Posts Tagged ‘New York’

February 4, 2013

The gapingvoid Tapestry

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Tapestry, a won­der­ful little picture-storytelling app from NYC did a lovely job of cap­tu­ring the backs­tory of my “I don’t have friends” piece, one of my all-time favorites.…

[To read the entire ori­gi­nal backs­tory, go here.]

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November 9, 2012

Please Give To The American Red Cross. #Sandy

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[PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DONATE HERE. THANK YOU.]

As you all know, gapingvoid’s New York con­nec­tions run deep. So of course, we wan­ted to help make a dif­fe­rence in the utterly horrif­ying wake of Hurri­cane Sandy…

We made a video to help out the Ame­ri­can Red Cross, a truly ama­zing orga­ni­za­tion, that YEAH, needs our help. Badly.

Please donate what you can, as soon as you can. And feel free to share/use the video as you see fit, to help out/help spread the word. Thank you.

P.S. The video is a posi­tive mes­sage of Hope, par­tially ins­pi­red by The Smiths/Johnny Marr song, “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out”.

A totally appro­priate thought for “The City That Never Sleeps”, sure, but it’s also applies to the human spi­rit, something that bles­ses New York in abun­dance. As long as New York endu­res, as long as the light shi­nes bright there, I have hope in huma­nity. It’s that simple.

I rea­lize that Sandy hit more than New York City, but the lights going out in our old neigh­borhoods really affec­ted us per­so­nally. (Jason grew up in Long Island and was there for five days, in dark­ness, after it hit; I used to live in Manhat­tan as well) .

For my friends in New York and nearby, this is for you. Godbless.

[PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DONATE HERE. THANK YOU.]

October 30, 2012

The gapingvoid #Sandy Cartoons

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#sandy. Wow. I’m stun­ned. It’s been quite an event­ful 24 hours, to say the least. My pra­yers go out to everybody.

I drew these three car­toons this mor­ning, and pos­ted them on Ins­ta­gram [user­name: @gapingvoid]. Though they won’t dry out the land any quic­ker, I hope they’ll make some­body suf­fe­ring through this first-hand feel bet­ter for  a little while, at least.

[P.S. As you know, New York City and I have this very intense long-distance love affair– I used to live there, so I’m par­ti­cu­larly upset about what hap­pe­ned to my old West Village neigh­borhood. I visit fre­quently, though not NEARLY often enough. Boo.]

Time to be strong…

March 29, 2011

Portrait of New York Mk2

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Portrait Of New York

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February 17, 2011

the corner bistro

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I took this pho­to­graph when I was in New York last week, back in my old neighborhood…

The Cor­ner Bis­tro was my regu­lar wate­ring hole, back when I lived in the West Village in the late 1990s, back when I was first dra­wing my tra­de­mark “car­toons on the back of busi­ness cards”.

I’d stum­ble in there late-at-night a few times a week. Great hamburgers.

Jeff would pour me a drink. Maker’s Mark on the rocks.

Jeff was a pho­to­grapher. Nice guy. Great bar­ten­der. He liked my car­toons. I’d show him the new ones. He’d tell me which ones he liked.

I liked Jeff. We had a rap­port. This was before I was ever published. This was long before blog­ging or Web 2.0.

This was when I was still unk­nown. A nobody. A goof­ball nobody in a tweed jac­ket, who would sit at the end of the bar for hours on end, dood­ling on the back of busi­ness cards for no reason.

So the Satur­day I was in New York last week, I walk into The Cor­ner Bis­tro, again.

Jeff was wor­king; he’s still there. He’s married and has a kid now. He’s got a regu­lar job doing something, but tends bar once a week for the hell of it.

He remem­be­red me!

I give him a sig­ned copy of Ignore Every­body [I had brought one with me, with the express inten­tion of giving it to him], the book that was ins­pi­red by my days when I lived in New York– my lazy wee­kends in the West Village, my Satur­day after­noons at the Cor­ner Bis­tro, enjo­ying a drink, watching the cabs through the win­dow, dri­ving up Hud­son, as Char­lie Par­ker pla­yed on the best juke­box in Manhattan.

It as really good to see Jeff again. It had been over a decade. It felt like coming home. It was nice to be able to say to some­body from the old ‘hood, “Yeah. I made it. Finally.”

“This is an awe­some New York story,” he said.

He’s right. It is.

