There was a time when I was younger, and all the nights and days were long. And every day doing all kinds of creative shit, like a sunflower in the sun. In those happy halcyon days, I used to fancy myself a regular artiste. I kept sketchbooks full of pencil drawings, created my own superhero comic (never finished), and took art classes in high school and college. This was before writing emerged as my real talent and vocational path, and other than some hobbyist digital art I partake it, I’ve left the world of draftsmanship behind.
As I mentioned in my 2020 reminiscence on 7 and The Rise and Fall, I once drew the Madness pyramid pose from the cover of 7 in Mrs. Williams’ high school art class, circa 1984-85. I thought this pencil rendering was lost to the ages, but my mother recently unearthed my old art portfolio. It mostly contained studies from my college course, but I had stashed some high school drawings in there too. And behold, here was my good old Madness sketch – a bit ragged and mildewed around the edges, but still magnificent nearly 40 years later!
I can vividly remember drawing this. Mrs. Williams was a really slack and undemanding art teacher, whose lesson plain was basically assigning us a certain medium (pencils, pastels, charcoals, paint on canvas) and giving us weeks to render whatever subject we chose. No boring still lifes of apples and pears for us! Honestly, I think Mrs. Williams just wanted to keep us Sweathogs under control so she could sneak off and smoke a joint every now and then. I fondly recall my biggest high school crush was in my art class one year, and I sure wish I’d done a figure drawing capturing her beauty one time instead of some pop culture crap… but no way did I have the courage to dare.
Looking at this Madness drawing, you can see the stylized cartoonist form I’d developed as a teenager. My friends gave me grief for drawing eyes as one line and a dot, but I liked to simplify and aim for expression more than realism. I always felt more comfortable working in pencils without the unforgiving ink, relishing the trick of smudging pencil strokes to create varying tones of gray. There are some obvious goofs on display: Mike Barson’s head is too small, and Lee Thompson’s feet fell below the baseline of the rest of the group. Not sure if that happened because I started with Thommo or ended with him.
So yeah, it’s a humble little piece of art history that I’m proud to share with the Stateside Madness community. Just for fun, here’s another artifact recovered from that old art portfolio: my self-portrait as a brooding 14-year-old around the same timeframe, complete with ’80s hair, aviator eyeglasses and Members Only jacket. Yeesh, I’d have to say I did a better job drawing Suggs and the boys, for sure!
Stateside Madness 