All Shook Up with Mark Stutzman

An unreserved chat with the artist behind the Elvis stamp and his experiences working with McDonald's and Batman

I had the pleasure of interviewing Mark Stutzman on March 16, 2024. Below is our conversation in its entirety.

The kick off.

Mark, I’m chuffed to bits to get to talk to you. 

Thank you. It’s my pleasure.

Some folks may be surprised to know your work’s been a significant part of cinema culture and pop culture for many years now. In my own life and memory this goes back to the Nineties with Batman Returns and the infamous young Elvis stamp. Surely you get a lot of comments from people who think fondly of your art?

Occasionally [laughing]. Like your introduction, it’s heartwarming when someone mentions the McDonald’s collector cups. It’s a bit of nostalgia, and hard to believe that some of the work is still on people’s bookshelves or part of someone’s treasured collection. Sometimes I’ll hear from someone compelled to throw me a compliment.

Do people ever ask you for art tips?

That’s the most difficult question to answer since each artist needs to develop their own unique approach. It is nice to hear from folks from time to time who just want to make contact.

Are you able to appreciate all of that, or would you rather kind of go unseen and have your work speak for itself?

I have learned to accept praise, but it can be uncomfortable at times. I’m generally a private person, which is probably why I was willing to devote so much time to drawing and painting.

Does that screw with your personal life?

Well, it’s isolating to the point where you can become a recluse, skipping diner invitations, nights out, and general fun with friends. Working against a deadline gives you no choice but to keep your nose to the grindstone.

Have you ever been so wrapped up in the work that you started to feel like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole?

I view my work as a separate entity from myself. I hope it is far more interesting than me. When I look back at older work, my connection to it becomes more remote with time. How I got from A to Z can fade away. I think it’s because I’m still working, so the minute something is completed, I’m moving on to the next project. So, yes, praise is always encouraging and appreciated, but it’s not what motivates me to make art.

And what does?

Professional recognition is paramount to keep me employed [laughter].

Childlike wonder.

[Laughing] I love it. Now, before I get ahead of myself, let’s go back in time because I love hearing about how people grew up. Would you mind talking about some of your early memories?

Sure. I grew up in Ohio near Lake Erie. It was a fun place to be a kid. I have earlier memories, but some of my favorites happened while living in an old rented house on a cliff by the lake. We would walk down a million wooden steps to get to the beach that was covered in stinky dead fish and seaweed… the lake was terribly polluted back then. I remember a carpenter repairing the many stair treads down to the beach all summer long, and we might have to leap over some missing ones he was working on to either climb or descend them.

You meddling kids!

[Laughing] You know, I had a recurring nightmare while living there that a polar bear was chasing us, the kids, all around the house. I told everyone to go inside and get to the second floor to escape him, and I’d look out the window to see if the bear was still there.

Was he?

He’d gotten our stilts from the yard to get into the window.

Maybe he just wanted to play?

Or was hungry [laughing]. That was how my brain worked as a kid, and maybe it’s not so different even now.

Being able to make-believe is an undervalued skill.

When we’re young, our minds are more open to creativity because they’re less cluttered with the responsibilities and mandates of adulthood. Children are naive and believe what they’re told. They may also believe in magic, monsters, and unicorns.

My childhood was lovely because I had great parents, and I know I’m lucky in that regard… I think on that time in my life with a lot of affection.

It’s the best phase of life. I find that people who pursue art are more likely to have kept the shackles of adulthood at bay.

Absolutely. I have a day job which, if I’m being 100% honest, almost completely drains my creative juices.

There is an innocence in creativity that can’t be nurtured amongst the clutter of grown-up thinking. Pablo Picasso once said, “Learning to draw like a child takes a lifetime.” It’s the free will and spirit that allows and motivates creativity. A willingness to believe in things others no longer do. When I was a kid, I was the youngest in a family of five kids, so there are fewer expectations on you… especially in a family that size, so that made me pretty carefree as a kid.

Did you get away with murder being the baby of the family?

Oh, my mom said I was the easy one because all I needed was pencils and paper [laughter]. I would stay busy for hours. That never changed, and the hours I would sit got longer and longer. It was so important to me, without any explanation, and I just knew if I saw something that intrigued me that I wanted to draw it. One time, a caricaturist traveled through our town, and I have no idea why but he was set up in our yard and offered to draw my picture.

