THE ART OF JEREMY SMITH
Venues
September 2005

Text Version

THE ART OF JEREMY SMITH

By CHRISTOPHER GRONLUND

Tell us a bit about yourself.

I’m Jeremy Smith, a pizza driver and a cartoonist.

How long have you been drawing?

Ever since I can remember, but as far as seriously–I’d say ten years. I started learning about drawing and taking it seriously when I hit twenty-two.

What’s your earliest memory of drawing?

Preschool. To keep the other kids busy, I used to take paint brushes and dip them in water and paint the fence. That started a fad. It got all the kids. They’d just give us paint brushes and water and throw us up against the preschool. We’d wet the whole thing down and the teachers loved me because that kept us interested for hours. (Laughter) We were painting the thing and all we were doing is wetting it. That’s my earliest memory.

When you were a little kid, what kinds of things did you draw?

Oh, the typical stuff that every kid draws: monsters and cars and the teacher. Making fun of the teacher or whatever kid I didn’t like. I’d play on paper, drawing my own little comics. Superheroes. Things like that.

Time for the obligatory question: Where do you get your ideas?

Since I’ve been delivering pizza for about six years and the strip is about delivering pizza, work in general. I take from life. Most of it’s based on reality.

How has your art evolved over the years?

I think I appreciate being more subtle than overt. I’m a lot quieter with my drawing than when I was younger, when you want to be really loud and flamboyant. You get older and you want to be quiet and subtle and not be so obvious. My stuff’s gotten more professional over time. Slicker.

What was the turning point in your art?

I think in the beginning, I was very insecure. Without having the fundamentals, you mimic everyone around you when you’re not secure with yourself. I think once I learned the fundamentals I was willing to have confidence in myself and go off on my own. I was myself. Once you get the fundamentals down you can build your own little house.

You never went to school for art. What are some of the ways you’ve learned about technique and cartooning?

As far as teaching myself, I probably have the most extensive art library you’re ever going to see. I bought an old correspondence course from the 40s and 50s and that’s been my curriculum. I don’t really see a curriculum in the university; I don’t think anyone’s learning the craft.

This has been a loose timeline I can stick to. It teaches you the fundamentals of drawing, the fundamentals of pen and ink, the fundamentals of storytelling when it comes to cartooning. It’s bare bones.

You look at the people before you and you learn from them. You look at guys like Charles Schulz and George Herriman–you know, all the guys who came before you who are considered geniuses. You can’t help but learn from those guys and be influenced by them. You digest your influences and hopefully come out your own person.

Who are some of your favorite cartoonists?

The ones everyone else looked at: Charles Schulz, of course. No one really appreciates the guy, and he’s like the pinnacle of what everyone’s trying to do. George Herriman, the guy who did Krazy Kat.

As far as alternative cartoonists, guys like Chris Ware and the Acme Novelty Company. Chris Ware is like the Leonardo DaVinci of the medium. You can’t help but take the tools he’s invented and use them and hopefully do something good with them. Dan Clowes with Eightball. All these guys are brilliant–They pushed the medium outward.

Who are some of your favorite non cartoonists?

It goes all over the place; you like them for different reasons. You love the Americana of Norman Rockwell and the idealism behind what he did. Just the sheer craft of the man. He was able to paint virtually anything. Then you have someone like Picasso. You appreciate his stuff for what it is. Van Gogh; the passion behind what he did. You can’t help but see the intensity behind the man and his work. Hell, even Frank Frazetta. I enjoy looking at his stuff still, even though that’s more like a kid’s eye. It’s what you wished you were able to do at sixteen.

How has your view of art changed over the years?

I don’t know how much has changed. I’ve just been exposed to better. You know what’s better when you get older; you know what’s good.

In the beginning, your palette’s so limited because you’re a kid and you only know what’s in front of you. You make the best of it and you say, “Okay, that’s good.” Then you broaden your horizons and realize this guy looked at this guy. You go down the line, see the eventual originator, and you’re like, “Oh my God–this is pure!” This is the guy everyone looked at.

As far as taste, I don’t know how much my tastes have matured, but I think it’s gotten a little bit smarter. I’m not into the obvious anymore. I like subtlety. I’m very into things that are quiet. If I were going to use the analogy of music, I prefer the singer/songwriter versus a big orchestra.

I’m more into anything that’s organic. You feel the artist’s pulse and personality, and anything that has too many people involved–or if it’s too slick and produced–it tends to lose its soul. That’s why I tend to like single creators: they have soul.

How do you view the marriage of art and words in cartooning?

