As a cartoonist who had their first political work published in 2010, I have been covering the various iterations of the Tory government for the entirety of its 14 years in office, which looks likely to be ending very soon. Considering how many prime ministers, chancellors and health secretaries we’ve had in that time, along with seismic events such as the pandemic, Brexit and Prince Harry’s frost-bitten penis, it has felt a lot longer.
Throughout this period, as we’ve hopped from one catastrophe to another, people would often say to me, “Oh, this must be great material for you!” to which I will usually reply with some waffle about the paradox faced by those in my profession. We can despair as citizens at the state of the nation but be brimming with ideas as cartoonists.
But another issue for us topical scribblers has been how on earth to react when things have been too ridiculous. Where do you start when satirical metaphors have become our lived experience – schools literally crumbling and rivers swimming with excrement?
One solution is to recycle works from the past and give them a contemporary twist. Paying homage to old masters by hijacking their visuals or themes to create something new. This is essentially what I have done in my upcoming exhibition, Snowflake’s Progress, which opens in London in July.
For this series, I’ve borrowed from the 17th century artist who, through his images, defined Georgian London: William Hogarth.
The UK has a rich tradition of graphic satire, and Hogarth is often considered its grandfather. He was an artist who flirted with various styles but is most known for his storytelling etchings, which became so iconic they earned their own adjective: “Hogarthian”.
They tend to follow a character through various scenes that form a social commentary on the times in which Hogarth lived.
One of the most iconic examples was A Rake’s Progress, which tells the story of Thomas Rakewell – the name being a play on the term “rake”, meaning a dissolute male. Thomas inherits great wealth but squanders it all and (spoiler alert!) ends up in Bedlam asylum.
However, despite all the moralising, Hogarth’s pictures can also be incredibly funny, filled with incidental dark-humoured gags that can be found scattered around the scenes.
These are the vibes I’ve tried to tap into with Snowflake’s Progress. The title, in this case, being a play on the term “snowflake” used by much of the right-wing media to caricature the soft, woke folk-devils of the millennial generation.
The irony is that those who deride this supposedly overly sensitive generation can’t stop hysterically crying over the questioning of their orthodoxies. Entire TV channels have been created for this purpose.
Unlike Hogarth’s protagonist, my main character inherits the legacy of the past 14 years rather than wealth.
Snowflake, fresh from university, ends up working in the gig economy and is unable to find somewhere to live that isn’t a mould-infested cubbyhole… Even a nice day at the beach goes to shit (literally).
Looking at Hogarth’s work now, it is sometimes hard to interpret. This is because it was very much of a time. This is the nature of topical art.
I hope that in Snowflake’s Progress, I’ve managed to capture some of the essence of what Britain was like through the last 14 years of Tory rule.
‘Snowflake’s Progress’ is on at The Coningsby Gallery from 8 – 20 July.
For more information, visit: www.coningsbygallery.com/exhibition/snowflakes-progress-july-2024