become less dominant if I just kept working. I

would, in effect, incorporate it, which is what influence should do. That has

happened over the years and hopefully what I am doing now is more of my

own. This is what you were referring to in your opening questions, "Let's talk

about style. You have one (maybe two.)"

In the illustration business, sryle is more immediate; little time is

given to develop a style naturally. Successful illustrators are blatantly ripped

off because their "sryle" makes money. Different styles are in fashion at

different times. Brad Holland has, in the past, been ripped off more than any

illustrator I can think of. There was also Cober, David Levine, and others

who were ripped off but Holland had so many imitators in the nineties it was

painful. These rip-offs were commissioned and appeared in print. I fault the

art director here as much as the illustrator.

What do you do when you see a portfolio that in kind terms is

"highly influenced" by another illustrator?

HELLER: "Highly influenced" is a polite way of stating a big problem. But

the fact is there is a zeitgeist or prevalent style that many young illustrators

follow. Whether it is the surrealist sryle or the art brut sryle or a realist style.

For each of these categories there are exemplars representing them. Brad

Holland is surreal, Henrik Drescher is brut, and James McMullan epitomizes

the realist sensibility yet has an impressionistic leaning. These are languages

as well a's styles. So it is not unusual for artists and illustrators to work with

these dominant languages.

I've used illustrators who somewhat resemble Holland or Drescher

or McMullan or any number of others, but I would not use them if they

looked exactly like these artists. When I see someone's work, the worst thing

I could say to myself is "this is like Holland." But this determination is

subjective. What's influenced slightly to my eye may seem like a rip-off to

another and vice versa. So I try to balance as well as I can. If I see too many

68

of Holland's or Drescher's mannerisms or ideas in a portfolio, I close it

immediately. But if I see a spirit of another but an individual approach trying

to break out, then I might go with it.

However, the other part of this story is my desire to avoid

redundancy. I will not use three illustrators who work in a similar manner,

even if they are otherwise totally original. It doesn't do them, or me, any

good to have repetition of style. I also won't use someone who does the •

currently hip-what I call schizophrenic-style (a cross between art brut and

cartoon) because I see it everywhere. Again, there is no percentage in using

something that has too much currency.

When you critique your students I know you are more concerned

with their content, but how do you address style that is too au courant or, for

that matter, redundant?

ARISMAN: I usually start by raising the question of style before we get into

the content. "Many people are going to say your work looks like ... " I then

ask the class to raise their hands in agreement or disagreement. The student is

now defensive but a collective opinion is out in the open. An honest

discussion takes place that relates to more than the singular example. The

attempt is not to resolve it (a legitimate influence may be taking place) but to

recognize things that often go unsaid by art directors or fellow students not

wanting to hurt someone's feelings.

The whole point of being in a community of illustrators is to use the

collective voice of the group to vocalize what we are looking at. Why else pay

all that money for graduate school? If you can do it by yourself I recommend

that applicants use the tuition money to rent a studio and get their MFA in

much easier and cheaper ways.

When I see more concern for technique than content, I raise the

question "Am I working very hard to get through your technique to see the

image?" My assumption is that I see the image first; then I see how it was

done. When the order reverses itself something is wrong. Texture is a prime

example. Students find an overall texture (cracking, brushstrokes, running

swirls, etc.) as a base of their illustration. They disregard that this texture

does not belong on everything. The dog, the glass table, the rug, and mom's

face. I suggest that texture is not style and that the surface of things should be

considered in combination with each other. I then take a piece of white paper

and cut a small square out of the center. By moving the square over the entire

surface of their work I ask them to imagine that what they are seeing are

musical notes. If all the "notes" in the illustration are the same note,

something is wrong.

HELLER: But a dominant style implies that all the lines will be the same; it's

inevitable that this recurs. Is there any sincerity in following style?

ARISMAN: The current interest in art brut is understandable, if not always

useful. Sincere images, driven by an untrained artist, have power. Much like

African masks, the artists are not trying to make "art"; they are trying to

make magic. In our current postmodern world of self-conscious image

making, the "reference" pop culture in all media, the individual artistic voice

is hard to come by. Images, including illustration, are overwhelmed by mass

media. We have seen too much, we know too much, and we yearn for the

power we see reflected in art brut. We are unfortunately too well trained and

experienced and that "magic" has little to do with what most artists are

trying to do. Taken on its most superficial level, the drawing or painting of

art brut is taken as "style." Mocking what appears to be honesty, artists have

imitated the lack of drawing skills as being honest and contemporary. In

short, drawing bad is seen as style. Sometimes this lack of drawing skills is

true. Many artists can't draw anymore because drawing was not part of what

they did. Now that drawing has reemerged, how to draw has become an

issue. Bad drawing has become a style.

In the classroom this issue has to be addressed as a style issue. The

student who can draw has to be confronted with why they are choosing not

to. If this is style-driven it won't last. There is too much of it around. If it is a

genuine impulse to ask questions about "why am I drawing this way?" it will

become integrated into their vocabulary. Have you seen portfolios where the

art brut and cartoon issues seem genuine?

HELLER: I've seen real honesty expressed through incompetent drawing. I

say this without tongue in cheek, yet with considerable reservation. There are

some people who cannot draw but make that deficiency into a positive thing.

Sadly, this way of working has become a superficial style for many who are

just mediocre and who use the surface of "bad drawing" to suggest cool and

hip. Remember, art brut derives from truly psychotic people, not nice middle­

class boys and girls who want to make some kind of creative statement.

Would you agree, then, that our advice should be, at this stage, to

forget art brut and return to the real art of drawing or risk becoming just

another style-hack?

ARISMAN: I agree that style evolves naturally from a solid foundation in

drawing. Once established, the foundation can be explored-expressionism,

art brut, or whatever. I think that all "styles" should be forgotten as a

conscious goal. The surprise is that everyone has a style whether he or she

wants one or not. At this point, an artist's line drawing, woodcuts, paintings,

collages, etc., are all connected. Everyone recognizes the artist's work in

whatever medium he chooses. This is not a formula, but rather an expression.

That expression is the artist's style. Have you ever given a first-time

assignment to an illustrator who then turned in a finished piece in a totally

different style?

HELLER: It has not happened too often. Most beginning illustrators don't

want to risk screwing up, which will doubtless hinder getting a second job.

But this style shifting has happened more frequently with veterans. It is a

problem sometimes because it throws one's expectation out of whack. I'm

not adverse to artists experimenting with their style, but I'd like to know in

advance so I can judge the work intelligently and without prejudice.

I agree with you that style is expression, but not all style is

expressive. Indeed some styles subvert the message while others enhance it.

If you were to give a class devoted to style, what would it entail?

ARISMAN: I would have each student put up at least ten examples of their

work that included line drawings, painting, woodcuts, etc., and find the same

voice in all of them. Many students think that style is the result of using the

same technique. It's not. Style is the underlying handwriting of whatever you

do, no matter what tool you have in your hand. Style is driven by your view

of the world, not by a technical procedure. When your head changes, your

style will change. Then you will have a new style to explore. This is a natural,

healthy, on-going process.

  • Inside the Business of Illustration
    • Steven Heller & Marshall Arisman
    • Part 2, Chapter 2: Style