I bring in The New Yorker last week with this cover on it. I study it – think I’m missing something – then realize, “Nope. It’s a shitty iPhone drawing of bowl and a spoon without any fun extra-contextual jazz.” And I’ve been thinking that they’ve been giving Jorge Colombo a few too many covers, but at least the guy is a master with the Brushes app. But I’m thinking that it seems like he phoned this one in. So I flip to the table of contents. This is not a Colombo drawing. Cover by DAVID HOCKNEY. Now I get it. He’s famous. I know that Hockney has been working with Brushes over the past few months, but it seems like his use is still incredibly mundane. So complaining about The New Yorker pandering to fame seems a bit unnecessary. I realize this. This is why the poetry and fiction have been usually unreadable for some many years. But, Francoise Mouly’s art direction was always something I respected on another level. Her choices are almost impeccable. This one let me down, though. The famous guy has learned to play with an iPhone, so let’s give him the cover. C’mon, Francoise, I expect better.
November 7, 2019
June 7, 2019