BRANCHING OUT
SABBATICAL IN ROME ENERGIZES SANTA FE POLITICAL CARTOONIST
Sometimes called the Daumier of our time, Patrick Oliphant scraped excess ink from the pen that has lacerated politicians from his closet-sized Santa Fe studio.
He was busy completing the inked portion over a pencil sketch of his latest cartoon –– one of thousands in a lifetime of caricatures.
Due in two hours, this particular offering tackled gun control, with the offending elephant and donkey too busy trying to appease their supporters to make a decision.
“I react in disgust to the NRA,” the Pulitzer Prizewinning Oliphant said, his head crowned in a froth of white curls. “I’m a gun owner and I think there should be registration.”
Oliphant escaped the final fumble of the last presidential
election by flying to Italy, courtesy of the American Academy in Rome, which awarded him a three-month honorary stint as “The Roy Lichtenstein Resident in the Arts.”
“I got so sick of the entire (election) crowd that I wanted to run,” he explained. “It was good to see the final results on a cellphone.”
The results of his Italian sabbatical can be seen in “Patrick Oliphant: A Survey, Selections from Rome and Other Works” opening on Friday, May 10, at the Gerald Peters Gallery. The exhibition will include several Oliphant sculptures, including his piece depicting Obama as an Easter Island figure, as well as two oils and a series of nude drawings.
In Santa Fe, the artist’s slanted white desk sits next to an ink-splattered wall. Its white face is clean with the exception of his tools –– a tape dispenser and a pencil sharpener. A collection of scattered black ink bottles sits atop a tiny chest of drawers that nearly scrapes the side of his leg.
As he turns 78 this year, Oliphant has no intentions of retiring from his thrice-weekly syndicated political cartoon.
“There’s too much to do yet, I think,” he said softly.
Although his more typically political work comprises only a small portion of the exhibition, he still manages to captivate with his startling portraits of typical Romans.
“It’s his uncanny ability to call us out,” said Evan Feldman, administrative director of contemporary art at Gerald Peters.
“The skill involved –– not just in the drawing itself –– but in his composition, absolutely, it is higher art.”
Oliphant had traveled to Rome several times in the past, he said, but never for an extended stay.
This is not the lampooning pen of the most widely syndicated cartoonist in the world. Still, Oliphant can’t help wielding that well-known wit in both commentary and the accompanying titles.
“I like people,” he said. “I don’t like politicians, but I like people.”
In Rome, he gazed out at an expansive view of rooftops from a studio atop the highest hill in the city. It was his first release from daily deadlines in nearly 60 years of newspaper work. He explored the city’s streets and sidewalks, its markets and cafes, primarily in charcoal or conte crayons. Several of the drawings practically spill over with an abundance of meticulously individualized faces and bodies. Oliphant completed 15 finished works on paper.
Despite a ravaged economy, the Romans still manage have fun, he said.
“They don’t speak English,” he deadpanned.
“They seem to enjoy life more than we do,” he explained. “The traffic is terrible and they don’t seem to worry about it. They’ve got a high-speed train. They don’t take their religion so seriously; they keep it in a separate corral. It’s not overbearing.
“They like Americans because they’ve got a lot of relatives here, probably.”
“Crosswalk, 2012” features a gargantuan woman stepping off the curb into the street.
“Most Italians don’t look like this,” Oliphant said. “They’re thin. I think this is probably an American tourist.”
A charcoal drawing of a man rolling a cigarette depicts an activity the artist had not witnessed in “40 or 50 years.”
“I guess it’s coming back because of the economy,” he said.
The facial features abound in razorsharp detail and animated character.
“Old Man in a Market, 2012,” its exaggerated features led by a hooked nose, could be a Dickens character.
“The Big Man, 2012” emerged when the artist spotted a male bloated with self-importance, surrounded by his minions. Oliphant retreated to a safe distance before taking charcoal to paper.
“He looked like this god,” the artist said, “with his (wink, wink) secretary and his sycophants.
“I try to be anonymous when I’m drawing,” he continued. “I’ve got a good memory. Usually I can carry it in my head or do some sketches.”
“Nun: The Lecturer” shows said religious woman waving both her finger and her narrow proboscis at a young woman in jeans.
“Nuns are fun to draw,” Oliphant said. “They look like Zorro and they’ve got these big shoes.”
The exhibition also encompasses the artist’s past work across the 2000s.
In the 2010 oil on canvas “Elevator, 2010” you can almost feel the discomfiting sweaty closeness of the packed chute. Elevator protocol forbids rider eye contact, the artist said.
“They’re all looking at the floor or the top.”
Another oil on canvas, “Kwik Meal, 2009” captures a group of sandwich workers huddled over trays of tomatoes, meats and lettuce inside a van parked on a New York street.
The show also features some classic political work. The current president is always identified by his batwing ears, as in “Obama: An Easter Island Figure, 2009, bronze.”
Then there’s the triad of Bush, Cheney and the nation interpreted in a 2007 bronze depicting Cheney as a rifletoting Humpty Dumpty, the tiny Bush atop a horse and topped by a dunce’s cap.
Of all the politicians Oliphant has characterized, Richard Nixon produced the richest vein.
“It never was such fun as Nixon,” he said. “He’s a natural-born villain.”
Obama has provided less malignant fodder, partly because of his looks, he continued.
“His character is not something you can do much with,” Oliphant said. “He has a pleasant face. He doesn’t register anger or outrage. And we like outrage.”
“What’s good for the cartoonist is not good for the country,” he said. “The same bastards come back –– they just disguise themselves.”