2014年7月2日 星期三

Charles Barsotti 1933-2014 《紐約客》漫畫家

為《紐約客》創作四十載的漫畫家去世

《紐約客》長期漫畫師查爾斯·巴索迪。
C. Michael Barsotti
《紐約客》長期漫畫師查爾斯·巴索迪。
40多年來,《紐約客》的漫畫家查爾斯·巴索迪(Charles Barsotti)筆下疲憊的狗、無法無天的蝸牛和遲鈍的君主們帶給讀者們歡笑,周一(此處指6月15日——編注)他於密蘇里州堪薩斯城家中逝世,享年80歲。
他的兒子邁克爾宣布死因是腦癌。
  • 檢視大圖查爾斯·巴索迪的漫畫作品。
    Charles Barsotti/New Yorker Collection
    查爾斯·巴索迪的漫畫作品。
  • 檢視大圖查爾斯·巴索迪的漫畫作品。
    Charles Barsotti/New Yorker Collection
    查爾斯·巴索迪的漫畫作品。
巴索迪讓意大利麵開口講話,還畫過籌劃野餐的熱狗。不管是畫的畫還是寫的字,他筆下的線條都是那麼簡潔清爽。
一個焦慮的男人在天堂門前從雲朵中浮現出來,愉快的聖彼得來迎接他。「不,不,那不是什麼罪惡,」聖彼得說,「我的天哪,你肯定是操心死的。」
一隻小狗坐在心理醫生的椅子上,對人類病人說:「好吧,我覺得你很棒。」
一個老人拄着拐杖,跟着指示牌的方向走。指示牌上寫着「真理」。這個人其實是在跑步機上。
一大堆貝殼通心粉對着電話說:「螺旋通心粉,你這個瘋狂的傢伙!最近怎麼樣?」
巴索迪的畫中充滿探索者和憂慮者,聰明的人與無情的人,他們脫離了環境,但又恰到好處。他畫出了一個荒謬的宇宙。他的漫畫並不是都有說明。觀者不知道為什麼就會笑起來。
「這是他對於幽默的深刻見解:幽默是一種真理,用絕對的理性是無法解釋的,」《紐約客》的漫畫編輯羅伯特·曼考夫(Robert Mankoff)於本周接受採訪時說,「但這並不會減少它的真實性。」
他補充,「這些意大利麵中有極具想像力的荒謬性。」
查爾斯·布拉納姆·巴索迪(Charles Branum Barsotti)於1933年9月28日生於得克薩斯州聖馬可,在聖安托尼奧長大。
「在學校里,我總是,總是因為亂塗亂畫惹麻煩,但爸爸媽媽很支持我,」2000年,他在接受《得克薩斯月刊》(Texas Monthly)採訪時說。十三四歲的時候,他說,媽媽送他到聖安東尼奧市區的藝術中心拉維利塔上藝術課。「我從裸體藝術開始畫,」他說,「在我那個年紀,這可是個震撼,感覺就是『天哪,這女人沒穿衣服!』我快嚇死了,但我在學校里當了好幾天的大英雄。」
1955年,他從西南得克薩斯州州立大學畢業,專業是社會科學,之後參軍兩年,又在殘疾人住房福利機構當了幾年主管。20世紀60年代初,他在堪薩斯城得到一份為霍馬克公司畫賀卡的工作,還一直悄悄接畫漫畫的兼職。1962年,他的漫畫首次被《紐約客》接受。
20世紀60年代末,他搬到紐約,成了《周六晚郵報》(Saturday Evening Post)的漫畫編輯,直到該報於1969年倒閉。翌年他成了《紐約客》的專職漫畫師。
他在《紐約客》上發表了大約1400張漫畫作品,還有更多作品發表在《大西洋月刊》、《紐約時報》等地。他的作品合集包括《他們動了我的碗》(The Moved My Bowl)專門收錄他創作的跟狗有關的漫畫,此外還有《查爾斯·巴索迪精選》(The Essential Charles Barsotti)。除了兒子,他尚在世的親人還有妻子羅默斯(Ramoth),四個女兒凱莉·斯科特(Kerry Scott)、溫迪·巴索迪(Wendy Barsotti)、蘇珊·伍德沃德(Susan Woodward)和簡·巴索迪(Jean Barsotti);以及三個孫輩和姊妹安·阿爾曼特魯特(Ann Armentrout)。
巴索迪的很多漫畫是永恆的,反映了人性中普遍的小弱點,但它們也可以反映時代。他有一幅著名的漫畫,畫的是一隻穿西裝的小狗與對一隻身穿皺巴巴的衣服、高大疲憊的老狗交談。年輕的小狗帶着權威的架勢說:「我們現在可以用電子的方式玩那些老把戲了。」(借用西方諺語「你不能教會老狗玩新把戲」——譯註)
翻譯:董楠

