From the arrest of Donald Trump to the ongoing crisis of the NHS, James Whitworth has had the pleasure, and career, of summarising vast amounts of content into a cartoon thousands digest every morning alongside their brekkie:
“I see visual journalism as just another string to the bow. It’s there to offer a different opinion, sometimes even from the editorial line of the paper, but also it’s a shorthand commentary. Historically, people often turn to the cartoons first when they’re looking at a newspaper or online, and this should be easily digestible and get across. You know what your point is as the artist, but often you know a much wider point.”
As an award-winning ‘political cartoonist’, James uses illustrations to deliver satirical commentary on current affairs for a variety of outlets. Over the past 15 years, his work has appeared in Private Eye, Sheffield Star, Jewish Chronicle, and more, making him an experienced head in the difficult world of illustrating.
He not only acknowledges the divisive nature of the profession but in fact welcomes it:
“If no one’s offended, I’ve not done my job.
“You’re not supposed to like it. It’s criticising people. One of the adages about political cartoons is that you always punch up. So basically, you’re attacking politicians and councillors and any hypocrisy; you don’t attack people lower down the level. But the people who get offended are not necessarily the politicians, in fact, and this is an age-old thing with satirical cartoons. They actually want to buy the originals. You can really insult them, and they want you to send them the original, and they will pay good money. It’s more often the people who support that politician or that party who will get upset and offended.
“Now, of course, an offence is, you know, a difficult topic. How offensive can you be? Different cartoonists will push that, but just some people, if you criticise somebody. Some people find that really offensive, but that’s your job.”
How free is a political cartoonist to insert their own beliefs into the art, or is the job more limiting in terms of self-expression?
“Oh, all of them [beliefs].
“They don’t tell me what to draw. I just come up with it.
“You put all of your beliefs, absolutely. I mean, that’s one of the great privileges of being a political cartoonist: it’s you. It’s an opportunity to be angry and to sort of vent, absolutely. You have that blank space where you can express frustration and humour all at once. Mostly if you work for a newspaper, your political views would normally align with that newspaper. I imagine it’s extremely difficult to draw cartoons on a regular basis that you don’t believe in. And that’s probably going to lead to poorer work. So there is a natural match there.”
Henry Moore famously said, ‘To be an artist is to believe in life.’ It’s obvious Mr Moore never had to promote his work on social media. The exposure of social media brings with it a barrage of unfiltered and unrestrained opinions landing at the feet of modern artists:
“Criticism is epidemic. You need hard skin, and I tell people that all the time who are just starting out.”
Have political cartoonists not always faced this sort of criticism?
“It’s gotten worse with social media, 100%. It used to be people running into the editor or then emailing you if they found your email address. But now with social media, it’s so much worse; it’s so direct and personal. For example, being called a paedophile because you criticise Trump.
“I drew a cartoon last year. I mean, I’ve been doing this for 15 years now, yes, but just last year, I did a cartoon when Trump was arrested, and it was three headshots, you know, like when you have your picture taken, yeah, left, right and centre. And underneath it, it just said mug shots, and it got published. It got posted online, and it was all fine until America woke up, and I just had this barrage of emails, one of which said, ‘You are obviously a paedophile’. I mean, you just have to shrug, yeah. You know, I laugh at this point. It’s extreme, but it’s the reality of putting work into the world.
“I’ve been called, well, just every swear word you can think of. I’d be called a pile of festering dog shit, which I thought was quite nice. You just think, Yeah, you don’t like it? Good. You’re not supposed to like it.”
History shows that political cartoons have long been a vital part of free expression and exposing corruption. With political satire having a long history of challenging authority, and in a world where media is increasingly scrutinised, its role is arguably more vital than ever:
“I would say that it is a fantastic career. It’s a privilege to do, but it’s hard work. Just follow your passion.“