Squidge Magazine: Can you tell us a little about how you started in Illustration?
Simon Wild: I completed an MA in Children’s Book Illustration in 2007 from Cambridge School of Art, and since then I have been propelled forward and been busy ever since.

SM: Your work is very psychedelic and bold. What are your major inspirations?
SW: Travel, film soundtracks, Space, science, The Yellow Submarine, colour and the desire to make a better more colourful world. I like contrast, shape and form. I am inspired by nature’s ability to adapt. I love to tell little stories in my work even if they do not make sense. I love the novels of Douglas Coupland, they are so visual and emotive. Maurice Sendak once said ‘Most illustrators are frustrated writers’ I am also both frustrated and influenced by the fact that I fall into this category.

SM: Which artists are you watching at the moment? Who’s work do you admire?
SW: I am a big fan of Swedish illustrator Linn Olofsdotter. Her use of colour and the real world to tell imaginative stories is wonderful. I also love the colourful compositions of Maya Hayuk, the iconic work of Margaret Kilgallen, and the beautiful universe that belongs to Wilson Hsu.

SM: Can you run through a typical work day for us?
SW: Starts with a cup of tea, quick whizz round the social networks, emailing invoices, replies, etc. If I am working on a commission I need to go into town where there is lots of visual and audio stimulation. Then I come back and begin work. If it’s personal work then I pick from around 5 or so different projects I have running at the same time and continue work on it. Somewhere in the day I always create a piece of work inspired by an album I listen to, and I work on it for no longer than the album’s length.

When the music is finished, so is the work. Most of my time is spent in my studio either making a complete mess or moving the mess from one side of the room to another. And then the cat jumps on the keyboard and I email complete nonsense to people I don’t know very well. In the summer I rescue flies from the studio, and pull faces at the neighbours. When work is quiet in the studio I arrange my memory sticks in the order of purchase, and re-arrange my collection of vintage transformer toys. I have an original Bumblebee I am very proud of. I love my work so my typical work day has been going on for about 3 years now.

SM: And what are your essential ‘tools of the trade’?
SW: Good old paper and pens to start, with some inks thrown in. I jump around a lot in my practice, from drawing, to collage, to digital and screenprint when I can get studio time. My biggest tool is colour, I always seem to be drawn to duck egg blue, orange and hot pink a lot of the time. And of course my Mac, gawd bless Apple!!

SM: So what are you working on at the moment? Any projects we should be
watching out for?
SW: I am just putting together some location work for a trip to NY which will involve visible tweets on giant post it notes. I am currently developing new ideas for children’s books. My first book ‘Fantastical Flying Machines’ is published later this year by Macmillan. I am also working on the Nike 78 project, where 78 creatives have been invited to challenge the function of a pair of Nike’s, for a book and show at the London Design fair in September. I have also been commissioned to create an audio visual piece for this years Big Chill festival, which will include a full 360 degree projection. I am also preparing for some joint and group showswhich will be happening at various points of this year.

SM: You’ve worked for a fair few clients and publications. Which ones stand out the most for you/were most enjoyable?
SW: I would have to say working with Macmillan was a rich and rewarding experience. I was lucky enough to work with a brilliant team, and I think we have created a book which I hope children will really like! I have also enjoyed the projects I created for YCN. I was asked to write a travel blog to document a working trip to Iceland, where I created work for a show called ‘Quiet Voices’ for Tate Britain earlier this year.

You can see more of Simons work at his website, and catch up with him on Twitter.

Amazing, jaw-dropping images from the 19-year old, South Korean Artist Minjae Lee. See his portfolio site here.

Squidge Magazine: How did you get started in design?

Morgan Gibbons: Well I guess you could thank my mum for that, pretty much as soon as I could hold something she’d stick crayons in my hand to keep me quiet. When I was 5 my younger twin brothers were born and I found myself having to keep myself occupied, so I’d sit in my room and draw spaceships and cars for hours.

As I approached my teens Hip Hop and Graffiti were just arriving in the UK from the States and this immediately caught my interest. The manipulation of text in graffiti was so inventive I had to get involved. This is probably where my graphic design skills started proper as I find I’m still using skills I learnt then for work I do now. School was typical with nothing to note apart from being suspended on the last day for tagging up all the toilets and getting caught!

