The passion it takes to make political cartoons

LAKEVILLE — Istvan Banyai doesn’t like it when editors change his drawings — especially when he feels they don’t know what they’re talking about. 

As he leafed through decades of his meticulously detailed illustrations — of presidents, cartoon characters and provocatively dressed women — Banyai paused and tapped his computer screen.

“This one, I think, they ruined,” he said, with a grimace. As though the insult occurred yesterday, he exclaimed, “When I submit these drawings, they are my absolute best attempt, and I truly believe it’s good, or I wouldn’t send it in the first place. For an editor, or anyone else, to tell me, ‘change this, change that’ — it’s insulting.”

Pausing for a moment, Banyai shrugged and said, “It’s like asking a chef to remove a spice from his food. Without the spice, it’s no longer the same dish.”

The cover in question was for the Atlantic Monthly’s 2009 fiction issue, and depicted a man reading a book, with novels and famous artistic works scattered around him. In the center of the image, a bright fireplace commands the eye.

“They said, change the color of the type, make the walls bright red,” said Banyai. “And so I did, because you have no choice. But the cover that went to print was not as good as what I sent them. The colors are wrong, and the fireplace doesn’t stand out like I intended.”

Banyai received similar requests for countless submissions; The New Yorker rejected or significantly altered Banyai’s most edgy illustrations.

The money wasn’t good either — making Banyai skeptical of whether it was even possible today for a graphic illustrator to sustain themselves on freelance work. 

While pay has increased slightly for submissions, it has not kept pace with inflation. “In 1980, a New Yorker cover went for $4,500,” Banyai said. “Today, decades later, it’s $5,000. You can’t support children with wages like that.”

Banyai’s wife, Kati, entered her husband’s studio, espresso and macaroons in hand. 

“You have to understand,” she said, “he says these things, and they are all true, but he is also a very positive man who loved what he did.”

In her interjections, often shouted from an adjacent room, Kati was quick to temper her husband’s strongest statements. Yes, it was trying at times, but Banyai immensely enjoyed his work. No, the youth of today aren’t failing us, but our universities are. No, art is not simply going downhill. Of course not. 

Her husband would always agree, albeit sometimes grudgingly.

Banyai’s meticulous work, too, betrayed his true love for his craft. After a phone call or email from a client (most frequently The New Yorker or Playboy magazine), preliminary sketches were sent back and forth until they were approved. Banyai carefully produces his final lines in pencil, and then scans them onto his computer. Digitally, the lines are made darker, until they resemble those of a pen. Finally, color and sometimes typography are added.

As he explained his process, Banyai paused. “This is boring — are you sure you want to write about this?”

Banyai’s work was then passed from the art director of the publication to the editor — the pivotal gatekeeper whose opinion either sends Banyai’s work to print, or begins a long series of excruciating edits. According to Banyai, art directors’ authority pales in comparison to that of editors, even when it comes to artwork.

“The people making these decisions don’t always recognize good work. They’re intelligent people, often, but they haven’t been trained like an art director. And when I resist what I think are bad changes, I’m called uncooperative.”

Banyai smiled. “When that happens they usually just print a photograph instead.”

Surrounded by a lifetime of work, much of which went through this grueling process, Banyai has no regrets. “I really did like doing it, which is why I did it for such a long time.”

The illustrator and his wife have downsized from an apartment in Manhattan and now live on a quiet street in Lakeville. Instead of grappling with editors, Banyai is attempting to organize and reduce what seem to be endless piles of artwork he has produced over his career.

After a 2013 exhibition at the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Mass., the illustrator now has stacks of his artwork reprinted on postcard-sized paper.

In their endeavor to organize, I was handed an armful of miniature Banyai work. Delighted, I’m happy to help in any way I can.