Drawing the Line A Short History of Editorial Cartooning in New Zealand

Turnbull Library Record, Volume 39, 1 January 2006, Page 5

lan F. Grant

Drawing the Line A Short History of Editorial Cartooning in New Zealand

The first New Zealand cartoons appeared over 150 years ago. Since then there have been golden and grey cartooning eras; great, good, and journeymen cartoonists; international stars and the locally famous; and a myriad of magazines and newspapers that carried cartoons regularly or sporadically. Today, over 25,000 of these editorial cartoons—originals and copies —are held by the New Zealand Cartoon Archive, the national collection of cartoons and caricatures, at the Alexander Turnbull Library. Why establish an archive of New Zealand political cartoons? It is a question that has been often asked since then prime minister Jim Bolger launched the New Zealand Cartoon Archive, a partnership between a specially formed trust and the Alexander Turnbull Library, at the National Library on April Fool’s Day 1992.

Traditionally, historical research has relied heavily on official documents and reports, and the memoirs and correspondence of participants; more recently newspapers, photographs, and cartoons have added different, and sometimes illuminating, perspectives. At their best, cartoons snatch and preserve the essence of a historical moment. Cartoons are, in a sense, the pulse on the feelings of the day—the quick gut reaction of cartoonists drawing their inspiration from public sentiment. For example, antiMaori, Chinese, Indian, and Jewish feeling at various times in New Zealand was virtually ignored in general

histories until cartoons showed, sometimes in exaggerated form, ‘evidence’ of these commonly held community views. Political cartoons capture the essence of personality and policies. ‘Cartoons have freshness and spontaneity; they catch the mood, anxieties, passions of the moment.’ 1 Certainly, cartoonists of any era are often the most acute interpreters of public opinion, ‘reflecting the anger, dismay or grief their fellow citizens are feeling’.' Editorial cartoons get to the nub of an issue. The former prime minister Sir John Marshall put it well: ‘A good cartoon can convey, at a glance, a wealth of information; it can epitomise an idea better than a thousand words; it is remembered when words are forgotten; it is instant enlightenment.’ 3 Cartoonists and politicians have always needed each other. Sir Gordon Minhinnick described this symbiosis:

It has sometimes been remarked that, for its size, New Zealand has produced a surprising number of cartoonists. It has also produced an even more surprising number of politicians, and since cartoonists thrive on the activities of politicians and the volume of politicians shows no sign of decreasing, the ecological balance is probably maintained by a symbiotic arrangement whereby the organisms depend for their existence on nourishment derived from each other. 4

Certainly, it is true that the blandest periods in New Zealand’s political history have not inspired great cartooning. From the time Thomas Nast’s relentless political cartoon campaign in Harper’s Weekly in the 1870 s ended the career of the infamous New York politician William Marcy Tweed, to the present day, cartoons have always been able to make a political point more robustly than the printed word. As David English wrote, when editor of Britain’s Daily Mail , ‘The cartoonist, given that special licence granted over the centuries, can say things others only dare whisper.’ 5 And so it was from New Zealand’s European beginnings. The better educated of those who settled at the bottom of the world from 1840 onwards were familiar with the cartoon prints still popular early in the nineteenth century and, from 1841, the increasingly in vogue Punch magazine. Punch regularly made the long sea voyage into the southern oceans and, unsurprisingly, New Zealand’s first political cartoons, as nearly everything else in the new colony, were careful imitations of the British models.

Over three decades from the early 1860 s there were at least eight local imitations of the London magazine. They ranged from bad and amateurish parodies to publications with a rough sort of colonial vitality. The humour, invariably as stiff and mannered as the drawings, was often buried in lengthy captions—and it generally depended on heavy-handed puns or complex classical or literary allusions.

The local Punch magazines were opposed to the large landowners (who had too much), the Maori (who would not sell fast enough), the do-gooding clergy (who sided with Maori), and the government (when it restricted land sales). Perhaps surprisingly, the first of these magazines appeared in Taranaki in 186061. When Taranaki Punch, a reflection of the resentment and frustration of New Plymouth settlers, was published during the first Taranaki war there was a sharp edge to the comments about Maori and their missionary supporters and a pleasing simplicity to the wood engraving cartoons.

There was a brief flurry of South Island Punch magazines in the mid-1860s. Invariably, they were thin, short-lived weeklies. They were also strongly parochial and largely dedicated, with varying degrees of pungency, to discrediting the rapacious North. Punch in Canterbury (1865) carried some of the most professionally drawn cartoons, and there was energy and enterprise in the Dunedin publications. From late May to the end of December in 1865 Dunedin Punch amused its readers with a mix of short sketches, poems, jokes, conundrums, and cartoons, borrowing freely—as did its successors—from the cover conventions of its London prototype:

In the Dunedin version Mr Punch sits in his office, with his dog Toby below, surrounded by an intricate pattern of tiny figures with the faces of local politicians. The whole is surmounted by a gas balloon, and the background sketches include a belfry and a group of bats, indicative of Mr Punch’s opinions of the doings of local leaders. 6

Many of the early cartoonists were anonymous, but Arthur L. Palethorpe, a more competent draughtsman than most, signed his name boldly and in full in the Wellington Punch (1868). Frank Varley signed his initials in the Wellington magazine and then the Auckland Punch he part-owned and ran in 1868-69. Palethorpe and J. H. Wallis, a less skilled practitioner, drew for a Wellingtonbased New Zealand Punch that appeared for 32 weeks in 1879-80. Another New Zealand Punch appeared fleetingly in Dunedin in 1888.

However, none of these gentlemen could claim to be the country’s first political cartoonist. Although his pencil and pencil-and-wash cartoon prints did not appear in any publication, James Brown, born near Glasgow and apprenticed early to a calico painter, trained as a pattern designer. He then worked at the craft in Manchester before sailing for New Zealand in 1850, and a successful and prosperous career as an engraver in Dunedin. Brown had a considerable Otago reputation as a visual commentator from the early 1850 s:

He was a born caricaturist, and gave free scope to his bent as opportunities arose; and these were numerous enough in the stirring little community of Dunedin during the first ten years. The cast of his mind was keenly, humorously, observant. He judged quickly of character, and was seldom very far out—the very salient peculiarity or oddity of the individual or individuals coming under his notice evoking the faculty of graphic, minute, and truth-like representation. 7