After school I started A Level Art and BTEC Art & Design which I didn’t complete due to personal circumstances, so I started working full-time in restaurants and sports shops and the like – I was 19 at this point. 2 years passed until my step-dad asked if I wanted to take a job at the newspaper printers where he worked. This was 1992 and when my career in graphic design started. I was at the printers for 5 years and this gave me good knowledge of what can and can’t work in print. I meet a lot of designers now that don’t know much about the print process and this shocks me.

After working at the printers in the pre-press department I decided I wanted to learn more about desktop publishing so I worked my way through various companies over the next 10 years to get the relevant skills… newspapers, fashion agencies, internet agencies, creative agencies, marketing and promotion agencies and advertising agencies. I ended up starting my own company and freelancing here and there. This led to SEGA.

SM: Apart from whining about wrong logos and colouring in pictures of Sonic the Hedgehog in-between the lines with blue crayons, what do you do day to day?

MG: Firstly our Head of Creative Services would fill me in on any pressing tasks for the day, and then I’d check over my emails. As we oversee creative for all of Europe and Australia there may be assets to supply or problems to solve from any of the local offices. My role is then divided between hands on creative artworking which usually involves talking an existing piece of artwork for a front of pack or advert and re-purposing it for our European customers, and managing the artworkers in the studio and helping them produce their particular job.

I love what I do as it can be so varied, from designing the logo for a game to making a design for a promotional item such as a T-Shirt to searching through our archive of artwork to find the packaging for an old title that we’re re-releasing on another platform. I’m also responsible for the templates that come in from Microsoft (360 and Games for Windows), Nintendo (Wii and Nintendo DS) and Sony (PlayStation 3 and PSP). I make sure everyone is up to speed on how a title would be produced using them if they’ve changed.

SM: Do you get much creative input in terms of the boxed designs or is it pretty much already set in stone?

MG: It all depends on the title in question. Usually on titles developed in Europe we’ll have more creative freedom. This is not always the case though.

SM: Do you still keep up with your own artwork or is it just a work thing?

MG: I wish I had more time to do my own art but with work and two children it’s not very easy finding the time. Saying that I recently got in touch with some of my graffiti mates on Flickr and that got my creative juices flowing again. Every Sunday morning my daughters and I sit down and do some drawing together, I can practice my graffiti skills and get to teach them as well.

SM: When was the last time you went out to bomb up Brentford?

MG: That’s wishful thinking; I gave up illegal graffiti activity almost 20 years ago!

Carlton Hibbert is a designer, illustrator and art editor for WPT Poker: Official World Poker Tour magazine.  His clients include EMI Parlophone, Dorling Kindersley and Future Publishing.  He also was (briefly) the drummer for Mansun.

Squidge Magazine: How did you get into illustration and design?

Carlton Hibbert: I was always a bit of a doodler as a child and spent many a rainy day creating a mess (whenever I wasn’t kicking a ball). Like so many other kids, Tony Hart was a great inspiration to me. However at school I never really got into art, it seemed too stuffy. It wasn’t until my O Levels (that ages me a bit!) that I rediscovered my love of putting pen to paper. I did a short course in graphics and suddenly all my other subjects paled in comparison. When I got to A level stage I realised that becoming an engineer wasn’t really what I wanted to do. I dropped out of Physics, messed about in Maths and concentrated on my design. I hadn’t really planned what I was going to do but found myself suddenly doing a degree at the London College of Printing (as it was known then).

SM: You’re responsible for the Patterns for Colouring blog, how did that come around?

CH: This is a project that harks back to when I first messed about with pencils, pens and paints. As a little lad I used to beg my mum to buy me colouring books. The ones that fascinated me most were the pattern books by Altair – I think you can find some of the original seventies versions on Amazon. These books where full of geometric shapes. The blog is basically a huge nostalgia trip for myself, as well as hopefully being something that will inspire other youngsters to become more creative.