Thank you, Jeff. Thank you, New York. Seriously…

[#Evil­Plans]

August 5, 2010

you just have to do what you do with reverence

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[Ori­gi­nally pos­ted Sept., 2004]

There are a lot of great mar­ke­ting books and blogs out there. That being said, I still think the best mar­ke­ting sto­ries come from per­so­nal, first-hand experience.

Here’s a favo­rite one of mine:

Back when I lived in New York there was this fabu­lous, crazy-ass juice bar on West Hous­ton called Lucky’s Juice Joint. I think it’s no lon­ger there. I hear it’s moved.

It was the most out-of-place busi­ness south of 14th Street. Hard to des­cibe, except as a “hard­core hip­pie haven”. Just had this weird, crazy, psychedelic-rainforest vibe. But damn, it had the best juice in town. It was ama­zing stuff. Tas­ted like the fruits and vege­ta­bles were pic­ked that mor­ning. Fresher than anything else I found in New York. And yes, I had searched high and low for even bet­ter alter­na­ti­ves, but never found one. In New York, this was really it.

The boss was this crazy loo­king tie-dye wea­ring guy who loo­ked and tal­ked like he had done too many drugs back in the ’six­ties. A big ol’ middle aged, acid-head teddy bear. One day we struck up a brief con­ver­sa­tion. I com­pli­men­ted the hell out of his pro­duct. “Wow,” I quietly gushed, “Your stuff is the best. It really is…”

“Sure it is,” said the guy. “That’s because we make it with reverence.”

You don’t have to get a job with a famous com­pany or hot-shot industry in order to have a spec­ta­cu­lar career. You just have to do what you do with reverence.

July 16, 2010

supergenius conference in nyny next week

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I’ll be in New York next week, spea­king at Super­ge­nius, the Word-Of-Mouth con­fe­rence orga­ni­zed by Andy Ser­no­vitz and his team.

I desig­ned two prints for the event, based on Andy’s two favo­rite WOM lines.

My take on Word-Of-Mouth? Two thoughts:

1. Would any­body tell a friend? If it’s a social object, yes.

2. Adver­ti­sing is the cost of not being a social object.

I’ll let you figure the rest out on your own…

Thanks to Andy for put­ting on such a swell show. Can’t wait!

[Com­mis­sion your own gaping­void print etc.]

January 26, 2010

urban boho artist crap

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I came across this old car­toon of mine today– I drew it when I was still living in New York, back in the late 1990s.

Back then, the whole urban boho artist crap was a lot more inte­res­ting to me than it is now.

Now it just makes me cringe…

[About Hugh. Car­toon Archive. Com­mis­sion Hugh. Sign up for Hugh’s “Daily Car­toon” News­let­ter.]

December 27, 2009

print profile: “c.f.a.”

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From the gaping­void Gallery:

I drew this when I was living in New York, in the late ‘nineties.

If you actually lis­ten to me speak, if you actually read my prose wri­ting, you’ll find I don’t swear very often. But somehow it works in car­toons. Espe­cially ones crea­ted in New York.

This print is one of four prints in the “Port­fo­lio Series Num­ber Two”, but you may purchase it here indi­vi­dually.

[About Hugh. Car­toon Archive. Sign up for my “Daily Car­toon” News­let­ter.]

December 7, 2009

new york pyramid

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[About Hugh. Car­toon Archive. Sign up for my “Daily Car­toon” News­let­ter.]

November 25, 2009

new york is a corpse

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[About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Hire Hugh. Buy Hugh’s Art. Car­toon Archive.]

November 8, 2009

faq’s

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When I set up gapingvoid.com back in May, 2001, I drew this car­toon for the FAQ page.

As you can see, I still wasn’t quite over my crazy-ass New York life yet… even if that had ended over a year before.

I fore­see my work get­ting quie­ter and more lyri­cal over the next few years. Less rock and roll, more Phi­llip Glass, to use a musi­cal allegory.

Yes, I’m really loo­king for­ward to it. Can’t wait!

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Twit­ter. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­viewEssen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

 

November 5, 2009

“random new york”, 1998

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I drew this one in early 1998, during my first months of living in Manhat­tan.

I liked all those intense, late-night ran­dom con­ver­sa­tions with all sorts of equally ran­dom Manhat­tan peo­ple– espe­cially at first– but of course, after a while they all start to sound the same.

