Sometimes you don’t realize how much an artist has influenced you until you’re standing a few feet from the mad splashes they actually put on paper.
I’ve admired Ralph Steadman’s work for decades. Like most people, I first encountered it through reproductions; his collaborations with Hunter S. Thompson, magazine illustrations, books and prints. I even have a signed Steadman print hanging in our living room, directly across from a place where I often work. But until recently, I’d never had the opportunity to stand in front of a collection of his original artwork.
I wasn’t prepared for how much that would affect me.
I recently visited an exhibition of Steadman’s work with my wife, Angel, in Fort Collins, Colorado. I went in assuming I’d be looking at high-quality prints. Instead, these were originals—many of them enormous. Suddenly I could see the actual brush strokes, the thickness of the paint, the gradations in the ink and those explosive splashes that are so characteristic of his work. These were the same images I’d been seeing reproduced for much of my life, but now I could see the physical evidence of the artist making them. It was surprisingly emotional.
What has always fascinated me about Steadman is the tension in his work. There’s this wonderful organized chaos: splattered ink, frantic lines, distorted figures and an almost electric sense of movement. Then, in the middle of all that madness, he’ll drop in something geometrically precise: a perfect circle, a carefully constructed perspective or some other bit of technical draftsmanship. During a discussion accompanying the exhibition, I had the opportunity to ask his daughter, Sadie, about that contrast and where it came from.
Steadman’s influence on my own work has never been particularly literal. My drawings don’t look much like his. But his willingness to loosen up, take chances and allow spontaneity into the work has always inspired me. When the newspaper where I worked began printing in color around 2004, I experimented more with splashes of color and some of that controlled unpredictability. His work pushed me to be a little less conventional.
Seeing the originals also made me think about where my own work might go from here. I’m drawing about six cartoons a week right now, which doesn’t leave much opportunity to spend three or four days exploring a single painting or experimenting with another medium. As I eventually slow down—not retire, because I suspect I’ll be working until I’m on my deathbed—I’d like to paint more and see what happens when the deadline isn’t always a few hours away.
Angel captured that experience in a new video for her recently launched YouTube channel, Life Styled by Angel Drake. What I particularly like about it is that she wasn’t simply documenting an exhibition. She was watching one artist encounter another artist who had helped shape the way he thinks about making art.
And, appropriately enough, watching Steadman’s work made me want to make more of it. Check out the video below.