I’ve not made the site too complicated – just download, print out and start colouring. I’m not sure you’d get the same experience if the patterns were in a Flash interface and you coloured them online. I’ve got a couple of young sons that need entertaining on rainy days, and they usually end up grabbing the Wii, arguing over what game to play. The patterns are an attempt to get them away from computers and TV and give them an alternative way to spend their free time.

SM: You’re in the enviable position of being able to commission yourself; does that make you a harder taskmaster?  One of my friends called you a lucky bastard for being able to do it.

CH: Heh, it tends to be a case of “needs must” when I do an illustration for myself! I never take on a brief in my own mags if I have a budget that allows me to commission others. It’s always much easier to critique someone else’s work and this is the way I prefer to work. However, once in a while, you find yourself as a designer looking at an article that is screaming for a decent image but you’ve got no money left in the coffers. It’s then that I get the digital crayons out. I much prefer doing images for other clients, I like to get paid!

SM: A lot of your illustration is quite distinct in that it’s quite bold and functional, is this because of your background as an art editor?  How does it affect your approach when working on a picture?

CH: You’re probably right. I tend to think as a designer first. I try to think of the image in the context of the mag and what other furniture might be on the page. When I commission other illustrators I’ll supply them with a PDF of the layout and show them where their image will go, try to give them some idea of where the gutter might be, whether its a right hand page or not, will there be a headline overlapping etc.

The style of my work is probably down to time constraints more than anything. If illustration was my main role I would definitely work on creating a more robust style. My main concern is in getting the subject matter across to the reader without distracting them.

Design by Carlton Hibbert, illustration by Sean Rodwell

Design by Carlton Hibbert, illustration by Paul Insect

SM: Did you start out as a designer and then move into being an art editor or was it part of a do all job?

CH: I started out in non-fiction books as a designer. I worked for Dorling Kindersley on the Eyewitness titles for children. Art editor is just a fancy name for a designer that’s been promoted. It means different things in different companies. Some companies say art editor others use art director – I just find saying you’re a designer is easier to explain. I moved from books to multimedia and then back into print on magazines. I think these days you’re expected to be capable of moving seamlessly from print to web to legal to marketing, the list rolls on!

SM: Have you ever got in contact with anyone from Mansun? [Carlton drummed on Egg Shaped Fred and Take It Easy Chicken until being turfed out in 96 for throwing a pineapple at guitarist Dominic Chad.]

CH: Paul Draper and myself are still in touch, we’re old school friends. I’m not sure if the others still talk. Mansun was a great experience, but luckily I had design to fall back on!

You can see Carlton Hibberts portfolios here and here.

Squidge Magazine: Can you give us a brief overview of your background?  How did you get started?

Cory Godbey: There’s a story I’ve told a few times is that when I was in kindergarten we had a little project where we had to draw what we wanted to be when we grew up.  I had no idea what I wanted so I just started drawing.  I ended up drawing a policeman with one of those old hats, the ones with the badge on the front.  I distinctly remember setting my pencil down and thinking, “Man, that’s a good looking hat!”

After that my abiding memory of school was doodling in my books, looking up, not knowing what was going on, and then getting back to doodling.  I never played sports much or anything like that, I just liked to draw.  From there I went on like most people interested in drawing, I took art classes in high school and majored in art in college. Drawing/not paying attention during required activities (like most classes) I believe was fundamental in my artistic development.

SM: Your day job is at Portland Studios – can you run us through what a typical workday is like?

CG: It’s pretty low key; we don’t have a chimp in a diaper running around on a scooter or anything like that. Mostly involves all of us keeping our heads down and working.  If Photoshop crashes there’s usually the ringing sounds of fists flying through desks.  But otherwise low-key.

SM: You’ve just finished working on the Maurice Sendak tribute Terrible Yellow Eyes, what was that like putting together?

CG: It really fulfilled this desire I’d had for a long time to do something more than just enjoy “Where the Wild Things Are” — to do what I could to tribute the book.  Maurice Sendak’s stories and picture have done more to influence me than any other artist.  When I (re)discovered his books in college it was a watershed moment; they crystallized for me the stories I want to tell and helped to guide me, artistically.

