Here at the Bloghorn we’re always ready to applaud when people do something different with cartoons and comics, and the exhibition Hypercomics, which is at the Pump House Gallery in Battersea, London, appears to do just that.

Subtitled The Shape of Comics to Come, it runs until September 26 and features work on four floors by Adam Dant, Dave McKean and Warren Pleece, above, and Daniel Merlin Goodbrey, below.

The show, we are told, “will explode the narratives in their work from the printed page into the gallery space and beyond”. We’re also told that it “uses the building’s unusual architecture to weave a story whose outcome depends upon how visitors interact and move through the space”.

If any of that sounds confusing, it probably indicates that the show should be experienced, rather than written about. And as the curator of the show is the comics expert Paul Gravett, who usually has his finger on the pulse, it’s sure to be nothing less than intriguing.

Accompanying the exhibition will be a programme of screenings, talks, workshops and events. The newly refurbished Pump House Gallery is in the rather marvellous Battersea Park, so make a day of it and take a picnic! For more information, visit the Pump House Gallery website.

Copyright Greaves & Thomas/McGill Archive

That saucy old salt Donald McGill continues to cause a stir, nearly 50 years after his death. For the first time, the full collection of 21 postcards which were banned after an Obscene Publications Act witch-hunt in 1953, have gone on display.

They can be seen in the perfectly appropriate seaside surroundings of the recently opened Donald McGill Museum and Archive in Ryde on the Isle of Wight.

There is little option for the modern mind but to see them as cliché-ridden, pre-feminist, pre-60s snapshots of the suppressed British libido. But the sexual innuendo still has resonance. Despite the 60s and beyond, many of us Brits still have a “policeman inside all our heads” and the simple rudeness is appealing. Why do we still laugh at them? Well, because they’re funny.

Even George Orwell was a fan. A short essay of his (“The Art of Donald McGill”) in 1941, written at the height of Britain’s isolation, flattered McGill’s egregious talent and his essential Britishness, but Orwell the Old Etonian couldn’t help but warn readers that the “first impression is of overpowering vulgarity”.

Orwell points out that the viewpoint in McGill’s postcards is essentially safe and conservative – that of the aspirational working class. “They express only one tendency in the human mind, but a tendency which is always there and will find its own outlet, like water. On the whole, human beings want to be good, but not too good, and not quite all the time.”

Where the cartoonist’s view might differ from Orwell’s is that they are not “ill-drawn” – they are rather well drawn cartoon art of a certain period. Certainly better than the dozens of imitators he spawned.

Uh-oh, it looks like Viz has finally achieved respectability in it’s home town, as this week sees the opening of an exhibition of original artwork from the adult comic at the Literary and Philosophical Society of Newcastle upon Tyne (that’s Lit and Phil, for short).

The show, featuring the likes of the Fat Slags and Roger Mellie (the Man on the Telly), above, opens on Thursday, August 12, and runs until September 4. Opening times are Mon-Thurs 10am – 7pm, Friday 10am – 5pm, Saturday 10am – 1pm, and admission is £4, or £2 for members.

There is a series of talks and events to tie in with the exhibition. We particularly like the sound of co-founder Simon Donald’s “How to make yourself popular and successful using gutter language”.

More details at the Lit and Phil website.

Thanks to Pete Dredge for drawing our attention to this.

Bill Stott writes:

Mr Charles Saatchi has given the Nation a large lump of his contemporary art collection, and a gallery to keep it in. Can’t say fairer than that.

Sometimes, when we’re told that “the Nation” has stumped up daft money to keep Ravioli’s Temptation of St Botolph from disappearing into a foreign millionaire’s vault, I idly wonder, as a tiny part of the nation, whether I even had an opinion.

I can’t do that about Mr Saatchi’s munificence, though. It’s a gift. Although I do think there are still a few questions floating about. Don’t some of the items in the gifted collection already belong to people?

For example, I could have sworn somebody had bought Tracey Emin’s famous bed. Perhaps they were similarly kind and let it stay in the collection rather than carting it home to make a statement in the atrium, or to upset visiting relatives.