Several prominent nineteenth-century settlers and visitors dabbled with cartoons. Charles Heaphy, the surveyor artist, was an amateur cartoonist. ‘The notebooks he kept during the New Zealand wars and gold rushes contain cartoons crowded with stick figures and comments on personalities and attitudes. ’ x Gustavus von Tempsky, the German-bom soldier-adventurer-artist, submitted a cover design for the projected Wellington Punch in 1868. Frank Varley’s final design, although different, clearly cribbed von Tempsky’s centrepiece group of soldier, businessman, lawyer, Maori, and clergyman. Nicholas Chevalier, remembered in New Zealand for his romantic oil and watercolour landscapes, was reputedly Australia’s first cartoonist. ‘Chevalier’s work [in the Melbourne Punch] appears to be tremendously variable: some of it [...] scratchy in technique; other work appears tight, and very detailed.’ 9

New Zealand’s early newspapers generally left illustration of any kind to the magazines, which had the time to engage in the laborious and costly—process of engraving on wooden blocks. Artists drew on a block of smooth, close-grained wood; an engraver cut or engraved by hand; and then the resulting raised surface was inked for printing. Much depended on the engraver’s skill, and the cartoonist’s distinctive style was often submerged in a mass of shading and cross-hatched

lines. It was only after the introduction of photo-engraving in the 1880 s, during a period of great technological change that included the linotype and rotary press, that newspapers gave serious consideration to cartoons. As early as 1882, the Wellington Advertiser was playing a pioneering role by running scores of cartoons in special supplements; later in the decade, Wellington’s Evening Press reproduced occasional cartoon supplements.

By this time, though, and for some decades to come it was clear that the weekly press was going to take the greatest advantage of the new, efficient lithography techniques. Weeklies first appeared in New Zealand in the 1850 s, often as adjuncts to dailies to provide news digests for the growing number of settlers living well away from the principal towns. The Weekly Press, launched in Christchurch in 1865, was one of the first newspapers in the country to use half-tone engravings and then etched half-tone blocks. But it was not until the early 1890 s that a different sort of weekly, with a greater emphasis on social, sporting, and cultural coverage, began to use cartoons widely. The Observer began its long and checkered publishing life in 1880. (Its masthead was later to carry the line: ‘Smart, but not vulgar; fearless, but not offensive; independent, but not neutral; unsectarian but not irreligious’.) It carried some cartoons in 1883, but it took the arrival of William Blomfield in 1887, and the ‘Bio’

signature on an avalanche of comic art that was to continue for more than half a century, to give the Auckland weekly its distinctive character. The Observer had a succession of owners before Blomfield became part-owner in 1892, with W. J. and J. M. Geddis. In 1894 this entrepreneurial trio began Christchurch’s Spectator—best remembered for publishing David Low’s first cartoon—and the New Zealand Free Lance in Wellington in 1900.

These magazines, and the New Zealand Graphic, Ladies’ Journal and Youths’ Companion , launched by the Auckland Star’s Henry Brett in 1890, gave particular prominence to cartoons. The New Zealand Graphic ran front-page cartoons between 1892 and 1908; the Observer’s front-page cartoon was only one of many every week after 1893; the New Zealand Free Lance ran regular full-page cartoons on inside pages.

Not surprisingly, the best cartooning coincides with pivotal political periods, and the Liberal government of the 1890 s with its radical policies stimulated the first golden age of New Zealand editorial cartooning.

Among the leading cartoonists of the time, the New Zealand Graphic's Ashley Hunter and Vyvyan Hunt provided the bridge between the very stiff and formal style of the earlier Punch cartoonists and the much faster, more spontaneous work of ‘Bio’, his brother J. C. Blomfield, and Fred Hiscocks. This trio best captured

premier Richard John Seddon’s large, dominating personality, boundless egotism and energy.

Seddon dominated cartoons as he did the politics of the period. He was invariably ‘King Dick’; cartoonists drew him with kingly trappings and inferred an intimacy with the royal family. Possibly Hiscocks best captured Seddon: his puffed-out chest, Windsor uniform, and PC (privy councillor) fob. Certainly his cartoon booklet, ‘King Dick Abroad’ was a success in 1902. Hiscocks cartooned for the New Zealand Free Lance in 1901-02 and for the New Zealand Graphic from 1903 to 1907. Between 1900 and 1914, he drew ‘Peeps at Parliament’ for the Weekly Press and then, as Gunner Hiscocks, he contributed to the Chronicles of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force [NZEF] from 1916 to 1918.

One of the country’s most remarkable cartoonists, William Blomfield had worked briefly in an architect’s office and as an artist in the process department of the New Zealand Herald before joining the Observer. Blomfield’s involvement with the Spectator and New Zealand Free Lance was short-lived, but his prolific output at the Observer made him an influential political commentator and a wellloved Auckland personality. His work marked a change in graphic style:

His style was sometimes dismissed disparagingly as ‘rush and ready’, but along with his younger brother John Blomfield and E. F. Hiscocks,

he was one of the first to shrug off the prim, static, relentlessly crosshatched style of the early New Zealand cartoonists. Blomfield’s line continued to loosen as he grew older and there was sometimes a semiabstract feel to his cartoons. He was often careless and haphazard about details and background, but his work had a vitality and visual flow that links him directly to today’s leading cartoonists. 10

His output was not restricted to a weekly editorial cartoon; for decades ‘Bio’ drew three or four full-page cartoons and another six to eight smaller block cartoons or caricatures every week—and he did this until a few days before his death in 1938 at the age of 72. He was also Takapuna’s second mayor and a director of mining and commercial ventures. His brother J. C. (John Collis) Blomfield was New Zealand Free Lance cartoonist during the first decade of the new century. The Auckland Weekly News, with an ancestry that went back to the 1860 s, was published by Wilson and Horton from 1876, with illustrations becoming a feature from 1898. Trevor Lloyd joined the staff in 1903 and his additional role as a ‘special artist’ for the New Zealand Herald—at night-time fires and indoor ceremonies, which were still beyond the scope of the camera—led to occasional and then more frequent cartoons in the daily’s ‘Saturday Supplement’.

