If Memory Serves: A Conversation With Jamie Hewlett

I flew over to the U.K. four times to attend UKCAC events in Glasgow and London. The last time I attended was with Sarah, David Mazzucchelli and Richmond Lewis. Previously I went on my own, except for one time I was with a former co-worker from Jim Hanley's Universe who managed to invite himself along. We shared a hotel room during the convention and he snored. Very loudly. He also put a blow-up sex doll in my bed, which was "hilarious" to find when I returned to the room.  

These conventions were a lot of fun, and very different experiences from the events I was used to in the States. For one thing, the UK cartoonists didn't sell stuff, by and large. Only the Americans duly sat behind their the tables all day to make money sketching and selling -- at the first show I remember sitting next to a pre-superstar Adam Hughes (I remember watching him draw Star Trek cast members from the original series, amazed and jealous at his ability to capture likenesses), with Pete Bagge nearby, as well as Darick Robertson and Dan Brereton. Darick, Dan and I bummed around most of the time during the con. Afterward I spent time crashing at Frank Plowright's flat and going sight-seeing and going to second-hand shops (bought my "old man's coat" there, worn and loved for years) buying Irn-Bru and 45 records to take home (overjoyed to find The Slits' "Heard It Through The Grapevine" single for far less than what NYC record shops were asking for it, among a few other things). And drinking a lot. Jeebus, did everyone drink. People drank during the convention, and on panels! That's what most of the UK creators were doing while we were selling stuff (a lot of UK folks started manning the tables much like their U.S. counterparts afterward, from what I understand). I also remember a wonderful dinner with Dave Gibbons and several other folks.  Everything was amazing to me. I spent most of that first trip overwhelmed, it was the first time I had ever traveled outside the country (something which I've since done only a few times, mainly for UCKAC). It was 1991, the beginning of the best decade of my career.

During one UKCAC show I found myself in a men's bathroom in the hotel everyone was staying at, side-by-side with Jamie Hewlett at the urinals. We were both leaning forward heavily against the wall, filled with beer and affected by the heavier gravity that seems to come with inebriation. Jamie started a conversation in that unlikely place by asking me if I had any problems with people thinking all I did was Milk & Cheese. He was worried about only being known for Tank Girl, and being pigeonholed by that. I'm not going to pretend to remember exactly how the conversation went. I do remember it in general, because I admit I felt honored, in a weird way, to have a super popular artist ask for my opinion. Jamie wasn't aloof or anything, not in the least, we had talked and socialized during the UKCAC shows. But it was  a big deal for me to be asked about my own work, and my opinion in regards to his feelings about Tank Girl's popularity. I held Jamie's work in high regard, to put it mildly.

I remember saying two things. One, basically, was that I was happy anyone knew me for anything. If Milk & Cheese was my "hit single" (or "hit club single", more like it), at least I had a hit single. Most folks don't get that far in their chosen artistic field. The other thing was that you couldn't compare the popularity of Milk & Cheese to Tank Girl. Milk & Cheese was a cult item in the States and the U.K. Tank Girl was a bit of a phenomena, the star character and symbol of a newsstand magazine, the rave community, the U.K. music scene, etc. People dressed like the character, cut their hair like her, she was plastered all over flyers, there were look-a-like contests. Tank Girl was a "thing" practically guaranteed of getting a movie deal. She was a cartoon superstar. I wouldn't know what it was like to be a part of that. 

I didn't say it in those words, obviously. We finished our business and fairly soon after finished the conversation. It was a sobering talk to have an out-of-the-blue, one-on-one with a superstar cartoonist who I was a huge fan of. The entire time I knew how nutty it was to be talking with Jamie Hewlett in the men's room about Tank Girl and Milk & Cheese and careers and comics and stuff. Kind of unreal.

Of course, Jamie didn't have anything to worry about, as he's a become a world-famous artist known for Gorillaz, on top of his work with Alan Martin on Tank Girl and his gallery/book/design/advertising career. Which is amazing, coming from comics, even in these days of people "transcending" the industry into film and whatnot. No one's had his career and few have had that kind of influence.

I'm grateful for my dance club hit(s).  

Image above: Fireball original art by Jamie Hewlett. Jamie asked to trade a M&C page (which had Milk cosplaying as Tank Girl in a panel) for a Tank Girl page. Would I --? Duh! Double triple duh! It took a year or two for the art to arrive, he sent the Fireball page rather than a Tank Girl page. I liked Fireball a lot (I'd already bought a color Fireball piece he did for the cover of a UCKAC con booklet) and it's a great page, so, I'm not complaining. The fact that he wanted to trade art in the first place was an emotional adrenaline rush. Still, imagine having a Tank Girl page? Wild.