Or maybe they left it because the power of the piece depends on the juxtaposition of the objects within it (an art critic told me that, so it must be true). It would be expensive to keep having Trace pop in to rearrange everything after the Help had tidied it up a bit.

And which bits of “the Nation” will appreciate Mr Saatchi’s kindness? Presumably the artistic gurus who tell us what is or isn’t in this year.

Meanwhile, an art-form with a far wider appeal – UK cartooning – stutters along, self-helping as usual. Apart from a few notable, contemporary exceptions, it appears to be regarded by the artistic hierarchy snootily, and from a safe distance.

“What about Rude Britannia?” I hear you cry. Yes, it’s very posh. Lots of fanfare, but curated mainly by whom? There is due deference to Gillray and super stuff from Bell and Scarfe and Rowson … but how little Carl Giles, no Larrys, and how many Bill Tidys? These last drew, observed and commented on the way of the REAL world. And they were funny. That is cartooning’s Achilles heel. No matter how well drawn, coloured, observed a cartoon is, if it makes you laugh its not “Art”.

Good cartooning is as much an art-form as Ms Emin’s bed. And it relies on tiny, feisty outfits like the Cartoon Museum to keep banging on about it. What they could do with a new FREE gallery!

Are you sitting comfortably, children? Then you might like to know that the exhibition Toy Tales: Highlights from Classic British Children’s Animation opens tomorrow (July 7) at the Cartoon Museum in London, and runs until September 5.

The show focuses on some of the most popular animated children’s programmes produced in Britain over the past 50 years, and will feature drawn backgrounds, cut-outs, models, sets, posters, and animation cels from Ivor the Engine – above, by Oliver Postgate and Peter Firmin – Noggin the Nog, The Pogles, The Clangers, Bagpuss, Roobarb, Morph, Danger Mouse, The Snowman, and Famous Fred, below, based on a book by Posy Simmonds (copyright Channel 4).

The exhibition it comes right up to date with Wallace and Gromit, Bob the Builder and Peppa Pig.

These are shows watched by generations, so the exhibition is sure to appeal to children of all ages (that means you too, grown-ups). The exhibition will provide insights into the creative process of animation including scripts, storyboards, preparatory drawings, animators’ notes and “animatics” (rough, early versions) as well as clips from the various programmes. A highlight is sure to be a complete set from Postgate and Firmin’s much-loved The Clangers.

The Cartoon Museum is at 35 Little Russell Street, London, close to the British Museum. It is open Tuesday to Saturday 10.30am-5.30pm and Sunday 12pm-5.30pm (closed Mondays including Bank Holidays).

Visit the Cartoon Museum website

Royston Robertson reviews the Modern Toss exhibition which is at the Maverik Showroom in Shoreditch, East London, and has been extended until July 11.

In the spirit of Modern Toss, I should probably just say that this show is f***ing funny and leave it at that.

To be honest, there’s not much more than that you can say. For one thing, the mean-faced, foul-mouthed characters that populate the Toss cartoons almost deny you to make any deeper analysis. You’d risk looking like a pretentious chump (they wouldn’t say chump).

And for another, really what we have here is a lot of variations on the same gag. The joke goes like this: normal, upstanding member of society says one thing, and Modern Toss character replies with the kind of sweary abuse we all want to come out with in these situations but never do. It’s comedy Tourette’s (in fact, one of the characters takes that as his name).

There are a few pieces outside the usual formula, such as the brilliant Punctuation Networking Event, where punctuation marks chat about their traditional roles and how they’ve changes since texting and the internet, and the self-explanatory Periodic Table of Swearing.

Detail from Punctuation Networking Event

Good fun then, if a bit slight. The artwork on the walls is mainly prints which gives the whole thing a feeling of a shop rather than an exhibition. Still, it is marketed as a “Museum of Shit-Naks”, so as the Drive-By Abuser (pictured, top) might say, “Fair play to them, yeah?”

“What the hell are you wrecking your room for? We own the hotel chain”

Royston Robertson reviews the exhibition Ray Lowry – London Calling which is at the Idea Generation Gallery in East London until July 4.