Lloyd’s style, modified very little during his three decades as New Zealand Herald cartoonist, was influenced by the major passions of his life—etching, and the study of native flora and fauna. A pioneer New Zealand etcher, he produced hundreds of studies of native trees, birds, Maori heads, and landscapes. His early experimenting and the excellence of his draughtsmanship have been more widely recognised since his death. A careful study of his prodigious output also suggests that, in his cartoons as well as his other work, Lloyd was a persistent propagandist for the sale of Maori land to European settlers. 11

Although considerably younger, David Low, New Zealand’s most famous cartoonist, was beginning his career in Christchurch about the same time as Lloyd joined the Auckland Weekly News. Low’s first political cartoon was published in the Spectator in 1902 when he was eleven years old. The next year he left school and the Spectator paid him five shillings to illustrate two jokes a week. With typical enterprise, he also drew anti-smoking and anti-gambling cartoons for the Salvation Army’s War Cry and was an occasional court sketcher for New Zealand Truth, which early Australian press baron John Norton launched in 1905. In 1907, Low joined the Sketcher, a short-lived weekly, for two pounds a week, the tutelage of caricaturist-proprietor Fred Rayner more important than the money. The next year Low was back at the Spectator as full-time political cartoonist drawing two fullpage and four smaller cartoons a week, his precocious drawing ability now matched by a blossoming interest in radical politics.

During the next three years, until an argument ended the relationship, Low drew to the instructions of G. W. Russell, politician and the weekly’s new joint owner. He was not long without employment. By 1910 the liberal Canterbury Times , which had regularly featured half-tone illustrations after acquiring a photo-engraving plant in 1895, was under heavy pressure from the conservative Weekly Press. Low suggested his cartoons would give the liberal weekly a ‘competitive advantage’, was hired at five pounds a week, and finally had the space and reproductive quality to stretch his skills —and to showcase them to other prospective employers, including the Sydney Bulletin.

In 1911, after a falling out at the Canterbury Times over conscription, the nineteen-year-old Low accepted a temporary job offer from the famous and rebellious Australian weekly, and left New Zealand for a career that took him to the pinnacle of world cartooning.

The work of a number of cartoonists appeared in the weeklies, which reduced in number during the early years of the twentieth century. The New Zealand Mail was absorbed by the New Zealand Graphic in 1907 and it, in turn, by the Weekly News in 1913. With the Observer and Weekly News very much the preserves of ‘Bio’ and Lloyd respectively, the New Zealand Free Lance provided opportunities, if not steady incomes, for several cartoonists including W. Macßeth, K. M. Ballantyne, Brodie Mack, and A. H. Messenger (also chief government publicity officer).

Two new publications gave limited employment to cartoonists. The Maoriland Worker, a weekly begun by the Federated Shearers’ Association in 1910, and soon the official organ of the New Zealand Federation of Labour, ran cartoons, uncompromising in subject and style, by Alsop and H. Mann. From 1905, Norton’s New Zealand Truth acquired a reputation for its muckraking headlines, and distaste for Chinese and prohibitionists—and a succession of fine cartoonists beginning with Will Hope.

In the 19205, cartoons began to lose some of their intricately documented detail and the ponderous, multi-lined captions declined in number. Content was asserting itself over form. Two of the era’s most proficient cartoonists—Jack Gilmour and Tom Glover—worked for a variety of publications and in various guises. Gilmour cartooned under his own name and as ‘J H Gee’ and ‘Jay H Gee’ at New Zealand Truth, New Zealand Worker, Christchurch Sun and New Zealand Free Lance. Tom Glover, who decorated the lift with sketches of his clientele while working as elevator boy in Wellington’s King Chambers, had eleven years, until 1922, as Truth cartoonist. Latterly, and before leaving for Australia, he drew covers for the New Zealand Free Lance in his distinctive style, his first names—T. Ellis—a thin disguise.

Editorial cartoons were beginning to leaven the columns of news in the dailies from the mid-19205. Trevor Lloyd was cartooning more in the New Zealand Herald', A. S. Paterson joined the Dominion as the capital’s morning daily’s first staff cartoonist in 1925; and J. C. Hill became the Auckland Star’s staff cartoonist two years later.

A bold, new daily newspaper venture was to be relatively short lived, but it blooded a young cartoonist who would outlive and out-cartoon all his contemporaries. Edward C. Huie, an Australian by birth, began the Christchurch Sun in 1914, its modem layout and lavish use of illustrations appealing to younger readers. Gordon Minhinnick, a trainee architect, who was briefly staff cartoonist at the New Zealand Free Lance, served a six-month apprenticeship in Christchurch before Huie appointed him to the Auckland Sun, launched in Febmary 1927. Auckland’s third daily survived the rigours of a circulation war against the established New Zealand Herald and Auckland Star for three and a half years—long enough for Minhinnick’s talent to be widely observed and admired. ‘Min’, as he was to become affectionately known, was promptly appointed staff cartoonist at the New Zealand Herald.

By the late 1920 s there was a curious mix of daily newspaper cartoonists. Lloyd, who had never adapted very successfully to the pressures of daily publication, was about to retreat to the Weekly News, spending many hours decorating the Christmas issues sent around the world. J. C. Hill, whose occupations had ranged from tea planter in Ceylon to commercial turtle hunter in the Pacific, was to be more appreciated for the ingenuity of his ideas and ability to grab a likeness than for his noticeably clumsy draughtsmanship. Alan Paterson, the sole daily cartoonist in Wellington, was allowed to virtually ignore politics in his whimsical sketches and observations about life, and a cast of characters that included ‘Little Eric of Berhampore’.

Minhinnick was, by contrast, the consummate professional and a world-class cartoonist whom David Low recommended for his Evening Standard chair when he left the London newspaper in 1949. Minhinnick had been principally influenced by Low and shared his master-craftsman skills. The two men differed, however, in their approach to the politics of the day: In contrast to Low, Minhinnick saw his role more to amuse than to provoke and, of course, his work was not infused with Low’s radicalism. Minhinnick’s view of life and politics was comfortably in step with the New Zealand Herald and the majority of New Zealanders. ‘I don’t wave any party banners and I feel that cartoons of approbation are rarely very successful,’ he once said. Yet Minhinnick, a conservative in the sense that he distrusted change, was arguably at his most effective, and angriest, between 1936 and 1949 when the Labour government pushed New Zealand in a new direction. ~

This period was the second great era of political cartooning in New Zealand, largely because of Minhinnick’s portrayal of a distinctive band of Labour ministers and members of parliament—Michael Joseph Savage, Peter Fraser, Walter Nash, Bob Semple, and John A. Lee among them—and the policies that turned conventional wisdom and politics upside down. There was also, after the Second World War, impressive work by Neville Colvin and Keith Waite. During the 1930 s most New Zealand dailies featured local cartoonists—their own or syndicated. Minhinnick’s New Zealand Herald cartoons were carried by the Christchurch Press , Southland Times, and Wellington’s Evening Post. J. C. Hill’s Auckland Star cartoons appeared in the Christchurch Star-Sun— the 1935 amalgam of the city’s Star and Sun papers. The Otago Daily Times stood firm against any such overt signs of frivolity until 1940.