This is the kind of dra­wing one does sit­ting on a New York bars­tool, when one is not liking one’s day job nearly well enough. That was my situa­tion at the time, anyway.

If today I met my youn­ger self from back then, I’d say to him, “You’re just paying your dues, Kiddo. Fric­kin’ get over yourself…”

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Twit­ter. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­viewEssen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

 

October 3, 2009

the red zone and the gray zone

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nyny0910

Some­body just emai­led me to ask, why did I use red and gray for the New York print?

Besi­des aesthe­tic rea­sons [Red & Gray gives the piece a sort of retro-hipster Ben Shahn vibe, which I like], here’s a little more insight.

I have a thing I call “The Red Zone”. The Red Zone is the state of cons­cious­ness when you are fully alive– when you are crea­ting something, making art, making love, watching the sun set, wha­te­ver. When all your synap­ses are firing.

I have a thing I call “The Gray Zone”. The Gray Zone is the state of cons­cious­ness when you are NOT fully alive– when you’re just bum­bling along, half-awake, sleep­wal­king through life. We’ve all been there, pro­bably a lot more often than we’d care to admit.

“New York” is not just a geo­graphi­cal place to me. It is also a metaphor for the archety­pal urban experience.

And I find with this archety­pal expe­rience, the battle bet­ween the Red Zone and The Gray Zone to domi­nate one’s mind is at its most intense.

Art Class over for today, Kid­dies! Rock on.

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

September 20, 2009

i wonder what the market is for gapingvoid t-shirts…

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[photo cre­dit: Steve Woolf.]

[From Sep­tem­ber, 2007:]

I’ve made a lot of t-shirts in my life. The one for blip.tv is without ques­tion one of my all-time favo­ri­tes. The shirt had an inte­res­ting gene­sis. I met up with blip.tv’s Char­les Hope for lunch the last time I was in New York. While we were wai­ting for the cof­fee to arrive, I drew him the car­toon, right there at the table. Within a few weeks Char­les had taken the design and tur­ned it into a t-shirt. The rest is his­tory etc. Hmmmm… Maybe I should be doing more of these.…. [Char­les blog­ged both the lunch and the car­toon here.]

Just thin­king outloud…

AFTERTHOUGHT: I don’t think I’d want to be in the shirt busi­ness per se. That being said, a fun t-shirt now and again for my hard­core blog rea­ders wouldn’t be a bad thing. Again, just thin­king outloud…

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Twit­ter. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Pri­vate Com­mis­sions. Cube Gre­na­des.]

September 10, 2009

the purple cow print party: venue confirmed

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[Click on image to enlarge etc.]

CONFIRMED: The print party will be held at Ilili, where I had my last #NYCt­wee­tup, 6pm-Late, on 8th Octo­ber. [Click here for more details.]

Bet­ween 27th & 28th
236 5th Ave­nue, New York, NY 10001, USA
(212) 683‑2929‎
ililinyc.com

The res­tau­rant will be suppl­ying food, Stormhoek will be suppl­ying wine. Plus there will be a cash bar, if you’d rather have beer or liquor. It’ll be a fun eve­ning. Rock on.

August 27, 2009

the marfa series

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[Click on image to enlarge etc.]
Gree­tings from Alpine, Texas. I left here two days ago, and flew to New York City from El Paso [a 220 mile drive to the air­port], in order to sign the the Ignore Every­body prints.
Yes, it was actually chea­per and easier to fly up there and sign them, than to ship them down here. Go figure.
After a few hours sig­ning them at the printer’s, I rushed off the Island of Manhat­tan yes­ter­day after­noon, to catch a flight back to El Paso via DFW.
I was in my bed at the hotel in El Paso by mid­night. Slept like a log. This mor­ning I went to buy some art sup­plies in down­town El Paso, had a bit of lunch at Rudy’s, then drove 220 miles back home to Alpine.
A quick visit, to say the least. “Wel­come To The Over-Extended Class” etc.
Among my purcha­ses this mor­ning was a big roll of can­vas. The plan is to make a series of large, 48“x48” [4 foot-by-4 foot] can­va­ses, i.e. exactly the same height, and one-half the width of desert­manhat­tan. The wee sketch above should give you an idea what I’m tal­king about.
I’m thin­king of calling these “The Marfa Series”, named after Marfa, the next town over from Alpine, 26 miles away. I drive there and back about three or four times a week; it’s one of my favo­rite dri­ves in the world. The drive ins­pi­red the idea for the the series in a SERIOUSLY big way.
Some will be cran­ked out in a cou­ple of days. Some will take a lot lon­ger, even a cou­ple of months. I have no idea where this is taking me, other than I think I’ll end up somewhere pretty inte­res­ting. Look for them for sale over on the gallery over the next few months or so, or feel free to e-mail me if you’re loo­king to com­mis­sion one. Thanks.
[Backs­tory: About Hugh. Twit­ter. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Pri­vate Com­mis­sions. Cube Gre­na­des.]

