Paul Sahre - Two-Dimensional Man: A Graphic Memoir

For Moe

Copyright 2017 Paul Sahre

Published in 2017 by Abrams Press, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016945921

ISBN: 978-1-4197-2415-2
eISBN: 978-1-6833-5001-9

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PART I
(Chaos)

PART II
(Order)

PART III
(Entropy)

I have used the title A Designer and His Problems for lectures Ive given over the past twenty-five yearseverywhere from Dayton, Ohio, to Cape Town, South Africa. It was going to be the title of this book until someone reminded me where I originally lifted it from: The Graphic Artist and His Design Problems (1973), by the late, great Josef Mller-Brockmann.

Even though I changed the title in time for publication, I would like to take this opportunity to formally apologize for any confusion I may have caused over the years. The problems I am referring totypos, fuck-ups, and tales of woeare in no way a reflection on Mr. Mller-Brockmann. Although I never had the opportunity to meet him, I have to believe he was above such things.

During a recent visit to my moms house, I couldnt help but notice it.

It was a drawing I did years ago, probably as a teenager. Untitled and forgotten, I now refer to this work as Demon Eating Human Flesh (or DEHF). Apparently my mom found it in a box somewhere, put it in a frame, and hung it near the front doorwhere any visitor to the house is guaranteed to see it.

For years Ive lived with the shame of seeing my early efforts on the walls of that house. In that regard, DEHF joins a rogues gallery that includes Handprint, acrylic on wood (1970); Dandelions, crayon on news-print (1974); Einstein, etching (1979); Glue?!, after a still from a Tonys Pizza commercial (1981); Tyler, Family Cat #4, gouache on illustration board (1982); See No Evil: Three Cats Wearing Glasses, graphite on paper (1982); Indian Woman with Pox-Infested Blanket, graphite on paper (1984). Dadaist John Heartfield decided at one point to destroy all of his early workfor liberation, he said. But it was probably because of his mom.

It gets worse. Yes, Demon Eating Human Flesh is incredibly embarrassing. But thats not the problem, Im used to embarrassing. The problem is that with its reemergence, this drawing is now exhibiting dark, even supernatural qualities. Just when I think its gone, it reappears, straight out of a nineteenth-century W. W. Jacobs short story, instead of Wonder Bread America of the 1970s.

This is a cautionary tale, one that can serve as a warning to all who make things. Once something is createddrawn, in this casethe maker, while exerting complete control over its creation, has virtually no control over what it ultimately means to others, nor, apparently, where it ends up.

I am often asked how I got into graphic design and I always answer that I drew a lot as a kid. Everyone draws as a kid, but most people stop at some point. I didnt. While other kids became interested in normal things pre-adolescents get interested in, I kept drawing, past the cute years, into my teens. For me, drawing was the activity that eventually led me to study design, and Im glad things worked out the way they did, I just wish a visit to my mom wasnt so disturbing.

In these early efforts, I can look through the eyes of earlier versions of me. Im reminded of place and motivation, yet most of what I see is totally unfamiliar, like I could never have been the person who drew these things in the first place.

Here is what happened, as best as I can remember.

I drew a picture.

I dont remember drawing it, but it does have my name on it, so I must have. Due to the subject matter, I drew it in the late 70s. I would have been fifteen years old at the time. This was my Frank Frazetta period (especially, but not limited to, Frazettas work on Nazareths Expect No Mercy and all of his Molly Hatchet album covers). I must have referenced some preexisting art, as I would never have drawn something like this from my imagination. DEHF was then forgotten. I moved on to Albrecht Drer and highly detailed renderings of house pets.

The first time DEHF resurfaced was in 1986, on a circus train, in the possession of my brother Angus, or Kenny, as my mom still refers to him. He changed his name to Angus (after Angus Young of AC/DC) shortly before he dropped out of high school and joined the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus. There werent any circus people in our family, so this was upsetting to my parents, who were both college grads. I sort of saw it coming. He had been hanging around the local arena more and more over the previous year, partying with the roadies and some of the members of his favorite hair metal bands after the shows: Poison, Mtley Cre, Twisted Sister. A shy kid named Fred Coury who went to Sunday school with Angus had grown up to become the drummer for Cinderella. I vaguely remember Angus going to the show and then not seeing him again for a few days.

He did the same when the circus was in town. It was during one of these visits that his circus friends said, Hey, why dont you come with us? and off he went. He didnt give it any more thought than that. If he did, he would have realized that he was a few months from graduating from high school. I never figured out what his official title was, but he worked for years with camels and was later promoted to taking care of the elephants. By taking care, I mean mostly cleaning up after them, much of which involved a shovel. He referred to them as his girls.

He had brought the drawing on the road with him, and I saw it when the circus came to the Richfield Coliseum, thirty miles north of Kent, Ohio, where I was studying graphic design. It was hanging above his bunk on the circus train; it had acquired a dark blue matte, was unframed, and was wrapped in cellophane. I was sitting on the end of his bunk, concentrating on my breathing. This was my first experience dealing with the circus smell that permeated everything on that train, even the beer he handed me tasted like circus. Completely oblivious to the stench, my brother told me that DEHF was the best thing Id ever done, or would