Successes overseas It remains a mystery why such an under-populated country has produced so many able cartoonists, but there are two simple reasons why so many have moved elsewhere. ‘While it has always been comparatively easy to have cartoons published

in New Zealand, the country’s press has never provided a living for more than a handful of professional cartoonists.’ 13 As well, the lack of local employment has not been assisted by the very long careers of stay-at-home cartoonists.

Trevor Lloyd and Gordon Minhinnick spent twenty-seven and forty-six years respectively as New Zealand Herald cartoonists. At the Auckland Star , John Hill stayed twenty-six years, Neil Lonsdale twenty years, and Peter Bromhead had been the incumbent for eighteen years when he left in 1990. Bill Wrathall was Truth's staff cartoonist for seventeen years. Alan Paterson was at the Dominion for a quarter century and Eric Heath for twenty-eight years. Nevile Lodge drew Evening Post cartoons for forty-one years, and Sid Scales was the Otago Daily Times cartoonist for over thirty years.

There is a long roll call of New Zealand cartoonists who have succeeded overseas, particularly in Australia and Britain.

Harry Rountree, apprenticed to the New Zealand Herald as a litho artist, received his first art lessons from William Blomfield and emigrated to England in 1901; there he had a distinguished career as Punch cartoonist and illustrator of children’s books, with humorous animals his forte. After a lengthy cartooning career in New Zealand, Fred Hiscocks joined the staff of the London Daily News in 1925.

David Low’s career has been well documented. After success on the Bulletin in Australia from 1911, he joined the liberal London Star in 1919 and, at Lord Beaverbrook’s urging, the conservative Evening Standard in 1927. There he established his reputation, boosted by world-wide syndication, as one of the most effective opponents of the appeasement of Europe’s fascist dictatorships. A supposedly completely free rein, much publicised by both Low and his employer, resulted in cartoons sharply at odds with the newspaper’s editorial stance, and regularly raised the collective blood pressure of Evening Standard's readers. Low’s work was drawing international attention:

Attempts were made to persuade Low to tone down his attacks as they were hampering British diplomatic efforts. Low made few compromises and, despite learning that his name was included on a Gestapo arrest list, continued in what he considered was an educative role. His cartoons not only helped to define fascism but also created lasting images of its most important leaders. 14 Low was also widely admired for his draughtsmanship: With fluency went an exquisite certainty and economy of line, belying the painstaking pencil sketch beneath it and rarely failing [...]. His powers of composition were masterly. He could group figures and objects with dramatic effect, through such favourite devices as the ‘flying wedge’ —of politicians, jackbooted soldiers, refugees or pigs.

He used large contrasting masses of black ink and white space on a scale unprecedented in British newspapers [...]. 15 Later, Keith Waite and Neville Colvin left, respectively, the Otago Daily Times in 1951 and the Evening Post in 1956 for distinguished Fleet Street cartooning careers. Waite, who contributed cartoons to the Taranaki Daily News while attending the Elam School of Art, was on the staff of the Daily Sketch in London from 1954 to 1965, and subsequently cartoonist on the Sun, Daily Mirror, and Sunday Mirror, and a long-time Punch contributor. Colvin served a wartime apprenticeship on the New Zealand Expeditionary Force Times before a decade as the Evening Post's first staff cartoonist, followed by a succession of staff stints in London on the News Chronicle, Daily Telegraph, News of the World, Daily Sketch, Daily Express, and Sunday Express.

Later again, Les Gibbard, who trained as a journalist and briefly understudied Minhinnick at the New Zealand Herald , became, at twenty-three, the Guardian's youngest ever staff cartoonist. He continued at the London newspaper, where David Low spent several post-war years, for a quarter century. More recently, he has focused on film and TV animation projects. Another New Zealander, John Kent, also joined the Guardian' s payroll in 1969; his satirical, politically incorrect ‘ Varoomshka’ strip became a popular, if controversial, fixture for a decade. Englishborn Nicholas Garland spent his formative, teenage years in New Zealand and is, he says, proud to carry both British and New Zealand passports. He studied at the Slade School of Art and became the Daily Telegraph's first political cartoonist in 1966. Forty years later he is still there. Murray Ball, who first cartooned in the nowdefunct Manawatu Times in 1959-60, spent the 1969-74 period in England, where he developed ‘Stanley’, Punch's longest running cartoon strip, before returning to New Zealand and twenty-five years of ‘Footrot Flats’ success. (In recent years, communications advances have made it easier to cartoon internationally from New Zealand. Ball’s ‘Footrot Flats’ ran in scores of newspapers, particularly in Australia and Europe, while David Fletcher’s ‘The Politician’ cartoon strip has appeared in Europe and Australia, possibly proving the maxim that the same sorts of things happen endlessly in politics everywhere.)

Les Gibbard has described why, in his view, New Zealanders have succeeded as cartoonists in Britain: An outsider is often the best observer, and in our case we had an advantage over cartoonists of most other countries in that we were programmed with inside knowledge right from the start. We were fed British history, geography and news at school, and we started work on mild-mannered newspapers trying to match the British dailies [...]. But we remained sufficiently rough-hewn to say the rude things that good British breeding might not permit! 16

It has been a similar story in Australia. The list of New Zealand cartoonists in Australia has included Noel Cook, F. H. Cumberworth, George Finey, Tom Glover, Brodie Mack, Alan Moir, and Cecil ‘Unk’ White, the most significant, David Fow aside, being Finey, Glover, and Moir.

George Finey was born in Auckland in 1895, enlisted in the army as an under-age private, and ended the First World War as an official war artist. Sergeant Finey spent his post-Armistice leave in London at the Regent Street Polytechnic School of Art; by Christmas 1919 he was in Australia, where he spent the rest of his roller-coaster life. On Smith’s Weekly, he became one of the country’s best paid cartoonists, and later worked for the Labor Daily, Truth, and Daily Telegraph, regularly upsetting proprietors and editors. He was a world-class caricaturist and pioneer of modern art techniques in Australia: During his last years, spent in a humble cottage in the Blue Mountains, the octogenarian artist was enthusiastically at work on projects combining art and music. He was still too much of an iconoclast to take very seriously the increasingly respectful attention being given to his art, caricature and political cartooning. 17

After a lengthy stint on Truth, Tom Glover crossed the Tasman in 1922 to join the Bulletin. Nine years later he became the Sydney Sun's cartoonist and his reputation blossomed. The 7 September 1938 issue of the Sun carried his regular page 4 cartoon and news of his sudden collapse and death in his office that day: ‘Mr Tom Glover whose cartoons have delighted a continent died before aid could be summoned.’ The instant eulogy, written against a pressing deadline, went on to say that ‘in the sense that his work was known to hundreds and thousands he had amused with his brilliant humour in black and white, his death is a nation-wide loss’.