August 23, 2009

the social event of the year: the purple cow print party, NYNY, October 8th

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PurpleCow0909.jpg
[The Pur­ple Cow Print. Click on image to enlarge etc.]

[UPDATE:]  CONFIRMED: The print party will be held at Ilili, 6pm-Late, on 8th Octo­ber, 2009.

Bet­ween 27th & 28th
236 5th Ave­nue, New York, NY 10001, USA
(212) 683‑2929‎
ililinyc.com

The res­tau­rant will be suppl­ying food, Stormhoek will be suppl­ying wine. Plus there will be a cash bar, if you’d rather have beer or liquor. It’ll be a fun eve­ning. Rock on.

For those of you still in the dark re. The Pur­ple Cow Print that I wor­ked on with Seth Godin, one of the grea­test mar­ke­ting thin­kers in the world, this is just a note to say I’ve set up an archive of all the blog posts about it here
Seth blogs about it here as well…
And of course, it’s for sale on the gaping­void gallery

The other bit of news is, Seth and I will be thro­wing an offi­cial launch party for the print in New York City on the eve­ning of Octo­ber 8th, 2009. A chance for friends of both gaping­void and Seth to hang out and meet n’ greet. A bit bela­ted, maybe, but we both had very busy sum­mers.
We’re thro­wing the party in a Leba­nese res­tau­rant in Chel­sea, I’ll also have some of my other works on dis­play– both prints AND ori­gi­nal dra­wings. And yes, they’ll be for sale. So it’ll be a bit like an art ope­ning, with perhaps more empha­sis than usual on the peo­ple atten­ding [not to men­tion, food and drink], than the actual art itself. Stormhoek, natu­rally, will be suppl­ying the wine.
Details to follow shortly. Watch this space etc.
Any­way, I hope if you’re in the area, you’ll be able to make it. Thanks.
[NOTE TO SELF: What a crazy adven­ture this has all been so far…]

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. Twit­ter. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Pri­vate Com­mis­sions. Cube Gre­na­des.]

July 16, 2009

home again

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[Me and Seth sig­ning the silksc­reen…]
Got back to West Texas last night after almost a week on the road. A quick visit to Sili­con Valley for the Techc­runch Party, then an equally brief visit to New York.
I was on the East Coast mostly to co-sign the Pur­ple Cow print with Seth Godin.
That was a great after­noon, visi­ting his office in Westches­ter County. He’s a seriously inte­res­ting guy. We tal­ked a lot about all sorts of things…
Other high­lights were the #NYCt­wee­tup- about 50 peo­ple came. Secondly, I got to meet my edi­ting team at Penguin/Portfolio for the first time. They seem very happy with how the book is doing, so it was all good.

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[Update: Galley­cat, the publishing blog, also cove­red the print sig­ning:]

Hugh Mac­Leod (right) became Internet-famous by dra­wing car­toons on the back of busi­ness cards and publishing them online at his Gaping Void blog. Along the way, he gai­ned some valua­ble insights into mar­ke­ting and crea­ti­vity which he also hap­pily sha­red with rea­ders; that was enough to attract the atten­tion of the Port­fo­lio imprint at Pen­guin Group, which recently published MacLeod’s first book, Ignore Every­body.
Now, one of MacLeod’s friends (and ins­pi­ra­tions) hap­pens to be Seth Godin — if you’ve been rea­ding Galley­Cat long enough, you know we’re right there with him on that — and back in April, Mac­Leod drew a ver­sion of the cover to Godin’s Pur­ple Cow (on a much big­ger sur­face than a busi­ness card). “To me the book, as a totem, as an icon, repre­sents a huge shift in thin­king that came along, almost unin­vi­ted, back in the early 2000’s,” Mac­Leod emai­led Godin shortly after. “The dra­wing repre­sents [to me] my own abi­lity to inter­na­lize it.” By the end of the month, he was taking orders for limited-edition prints which he flew into New York City ear­lier this week to sign along­side Godin. The pre-order price for the prints was $495, but if you want one now, it’ll set you back $1,100.

