By Marian S. Mclellan
Bunny Matthews
The People of New Orleans from A to Z
Arthur Roger Gallery
New Orleans, LA
Bunny Matthews: Zulu, 2014. Pen, ink, and colored pencil on paper, 10 x 8. Arthur Roger Gallery.
“Cartoonists take the salient features of the seemingly mundane which normally escape our attention, and blow them up to larger than life proportions, forcing us to acknowledge their emotive qualities.”
Such are the words of wisdom from a contemporary descendant of an illustrious German cartoonist whose association is mentioned in light of Arthur Roger Gallery’s website introduction for local cartoonist Bunny Matthews. The gallery’s reference to August Sander, apparently Germany’s most important portrait photographer of the early 20th century, supports Matthews’ “The People of New Orleans From A to Z” though Sander’s portraits set out to record a series of photographs for his “People of the 20th Century,” (or “Man of the 20th Century,” depending on the website) part of his 1929 book “Face of Our Time,” a log of the variously employed or unemployed people of Germany, whose initial publication was thwarted by the Nazis.
It seems the people Sander chose to document in his native Westerwald, over the course of several years, just didn’t meet the Nazis’ ideal of what a German should look like. Now, back to the beginning thought of this review as it pertains to cartoons, since, around New Orleans, the name Bunny Matthews is synonymous with the artist’s infamous eighties duo of Vic and Nat’ly Broussard, that endearingly unpolished couple from the Ninth Ward whose pointed commentary continues to this day.
Hence, representing the letters ‘V’ is loudmouth Vic, cigarette hanging from his mouth while clutching a drink, while the letter ‘N’ features dawlin’ Nat’ly wid her stylish, up-turned specs and Saturn earrings. Even in the pristine setting of a gallery, there’s no keeping those two sedate. In fact, though measuring only lO”x 8,” the twenty-six delicately colored pen, ink, and colored pencil drawings depict the larger than life characters who do indeed give New Orleans its uncouth charm. Matthews’ artist’s statement avows that “The People Of New Orleans is my tribute to the human beings who make New Orleans the utterly unique place that it is.”
Bunny Matthews: Priest, 2014. Pen, ink, and colored pencil on paper, 10 x 8. Arthur Roger Gallery.
And so, ageless and eloquent, Vic and Nat’ly may be New Orleans’ most recognizable locals, and certainly two of the most outspoken, still gracing Leidenheimer bakery vehicles, as well as the walls of the Audubon Zoo and Aquarium of the Americas. And they’re not even real people. They’re cartoons. But in the land of make-believe, anything is possible, and besides, what defines real? Is a photograph or a video more genuine than a cartoon? Or is a cartoon the more true to life, peeling away the visible veneer and presenting life as it really is?
When we think of 19th century satirists Daumier or Goya whose cartoons said it like it was, or venture into the 21st century to view Robert Crumb’s reality of life, we know we’re getting the real deal, unpolished, unedited, not quite ready for prime time viewing.
Cartoons entertain the imagination and unite to reveal the essentials and bridge the gap between text and thought, thus placing the genre in the realm of art, where all of life comes together, or, in the case of Bunny Matthews, where all of local life collides.
What would New Orleans be without such service-based trades as “Whore,” “Ecdysiast,” and “Priest,” all flaunting their wares to benefit our souls? Fittingly, the priest in purple robe looks anything but holy, while the whore and ecdysiast come right out with what they are selling. “Fisherman” and “Tomato Vendor” display their goods with wicked grins as the uncomfortable “Yankee” drips sweat.
Bunny Matthews’ “The People of New Orleans From A to Z” presents a jocular and timeless view of the ordinary people who keep New Orleans real, and serves up an alphabet soup that will delight all palates.