Ultimately it was more work than I think I was anticipating, keeping up with Terrible Yellow Eyes but it was rewarding to see the project come together every Friday morning. I spent the month of April gathering my contacts, getting artists on board and working on my first few tributes.  From there we hit the ground running on May 1.  The goal all along was two-fold:

1. To tribute the book and express my love for the story and picture and
2. June 10 is Maurice Sendak’s birthday.

This past June was his 81st birthday and I wanted to make, basically, a giant digital birthday card. I was talking with one of my friends, Kazu Kibuishi about the project early on and he told me that his creative director at Scholastic knew Sendak personally and that whenever I felt the project was ready he’d pass it along.  Well! That was pretty exciting, waiting for June 10 felt like waiting for my 6th birthday.  It was a great day for Wild Things.  I could not be more proud of the collection we have put together over on Terrible Yellow Eyes.  The volume of posts per Friday has lightened, but the goal along was Sendak’s birthday so this isn’t really a surprise.  I wanted to create a collection of Wild Things inspired art for us to express our love for the book.  I feel we met that goal and I could not be more pleased with what we all have been able to put together and give back.

SM: Have you had any feedback from Maurice Sendak himself?  Any plans for another similar tribute?

CG: Not exactly, I’ve heard that he’s a pretty reclusive fella, and since he just turned 81 I’m not sure how “online” he might be.  Like I said before, I did have a friend able to get the site to Sendak’s art director and I know he passed it along.  That was back June 10.  Really my goal is fulfilled for the site, to bring together a collection of some of the best work in the world and tribute a book that I love.  It’d be nice to hear something back but at this point my number one goal has been met so I’m pleased.

I’m moving on to other projects now.  For one, this Winter Justin [Gerard, fellow Portland Studio artist] and I are putting together a show based on Greek mythology.

SM: You’re one of a growing number of artists using a blog to show their techniques and process, you seem quite happy with it – what was your thinking behind this?

CG: Ha, well, probably it’s a good way to have more to post about! I don’t think I’ve thought too much about it, actually.  I’ve always admired artists who are open about their work and talk about how they do what they do.

SM: You’re also a very keen writer via your blog, how does help with promoting your work?

CG:  love to write.  I have several books I’m working on and several I’ve finished.  Definitely having a blog is a great way to promote work and helps to give an outlet for doodles and nonsense that might otherwise not see the light of day.  I guess that’s a good thing.

Cory Godbey’s blog is here. Terrible Yellow Eye’s is here and the TYE Exhibition runs at Gallery Nucleus September 19^th until October 6th

David Lyttleton’s angular work is instantly recognisable, with extensive work for most of the UK press including The Guardian, The Times, FT, The Independent, Time Out, NME and the sorely missed Neon.

Squidge Magazine: How did you get yourself started in illustration? Do you still find it difficult to get work or was there a point when it naturally started to come in?

David Lyttleton: I got started in illustration the usual way: made appointments to see magazines in the summer after I finished college, took my folder along, and got work straight away. First commission was for Elle magazine, the first published picture was in the Radio Times.   Moved to London soon after, more folder-showing and commission-getting, and that was that really.

SM: Has the commission/getting work process changed since you started?

DL: The main way commissioning has changed over the years for me is that almost no-one rings anymore. By that, I mean everyone e-mails. Which is fine.  If you want to look for new work, the old ways still apply… go to a massive WH Smith or Tesco and go through all the mags, seeing which has illustration, then write down the names of the art director and send them some stuff in the post. Also, Libraries have a lot of magazines you may not see in shops so that’s a good idea too. Go through illustration annuals and see what the illustrators in there did, and who for… it usually says who the client was. Google them, and send stuff along. Finding out who to approach on newspapers is still as frustratingly difficult as it ever was, as it’s impossible to find names to send to.

SM: What’s your general approach to a brief when you get work in?

DL: I don’t really have ‘an approach’ as such. But I always try to make sure there’s a person in there. I don’t think an illustration looks right if there’re no faces, strangely. And I never crop pictures if I can help it. It just doesn’t feel right! I always do complete bodies on people, no cropping.

And it probably goes without saying, but I’m always trying to get every line right, better than the previous thing I did. That’s always my favourite part, the pencil stage. It’s where there is clear progression, in the lines. That’s where it happens. After that, it’s a bit of painting for some almost-invisible-but-crucial tones then its Photoshop all the way.