This show is being promoted largely with artworks created by well-known names as a tribute to the Clash’s London Calling sleeve – a masterful piece of graphic design by Ray Lowry who was the “official war artist” for the band at the time – but it is the work of Lowry himself that is the real heart of the show.

That work can be divided into several sections: his most familiar drawings – cartoons from Punch, Private Eye, NME and the like – often on music and pop culture; a collection of lesser-known artworks, including some abstracts, sketchbook drawings, and even some photography; and reportage drawings of The Clash on tour.

The cartoons are, of course, hilarious. They still work because the absurdities of the rock and roll lifestyle which Lowry pinpoints are still with us today (as indeed are the many of the rockers, though sadly Lowry himself is not). From a cartoonist’s point of view it’s amazing how small so many of them are. With those detailed, inky drawings, I assumed Ray was one of the big canvas guys.

But the standout of the show, for me, were the drawings of the Clash live. They are so coourful, spontaneous and vibrant that you can feel the excitement of the moment in them. They are full of movement, the rapidly moving sticks of drummer Topper Headon, in particular, are brilliantly rendered.

Some of the London Calling tributes are worth a look: there’s a great collage portrait of Lowry by the artist Ian Wright, and there’s a collage by Paul Simonon of The Clash which features a piece of the bass guitar which is smashed in the Pennie Smith photo on that iconic cover. The others are a mixed bag, some not so successful.

In this show Lowry is really a tribute to himself: the rock and roll cartoonist. Go and see this encore.

An exhibition put together by the makers of the cartoon magazine Modern Toss opens at the Maverik Showroom in London tomorrow (June 22).

If you’re not familiar with Modern Toss, it is an adult magazine that divides opinion. To some it’s the cutting edge of dark humour, to others it’s a load of scribbled cartoons that rely too much on swearing. You decide. The magazine also became a Channel 4 comedy, featuring animation and live-action sketches.

This writer finds it a mixed bag, but does enjoy some of the characters, such as Mr Tourette – Master Signwriter (you can guess the usual outcome) and, in particular, the Drive-by Abuser, who zooms around on a moped hurling pointless abuse at things. He criticises traffic lights for their “limited range” and a tree for shedding its leaves (“You gonna clean up that mess, yeah? You want a dustpan and brush?”)

The exhibition, which will feature the Period Table of Swearing and a massive fly sculpture (because the fly is “really under-represented” in art) is organised by Sabotage Times, a web magazine run by the former Loaded editor James Brown. There’s an entertaining interview with the creators of Modern Toss on the site.

The Maverik Showroom is at 68-72 Redchurch Street, Shoreditch. The exhibition runs until July 4.

Left: Drive-By Abuser is now available as an iPhone app!

“A stick of rock, cock?” – the classic saucy postcard by Donald McGill, from Tate Britain’s Rude Britannia exhibition

June looks like being a great month for cartoon shows, with three new exhibitions opening in London.

The big one is Rude Britannia which sees cartoons being let loose in a gallery for “proper art”, namely Tate Britain. It opens on June 9 and runs until September 5.

The exhibition explores British comic art from the 1600s to the present day and puts cartoons alongside a wide array of rude paintings, sculptures, film and photography. Ooer missus, there’s more here.

Then there’s Creations in Bad Faith, a selection of cartoons from New Humanist magazine by PCOer Martin Rowson which is at the Menier Gallery in Southwark from 8-12 June. More details here.

Opening on June 18 is Ray Lowry: London Calling, at the Idea Generation gallery in Shoreditch, which pays tribute to the cartoonist who died last October. Lowry drew for Punch, Private Eye and the NME, and was known as the rock ‘n’ roll cartoonist.

He created the iconic artwork for the Clash album London Calling, and alongside a look at his back catalogue the exhibition will feature contributions from 30 artists paying tribute to that. More details here.

Bloghorn will have more on these shows as they happen. In the meantime, Martin Rowson can be seen talking cartoons with Laurie Taylor on In Confidence tomorrow (June 1) at 10pm on the Sky Arts channel.

UPDATE: Here’s a summer cartoon show we missed: Alex in Love