Advertisement
Advertisement
SCMP’s 120th anniversary
Get more with myNEWS
A personalised news feed of stories that matter to you
Learn more
Illustration: Harry Harrison

Being the South China Morning Post cartoonist is possibly more challenging than ever before

  • Humour has got a lot trickier in these woke times – the Post’s long-time political cartoonist reflects on his work as the paper celebrates its 120th anniversary

I started drawing as soon as I could hold a pencil and didn’t stop. When I was 15, my art teacher told my parents I could have a career in serious art if I applied myself and stopped drawing silly pictures to make my mates laugh.

But I worked in a supermarket and in interior design until deciding, at 26, that I wanted to be an illustrator. I found work in Sydney and Hong Kong before returning to London. Cartooning was a sideline at that time.

I first came to Hong Kong because I was running out of money while backpacking in Thailand. I fell in love with the city because of its diversity. I also really liked the people. Despite that gruff exterior, the Cantonese have hearts of gold and would do anything to help you.

After further travels, I returned to Hong Kong in 1994. It was only supposed to be for a few months. But my wife and I have been here ever since. When the South China Morning Post needed a new cartoonist, they asked me to pitch ideas and then to go into the office and do it for real. It was a nail-biting time. I never imagined I would be the Post’s cartoonist for the next 22 years.

Some days, the stories on the news list spark my imagination straightaway. I sketch roughs and send one after another until the editors pick one. That’s on a good day. Sometimes I spend a long time staring at a blank piece of paper and the ideas come only after panic sets in.

Other times, I send roughs and no one gets back to me for a long time. I think the record is 15. When that happens, I assume they hate all my ideas. But it turns out the editors are just in meetings. Once an idea is picked, I tweak the rough, then ink it up on a lightbox, put a grey wash on it, scan and send.

I use a panda to represent China and he is one of my favourites. The two old guys with the bird are based on people I have known. All the other characters are fictional.

The jury is out on whether cartooning is still important in the age of social media. But I think some among the younger generation still appreciate the older skills. When they are bombarded by very same-y modern media, the retro stuff stays with a lot of people.

Humour has got a lot trickier in these woke times. But it is still very important. It can cheer you up, but it can also confirm what you were thinking and even help you get your head around a complex issue. I sometimes get complaints, but usually from people who have misunderstood the cartoon. I have developed a very thick skin. You need that in this job.

Harry Harrison’s favourite cartoon, from 2016.
My favourite cartoon is from 2016, when a bookseller mysteriously went missing. One of my stock characters, the old lady with cat-eye glasses, is at the high-speed railway inquiries desk after they’d said the service wouldn’t be as fast as they’d initially claimed. She’s saying: “There must be a quicker way to get me to Guangdong” and the guy behind the desk replies: “You could always try opening a bookshop”. That one went viral.

Being the cartoonist for the SCMP started out as a real challenge and I didn’t know whether I’d sink or swim. I’m still at it all these years later, so I assume I’m still swimming. But it is possibly even more challenging than when I started.

I feel greatly privileged to have documented the changes and upheavals we’ve witnessed over the years. When I see people looking at my cartoon on the ferry or in a cafe or bar, I get a huge surge of pride – as long as it’s a good reaction, of course!

10