That ain’t weird at all [laughter].

Today that would be a major red flag [laughing]. But I sat for him, and the reveal was amazing! I was so disappointed that I couldn’t watch him draw, but he captured me so accurately. I knew that I wanted to be able to do that.

What kind of kid were you?

I was a busy kid. I was rarely bored because I always had some project or experiment I was doing, and I loved playing outside. When we moved from the lake further inland, there was a huge wooded area and orchard nearby that I and my best friend Angelo would play in. We built forts out of twigs and brush, and would make campfires because we were idiots. I spent tons of time on my bike and tried unsuccessfully to learn how to unicycle because our neighbor had one. We built go carts and raced them wherever we could find a hill. That’s not easy in Ohio [laughter].

Early influences.

Did you get into comic books at all?

I was not a reader, but rather a picture person. My first magazine splurge was for MAD Magazine. It was an issue with a parody of the Poseidon Adventure, a big hit at the time. I was about thirteen then, so it was speaking directly to me.

It was around 1988 when I first started noticing comics, mainly Ninja Turtles, and the pull I felt toward those books was so exciting to me. What was it about MAD Magazine that sucked you in?

I loved the Jack Davis and Mort Drucker caricatures, and the massive amount of art from cover to cover. It was also irreverent and hilarious. I have never collected comics, but I love the art form. I didn’t have a lot of money to spend on hobbies, so what I did have mostly went to art supplies.

Did you grow up watching television too?

TV was still in its infancy when I was a kid. I remember getting our first black and white console television. It was a big deal, but there wasn’t much on it that interested me. Then, they announced the premiere of Batman in 1966, and I was so excited and couldn’t wait for it to come out. I remember counting down the days to the night of the premiere, January 12^th.

You remembered the actual date?

I had looked it up [laughter]. The problem was my parents were invited to some friend’s house to play cards on that same night of the 12^th. I had to go with my parents because their friends had two kids who were also my age, who I didn’t care about.

Batman was far more important.

I pleaded with my parents to be home in time to watch it at 8:00 PM, which they agreed to. And you have to remember you couldn’t record shows back then, so you had to tune in when a show was scheduled to air.

How’d you feel when you saw it?

With all the buildup, I was bound to be disappointed… which I was. I thought it was going to be dark and scary, and Batman was a dork! He looked like a stuffed sausage in pajamas.

[Laughing] The suit wasn’t very flattering on Adam West, God rest his soul.

I learned to like the show once I figured out it was supposed to be campy and comedic. But mostly my sister and I would mock it and how stupid it was.

There’s an episode where Batman sort of warns the young viewers of the dangers of not getting a university degree. Kinda funny because, as far as I know, Bruce Wayne isn’t Harvard-educated.

Yes [laughter]. The moral messages were fodder for sarcasm. I’m probably offending a million people by saying that.

Did you have the proclivity for illustration even as a kid?

My family was crafty. Into knitting, sewing, woodworking, ceramics, weaving. My oldest sister Debi also liked to draw. She was quite good and spurred me on to get better. Although she never pursued it professionally, I credit her with providing me with lots of inspiration. My sister Denise recently recalled an A-B-C book I drew in kindergarten. It was an assignment to draw a picture for each letter. Oh boy, I thought.

Just like in A Christmas Story when Ralphie’s teacher says she wants the students to write… a theme.

Yes [laughter], an assignment! Most kids would have dreaded it, but I got to work thinking of all sorts of animals using the letters. When I got to Z, I put all the animals from the previous letters in cages for the last page – a zoo. Denise commented how beyond my years the little book was. I still have it because my mother saved anything that was handmade.

Sounds like your family really nourished that ability in you.

I liked drawing people and living things the most. My mother hounded me to paint her pictures of milk cans with wildflowers, or tree still lifes. My siblings were all academics. Me… not so much [laughing]. I did okay in school, but it bored me to tears.

The Seventies.

Almost everyone I talk to has an experience that stays with them from childhood to adulthood. Maybe it’s the first time they heard the Beatles, or their first time seeing Star Wars, or whatever. Did you have a moment like that at all?

