Donkey & Oliphant

Pat Oliphant, the most widely syndicated cartoonist in the world, is as much an artist as he is an entertainer. In the Australian-born, American-based cartoonist's work, it is apparent that something more than political savvy is at play. The accuracy of his caricatures and the effortlessness with which his cartoons communicate are easy to see when flipping through a newspaper's editorials. But rarely is it noted that Oliphant has an acute sense of aesthetic driving the creation of his cartoons. In this U.Va. Art Museum exhibit, Leadership: Oliphant Cartoons and Sculpture from the Bush Years, we are exposed to some of the artistry hidden by the cynical context of political cartoons.

Oliphant's work is known almost exclusively as a three-by-three-inch square of art sitting within the bowels of a newspaper. This large and varied show throws that perspective askew. Seeing Oliphant's other work, especially his sculptures, is initially disconcerting. The Art Museum exhibit layout maintains the orderly sense of a newspaper, attempting to ease the transition from a tiny box in the New York Times to Oliphant's eight-foot by three-foot charcoal drawings and three-foot bronze sculptures. All of Oliphant's work is politically charged, lending the show cohesiveness automatically.

This consistent attention to politics is interesting, even a little disturbing. Oliphant is obsessed with the leaders in the American political realm. The show's focus is apparent; the entire collection revolves around the development of characters. The slowly growing ears on Bush, the bulbous nose of Clinton, the decrepit creaking old Cheney all seem to slowly morph from a reasonable representation to a laughable, inflated version of the politicians. As the politicians' flaws became more apparent, Oliphant's distortions became more accurate.

It seemed appropriate to observe the cartoons first and then examine the larger and looser drawings and sculptures scattered throughout the exhibit. The walls are plastered with small, jam-packed cartoons. It is obvious that Oliphant has a very artistic grasp on the function of representation in cartooning. His figures relate to their environment and each other in an easy manner; Oliphant's sense of proportion and spatial relationships is phenomenal. With such a limited amount of space and time to intrigue the average, coffee-drinking, morning-newspaper-reading slug, Oliphant must create a piece with enough compositional flow and variety to stop our scanning eyes. His pieces command attention at a distance as well as when closely examined.

Oliphant is a Pulitzer Prize winner because he can create an editorial image that is saturated in a political context, reminding us of our leaders' flaws, and also hang his work in our gallery. His attention to craft is apparent in the smaller cartoons and the larger pieces are no different. Oliphant's manipulation of line and value create vibrant pieces of work. Physical molding and kneading of form and character seems to occur while making wax sculptures of political leaders. The wax is cast into bronze, giving these almost grotesque interpretations of political faces an ironic gleam. Oliphant glorifies the most disgusting caricature of Donald Rumsfeld, wearing a WWI German helmet, in a permanent bronze. This cynical and humorous take on art and politics consumes Oliphant's work.The degree to which politics permeates Oliphant's creations is absurd. It is hard to fathom how often Oliphant sketches George W. Bush's eyebrows or the amount of graphite that has gone into drawing Dick Cheney's evil sneer. Oliphant, we can be sure, will not leave the spotlight along with the outgoing President. As the image of monkey-man Bush and Dr. StrangeRove are slowly erased from our memories, the small box in your newspaper's editorial section will undoubtedly be filled with growing depictions of Obama's ears and Blagojevich's hair. With the dedication of an artist, Oliphant will charge on.