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. Twit­ter. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Pri­vate Com­mis­sions. Cube Gre­na­des.“EVIL PLANS”.]

June 23, 2009

doubting thomas

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[“Con­fu­sed”. Click on image to enlarge etc.]
I drew this car­toon ear­lier this eve­ning.
It’s con­veys the state I found myself in, back in New York a decade ago, when I was doing what I con­si­der to be my best, or at least, my most for­ma­tive work.
No artist wants their best work behind them. No human being wants their best days behind them. Yet my my Inner Doub­ting Tho­mas keeps telling me, I’ll never be that young again; I’ll never have my work be that fresh & new again. Nor, sadly, will the world, at least to me.
To Hell with it. I’ll carry on, regard­less.
And of course, so will you, at wha­te­ver insa­nely imprac­ti­cal path you chose for your­self. We knew what we were doing, when we sig­ned up for this tour of duty.
We still have a few tricks up our slee­ves, don’t we?
Doub­ting Tho­mas can go fuck him­self…
[etc: About Hugh. Inter­view. News­let­ter. Book. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Pri­vate Com­mis­sions. Cube Gre­na­des. Hugh­train.]

January 26, 2009

ten questions for mark o’donnell

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If you’ve spent a lot of time around the New York lite­rary party cir­cuit in the last cou­ple of deca­des, chan­ces are you would’ve run into a very old friend of mine, the author and playw­rite, Mark O’Donnell.
I met Mark at sum­mer camp back when I was a kid. He was a camp coun­ci­lor. Back then he was atten­ding Har­vard, where he and his twin brother, Steve, were hea­vily invol­ved in the Har­vard Lam­poon, the great, old college humor maga­zine that spaw­ned offshoots like Natio­nal Lam­poon, Spy Maga­zine and The Onion.
Mark’s spe­cialty at camp was wri­ting skits, which he’d get the kids to per­form around th camp­fire. And damn, they were good. Funny and smart as hell. I still remem­ber how much fun they were to put on. I still remem­ber how much peo­ple loved them, both old and young.
Fast for­ward ten years. I’m in college at UT Aus­tin, though now I’m now back up East in Bos­ton for a week, visi­ting family. I’m in the offi­ces of the Har­vard Lam­poon, just han­ging around the cam­pus. The Lam­poon was HQ’d in this really curious little buil­ding, that was dona­ted to the college by William Ran­dolph Hearst. Tal­king to the young pre­si­dent of the Lam­poon and some other stu­dent staf­fers, I ask if they knew of Mark and Steve. Very much so, it turns out. Though they gra­dua­ted a decade before, their names were still very much reve­red by folks there. I was told that Mark was off wri­ting novels and plays, and Steve was now wor­king as head wri­ter for David Let­ter­man. Both were living in New York.
So a few days later I pho­ned up the NBC Let­ter­man office, asked for Steve, got put through, intro­du­ced myself, told him who I was and that I was loo­king for Mark etc. We tal­ked for a bit, Steve gave me Mark’s num­ber, I called him up, we tal­ked for a whie, the next time I was in New York we hoo­ked up and hung out; we’ve been friends ever since.