SM: Tell us about your Guardian column…

DL: I’ve done a lot for the Guardian over the years, and the other papers. I’ve had regular weekly things on the Sunday Express and the FT too. A weekly spot is a Godsend. Especially in Credit Crunch Britain! I can’t overstate the peace of mind a contract allows. It’s a wonderful job to do, it’s a funny column. It’s quite a fast turnaround, about twenty-four hours (I’m waiting for the copy now as it happens). But when I did a TV review column some years ago, the copy came in the morning, and I had to have it in by the end of the day. That was scary. Never missed a deadline yet though!

So yes, a weekly column is different to the usual irregular ones. I have a few monthly regulars too, which are also most appreciated. But until recently I had several more. But the economy had its dicky-fit, and four, five maybe, all went at once. Not nice. Groan.

SM: You did a lot of work for Select and Neon during their later period in the 90′s, were you given free reign with those?  One that particularly sticks in my mind is one with Schwarzenegger and Stallone having a fight, with a bookie shouting “50 clams on the big kraut”.

DL: I’d forgotten about those magazines, all that stuff seems a lifetime ago.  Neon was quite short-lived, I think, and it wasn’t Select, it was ‘Vox’, a similar magazine that the NME people did. I did a lot for the NME, for years on end.  Until the format and everything changed.  I can’t quite remember what happened, but it sort of fizzled out. I can’t remember that illustration either, although it sounds like (writer) Ian Harrison’s sort of thing. He wrote a strip I did in Neon, he’s a great writer, uniquely funny. He works at Q now, I think.

SM: You worked on Kling Klang Klatch with Ian MacDonald.  What was that like to work on?  It sounds like it was fairly rushed.  Have you fancied working on any other graphic novels?

DL: That graphic novel was right at the start of my career more or less. I didn’t have that much of a fondness for comics really, but it was a great opportunity. But I had to re-invent the way I worked in order to do it, which was fine, but the deadline was horrific. I was doing two pages a day at the end, which seems impossible now. Last week I spent four hours just drawing the thin pencil lines for the Guardian column picture I do every week, trying to get it perfect ( to my eyes ). I think there were some good ideas in KKK, but apart from that, I haven’t got anything good to say about it. I never like looking back at old work if I can help it, and I haven’t looked at that for years. It’d depress me… shoddy, amateur and rushed. In fact, I think I chucked out all the artwork with the recycling some time ago. I did a bit of comics work after, here and there, but didn’t pursue it. Not really me.

SM: How did you find it making the leap from paintings to Photoshop?

DL: The transition from paint to Photoshop was a doddle, it didn’t happen in a contrived way. I got a Mac when I moved out of London for e-mailing stuff in to magazines, just scanning finished paintings in and sending them. Then of course, I started going over all the straight lines to crisp them up, then I started only half-doing paintings and finishing them in Photoshop when I thought of a way to miss out the fiddly airbrush colour stage, then bit by bit they got more and more digital.

But I still draw them out on A2 stretched boards, and do a little bit of sort of black and white tonal painting before I scan them in. I don’t want to ever get rid of that stage, it’s crucial. Especially the pencil drawing part, that’s like a signature I reckon. It’s where the work progresses, in the line, and the immediacy of hand/pencil/paper is crucial to that. I think the way I do the painted tone element too is an indispensable part, although it’s barely visible these days. It’s a funny painting technique that has evolved since college days. I prime the paper with a thin acrylic wash, then paint the whole thing with a mixture of three colours of gouache, and lift the not-waterproof gouache back off the waterproof acrylic with a wet brush to get light tones. Then it’s scanned in. It sounds pedantic too, but I can only use one type of paper, and one type of acrylic base. Others don’t work. Don’t know why I’m telling you all this, you didn’t ask, but I’ve typed it now!

SM: Just to clarify – you’re not the David Lyttleton that up pops in modelling listings for Beatrix Potter figurines are you?