Wow, that’s a tough one. I tend to take it all in without choosing favorite. Being a teen in the 70s was a whirlwind. People were still holding sock hops to reminisce about more innocent times. Then there was the dreaded war in Vietnam, bra burnings, Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In… afros, and bell-bottoms with platform shoes.

Fleetwood Mac snorting coke and smashing up the charts.

Oh yeah [laughter]. Stevie Wonder, Bowie, Elton John, Queen. On television there was The Munsters, Gilligan’s Island reruns, All in the Family, Soul Train, Sesame Street. At the theaters it was Jaws, The Exorcist, Saturday Night Fever, Taxi Driver. So, it wasn’t so much a single thing as a time and a place. I find a defining moment difficult to pluck out since it feels more like a tapestry of impact.

I was born in the late 70s, but I think about the Eighties and Nineties the same way you just said… it was an amazing place in time that can’t be replicated. 

The 60s and 70s seemed a time when youth was distancing itself from the previous generation at lightning speed. Parents didn’t like the same things as their kids because it was starkly different, less innocent, and often raw or vulgar. The youth were considered more “hip” or progressive than their parents, who were deemed too “uptight.” But creative expression in film, television, and music was off the charts. Hearing music in stereo for the first time was mind-blowing, too. It sounds stupid now, but it was a big deal.

It seemed like that time was a much more nurturing era, at least for artists.

When I was about fifteen, I was in an art class with a student teacher who commandeered our classroom for a semester. She talked about commercial art and all the applications for it. The light went off in my head, and I realized that was where my ship was headed. I had a million questions for her, as if she were my private tutor [laughing]. One assignment she gave us was making a television graphic, and from then on, I began to notice artwork used in publishing, packaging, and television. Knowing I could be paid to be creative, I felt my future beginning to unfold. 

That’s a weird time in life because the four years of high school feels like your whole life, and it feels like an eternity while you’re living it… then it just suddenly ends.

My brain was exploding. I couldn’t wait to tell my parents that there was a school to teach me exactly what I wanted to learn. When it came time to figure out my future after high school, I was fortunate to have met Floyd, a representative from the Art Institute of Pittsburgh, or AIP. He was visiting high schools to recruit new students. When he spoke to me, I felt he was the first person who understood what was rolling around in my noggin. He gave me some brochures that showed kids sitting at easels and drawing classrooms and package designs done by art students.

Was this around the time when maybe you first said, hey, you know what, I’m actually pretty damn good at this art thing?

[Laughing] That is such a great question. Even when I was little, people would say, “You’re quite the artiste!” I hated that expression because it felt like a mockery of something I coveted. It was the long “e” sound that was an American butchering of French that made me bristle. Back in high school I had a better sense of how I measured up to my peers. My best friend, Rhonda, was in art class with me and she was super talented, and we talked about art constantly. She took me on a day trip to my first art museum in Baltimore.

She sounds like a great wingman.

Rhonda and I praised each other when we hit individual milestones. There was one particular moment when my ability to draw hit an arch. I was working on a portrait of a high school classmate, and I suddenly saw the true dimension in my drawing. Everything shifted at that moment, and I felt I really understood what I was striving for. Of course, the learning never ends, and not everything hits the mark.

Did you find the school system in those days supportive to the arts?

Looking back, I had the absolute best art teachers growing up. Seeing how school systems hack away at arts programs to cut costs kills me. Like me, not every child is destined for higher education, but the non-academic types still have something valuable to contribute. All of my teachers were working artists, so they generated an income outside of teaching. They latched on to me because I was a sponge and eager to learn everything I could.

Which mediums were you using?

By the time I graduated high school, I had dabbled in just about every medium. But in my senior year Mr. Voit, my art teacher, taught me to make gesso and bought me materials to paint a 4’ x 6’ canvas. I would stay after school to work on it and do my thing while he masterfully painted watercolors.

I love that. Teachers who go the extra mile are precious… and I think teachers in general really are unsung heroes.

He was a true mentor who endorsed my professional pursuit of art. I also had a guidance counselor and she helped me choose my senior-year classes. Back then, the mandates for graduation were more lax. She pulled me out of advanced math so I could have two art classes. I ended up drawing her portrait for the high school yearbook because she too was moving on, only she was retiring, and I was just getting started.

Off to college.

