Tag Archives: cartoons

Worth a thousand words

18 Apr

You can almost see the brushstrokes:

When you’re adding a picture to a news story for the web, of course you have to write a caption. But you will also be asked to create some “alt text” – a brief, embedded description of the photograph that is invisible under normal circumstances, but may appear if you hover your pointer over it in the browser. By far alt text’s most useful function is that it can be read out loud by a screen reader – a piece of software that translates a web page into the spoken word for visually impaired computer users.

That means, of course, that you probably can’t just cut and paste the caption you’ve just written: this is no place for snark or commentary. If the photo is of the Alabama lacrosse team celebrating after breaking an 0-for-7 start, your caption may say “Tide: off the schneid”, but the alt text needs to say “Alabama lacrosse team players celebrating”.

And if that’s true for photographs, it’s equally true for cartoons. What’s being portrayed may be a little more, er, unusual, but that doesn’t alter the nature of the task: you still have to provide a faithful verbal description of what the illustration shows. Have confidence, and the muscular metaphors of the political cartoonist will come to life in the mind’s eye almost as surely as if they were looking at the original watercolour.

You could practically display them in a gallery:

 

Sketch writing

5 Jul

You can tell when he’s finished by the sound of the hairdryer starting up. A couple of hours before deadline, looking up from his watercolour box and reference boards full of politicians’ faces, the Tribune’s cartoonist will put down his brushes and pick up the office dryer to blow-dry the paint on his cartoon before bringing it over. (No time to wait for it to dry, of course; this is a newspaper). Then, he’ll casually carry it across the office, colours glistening on the cartridge paper, and hand it to the production desk – a fragile, analogue piece of journalism in a digital world.

Before that moment, of course, ideas have been discussed, copy read in preview, and a detailed rough sketch has been presented. That’s when we on the subs’ desk swing in to action, checking captions, lettering, speech balloons and so on. Everything gets edited. No tiny detail escapes us. Especially not on the bewildering and unhappy subject of Britain’s departure from the EU, summed up by an ugly portmanteau word that now echoes, to our shame, around the world.

Here’s this week’s:

Brexitsketch

Yep, that looks fine.

 

Due to a cartooning error …

21 Jul

Some corrections make one hang one’s head in shame:

Screen Shot 2015-07-20 at 13.27.05

Others, however, not so much:

Screen Shot 2015-07-20 at 18.16.54

Every four years, thanks to the generous human resources policies at the Tribune, the chief sub gets a sabbatical of between four and eight weeks and it falls to me, as his normally carefree deputy, to actually earn my salary and take the reins of the business section while he’s away.

When you’re the chief sub, no matter how big the paper or the pages you produce, you feel personally responsible for all of it. In fact, the Tribune’s weekly biz section is small enough that you can lay out all the pages, pick all the photos and revise all the articles yourself, if they’re filed in good time. But that means the pain is all the sharper when you discover something that passed before your eyes popping up in the corrections column.

The first mistake was just infuriating, especially when one prides oneself on one’s punctiliousness in compound hyphenation; but it is an embarrassing classic of the genre, especially as it inadvertently touches so closely on a real issue of ethnicity and opportunities.

The second one, though … I’m not entirely sure there can even be a mistake in a cartoon. An apology for a lapse of taste, certainly: but a factual correction?

Presumably, this isn’t a serious undertaking to observe strict realism in all visual jokes – because once you start correcting metaphors, where do you stop? The cartoon also shows Jean-Claude Juncker at the wheel of a vehicle bearing the livery of the “EU Euro Police”: to clarify, perhaps we should make clear that there is no such organisation. Nor, to the paper’s knowledge, has Alexis Tsipras ever been the victim of a rear-end collision near the offramp to “Grexit” while driving an overloaded hatchback painted in the colours of the Greek flag.

In newspapers that never publish corrections unless forced to, there is never any need for a clarification to be other than brief and to the point. The existence of a regular corrections column in every issue of the paper, by contrast, is possibly the single most significant indicator of editorial probity a paper can make. But it does mean that the column can suffer from the same problem that afflicts the rest of the paper: that it has to be filled, no matter how much or little material there is that day.

Many readers’ editors have bylined weekly slots for longer discussions about grey areas or lighter matters, but the corrections column itself  – 200 or so words, five or six days a week, rain or shine –  is a 1,200-word job that has to be delivered no matter how few readers have complained.

So one thing that’s tending to happen is that the ambit of the column is starting to widen. The Guardian has taken to occasionally correcting instances where house style has not been followed, even though the word that was used instead is not incorrect, such as this example involving ‘wrack’ and ‘rack’:

Screen Shot 2015-07-20 at 18.17.07

(“Rack” is greatly to be preferred in this case, of course, and I would always delete the “w” myself. But both spellings for that definition appear in Collins, which means that it’s not a homophone but a variant, and arguably not a “mistake” at all – more an internal point of interest for staff.)

And, because the never-ending roll of errors can be depressing to recount, the other thing that’s tending to happen is that levity and tonal variation are being introduced: here, for example, the Guardian introduces some tennis-themed kickers to its Wimbledon corrections:

Screen Shot 2015-07-20 at 18.59.57

It’s all harmless fun, I suppose – and I’ve never yet seen anyone be foolish enough to make a joke over an actual apology or retraction. But it does indicate that something is starting to change – that the Fleet Street corrections column is moving from being an innovation to being an institution: part of the show, almost.

In a newspaper culture whose traditional response to mistakes was silence and defiance, that might be something to celebrate. But for an appointed outsider like an ombudsman, whose independence, even from the editor-in-chief, is supposedly total, it might be something to be wary of too.