Frank Pauer’s Interview with Lynn about Len Norris
Frank Pauer asked Lynn for her remembrance of meeting her first cartoonist. This article was meant to be published in the National Cartoonist Society’s “The Cartoon!st” magazine, but Covid prevented its publication. Frank was kind enough to let us print it here.
My comment: This is Frank Pauer's only question. By the time Lynn finishes answering this one question, there is no room for any more questions.
The rest is after the break:
My comment: This is Frank Pauer's only question. By the time Lynn finishes answering this one question, there is no room for any more questions.
The rest is after the break:
The first cartoonist I ever met was Len Norris, editorial cartoonist for the Vancouver Sun. My dad took me to Eaton’s, where Len had set up a drafting table and was actually working as we watched. I was about 8, I guess; old enough to know that this was a big deal! Len was there to promote his books, which my dad collected and kept in pristine condition. My dad was a serious admirer of Len’s work.
Each cartoon was more than an editorial opinion, it was a wonderful glimpse into the lives of Vancouver citizens — especially those living in the anointed heights of West Vancouver. These “terribly British” folks were often shown to have one leg longer than the other — from walking sideways along the steep mountain roads where unaffordable mansions had the best views of the gulf islands and the harbour below. The PGE railway, the rain, the beaches, the bridges, the insides of “terribly British” homes — so many iconic images were part of the incredibly funny and wonderfully irreverent comic art of Len Norris.
My dad taught me to scan Len’s work for the “extras” — the added imagery that made each panel worth studying. In a “terribly British” home, for example, Len would show the occupants in tweeds and brogue shoes, with cups of tea, postulating on the latest downturn in the economy. On the wall might be a painting of a seascape, slightly askew — but the horizon would be in line with the ceiling and floor. There might be a bird cage and inside, the bird’s feet would be seen above the edge of the base of the cage — as if it had been deceased for years. Wallpaper patterns were drawn with the finest of detail as would wainscot and mantle piece. His background as an architect was visible in every building inside and out and the “extras” he placed in every drawing were something to admire, to study and to learn from. In fact, if I ever had a comic art teacher (other than my dad) it was Len Norris!
My comment: In the meantime whatever teachers of Lynn Johnston at the Vancouver School of Art are still alive and reading this are wincing. None of them are mentioned in The Comic Art of Lynn Johnston, but Len Norris gets 3 pages.
When I was 17, I decided to go and meet Len Norris in person. I made an appointment with someone at the Vancouver Sun and had dressed up for the occasion. As I was getting out of the streetcar, I slipped on the cobble stones, fell onto the wet road and tore my dress and my stockings. Embarrassed, I went to the public washroom inside the Sun building to clean up. I didn’t take long, but as I started to walk up the stairs to Mr. Norris’ office, I saw him coming down. Too shy to ask him to stop or to tell him I had an appointment, I continued on up the stairs. He said “Good day” and I answered “Good day” as we passed on the stairway.
My comment: A little rude that Len Norris would not keep an appointment. Nevertheless there are some clues here. First of all is that Lynn called "someone at the Vancouver Sun" and there is no telling what the appointment process was. Was it Lynn saying she would be glad to meet Mr. Norris without getting a response or confirmation? Don't know. Those details are missing. 17 is not exactly Lynn's brightest time period.
On the second floor, I found his office with the door open. I hoped he would come back, but I guess he was not told of the appointment with me and had gone out for lunch. I stood in the doorway, looking at all the things he used as an editorial cartoonist. He had all the things I had. I was sorry to have missed him, but perhaps the chance to just look around his studio was better than talking to him in person.
My comment: There are a couple of problems with this story and the main one is that Lynn was able to identify that Len Norris used the same equipment she did by viewing his office from the hall looking through the door. Either they did not use the same equipment OR Lynn may have gotten a little closer look.