Did Floyd from Pittsburgh manage to sway you to go there after high-school?

Yes, I went to AIP. It was a two-year vocational school, unlike the four-year programs my siblings attended. I promised my parents I’d work hard and get the most from it I could. I know my parents were apprehensive, but I was hardly Ivy League material, so they agreed to take me to the big city. I remember the school was gritty and had an old elevator with only a cage door, and an elevator operator. I was lapping up its grunginess while my parents were looking around with some concern [laughter].

They must’ve been worried about leaving you [laughing].

When the tour ended, I said it was perfect, and it would become my home for the next two years. I kept up my end of the bargain and worked really hard, and also earned two tuition scholarships while there, which really helped out. I would bring schoolwork home to show my parents what I was learning. They didn’t fully understand it, but remained supportive. They were validated when I landed an internship at the number one television station in the city. It led to a full-time position, which launched my career as a professional artist. 

And your resume is as professional as it gets… I can’t even get to it all. McDonalds, DC Comics, and PBS? I mean, c’mon, fugeddaboutit.

I feel so fortunate to have worked with some amazing people and on incredible projects, but I was kind of plugging along and hit a wall in the late 80s and early 90s.

Are you referring to the ups and downs of a specific workplace, or the business in general?

It seemed to me that the work was becoming dull and meaningless. The illustration business has ebbs and flows of creative bursts. There’s times when it’s lather, rinse, repeat. I remember I said to myself in the late 80s, “If I have to illustrate one more computer keyboard, I’m gonna shoot myself.” Computers were sooo cool.

Were you getting tired of repetition? Or was there some kind of rejection happening with your work?

I don’t generally know if I’ve been passed up for another illustrator or photographer on an assignment. It really boils down to who’s right for which job, and I’m not right for everything. I try not to take things too personally when that happens, but it can nag at you if you feel your work isn’t connecting with someone. The worst response you can get after delivering artwork is, “Thank you.” Thank you? Really?

Imagine someone saying ‘thank you’ after you just planted what you thought was your best kiss on them.

Yeah [laughing]. Thank you? That’s it?

It must be nerve-wracking when you’re waiting for someone to say yes or no to a piece you’ve submitted.

After spending weeks to paint an image I still hold my breath after a job is delivered. Until I get a response, I’m on pins and needles. It may not make me better at my craft, but I’m always giving one-hundred percent to an assignment to avoid disappointing someone or myself. The saying goes, “You’re only as good as your last piece.” And that is exactly how it feels. Illustrators are under constant pressure to make the next piece their very best. It doesn’t always work out that way, I’m sad to say

The days of print.

You mentioned the late Eighties earlier. I wish we could all go back there for just a while sometimes… before the internet reigned supreme.

I couldn’t agree with you more.

Do you find working in print media during those years was limiting, frustrating, or freeing?

My teeth were cut on print media, and I’m glad for it. The expression went, “Print is the medium,” meaning it didn’t matter how good an original piece of art looked if it wasn’t going to print well. And there were plenty of limitations on what could print accurately. My early work included colored pencil that would sometimes scream forward in print media.

In what way?

It could look dreadful and embarrassing… as if I had no idea how to control the medium. So, I abandoned the colored pencils. It steered me in a different direction out of desperation. But it's not bad, as I learned workarounds that I like. Because print was rather limiting, when something printed well, it was glorious and merited a champagne toast. And the publishing business exploded through the 1990s.

Magazines are an art form that I miss. I read Wizard religiously throughout the 90s.

I still dig print media. I have tons of books that I bought because they had beautiful photography or subjects I liked, and I would use them as references. But now I can just google search references more quickly than thumbing through old books. Printing has also gotten far less expensive. Printing in full color in the 80s and 90s was only for big-budget projects. Every illustrator had to have a good black-and-white style because color was a luxury. I like that more opportunities for print are accessible to lower-budget projects now.

The camaraderie of it all was what was so great. Just flipping through a comic book in a shop might lead to chit-chatting with people who you might not normally talk to, if they were into the same titles or whatever.

Magazine stands were a regular stop, and drug stores devoted a full aisle to numerous publications. Each issue required art or photography, so you can imagine how much creative staff and illustration work was generated. It was a great time to be in publishing. Book publishers still seem to be doing well. Not everyone wants a digital download. It is very different to actually turn pages than it is to swipe left. And with a good cover, they look terrific on the newsstands and shelves.