Ten Ques­tions For Mark O’Donnell
1. After years of strug­gling as a clas­sic New York humo­rist, you finally lan­ded your first really big hit: Co-writer of “Hairs­pray, The Musi­cal”, based on the John Waters film. The play won you a Tony Award, it now tours the world and has been made into a movie with John Tra­volta. I remem­ber wri­ting to con­gra­tu­la­ting you, and you wrote back, “And Hairs­pray is like only one per cent of what I’m proud of.” Perhaps, but it’s still pretty impres­sive stuff nonethe­less. I also know you are still living in the same apart­ment you had when you first moved to New York in the late 1970s. Has your life really chan­ged that much since Hairs­pray con­que­red the world?
It hasn’t chan­ged at all, except I now have some secu­rity for my free-lancer old age. I’m cer­tainly not famous, except to my friends. When I wal­ked the red car­pet at the Tony Awards, pho­to­graphers kept asking me to get out of the way. Except one Japa­nese papa­razzo, who said, “Over here, Mr. Den­nehy!” He thought I was Brian Den­nehy.
2. For the bene­fit of gaping­void rea­ders, let’s talk about the remai­ning 99% per­cent of your work. What else have you done that you’re proud of?
I joke that I’m obs­cure in many fields, but I am proud that I’ve published poetry, car­toons, plays, novels, essays and songs, even if I’m not well known as any one of those things. The diver­sity has been ful­fi­lling. That Knopf and The New Yor­ker and Playw­rights Hori­zons, the best in their res­pec­tive are­nas, have spon­so­red me — It makes me feel good, even if it’s our little sec­ret.
3. I remem­ber when your book, Ver­tigo Park came out. Basi­cally, it was a collec­tion of short humor pie­ces. One piece I remem­ber in par­ti­cu­lar, “Marred Bliss”, actually got me to laugh out loud, something that rarely hap­pens when I’m rea­ding. It’s perhaps one of the top ten fun­niest things I have ever read in my life. Once you told me “Marred Bliss” was your “Party Trick”. Care to ela­bo­rate?
Basi­cally, it’s cha­rac­ters tal­king in revea­ling Freu­dian slips: “I heard you were engor­ged, and I just slop­ped by to pave my regrets.” “Where is the strong, sta­bled man I’m taking to be alte­red?” It’s very funny, but only for ten minu­tes. It would get wear­ying after that.That’s why I call it a par­lor trick. Also, it’s pro­bably my most pro­du­ced play, brief as it is.
4. You were also one of the first con­tri­bu­tors to SPY, the famous sati­ri­cal maga­zine. What was that like to work for, back in the early days?
It was won­der­ful, because my old Lam­poon friend, Kurt Ander­sen, was the edi­tor, so there was no “fear of teacher.” It was like a sec­ret treehouse. He gene­rously published a lot of my car­toons when other pla­ces weren’t biting, and when SPY became the capi­tal of Hip, it was fun to go to its black-tie par­ties.
5. About a decade ago, I was living in New York when your novel, “Let Nothing You Dis­may” came out. I remem­ber hea­ring you being inter­vie­wed on New York Public Radio about it. One of those “Hey, I know that guy” moments. I really enjo­yed the book. Though I’m straight, I remem­ber really iden­tif­ying with the main cha­rac­ter, a gay, thirty­so­mething Manhat­tan guy whose life, shall we say, is going nowhere fast. The book chro­nic­les his adven­tu­res during New York Christ­mas Holi­days Party Sea­son. He’s a guy who wants the same warm-and-fuzzy stuff we all do, but all he seems to have to show for his years living in “The Grea­test City In The World” is unde­rem­ploy­ment, lone­li­ness and alie­na­tion. You’re gay your­self, and as I’ve known you for a while, I did see some auto­bio­graphy embed­ded in the story, howe­ver I didn’t see this book as “gay fic­tion”. There was something to it that cap­tu­red the quin­tes­sen­tial New York expe­rience that trans­cends sex or sexua­lity– the high emo­tio­nal price you pay for living there. You’ve lived in New York for over three deca­des, and I’m gues­sing, like all New Yor­kers, you will have had plenty of pain­ful, per­so­nal expe­rien­ces simi­lar to the main cha­rac­ter. Was wri­ting this book your way of wor­king through those expe­rien­ces?