DL: I’m not that David Lyttleton, no, but I know who you mean. Eerily, I’m from, and now live back in North Staffordshire where the Pottery industry is.. er, was.. so it’s a double co-incidence. Curious indeed

Steve Tillotson is the creator of Banal Pig, a series of comics that mixes the banal tedium of every day life with dick jokes and relentless jollity. Our newest contributor, Ed Clews, dropped him a line to talk about his work…

Squidge Magazine: Can you tell us about your background, how did you get started?

Steve Tillotson: I trained as an artist without really thinking about it. I was good at drawing and didn’t have a better idea at the time. I did a BA Hons in Fine Art for Design at Batley School of Art and Design, (that’s near Leeds, southerners) which was a really enjoyable experience, and on the back of that I went straight to the Royal College of Art to do a two year Masters in Printmaking. Again, a great experience, and you get to rub shoulders with all these rich and famous artists, but it kind of convinces you there’s a pot of gold at the end of it, in reality it’s a bit different. There’s so many people trying to be artists in London, it’s difficult to stand out and make a name for yourself.

I tried for a few years, but started to get really jaded and was really poor from paying back student loans, so my partner and I decided to try something else and we moved to Bristol. It was around this time I started making comics, about 2005, but the idea had been kicking around for a while. It’s much easier to do a nice pen on paper page of a comic than a 2 meter squared painting with enamel paint on rusty steel, and I’ve stuck with it really. Four years later, and I’ve churned out about 13 comics, and I find that the medium is the best vehicle for my ideas, and probably will be for a while.

SM: How did you start out trying to be an artist in London?

ST: I got a few offers and contacts from my Masters show at the Royal College of Art, and tried to follow them through as much as I could. I did alright as well, sold a few grand’s worth of paintings that kept me going for a bit. Along with a few of my fellow students, we organised some group shows, which were good, but didn’t get much attention. I always enjoyed making artwork and the social life in London, but it soon got to a point where it was costing a lot of time and money to do it, for no real reward. I was stuck in a rut really, I was working less to try to make more artwork, but earning less as a result and as I had to pay off my hefty loan, I was only earning just enough to cover my outgoings. The bottom line was it was too expensive a hobby, and I needed to do things in a different way, hence the comics and the move to Bristol.

SM: Is there any particular reason you moved to Bristol? Also, is there a scene specific to Bristol compared to say somewhere like London, Manchester or Leeds?

ST: We chose Bristol on a whim really – it seemed like a good arty town, not too massive, and it’s worked out well for us. There’s quite a few people in Bristol who I’ve met through comics, and there used to be a quite a well-attended comics forum, organised through the Bristol travelling man shop. This sadly closed down a few years ago now, but I’m still friends with a lot of the people involved.

From what I understand, there are bits and pieces going on in London, but I think it’s a big old place, and too varied to have what can be described as a unified scene. I know there’s a lot of good creators based in Brighton, and there is the Manchester Comics Collective, and I don’t know much about Leeds, but I think there’s a few people that meet up for the “drink and draw” events. With the internet though, it’s quite easy to keep in touch with people from all over, even collaborate on things without ever meeting. This might be a bit impersonal and antisocial, but it’s practical and quite efficient.

SM: There some obvious influences in your work of Viz, Oink, The Beano/Dandy – bits of Glenn Baxter seem to factor in as well. Are there any others that you particularly like?

ST: Yes, spot on. I was brought up with British comics, all that stuff; Whizzer and Chips, Buster, Nipper, anything going. I vaguely remember Oink and how it was a bit rude and controversial, and everyone likes that stuff when they’re a kid don’t they? I don’t think I’ve ever bought a copy of Viz, but I’ll always read it if it’s about, and you’ve got to hand it to those guys for doing it for so long. I’ve not actually looked at any of those comics as visual cues, if you have a look at Lickle Bastard, which is pretty obviously a Dennis the Menace pastiche, it looks nothing like him really, just the bits that I could remember, the mad hair, big boots and Gnasher and that, and I just stuck it all in there.

I’d never thought about making comics myself though until saw Daniel Clowes’ books, I think David Boring was the first one I spotted in a library, and from I then I gradually got into indie and alternative comics, Chris Ware, Michael Kupperman, Tony Millionaire, Jason but as soon as I saw that first one I thought, “I could do this”.