I saw his drafting table and the pens he used. I saw the discarded sketches in his waste basket, his coffee cup, his ink and pens and brushes. There was no magic in the items he used. The magic was Len Norris himself. With this wonderful thought in mind, I knew I could do what Len did ... maybe not as well, maybe not as successfully, but with a little magic and a lot of practice, I knew I could be a cartoonist as well.
My comment: This is a little like when Lynn knew she could be a dental assistant or an airplane pilot because she was exposed to her husband. At least she understands the practice part, even though she would drop out of art school after two years because she believed the teachers there could not teach her anything. The best part is that she includes the coffee cup in his creative process as drawing equipment.
Many years later, when For Better or for Worse had been running long enough to have become a recognized syndicated property, I had the courage to contact Len again. This time I had his personal phone number and I made an appointment to see him at his home.
My comment: Len Norris was a longtime editorial cartoonist for the Canadian newspaper Vancouver Sun from 1950 to 1988. When Lynn was 17 years old, it was 1964, so he was 14 years into his career by then. Len Norris didn’t become a full-time cartoonist until he joined The Vancouver Sun in 1950. Many Norris cartoons were set in Tiddlycove and Ambleside in West Vancouver, where the artist lived. He produced an estimated 8,000 cartoons during his 38 years at The Sun. He officially retired in 1979, but kept producing two cartoons a week until he finally hung up his pen in 1988, at age 75. He died in 1997 at 83, so the limiting factor for the visit is not Len Norris, but Lynn's father, who died in 1990.
I took my dad who was beyond delighted to finally meet his comic art hero in person. We had tea with Len and his wife and we talked about cartoons and materials and deadlines — all the things professional cartoonists talk about. It was great! I then told Len about the day I passed him on the stairwell at the Sun and he looked at me in surprise. “Why in the world didn’t you stop me?” he asked. He couldn’t believe I had been too shy to talk to him.
My comment: There are a few problems here. Lynn took her father and not her mother on this trip. By the time Lynn got her syndicate contract, her parents no longer lived in Vancouver, but were living in Hope, B.C. More important the only reaction we get from the father is he was "beyond delighted". All of the rest of the conversation is cartoonist talk between Lynn and Len. My guess is that while Mervyn would have loved this visit, he is probably only there in Lynn's dreams.
I often wonder what would have happened if I had stopped him on the stairs. I wonder if we’d have been friends; if my life, perhaps might have taken a different direction.
My comment: Does she mean other than going to the most prestigious art school in Vancouver? What does she think, Len Norris might have talked her out of quitting?
In the end, I’ve realized how much he has influenced my work, how much I learned from just being in his studio.
My comment: Those few minutes staring at his studio from the hallway through the door. All that knowledge that Lynn absorbed just from glancing at what pens and pencils Len Norris used.
I tell young artists who visit me, “Just look at the things I use. You have everything I have. The magic comes from you. With a lot of practice and a little magic, anything can happen!”
My comment: She used to say "hard work" and now it is "a lot of practice and a little magic." Is that an acknowledgment of just how lucky she was to have people pushing her work to the right people for her? Not really if she is calling it "magic". As for the young artists, they probably have more than Lynn because a lot of them are computer literate and create art using devices other than pencil and ink.
Lynn Johnston created the syndicated comic strip For Better or for Worse which ran from 1979 until 2007. It continues in reruns and is still carried by more than 1,000 papers. Bored with retirement, she now works as a graphic artist and lives in North Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.
My comment: Graphic artist? What? What about all the fabric stuff? What graphic art has Lynn Johnston done? Also what is this business about stopping in 2007? She stopped the modern strip in 2008 and then did new-runs until 2010. Is she now disavowing the comic strips from 2008-10?
My comment: Graphic artist? What? What about all the fabric stuff? What graphic art has Lynn Johnston done? Also what is this business about stopping in 2007? She stopped the modern strip in 2008 and then did new-runs until 2010. Is she now disavowing the comic strips from 2008-10?