Alan Moir studied for his bachelor of fine arts degree at Auckland University in the early 19705. In early 1973, he stopped in Sydney on his way to Britain, tentatively contributed to the Bulletin, and has had a career of unbroken success at the Brisbane Courier-Mail and, subsequently, as editorial cartoonist at the Sydney Morning Herald. When he won the first of a number of national cartoon awards in 1985, one commentator wrote: ‘Moir’s minimalist cartoons look thrown together but usually pack a belt like an MX missile.’

One prominent New Zealand cartoonist, Will Hope, headed for the United States rather than Australia or Britain. In 1915 he became cartoonist for the New York Globe ; and Truth, where he had worked previously, reported, with a touch of pride: ‘His work is much admired as the style is more natural than the usual dyspeptic visions with which the Noo Yorker generally crowds his sheets and calls from cartoons.’ Hope was apparently less impressed with New York and moved to England later in the decade where, as an idealistic socialist, he contributed to

the Communist , a weekly magazine. Using the pseudonym ‘Espoire’ (French for ‘Hope’) he attacked the Labour Party savagely between 1920 and 1923, when a libel action closed down the magazine. Hope’s work was given prominence: These cartoons for the Communist are among the most powerful in Britain in the 20th century. They stand beside the best of Low’s of the 19205, but were uncompromisingly direct rather than humorous as Low’s were in this period [...]. The cartoons were published large, sometimes right across two full pages of the tabloid-sized weekly and were usually the main feature of an otherwise lightweight magazine. 18 In 1924, Hope became editorial cartoonist on Labour’s Daily Herald— until they found out who he was!

Drawing political lines in the mid-twentieth century There was a comfortable smugness about New Zealand in the 1950 s and 1960 s and, in parallel, it was a quiet, unspectacular period on the cartooning front. There was little bite to most of the cartoons—Labour was in power for only three out of twenty-two years up to the 1972 election and newspapers were loath to lampoon the party they generally supported. Minhinnick, the fire of the preceding two decades somewhat abated, continued at the New Zealand Herald. After J. C. Hill’s departure, Neil Lonsdale, with a background in signwriting and advertising, drew at the Auckland Star from 1953 until 1968. Nevile Lodge, also from the commercial art world, was waiting to step into Neville Colvin’s shoes at the Evening Post. The Dominion had no staff cartoonist after A. S. Paterson left in 1950 until Eric Heath, a freelance artist with a particular interest in things maritime, began in 1966, after a brief apprenticeship on the recently launched Sunday Times. At the Otago Daily Times, Sid Scales, who studied at the Central School of Art in London on a post-war rehabilitation bursary, took over when Keith Waite left for Britain in 1951.

General-interest magazines, historically the major supporters of the cartooning craft, were now faltering. The Observer, never quite the same after ‘Bio’s’ death in 1938, finally succumbed in 1954. Television, with transmissions beginning in 1960, hastened the demise of the Free Lance in 1961. The Weekly News clung on, through a spirited revamp, until 1971, but for years it had simply taken its pick of Minhinnick’s daily cartoons in the New Zealand Herald.

Neither Lodge nor Heath had a strong interest in politics when they began their editorial cartooning careers; Lonsdale and Sid Scales, during his early years at the Otago Daily Times, expected to be told what to draw. Low, Hope, and Finey had

gone overseas for the opportunity to express their political opinions. Others had attempted to do so at home: Alsop and H. Mann in the Maoriland Worker before and during the First World War; Andrew Kennaway Henderson with his angry but meticulously drawn comment on politics and the press during the 1930 s as editor-illustrator of Tomorrow magazine; Fox (I. McAnally) in the Standard from the mid-19305; and Mack (John McNamara) in the Southern Cross, Labour’s lively morning daily in the capital, which survived five years from 1946.

Nothing more graphically illustrated the post-war conservatism of the New Zealand press than its coverage—admittedly under orders from the government—of the 1951 waterfront dispute. While the newspapers printed only the government’s side of the argument, their cartoonists, without exception, stereotyped ‘wharfies’ as saboteurs and wreckers—overpaid, lazy, bullying thugs, their lethal-looking balehooks stuck in belts and hats, terrorising shipowners and the public.

There was one exception: the simple, but graphically effective cartoons in the illegal union bulletins duplicated at different locations during the five months of ‘confrontation’. The cartoons were, like the bulletin articles, anonymous; only later was it revealed that Max Bollinger, who had previously worked in the art department of a printing company, was the cartoonist: The ideas were mostly Max’s own, though sometimes he acted on suggestions. The hardest part was drawing straight on to the wax stencils. As well as doing the cartoons Max worked on production of the bulletins, which had to be done in great secrecy. 14

Image makers of the powerful In the 1890 s, before photography was widely used, many New Zealanders formed their opinion of larger-than-life premier Richard John Seddon from the cartoons of Blomfield and Hiscocks—‘King Dick’, pouter-pigeon chested in ceremonial garb, lording it over Wellington, the South Pacific, and even the British Empire. ‘Bio’ travelled to Wellington during Ballance’s short premiership to observe and sketch the politicians. R. J. Seddon was an accomplice: ‘Old Dick would lure a member into Bellamys and keep him in conversation while I sketched him.’ One victim was ‘Hee Hem’ Smith, ‘the little pug nosed, ragged bearded member from New Plymouth, in top hat and cape-coat’: To K. H.’s (Hee Hem) astonishment and joy, Dick wanted information on his ‘ironsand scheme’. K. H. would not keep still, hopping around Dick’s lively form in his excitement. Dick at last caught him by the lapels of his coat and held him fast until I finished, and then roared with

delight at the result. Little ‘Hee Hem’ roared, squealed and threatened, but I got away with it. 20 Many years later, when the Labour government came to power, the New Zealand Herald sent Gordon Minhinnick to Wellington to sketch a number of ministers. Presciently, given his subsequent portrayal in Minhinnick’s work, Bob Semple regarded the cartoonist with considerable suspicion.

The beginning of the television era in New Zealand in the early 1960 s presented new challenges for cartoonists. As the Evening Post’s Nevile Lodge put it: ‘The politicians and their visual expressions are so well known these days that a cartoonist • 21 has to get his faces right.’