Charles Barsotti, Cartoonist With Humor Both Simple and Absurd, Dies at 80

The cause was brain cancer, his son, Michael, said.

Mr. Barsotti made pasta talk. He drew hot dogs planning cookouts. His lines were spare and clean, whether drawn or written:
•An anxious-looking man emerges through clouds at heaven’s gate, greeted by an amused St. Peter. “No, no, that’s not a sin, either,” St. Peter says. “My goodness, you must have worried yourself to death.”
• A small dog, seated in a psychiatrist’s chair, talks to a human patient: “Well, I think you’re wonderful.”
• An older man with a walking stick plods in the direction a sign is pointing. The sign says “Truth.” The man is on a treadmill.
• A gregarious piece of rigatoni talks into a telephone: “Fusilli, you crazy bastard! How are you?”
Mr. Barsotti filled his frames with seekers and worriers, the witty and the ruthless, out of context but perfectly placed. He made the universal absurd, the absurd universal. His cartoons did not always have punch lines. You laughed without necessarily knowing why.
“That was sort of his deep comment about humor itself: that humor is a type of truth that strict rationality can’t understand,” Robert Mankoff, the cartoon editor of The New Yorker, said in an interview this week. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”
He added, “There’s just something so imaginatively ridiculous about that piece of pasta.”
Charles Branum Barsotti was born on Sept. 28, 1933, in San Marcos, Tex., and grew up in San Antonio.
“In school I was always, always, always in trouble for doodling, but my mother and dad were very supportive,” he told Texas Monthly in 2000. When he was 13 or 14, he said, his mother sent him to downtown San Antonio to take an art class at La Villita, an arts center. “I drew from a nude,” he said. “At that age it was quite a shock, like, ‘Holy smoke, that woman’s got her clothes off!’ It scared me to death, but I was a big hero in school for a few days.”
After graduating from Southwest Texas State University in 1955 with a major in social sciences, Mr. Barsotti served in the Army for two years, then spent several years working as director of a residential facility for people with developmental disabilities. In the early 1960s, he got a job illustrating greeting cards for Hallmark in Kansas City, all the while drawing freelance cartoons on the side. He sold his first to The New Yorker in 1962.
He moved to New York in the late 1960s and worked as the cartoon editor of The Saturday Evening Post before it folded in 1969. The next year he became a staff cartoonist for The New Yorker.
Almost 1,400 of his cartoons appeared in the magazine, and many more were published in The Atlantic, The New York Times and elsewhere. Among the books of his work are “They Moved My Bowl,” which featured his dog cartoons, and “The Essential Charles Barsotti.” In addition to his son, his survivors include his wife, Ramoth; four daughters, Kerry Scott, Wendy Barsotti, Susan Woodward and Jean Barsotti; three grandchildren; and a sister, Ann Armentrout.
While many of Mr. Barsotti’s cartoons were timeless, playing on universal human foibles, they could also be timely. One well-known cartoon depicts a short young dog in a business suit talking to a tall, weary older dog in wrinkled clothes. The young dog speaks with authority: “We do all those old tricks electronically now.”

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