SM: Some of your strips have absolutely no punchline at all or seem to end with a sigh of resignation, can you explain that a bit?

ST: Does the joke have to be in the punchline? Hopefully the jokes come from the characters, and how they act in a given situation rather than a punchline, and I try to mix the format up a bit. Sometimes the joke is about confounding expectations, and maybe there’s a gap where the joke should be. That said, it’s not always meant to be funny, you might laugh at Incompetent Shark because he’s so pathetic, or you might feel sorry for him. I don’t know really. I try and make something that I find funny, and hope other people appreciate it.

SM: You’ve collaborated on a few things with Gareth Brookes and Jemima Von Schindelberg, how does that work out compared to working on your own?

ST: I met Gareth at the RCA, and we’ve always got on really well. We seem to work well together, and we always bounce ideas off each other. I can’t remember how it first came about, but I was planning a Rupert Bear pastiche with rhyming verses for Banal Pig 1, and he wrote it. He’s written a poem for each Banal Pig comic since, and both the Jolly Bear Summer Specials, as well as contributing story ideas and general comments. He’s really good at writing stuff basically, and I’m glad to have him on board. He makes his own (excellent) comics as well, and we always share a stand at expos and fairs, so we’re sort of business partners in a feeble way.

Jemima Von Schindelberg bought one of my comics and I think she emailed me to say she liked it, and somehow that merged into a story idea, Ethel Sparrowhawk. We then bounced the script back and forth until we were both happy with it, and I drew it. I’m drawing the second one at the moment, written the same way. Otherwise, I’m not keen on drawing other peoples scripts though, it’s hard work if you’re not entirely convinced by the idea, and more importantly, not getting paid for it either.

SM: How do you go about making a comic, and once you’ve got it down how do you get funding for it?  Do you have a regular job?

ST: Alas, yes, I have a boring normal job that pays the bills and buys the comics. That’s OK though, because as making comics is my “hobby”, I’m compelled to do it, and really enjoy it. I’d like an arty job, but because I’m doing something different during the day (I work at the council), it keeps it fresh.

SM: What do you think about the UK small press scene?  Which illustrators are currently catching your eye?

ST: I think the UK small press scene is pretty healthy, and I think there seems to be good new people coming up all the time. The thing I like best about making comics and zines is that they can be totally unique and free from censorship and outside interference, and you don’t get that in a lot of other mediums. You get to take home this little distillation of someone’s personality for a few quid. That’s the ideal anyway, and there’s also a lot of shit out there, but horses for courses and all that. I’ve recently put together an anthology, the second one I’ve done and that features the majority of my favourite artists at the moment, Oliver East, Jim Medway, Dan Locke, Paul O’ Connell, Stephen Collins and the previously mentioned Gareth Brookes, but I’m also a fan of Hugh “Shug” Raine, Scott Jason Smith, and I’ve got to mention Jimi Gherkin, who makes great zine/comics, but also has been instrumental in organising the Alternative Press Festival, and injecting a large dose of energy into the small press scene.

SM: Any advice for people starting out in illustration or comics?

ST: I haven’t the first idea about illustration I’m afraid, I’ve had no formal training in that area, and have only had one random (badly) paid gig doing drawings of stage sets, but it’s basically drawing pictures of things isn’t it? I think you’ve got to find your own style, which only comes with drawing a lot. So do that.

My advice to someone thinking about making comics, or zines or anything like that, is to actually make one. It sounds too obvious to even bother to say, but I’ve seen a lot of people who have loads of ideas knocking about, whether it be stories on their hard drive or a folder full of little drawings. These things are transformed by the simple act of compiling them into a little pamphlet, and suddenly, you’re doing it, you’re a publisher and you can see how it works, and how to make it better next time. Go to expos and fairs and see what other people are doing, see how much people are charging for things and how they make their books. Also, if you like someone’s stuff, let them know, have a chat – it’s good to have friends/ allies for help and advice.

SM: Tell us about the Manly Boys annual.