Although Lodge, Heath, and Scales saw their primary role as eliciting a chuckle from readers, they all produced effective political cartoons as well. Lodge’s sporting cartoons, especially his Sports Post covers, had a huge following; Heath was particularly noted for his perceptive take on social issues; while Scales’ caricatures of Supreme Court judges became a Dunedin institution. Whether editorial cartoons should simply amuse or also provoke is a longstanding argument. David Low had very clear views on the subject: There may be many persons still who hold the absurd misconception that it is the cartoonist’s business to be amusing and to confirm them in their prejudices [...]. Their function is not to please but to provoke, for in this way they contribute to progress by shocking the indifferent into action and stirring fools out of their folly. 2-

Toeing the line New Zealand’s first newspaper and magazine proprietors often had more of a political than commercial agenda, and cartoonists were expected to toe the particular line. Cartoonists, for economic reasons, sometimes toed more than one line at the same time. As the teenage David Low later recounted: ‘On Thursdays I piped in the Spectactor the circumspect voice of liberalism, on Mondays I was Labour’s messenger clad in thunder in the Herald .’ 23 As the dailies flourished and newsrooms grew the few staff cartoonists were expected to keep office hours and attend editorial meetings. Neil Lonsdale, twenty years editorial cartoonist at the Auckland Star, saw himself more as an illustrator and observed that many of his cartoon ideas came out of the newspaper’s daily editorial conference. 24 Commercial considerations were now paramount, and cartoonists had more or less independence depending on their terms of employment, personality, and the strength or otherwise of their political convictions. Nevile Lodge and Eric Heath spent years in tiny, cell-

like offices at their Wellington newspapers; in Auckland, Peter Bromhead occupied a ‘broom cupboard’ at the Auckland Star for an hour or two each morning before walking a few hundred metres to his interior design company’s appropriately stylish suite of offices.

Editors had, and still have, veto power over cartoons; most use it sparingly, legal complications or matters of taste more likely to exercise them than subject matter or a cartoon’s particular perspective. There has generally been a distinction between an editor’s rejection of a particular cartoon and directing what can and cannot be cartooned. Since the technology revolution most cartoonists, at least in New Zealand, work from home and send their work, a mix of the parochial, national, and international dictated by the news of the day, ‘down the wire’, further weakening the connection with the editor and publication. The Dominion , in the mid-19905, had an editorial policy towards cartoons, which raised eyebrows, within and outside the cartooning community, of setting Peter Bromhead, Jim Hubbard, and Mark Downer in daily competition against each other. Bromhead said at the time: ‘Because I’m doing it on a freelance basis, I don’t waste my time doing antiBolger cartoons. If I do an anti-Labour cartoon, for instance one on Helen Clark, it instantly goes in.’ 25

Bromhead lost his job at the faltering Auckland Star in 1990, but Malcolm Evans’s departure from the New Zealand Herald in 2003 was a much more public affair. It has been suggested that the newspaper bowed to the pressure of the Jewish community’s claim that Evans’s cartoons about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict had, over a lengthy period, been anti-Zionist; that Evans’s cartoons were anti-Israel, not anti-Zionist, and that his freedom of expression had been blocked; that his dismissal was more to do with prior internet use of a cartoon and the newspaper’s internal politics than the particular subject matter. The flurry of claims and counter-claims in articles 26 and conference papers 27 muddied rather than clarified the matter.

While New Zealand politicians have regularly sued the print and electronic media for aspersions supposedly cast, much more biting comments in cartoons have not received the attention of defamation lawyers. Sir Geoffrey Palmer, a lawyer and former prime minister, offered his view:

History suggests that cartoonists—who often deal savagely with politicians and others—are relatively safe. The Press Council receives a number of complaints about cartoons, but that’s usually as far as it goes. A cartoon is, after all, an analogy and cartoonists are generally on safe ground as long as they express genuine opinions. 28 on safe ground as long as they express genuine opinions. (A 1992 law change had replaced ‘fair comment’ with the stronger ‘honest opinion’ defence.)

In 1911, in the one court case involving political cartoons, William Massey, then leader of the opposition, sued the New Zealand Times, claiming he had been portrayed as a liar and responsible for mean and despicable acts. The jury agreed the cartoon did so depict Massey but, being political comment, was not libellous.

Two 1913 cartoons landed William Blomfield in court. One, captioned ‘Justice is Not Blind’, depicted Mr Justice Edwards, who had shown distinct partiality towards a pretty female witness in a divorce case, peeping slyly at the lady in the box. The Observer and Blomfield were arraigned for libelling a judge. A procession of cabs and a brass band accompanied Blomfield to the Auckland railway station prior to the case being heard in Wellington. The ruling was that ‘the cartoons, although of an objectionable character and although probably of a libellous nature, were not calculated to interfere with the due administration of justice and did not therefore amount to contempt of Court’.

New Zealand companies have regularly brought legal cases against publications, if not cartoons. Nevertheless, a cartoon by Trace Hodgson in the New Zealand Times in 1985 led to a claim for $lO million in damages. The cartoon, based on a Middle Ages legend, portrayed a number of fast-growing 1980 s companies as voracious rats with entwined tails. The case petered out with the demise of many of the companies after the 1987 sharemarket crash.

Cartoon riches in the 1970 s and 1980 s Strong political convictions and anger about injustices strongly motivated a number of cartoonists during the third golden era of cartooning in New Zealand, from the mid-1970s until the end of the 1980 s. There was a fortuitous combination of one of the largest cadres of talented, stay-at-home cartoonists for decades with a period of convulsive and compelling politics as Robert David Muldoon, by sheer force of his abrasive personality, tried to insulate the country from international economic forces, and then ‘Rogernomics’ swapped regulation for heady, unprecedented liberalisation.

Among the new cartoonists—more motivated by social conscience than by a desire to entertain—were Bob Brockie, Peter Bromhead, Malcolm Evans, Trace Hodgson, Tom Scott, Chris Slane, Malcolm Walker, and Mark Winter. In dailies and weeklies they produced a stream of hard-hitting cartoons through a period of very rapid change.

Bob Brockie, a committed socialist, cartooned for Victoria University of Wellington student publications while he studied for a zoology degree in the

19505. He first took political sides during the Vietnam War and saw his weekly cartoon primarily as a political activity, an opportunity to express his opinion and, frequently, his disgust. Dr Brockie, now nominally retired after a distinguished career as a scientist, is considered one of the ablest caricaturists of his generation. He credits some of his cartooning talent to his zoology training: ‘There’s no doubt that the many hundreds of hours of anatomical drawing I did as a student developed an eye-brain-hand discipline and gave me a grip on line and perspective.’ 20 Brockie has been editorial cartoonist of the weekly National Business Review continuously since 1975; his views are often anathema to the publication’s primary audience of senior company management, but he remains after several changes of ownership, each more conservative than the previous. (Bill Paynter, an under-rated cartoonist, was employed four days a week during National Business Review's 1987-91 experiment with daily publication.)