Some people are writers and that’s their gift. Some people are straight artists–visual people. I don’t really think of myself as a writer and artist; I think of myself as finding meaning in moments and being able to articulate them on the page.

I don’t see the world cinematically the way a movie director does; I see it more like highlights, more like a stage. I think that’s why cartooning has lost a lot. The influence of film has killed it and I really feel strongly about not using the panel as a camera.

I’m apprehensive to call it a stage, but that’s where I start out. “This is a stage and these are little personalities on the page. You’re watching their lives and the way they interact and bounce off of each other. You see the meanings behind the interactions.” That’s what I find pleasure in; that’s what I find interesting.

You just be yourself on paper. I’m doing what I want to do versus what other people want. I’m not a comic book illustrator; I’m not a graphic novelist, but I think I’m a sincere cartoonist, in the true sense of the word. I have no interest in illustration, even though I like the applause from it. People genuinely like an illustration, but anyone can do it. If I were to follow my ego, I would go in that direction, but I have absolutely no interest in it. I feel like I’d be living a lie.

What do you like most about cartooning?

It’s like a shot glass: you have four panels and it’s over. I’m not into long narratives. You really have to get your point across as quickly, as simply, and as straight forward as possible. The meaning of the moment right there.
I love the subtlety of the medium. I don’t think it works when it’s loud; it works best when it’s quiet. I think the best cartoonists have always been really quiet. If you look at anything by Charles Schulz, his work is very subtle. If it were music, it would be a sweet or sad tune that was quiet. And that’s what I love about the medium.

It’s not as easy as it looks; it’s actually hard to learn and very few people stick with it. You’re in the minority if you do it well. I think I’m just competent. I’ve reached the point where I can articulate what is in me, whereas five years ago I was someone who couldn’t talk. I didn’t have the words to speak.

What do you like least about cartooning?

The work that goes into it! (Laughter). Until you hit it big, you’re definitely the starving artist. Very few people appreciate it. They don’t appreciate the work that goes into it, but boo-hoo–there are plenty of jobs out there that do well for humanity that no one appreciates until the person’s not there anymore.

I resent that the simplicity of the medium is taken as childlike and people don’t respect it the way they should. If I draw realistically, people can’t wait to clap about it, but to me, that’s easy. In cartooning, you reduce your Id down to the printed page; the Id of various characters in a simple way without any kind of bullshit. To me, to get a character recognizable with just an ellipse, two dots, a nose, and a smiling face and make that character recognizable to somebody in your life, versus drawing it realistically. I just think that takes so much more talent than just being able to draw literally.

How does your dayjob factor into Ropeburn?

(Laughter) You try to find the meanings behind the interactions that you have. The absurdity and importance people place on the mundane amazes me.

You deliver a pizza a couple minutes late and the person tears your head off. You just wanna walk away and say, “I wish my life was as perfect as yours that something so trivial got you so agitated.” But it makes good material.

Religion creeps into your strips, but isn’t an in-your-face thing. How does tempered faith factor into what you do?

My faith is very important to me. You can’t help but want to share it with people, but not in an insulting way. You want to be respectful of other people’s feelings and their faith; I’m not trying to sell anyone. It’s just something I choose to express in my art and I hope people get a kick out of it, or that you find it at least a little rewarding.
I’m not trying to preach God’s word or anything. It all goes back to being subtle. To be loud and dogmatic about your religious beliefs, to me, is the biggest sin of organized religion. All it does is turn people off, especially anyone creative because they tend to be more sensitive than your average person. You can’t scream at people and expect them to listen.

You have other strips that don’t focus on the “Pizza Boy” – do you plan doing other strips for publication?

Definitely. If I don’t, I’ll recycle ideas in a way that I can use them in the pizza delivery strips. I haven’t thought about it yet. I don’t know if I want to keep it all in the delivery universe or if I want to go off and do something separate. I definitely would like to do other stuff.

How does living in Denton affect your art?

The diversity. You have the arts community. You have the religious community. You have the conservative and liberal side by side. You have well-off people and poor people and you deliver to all of them. They all have something in common: they all eat pizza. You can’t help but see the differences in lifestyles and how they treat you. You put all that in your work.

Who are the best tippers?

The working class. People who understand that, “Hey, it’s not your fault you’re five minutes late–you’re really busy.” It’s the working class. They’ve worked hard and you’re all in it together.

Those are the people you talk to and they ask how your night’s going. It’s genuine. They care about you and those are the people you get to the door on time and remember. Not just because they’re good tippers. We don’t forget the bad tippers, either–that’s for sure.

Your coloring really has its own style. Why?

I’m colorblind.

How does being colorblind affect your style?

