The Cartooning Evolution
PAGES FOR A NEW HISTORY OF POLITICAL CARTOONING IN DENMARK
George Cruikshank, from The Comic Almanack, July 1842.
Rock paper scissors have only two components in cartooning: Whip scissors. The latter is the symbol of censorship, while the whip is the tongue i.e. the drawn line of the cartoonist.
The game is constantly on and the whip must be exercised if it is to strike with precision while keeping the scissors at bay. If only we had the freedom to speak up like the British, the French cartoonist and editor of La Caricature Charles Philipon stated in 1831:
"La Caricature made the influence clear in France which artists have long had in England. The strength of this kind of opposition was unknown before the July Revolution, because censorship, abolished for the printing press, still existed for prints and lithographs. We have therefore revealed this power by striking with a weapon hitherto ignored by the enemies of our freedoms or the deserters and procrastinators of our side".
Britain had freedom of expression. That freedom meant breathing space to develop their skills, whereas Philipon was sentenced and imprisoned six months after the words above for the same line of work as theirs.
He had every reason to be proud of his achievement, however the cost. When we point to the cartooning development in Denmark, which took off a few years later, Philipon and with him names such as Daumier were the first inspiration. They were in turn the whips already on the scene, still testing and trying what was working. So in in the decade leading up to Danish democracy, when so many interested parties in society each made their effort to make it come about, a Danish cartoonist - Peter Klæstrup first and foremost - had a visual language ready at hand.
We rarely mention the British influences in early Danish cartooning, in that the former was already enjoying artistic and critical freedom, while the French was whipping their way through new administrations at the time, bringing fresh inspiration every week.
But cartooning is a living tradition acknowledging those who went before. Klæstrup had two steps on the ladder before him, the British along with the French - with ample possibilities to see their works. Danish merchants sailed grains to the British breweries and being very active in bringing about democracy, they would have brought back dailies and magazines to distribute among friends and acquaintances.
The two present examples are by no means central to the cartooning tradition. That is the whole point in showing them. Instead, they are fine specimens of artistry, the younger of them achieved by studying colleagues of the profession.
Both cartoons portray a dispute without the need for words. Cruikshank's is a tale on heated vs. cold argumentation - this is the heated one, obviously - while the Danish one stages a mutual dance of reverence. Kierkegaard is the one to the right, whose latest work had been lauded in the daily of Trojel to the left. The reviewer was a proselyte of Kierkegaard's and so the critical outcome had been a given.
The Kierkegaard cartoons are a painful chapter - or rather chapters - in Danish cartooning in which the philosopher became an allegory on paper that had nothing to do with his actual person.
Presently, however, let's focus on the two dances of stepping forward and reaching back mirroring the opponent, while diagonal lines run the length of each limb to accentuate the position of it. They have hardly any contact with the ground being too focused on the other party. Trojel is bending fully backwards in the ultimate reverence. Both dances are three dimensional in character and could instantly be transformed into a sculpture.
The lower right corner of the Klæstrup one shows the limit of the block onto which they were carved. This is artistic flair knowing exactly how to make use of every millimeter to tell the story. His couple is placed in a void with no pretense of naturalism.
20 years later Manet would shock the art world doing that very thing.
Peter Klæstrup for Corsaren (post-Goldschmidt), January 7, 1848:
"A theological tarantella with castanets".