Peter Bromhead was building a successful interior design practice in Auckland when he decided he wanted to be a cartoonist as well. In 1971, when his first major breakthrough was a weekly Truth cartoon, it took him the whole week to finish each elaborate drawing. He then badgered the Auckland Star until they accepted two cartoons a week, using the family name ‘Deighton’, and then offered him the daily slot in 1973. Now cartooning under his own name, Bromhead soon abandoned his early detailed approach. Style, he said, was getting in the way of ideas: ‘I wanted to get down to linear shorthand. The more childlike, the less flattering; the more banal the style, the more you can shock.’ 30 And shock he often did during next eighteen years.

Tom Scott was also politicised by the Vietnam War and anti-apartheid movement. He cut his cartooning teeth on student publications, completing a physiology degree at Massey University in Palmerston North, and in the early 1970 s his cartoons began appearing in more mainstream publications. It was inspired intuition for lan Cross, editor of the Listener , to employ him as the weekly’s parliamentary correspondent and allow him to illustrate his articles with cartoons. ‘l’m a verbal person, so I do verbal cartoons,’ Scott says. ‘But I still consider myself a cartoonist who writes rather than the other way round.’ 31 Scott contributed his funny, iconoclastic column to the Listener for the best part of a decade from 1973, did the same for the Auckland Star for three years, and was appointed the Evening Post's editorial cartoonist in 1987.

Malcolm Evans’ mild-mannered persona hides a fierce commitment to his integrity as a cartoonist. He joined the New Zealand Herald as illustrator-cartoonist in 1970, providing cartoons on ‘Min’s’ days off. When Minhinnick finally left the staff in 1976, Evans took his place officially. The next two years were not happy ones. The little convict character complete with ball and chain in his cartoons was Malcolm Evans; it could say things he could not and was a way of working off frustrations when so many first-up cartoon ideas were rejected. He resigned on a

point of principle at the time of the Bastion Point ‘occupation’ in mid-1978, was invited back again in 1994, and left again in controversial circumstances in 2003.

The Listener confirmed its reputation as an employer of top cartooning talent when it hired Trace Hodgson, after Tom Scott’s departure, and then, in the early 19905, Chris Slane. Hodgson’s quiet, retiring nature belies a savage pen and uncompromising ideas. His preference is for exaggerated caricature. ‘lt’s a means of attacking society, institutions, politicians, government, and leaders,’ he says. ‘A cartoonist could be considered a psychopath with a pencil.’ 32 With a degree in town planning, Slane cartooned for a range of glossy magazines that flourished briefly before the stock market crash in 1987. Since the early 19905, he has relished the four-colour editorial cartooning spot at the Listener.

Like Bob Brockie, Malcolm Walker’s cartoons have occupied a weekly spot— Sunday News, in his case—since 1975. The powerful and often quirky cartoons of this Auckland architect, with a penchant for the restoration of old houses, have also appeared in several periodicals. Mark Winter, with art and social science qualifications, has contributed cartoons to the Southland Times since the mid1980s in a diverse career that has included the deputy-mayoralty of Invercargill, polytechnic lecturing, and the making of award-winning animated films.

Also prominent during this rich period in New Zealand cartooning were Garrick Tremain and Jim Hubbard, both more in the Lodge, Heath, and Scales tradition than some of their contemporaries. A well-established landscape painter living in Queenstown, Tremain took advantage of the new communications technology to become the Otago Daily Times cartoonist in 1988. Today, his chuckle-provoking work is syndicated to a handful of the provincial newspapers now more interested in running regular editorial cartoons. Hubbard, originally a commercial artist, joined his hometown Napier Daily Telegraph as editorial artist and cartoonist in 1985. There was a stint as Dominion cartoonist until 1992 and today, more innovatively, his cartoons are displayed, and available, on the New Zealand Press Association’s website.

Shapers of national identity Editorial cartoons have played a part in creating a visual New Zealand identity and in shaping and reinforcing a number of stereotypes. ‘Zealandia’—imagined by poets as early as the 1850 sin timeless Grecian costume, bare-footed, hair loosely knotted—was given substance as a national symbol by a number of cartoonists from the mid-1860s until the new century (see illustration on page 9). 33 Before too long New Zealanders were, though, showing a preference for the kiwi, with Trevor Lloyd probably the first artist to use the flightless, near-blind bird to symbolise New Zealand.

Over the decades, there were marked changes to the cartoon stereotypes of the groups that dominated the political and economic scene. In the years following J. C. Blomfield’s scene-setting 1905 cartoon (see illustration on page 11), the farmer lost his American look, the cheerful worker evolved into the leering IWW [lndustrial Workers of the World] agitator or brutish ‘Red Fed’; the roly-poly capitalist was to become the exploiting ‘Mr Fat’. Pre-war and during 1914-18, unions and Labour were the enemy in political cartoons. Syndicalism was a giant, wriggling snake; agitators puffed huge cigars as they trampled unwilling workers underfoot. By the 1930 s the farmer was now just another New Zealander in open-necked shirt and gumboots and Mr Fat had disappeared, even from Labour party publications. The most pervasive cartoon stereotype remaining was of the militant unionist and he was more and more likely to be a watersider.

Editorial cartooning in New Zealand has largely been an Anglo-Saxon male preserve. However, the short roll call of Maori cartoonists includes Oriwa Haddon; Harry Dansey, better known as the first race relations conciliator; James Waerea, Truth cartoonist during the 19905, after Wrathall’s lengthy stint; and Anthony Ellison, who drew tough, uncompromising cartoons for several dailies and weeklies

before, in the late 19905, opting for ambiguity in idiosyncratic Listener cartoons. As elsewhere, women have been hardly represented at all: Gillian Fraser contributed striking covers to the PSA Journal in the late 1970 s and Helen Courtney’s deceptively simple cartoons graced Broadsheet pages in the 1980 s.