1989 was a good year for print… the Batman logo was all over everything.

You know, I was completely unaware of the Batmania thing prior to the release of Batman Returns.

Wait a sec… how did you miss out on Batmania?

I had never even encountered a comic book collector up until that time. I find that very odd looking back. It’s kind of crazy that it swerved around me. It wasn’t until working on the movie property that I was exposed to its enormity. I was in the eye of the storm, which is supposed to be calm. That wasn’t the case. 

Follow the Golden Arches.

Is this how the Batman Returns gig with McDonald’s came across your desk?

It actually came to me out of the blue. A Chicago ad agency that handled in-store premium development for McDonald’s started the collector cup series with another illustrator. But the McDonald’s team wanted a slightly different direction. They were looking for a hybrid style of 1920s retro backgrounds with more rendered foreground figures. Fortunately, I had worked on both techniques independently of each other, so they were hoping I could blend the two styles.

They’d seen your work and wanted you?

The ad agency called me up on a Friday, which I’ll never forget, and they laid out what they needed… and then dropped the bomb. Six illustrations in three weeks was the brief. They had fallen behind on production with the reboot of the project, so they were trying to recapture the lost time. I was so excited… and then the rug was pulled from under me. I had to decline the job, letting them know I couldn’t deliver a quality job in such a short time-frame. I was crushed.

Oh no. Were you kicking yourself?

After I hung up the phone, I kept second-guessing myself. Was I being rash? Was I being a baby? That was a horrible weekend of regret. Then Monday rolls around, and they call me back. They asked if I could get the job done in six weeks.

Say yes, Mark. Say yes! [laughter]

And I wasn’t playing hardball with them before either, I was just being realistic. Then came the threat: “If you don’t complete it in time, we will be charged $100,000 a day by the printer who has reserved their presses for printing the job.” I was confident I could do it, but it was not going to be easy.

What medium are the Batman pieces in? It looks like maybe watercolour.

You’re correct. The backgrounds are done with airbrush, using frisket masks, while the foreground characters are rendered in watercolor, gouache, and airbrush.

Airbrushing is kind of like spray paint?

Yes, it’s pretty much like a delicate version of spray paint. You can mix your own colors for the paint well and then spray any medium you like. The problem is that the paint freely travels through the air if it's not contained, so you use a low-tack transparent frisket, or “mask,” which can be cut with an X-ACTO knife to hold the shape you’re spraying.

Was this the more preferred method at the time? I mean, did it allow you to get the work done faster or better?

The medium allows smooth and relatively flawless transitions of color with razor-sharp edges. Spraying without a frisket mask can produce soft edges, which would be so tedious to render with a brush. It’s a quicker way of rendering modeled surfaces.

And I guess you can adjust the airbrush more easily than switching back and forth between traditional paint brushes?

The spray width can range from a narrow one-eighth inch to several inches wide, depending on how close you are to the surface and how much pressure you apply to the spray nozzle. It takes a good bit of practice to master. The biggest problem is you can’t make a mistake with transparent colors. It’s nearly impossible to repair an error.

How long did it take to make each one?

For the next six weeks, I had to complete one illustration per week from start to finish. I would wake up, go to work, have lunch, go to work, have dinner, go to work until I couldn’t anymore, and then go to bed. That was my routine for forty-two days straight. 

Did you pull it off?

Oh yeah. It was break-neck speed. One per week.

What’s interesting is that the Penguin was prominently featured on two cups. Do you recall the reasoning behind that?

I remember that being a thing. If we’re splitting hairs, Batman, Bruce Wayne, and the Batmobile were technically three Batman-ish cups. Catwoman appears twice, though on one she is out of costume sharing the spotlight with Bruce. McDonald’s wanted six cups total, so dividing up the movie stars was tricky.

The artwork isn’t based off of any publicity images that I’ve seen over the years, except for maybe the one of Keaton and Pfeiffer dancing.

