Welsh artist and illustrator Ralph Steadman, 88, has had not one, but many careers. Known as “the godfather of Gonzo art,” he basically invented the gonzo style alongside his friend Hunter S. Thompson, having collaborated with the writer on Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and in Rolling Stone. One-time Observer illustrator Philip Burke has credited Steadman as a major influence, and indeed, the expressive octogenarian has also, from time to time, lent his talents to this very publication. See our interview with Ethan Hawke for one example of Steadman’s work in our pages or our interview with Steve Buscemi for another.
Even if you don’t know his name, you probably know Ralph Steadman’s work. He’s the trailblazer of a distinctive splattery style that has influenced a whole generation of illustrators. What stands out about Steadman’s ink splatters and splotches is that they come first—he starts by intentionally splattering ink on the page and works the illustration around it. He didn’t always work that way, however. Early splatters were accidental but, as he explained to Observer, he learned to work with them.
“Don’t think about style; just think about drawing honestly, trying to express something about a particular subject, model or whatever it is you are drawing,” he advised. “Style will get in the way.”
Steadman’s work is the subject of a just-opened retrospective at the American University Museum at the Katzen Arts Center, Washington, D.C. Titled “Ralph Steadman: And Another Thing,” the exhibition showcases more than 150 artworks from over half a century of artmaking, with early illustrations, collaborations with Thompson and portraits of authors like Virginia Woolf and George Orwell, and American presidents, from John F. Kennedy to Donald Trump. While he’s probably best known for his political and social commentary, Steadman’s children’s book illustrations are on view, too. Additionally, there’s plenty of ephemera from Steadman’s lengthy career: sketchbooks, photos and handwritten notes that reveal how an artwork is born.
Later this month, “Ralph Steadman: Inkling” will open at the Historic Dockyard Chatham in Kent. We caught up with Steadman, whose business belies his vetustity, to discuss his friendship with Thompson, his love of Aspen and the timeliness of his presidential portrait series.
First, how does it feel to be 88?
Well, you don’t know really from one day to the next. When you get to my age, it’s quite odd. It’s worse than being 99 because I haven’t made it there yet. Are you in Aspen?
I’m in New York City, and it’s crazy here. It’s just crazy-town, like bat country. My neighborhood in Brooklyn is being taken over by crackheads.
No!
Yes, and it’s getting worse. I think we’re going to move to California.
Oh, hell.
I know, just deal with a bunch of airheads. I’ve interviewed you a few times, Ralph, so I’m really excited to speak to you again. I’m happy you’re having this big retrospective in America.
We spoke before?
Yeah, a few years ago.
Was Hunter still around?
Nom but given you collaborated with Hunter S. Thompson on gonzo projects for years, I’m sure exhibiting in America has a certain significance to it?
Well, as Hunter would say: “I’d feel really trapped right now, if I didn’t know I could commit suicide any moment.” Which he did.
It’s unbelievable. When was the last time you were in America?
I went to the Kentucky Derby just before lockdown in 2019.
Like when you went to the Kentucky Derby back when, as part of your first assignment with Hunter? It’s still a chaotic race.
But it’s quite different now, I think. And I think we’ve been changing, too. We have been changed somehow by the invention of the computerized chat phone, you know. I mean it’s amazing to be talking on video right now, isn’t it? And you can see me and hear me right away. It’s extraordinary.
Some of your artwork from the 1960s is in this retrospective, like your cartoons on the unemployment crisis in the U.K. with a group of people lining up for benefits.
I can’t remember being in a queue like that myself, only knowing that they existed. So I don’t know where I drew that from. It’s like the real-life version of the cartoon that I drew—its social commentary.
Do you miss newspapers?
I get one every day.
Okay, so you’re still a subscriber?
You know, it’s called the “I,” and I try to do the crossword most days, but I’m not very good. But I do it.
The media has changed drastically. I used to make a full-time living as a freelance journalist and now, the landscape has just totally changed. What’s your view on the media now?
I don’t think I have one, or if I have one, it changes within seconds.
What can you tell me about where the splatters came from in your artwork? Because that’s kind of your trademark.
There is a splatter, and it doesn’t matter. I do another and tell my mother. Perhaps but my mother’s not.
That’s a poem. There we go.
They’re always an accident, all the time, the splatters. I don’t really know. I’ve done some this morning already signing some books. Splotting things, and I quite like that. I don’t know where it’s going. I’m beginning to feel my age.
That’s not bad, though, right?
No.
I see a lot of significance in your artwork today considering America is at a crossroads, and the election is coming up in November.
Would you vote for Kamala Harris?
I don’t know. I really don’t know.
But I wouldn’t vote for Trump.
There have to be more options.
Yeah, but I don’t know who they are. Really. In the U.K., we have a bit more in terms of options, even though we’ve got two main parties. We do have several options, though you can vote for the monster, raving loony party here if you want to.
So, it’s crazy-town, but it’s kind of always crazy-town. But it’s more interesting than Canada, so…
Is it boring in Canada?
Yeah, I think so. At least people here in America have opinions.
In the exhibition, we’re going to have a whole section of my presidential portraits. I’ve drawn literally every American president, pretty much. My favorite is John F. Kennedy. There is a wall of just presidents. I think it will be interesting to see this series in retrospect. You look back on presidents as Americans are about to vote for the next president.
Did you put Trump in there?
I think I did. It went in after the mugshots of him came out. My portrait of Trump is very blotty. It contrasts with the others.
Who is your favorite president that you’ve drawn?
I quite liked Joe Biden, really, and then I think he started to lose it and not remember anything, but I can’t remember much, either. Your memory starts to go as you age. There’s nothing much you can do about it if you can’t remember. It’s tough.
What do you remember about Hunter S. Thompson?
The things he would say, like “Do you remember the time when you had a weird growth on your chin?” I said, “What weird growth?” And it was a little beard, like a goatee. I suppose I humored him from time to time.
What is your favorite place in America?
Aspen, I think. Hunter lived in Colorado at the Owl Farm. That was amazing. I mean, he had twenty-three acres of land for something like $20,000. We went there in the summer of 2016. We went as a family, and it was touching. It was more affecting than I could have imagined, going there. It’s about knowing how important the friendship was between Hunter and myself.
He wrote in the kitchen, right? It was like his office.
I think when he lived there, he had his typewriter or his computer in the kitchen. He used to type in this stomping kind of way—he always made an effort to type something out. And he would send faxes from his fax machine in the kitchen, too. He would just fax people things. All night. You would come down in the morning, and there would be rolls and rolls of paper on the carpet because he spent all night just faxing.
What else can we see in the “And Another Thing” exhibition?
There’s an entire section about authors, like portraits of authors, and what I think people will find surprising is there’s a big section of children’s work. I’ve illustrated children’s books since 1963.
Do you have any hobbies?
Besides doing the daily crossword, I read an awful lot of books. I just read three books in two weeks. I read a book about Buster Keaton recently.
But do you still draw?
I don’t think I can draw anymore. Well, I can, you know, do certain things, but not detail. It’s difficult to do.
See more of Ralph Steadman’s work at www.ralphsteadman.com.