Perhaps ironically, since the early 19905, when the New Zealand Cartoon Archive was established, in part to honour an exceptional cartooning tradition, and to build on the portfolio of very early David Low cartoons in the Turnbull, 34 there has been a grey period in the country’s black and white art. As the established cartoonists have aged, their work showing signs of weariness, younger artists and designers with flair are, it seems, not interested in politics. Instead, several have established international reputations as creators of ‘graphic novels’. More recently, the amalgamation of the Dominion and the Evening Post in Wellington has further reduced the handful of career cartooning spots. (In 2006 there are four metropolitan newspapers in New Zealand, with both in the South Island using the same cartoonist; in the mid-1970s there were eight metropolitans.)

When Malcolm Evans lost his job at the New Zealand Herald, the newspaper’s proprietors looked across the Tasman for his replacement. Rod Emmerson is a talented cartoonist, but his winning of the Qantas cartooning award in successive years, before he had fully mastered the local political scene and its principal protagonists, may be a sobering commentary on the current state of editorial cartooning in New Zealand. As is the fact that three of the country’s best cartoonists—Ball, Bromhead, and Hodgson—are not considered ‘safe’ for daily editorial cartooning duties.

The Art of Caricature Caricature, with its direct assault on the physical characteristics of politicians and other notables, long pre-dates the cartoon. There has been sporadic interest in caricature in New Zealand, but it is mostly a by-product of cartooning. The most sustained period of quality caricature was the ‘Press Portraits’ series run by Christchurch’s Weekly Press between 1899 and 1905, over 100 full-page caricatures of leading national and South Island personalities drawn by W. A. Bowring, a prominent Canterbury artist. In the 19205, George Finey, by then in Australia, was rated one of the world’s top caricaturists of the period. In the 1930 s J. T. Allen drew impressive caricatures in the Christchurch Press and Australian Noel Counihan produced a gallery of prominent New Zealanders in the Observer during the period. Some cartoonists merely strive for a reasonable likeness; others, like National Business Review's Bob Brockie, are excellent caricaturists. Undoubtedly, though, the modern day master is Dunedin’s Murray Webb, internationally acclaimed for caricatures that get to the essence of the politicians, sportspeople, and personalities he draws, his pencil wielded with scalpel-like precision.

Turnbull Library Record 39 (2006), 5-30

References 1 lan F. Grant, The Unauthorized Version: A Cartoon History of New Zealand (Auckland: Cassell New Zealand, 1980), p. 4. 2 Nicholas Garland, ‘Political Cartooning’, Quiplash (New Zealand Cartoon Archive newsletter), 7 (1998), 4-8. 3 John Marshall, Memoirs, 2 vols (Auckland: Collins, 1983), I (1912-60), p. 129. 4 Gordon Minhinnick, ‘Foreword’, in The Unauthorized Version, by lan F. Grant, p. 2. 5 Quoted in ‘Cartoonists Hung, Drawn and Quartered?’, Quiplash, 9 (2002), 4. 6 Margot Ross, ‘Otago’s Pioneer Punch', Otago Before, 3 (1994), 9-11 (p. 9). 7 James Bain, The Old Identities (Dunedin: Mills, Dick & Co., 1879), p. 394. 8 Grant, The Unauthorized Version, p. 8. 9 Vane Lindesay, The Inked-in Image: A Survey of Australian Comic Art (Melbourne: William Heinemann Australia, 1970).

10 lan F. Grant, ‘Blomfield, William’, Dictionary of New Zealand Biography Volume Four (19211940) (Auckland: Auckland University Press; Wellington: Department of Internal Affairs, 1998), pp. 68-69.

11 Matthew Basso, ‘Trevor Lloyd, Native Land, and the Contest over the European Racial Imagination in New Zealand’, Turnbull Library Record, 37 (2004), pp. 68-86. 12 lan F. Grant, ‘Minhinnick, Gordon Edward George’, Dictionary of New Zealand Biography Volume Four (1921-1940) (Auckland: Auckland University Press; Wellington: Department of Internal Affairs, 1998), pp. 351-52. 13 lan Grant, ‘Cartoonists for Export, Insight, Auckland (December 1983), pp. 22-25. 14 Susan E. Foster, ‘Low, David Alexander Cecil’, Dictionary of New Zealand Biography Volume Four (1921-1940) (Auckland: Auckland University Press; Wellington: Department of Internal Affairs, 1998), pp. 293-294. 15 Colin Seymour-Ure and Jim Schoff, David Low (London: Seeker & Warburg, 1985). 16 Les Gibbard, letter to author, 16 May 1980. 17 lan F Grant, ‘The Kiwi Invasion that Never Stopped’, Bulletin, Sydney (15 November 1988). 18 Alan Moir, ‘Will Hope: Talent Not Recognised’, Quiplash, 9 (2002), 11. 19 Noel Hilliard, ‘Max Bollinger—The Man Behind Those 1951 Cartoons’, Sites, Massey University, Palmerston North, 16 (Autumn 1988), 37-43. 20 William Blomfield, ‘Extracts from ‘Bio’s’ Life’, Cartoonists’ Biography File, New Zealand Cartoon Archive, Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington. 21 Grant, The Unauthorized Version, p. 170.

22 David Low, ‘lntroduction’, in Andrew Kennaway Henderson, Cartoons from ‘Tomorrow’ by Kennaway (Christchurch: Christchurch Co-operative Book Society, 1942). 23 David Low, Low’s Autobiography (London: Michael Joseph, 1956), p. 42. 24 Grant, The Unauthorized Version , p. 171. 25 John Harvey, ‘A Little Well of Mockery: Political Cartooning in New Zealand’, in Dangerous Democracy? News Media Politics in New Zealand , ed. by Judy McGregor (Palmerston North: Dunmore Press, 1996), p. 62. 26 Malcolm Evans, ‘The political cartoonist’s right to freedom of expression’, Pacific Journalism Review, 10, no. 2 (2004), 71-80. 27 Haydon Manning and Robert Phiddian, ‘Censorship and the Political Cartoonist’, paper presented to the Australasian Political Studies Association Conference, University of Adelaide, 29 September-1 October 2004. 28 lan F. Grant, Between the Lines: A Cartoon Century of New Zealand Political and Social History (Wellington: New Zealand Cartoon Archive, 2005), p. vii. 29 Grant, The Unauthorized Version, p. 200. 30 Grant, The Unauthorized Version, p. 200. 31 Grant, The Unauthorized Version, p. 202. 32 Grant, The Unauthorized Version, 2nd edn (Auckland: David Bateman, 1987), p. 234. 33 Richard Corballis, ‘Serenades and Portraits: A Sesquicentennial Tribute to Zealandia (Part 2)’, Turnbull Library Record, 38 (2005), 65-83. 34 Pat Lawlor, ‘The Early Drawings of David Low’, Turnbull Library Record, 4 (1941), 1-6.