ST: Manly Boys is the first comic that Gareth and I have done as a 50/50 collaboration. We wanted to do a comic in time for the Web and Mini Comix Thing in March this year, and as time was tight we decided that sharing the workload was a good idea. The theme came from an essay Gareth read by George Orwell about boy’s magazines of the early twentieth century, basically saying how shit they were, and we both thought there was a lot of mileage in those ideas of imperialism, the comparative brutality of  pre-war living in Britain, and a few homoerotic gags.

It’s proved really popular as well, we sold all the copies we brought the first time it was on sale at the Web and Mini Comix Thing, I think because people get the joke straight away, it’s quite accessible. We’re thinking about doing a follow up, Comely Girls, for next year, we’ll see if there’s legs in that idea, but it was really good collaborating with Gareth in that way, and I’m sure we’ll do something again.

You can see more of Steve Tillotson on his blog here. You can buy copies of Banal Pig and other comics here, and rather than binning a load of artwork, Steve is selling them double cheap here.

A short while ago I did a short introduction on Ed Clews, an artist based up in Yorkshire and an old friend of mine from my Uni days in Surrey, and he kindly did us some illustrations on the theme of ‘Squidge’. Now Ed has agreed to become a regular contributor, so I caught up with him as we talked about sly dick jokes, his love of pies and Brian May flavoured pot noodles…

Squidge Magazine: Hi Ed, can you tell the readers a little about yourself, what makes you tick?

Ed Clews: I’ve always drawn things and I like doing it, although I’m very conscious of artists being interviewed always saying “I’ve always been drawing since I was very small” as it comes across as the equivalent of bands being interviewed saying “I’ve always listened to Can/Nick Drake/Joy Division/whatever my parents supposedly listened to”.  Then again, I suppose you’ve got to start somewhere.

I did the usual art subjects at school and college, then went on to do a Packaging Design course at what was then the Surrey Institute of Art, which was the only place that would let me in.  It involved loads of drawing and drafting, so I would crowbar illustrations into all the technical analysis bits and hide dick jokes in the actual labelling – I made a pot noodle knockoff where one of the main ingredients was Brian May.

During all that time, I ended up drawing event posters for the Students’ Union, then worked on the gigs then more bits and ended up there on and off for about 5 ½ years.  I quit a few years ago then moved back to Yorkshire and have worked in all sorts of places since, until I got laid off in November and haven’t worked since.

SM: Can you tell us a little about your work?

EC: Most of my work usually starts out with a once sentence idea that I’ve scribbled down or noted on my mobile.  I carry a notebook around with me and just scribble down anything that comes to mind; 90% of it is utter bollocks and never gets used.  What I’m left with is usually some sort of joke or situation that I can draw out either in pen or direct into Photoshop, it doesn’t really matter which.

SM: Cool. Would you say you gave a certain ‘style’? Is it possible to label it in that way?

EC: I suppose the way I’m currently drawing has developed over the last two years or so, it’s quite textured and cartoony although if I see an aspect of another style I like I’ll give that a try as well – it usually merges into something nice and tangential.  Some of the stuff can be quite quick and flippant, others I can spend a day or so on just dicking around with the background.

SM: Do you have any major inspirations from the art world?

EC: I liked Great Pop Things when it was in the back of the NME.  I read bucket loads of stuff; newspapers, books, anything online and usually see if they spark ideas off.

I also tend to read lots of artists blogs.  There’s been a massive explosion of them in the past few years and some of them have really gone at it with gusto.  There’s a whole range as well, from people who work on feature films like matte painters, fashion designers and the like to someone who makes pottery mice and sticks it online.  B3ta is always worth a look as its people just doing it for a laugh, never mind whether it looks cack handed or not.  Plus they always appreciate a dick joke on there.

SM: Pie or Cake? Discuss…

EC: Pie will always win over cake for me, although I do like a nice Eccles cake.  I’m spoilt for choice here as you still get proper butchers making their own pies around here – a meat and tater from the Crag goes down a treat.  I started a pie blog with some friends after a meeting of minds in the pub but its sort of ground to a halt.  I think we’re too busy stuffing our faces to actually write about it.

Awesome. Hopefully you all now know a little bit more about how Ed ticks, which is good, as his first contribution will be up shortly. Until then, you can check out his portfolio here.