Well, it definitely simplifies things. I’m lucky enough to have friends who aren’t colorblind so I’m not painting the grass brown. You do the best with what you’ve got. I can only see certain colors, so I make due with them. Some people can see tons of colors, but they don’t do anything with it.

Old and new - what are some of your favorite newspaper strips?

Charles Schulz’s Peanuts. As far as something newer, Mutts. Mutts is really neat, I like the lyrical quality of the strip. Bill Watterson’s Calvin and Hobbes. Far Side. Older strips like George Herriman’s Krazy Kat. I’m just starting to get into Gasoline Alley–I got turned on to that by Chris Ware. That stuff is brilliant. There aren’t that many great strips anymore. They’re pretty stock. If they were food, they’d be stale.

How long does it take you to do a strip? What’s your process?

First I write it and then I sketch it out. It’s a combination of both. I fine tune, here and there. If I need reference material, I get that. As far as how long? About 6-8 hours to knock one out. I always have to get them proofread, of course. Then I draw it out and letter it. I white-out any mistakes and I’m done. That’s pretty much it.

You don’t own a computer. What do you think about the shift to artists using a computer to do their art over the years?

Computers have pros and cons, and I see what a lot of people do with a computer and I think it’s neat. But for what I’m doing, I think it takes away. I think the strength of cartooning is developing your own handwriting, and if you get a computer to do your own handwriting, you lose something. What you want to do is impulsively create, and I think computers gets in the way of that.

A lot of people are lettering with fonts. Lettering’s part of the visual element and personality of a strip. Cartoonists have their own distinctive lettering style that jives with the pictures. When a computer does it, things don’t synch up with the pictures. It doesn’t look right. I’m not an authority. I can say on my end, I don’t use it. I don’t feel comfortable using computers, even though I wouldn’t mind having one. I like doing it the old school way. I’m definitely a hands-on person.

The people who use a computer–you can tell they’re using a computer. The strength of the medium is that you can take a pencil, a pen, and a piece of paper and do something that is pretty magical. And here these guys are saying they have to spend a thousand dollars on to help them out. I don’t know, I’m totally against it.

For coloring, I think it has benefits. You can just click in a color and click it out if you don’t like it.

How’d your recent show at the Jupiter House go?

It went well. The Jupiter House is perfect for what I’m doing. I think Brandon and Shannon are the nicest people in Denton. It was wonderful. I sold prints; I got a licensing agreement with UNT; I’m working with the Art Prostitute guys, Mark and Brian, who Denton’s lucky to have. It’s just a coffee shop on the square and I got a tremendous amount of feedback from it. People were nothing but supportive–I couldn’t have asked for a better reaction.

What’s the hardest thing to draw?

The hardest thing to draw is the thing you don’t want to draw. Stuff you’re not interested in drawing. Things that nature makes are very hard to draw because there’s no formula to it. A tree, people. You can try resorting to a formula, but it looks like you’re drawing from a formula. Those are things that are hard to draw because they have life to them and personality. As far as things I hate drawing: things like buildings and stuff to just make a scene. All that is pretty much construction and technique and you get bored with it. It’s not a challenge.

What do you hope the future holds for you?

I plan on getting a proposal ready for syndication. I’m in Art Prostitute #4 and #5–I have one piece in each issue. I get to see myself in color, which is really gonna be a blast!

I’d also like to teach a cartooning class. If people are interested, they can go ahead and e-mail me. If I can get enough people together, it’ll be a reasonably priced thing. I’d love to teach people the fundamentals of the medium because it is such a hard thing to learn on your own.

What’s your ultimate dream when it comes to your art?

To make a living being a syndicated cartoonist. That’s my goal; that’s all I’m interested in doing. I’m not interested in being a gallery artist. I’m not interested in being a commercial artist. I’m not interested in advertising. I’m not interested in any of that. I want to be a syndicated cartoonist.

I want to be in as many newspapers as I possibly can. I want to be one of the people you read on a daily basis. I enjoy making people laugh and affecting people that way. That’s my gift and I hope to be able to make a living at it.

What or where would you be without art?

(Laughter) I think I’d be in an asylum.

I’d have no way of expressing what’s inside without this, so all I’d do is suffer. If you can’t get that out of you, it’s going to make your life miserable. Whether or not it’s good, bad, or whatever.

I don’t understand why they’re taking arts programs out of schools. You’re gonna have kids who aren’t able to express themselves creatively and they’re gonna do it in violent ways, like picking up a gun instead of just drawing it like I did. I drew my teacher being hanged–I did not do it (laughter).

Any last words?

Always tip your pizza driver!