Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Jesse Duquette. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Jesse, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.
For me, there is no time before wanting to pursue art as a professional endeavor. Some of my earliest memories are of pouring through my dad’s old Zap Comics and Heavy Metal magazines (at far too young an age, an early exposure for which I am eternally grateful), both mesmerized by the artwork and gobsmacked that people actually got to do this sort of thing for a living.
As a 3 or 4-year-old I was obsessively immersed in Shel Silverstein books and in awe that such deceptively simple pen-and-ink illustrations could convey so many feelings and conjure so many worlds. Instead of carrying a stuffed animal with me as a companion, I was forever with a pen and pad clutched in my tiny fists (a habit that persists to this day; on a recent family vacation to Hawai’i, I toted my drawing stuff around to every beach and excursion we went on).
And while most 8-year-olds might daydream about being superheroes or astronauts or athletes, I was imagining what it must be like to be Berkeley Breathed, knocking out a couple “Bloom County” strips each day in his (probably) super cool home studio surrounded by a smoky ocean of pencils and ink-stained paper.
Jesse, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
My focus on political art began accidentally during the very start of the Trump administration when Sean Spicer insisted that the crowd size at Trump’s inauguration was the largest ever in the history of all time. You know, like any normal person would when giving a presidential press conference. I drew a picture of him making this claim, added a quote from George Orwell to accompany it, and posted it on social media with the promise that I would continue to document every day of the Trump presidency with a drawing until the very end.
I was drawing for an audience of one (myself) and mainly used the daily documentation as a method for getting out whatever anger, disgust, or eye-rolling was provoked by that day’s events. It was therapeutic during a period of such uncertainty. Much to my eternal surprise, people actually started following along with the project and sending me messages expressing their appreciation for someone articulating their fears and anger into cartoonish imagery.
Even more surprising, I actually made good on my promise and made it through the entire four years (and then some) with a cartoon or two every day. That monastic regimen and dedication resulted in two books, a couple art shows, and a whole community of people connected through silly, often immature doodles. That I actually saw something to completion, and managed to touch others around the world, was and is a source of pride and immense shock.
Any insights you can share with us about how you built up your social media presence?
My audience grew on social media in spite of any strategic action or tactic on my part. It happened organically and regardless of what I was drawing, even when I thought what I was making would alienate others. If there is any lesson to be learned from my experience, it’s this: that artistic expression is communication, and what attracts others to that communication is access to the inner voice of another human being. As long as you stick with what that inner voice is communicating to you, and what you create is a manifestation of yourself, others will be drawn to your output.
My advice to anyone wanting to “build their social media presence” is: don’t. Altering your expression in an attempt to cater to an audience is the wrong direction to orient your focus. What typically draws attention in the first place happens in the absence of any audience or attention. This is why people often favor a band’s first record over their discography: pure artistic expression, before outside influence or fame-chasing softens the edges and dulls the product. Focus instead on what matters to YOU, what YOU want to hear or see. If you have something to say, in a way that is uniquely, you, others will notice.
Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?
Making political art is by its nature combative and implies taking sides. And anyone drawing a breath in the 2020s knows full well how polarizing political conversation has become. During the four years I illustrated Trump’s presidency, I mostly encountered friendly people and encouragement. But the drawings have also provoked a different response, one that is darkly hostile. So many hateful messages, replete in grammatical errors and cultish animosity, and more than a few that included outright threats.
It would have been easiest to just stop making drawings that invited such toxicity, to just remove myself from an endeavor that was predicated on pushing buttons. But I’m more than a little immature, and button-pushing is a feature of political art that I enjoy too much. Every angry word salad DM, every attempt to stop me from drawing have only served to make me want to get further under the skin of my detractors. And so, I did with the firm belief that, if you’re making the opposition angry, you’re doing something right,
Contact Info:
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_jesseduquette/