GETTING OVER HOMER
was my per­so­nal working-through-heartbreak novel. LET NOTHING YOU DISMAY is sheer ima­gi­na­tive spe­cu­la­tion: the hero is five two, and I’m six two in height. I got the idea one Christ­mas sea­son, when I went to two radi­cally dif­fe­rent par­ties in one day — an off-Broadway theatre’s, which had potato chips and wine in a box, and FORBES Magazine’s party, which had a live orches­tra, tuxe­doed wai­ters with hot hors d’oeuvres, and a glit­te­ring buf­fet. I thought you could paint a pic­ture of all man­kind in just a few stro­kes if you did it right. Also, the main cha­rac­ter, because he’s short, aspi­res to higher things.
6. I remem­ber mee­ting your twin brother, Steve, when he came up to the sum­mer camp in New Hampshire to visit you for a few days. I remem­ber seeing him wea­ring a tweed jac­ket, tie and slacks, and thin­king, “Why is Mark all dres­sed up?” You guys were extre­mely iden­ti­cal in the twin depart­ment. And then yes, soon after you both gra­dua­ted from Har­vard and got jobs wri­ting funny stuff for a living. Steve had his first big break wri­ting for David Let­ter­man [before that he wrote funny lines for a gree­ting card com­pany]. Though you both have had nothing but love and mutual res­pect for each other over the years, your career took lon­ger than Steve’s to reach the big time. Was that dif­fi­cult for you, or did it not really mat­ter?
We’ve never been com­pe­ti­tors, we’re collea­gues. His suc­cess is mine and vice versa. Does one doc­tor resent it when another doc­tor saves a life? Actually, it’s been up and down for us both, so no one’s ever “ahead.” We each believe in the other’s fun­ni­ness, so the outside world’s res­ponse is beside the point.
7. Your humor, car­toons, and poetry have appea­red in The New Yor­ker, Spy, Atlan­tic Monthly, the New York Times Maga­zine, you’ve published books, and your plays have been pro­du­ced both on and off Broad­way. I know you had a brief stint wri­ting TV for Satur­day Night Live, but if I were to sum up your oeuvre in three words, it would be “The Prin­ted Page”. Your bother, howe­ver, opted for tele­vi­sion, not just with Let­ter­man, but also folk like Chris Rock and Sein­feld. I’m gues­sing you’re talen­ted enough to have also gone down that road, had it appea­led to you. But I’m gues­sing it didn’t. Thoughts?
I did write for SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE, and wrote assor­ted scripts that never got made. I’m a bit more boo­kish, I guess. Steve has thri­ved in TV, whe­reas I pre­fe­rred books and plays. I joke that he’s the world’s most artis­tic comic and I’m the world’s most comic artist.
8. Wen you first star­ted get­ting your name around New York, the world wide web didn’t exist. And now it does, very much so. Has the web affec­ted your career? Has it made it har­der? Easier? How has the world chan­ged, from the pers­pec­tive of the industry you’re in?
I’m techno-tarded, so the Web or wha­te­ver hardly affects me. The HAIRSPRAY screen­play had to be filed as an online attached docu­ment, that was, to me, a cha­llenge. I expect I’ll have to handle it even­tually.
9. This story really tic­kled me: After the suc­cess of Hairs­pray, you’re were wor­king on a new John Waters musi­cal, “Cry­Baby”, based on his film. A few months ago I sent you a note, telling you about how my “How To Be Crea­tive” mani­festo was going to be published as a book. I had no idea if you had yet come across it, at that point. And you wrote back, “One of our actors was brow­sing your web­site as we rehear­sed CRYBABY, and was impres­sed I knew you. Qui peut savoir?” It seems to me, that when something you make gets suc­cess­ful [My most con­ser­va­tive esti­mate of how many peo­ple have read HTBC so far: Two million], it really takes on a life of its own. The author pretty much cea­ses to mat­ter. You’ve got the author, you’ve got the piece of work, and sud­denly you’ve got his THIRD THING that the work beco­mes, after it’s been seen and diges­ted by enough peo­ple. Since Hairspray’s suc­cess, have you noti­ced this phe­no­me­non?
Well, there’s a lot of HAIRSPRAY merchan­dise — Bloomingdale’s even did a fashion line — and high school kids everywhhere sing the score, but it was a colla­bo­ra­tion bet­ween six peo­ple, and John Waters is the ulti­mate pro­ge­ni­tor. I don’t take it per­so­nally, as you can with your strip. It’s how peo­ple intro­duce me now, though.

10. As your long-time fan­boy, it’s really gra­tif­ying for me to see your work FINALLY get­ting the recog­ni­tion it deser­ves. But as we both lear­ned the hard way, “It don’t come easy”. Kno­wing what you know now, what advice would you have given your­self, years ago, when you first moved to New York as a young, aspi­ring wri­ter just out of college?

Basi­cally, don’t look down. I didn’t rea­lize that the odds are against the strug­gling artist, but I assume talent, patience and work will vin­di­cate those meant for wha­te­ver the dream may be.
And, as Yeats sug­gests, “Be sec­ret and exult.” Take joy in what you do, even if as yet it goes unseen.
[The “Ten Ques­tions” series archive is here.]

 

May 19, 2008

the trick to new york, revisited

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This is a re-working of a very old car­toon of mine, drawn back in my New York days, which also borrows hea­vily from another New York-era car­toon. Unlike its pre­de­ces­sors, it’s now avai­la­ble in high-resolution, so if you want, you can down­load it and print it out, or wha­te­ver. Rock on.