Because the project was moving so quickly, Warner supplied limited resources, and much of it was fabricated. These blockbuster properties are so closely guarded. I had to sign non-disclosure agreements, and each piece of reference I got was documented. I can’t take full credit for some of the compositions because the previous work had lots of it figured out. I also got headshots for likenesses and some costume shots, but the rest of what I did developed from set design sketches and background models. The beauty of a tight deadline is that there isn’t time to fuck around [laughing].

And you totally nailed the likenesses of the three main stars. How did you manage that? Is it all in the hand and the eye?

Thank you for saying that. It’s a really important part of what I do. When I delivered the artwork for Catwoman, the creative director called to say, “That’s Michelle Pfeiffer out the window!” Well, I paused for a second since I had never heard that expression before.

That’s like someone pulling you aside and saying, hey, it’s really difficult to underestimate you [laughing].

It was a mid-west thing, I guess? Anyway, it meant it was a good likeness [laughter].

Does getting the actor’s likeness right come easy for you?

Getting a good likeness is a delicate process. If I have multiple angles of someone, I rely on them to understand someone’s appearance more fully, but ultimately, I stay true to a supplied picture that best fits the artwork. I’ll hire models as body doubles to create the poses and lighting I want, and then I just follow the reference for the head. I might add a lighting effect since many of the supplied celebrity images are pretty flat.

Keaton has such a distinctive face. In what ways do think your talent and the tools at your disposal criss-cross to help create such recognizable versions of people?

My working process is like an analog version of Photoshop. But I have the freedom to create whatever I want and whatever works. It’s not A.I. [laughing]. I’ve also learned that being more minimal when rendering a face, particularly with women, is generally more flattering. It’s easy to overwork a face to capture every little detail. I also like to exploit someone's best attributes and enhance their character. Slight exaggerations here and there can heighten good looks or notable features. Correcting asymmetry can also retain someone’s appearance while inflating their appeal.

You mean like, minimizing Jay Leno’s chin or something?

You know, George Clooney was very self-conscious of his chin, which is slightly asymmetrical. He adopted this somewhat flirty attribute where he often lowers his chin to the camera, then turns slightly to the side or cocks his head.

I don’t feel sorry for him. Handsome bastard.

Yeah, but then you put him in a Batman cowl, which is sculpted to be very symmetric, and it perfectly framed the only part of his face he was insecure about. The chin was an easy fix with an illustration, but I never really noticed it before that.

Okay, maybe now I feel a bit sorry for him [laughter]… but just a tiny bit. I’m guessing you wouldn’t have needed to minimize anything on Michelle?

Michelle has very distinctive lips, so much so that her lips became a pattern for collagen injections. Features come in packages, just like when you buy a car. And certain ones naturally go together. She has large pools for eyes and a chiseled jawline. Together, these features make her stunning. I’m not even sure she has a nose because I’m so distracted by her mouth and eyes.

Did the movie stars of Batman Returns have to give your work their stamp of approval?

When working with celebrity likenesses, your work is often scrutinized by the celebrity and their agents. They need to sign off before anything goes to press. Michelle had me pair down her thighs before she would approve the Catwoman pose.

Michelle Pfeiffer asked you to slim down her thighs?

Twice. I was making her Catwoman curvier than she would’ve liked… and when I saw Michelle in the film, I realized she was uber-sleek. That was one seductive cat, I must say, stitches and all.

She looked so great in the movie. Were any of the guys tough to deal with?

Men are typically less discerning with likenesses, so the boys had no comments [laughing]. But I did have a foible while painting Arnold Schwarzenegger as Mr. Freeze. When the art was sent for approval, his agent said, “I think you followed his double’s likeness.” Sure enough, someone had sent me reference material that was Arnold’s body double. They looked so much alike I couldn’t tell them apart. I’m amazed that the mistaken identity was noticed, but once I learned of the mistakes I could see how they were different… but the similarities were uncanny.

Do you recall any designs that got rejected? Maybe a Chip and Max Shreck cup?

Poor Max never came up [laughing]. With Batman Returns, we had such a fast turnaround that there was little time for back-and-forth or rejected ideas. Since there was a previous artist that had already started the project, many of the compositions and content were approved before I got involved. My role was more about execution than content development.

Did McDonald’s still have stipulations on what they wanted from you even though you only had a week?

One parameter they had was that each cup had to have a dominant color scheme, so any single cup could be quickly distinguished from the others. They also wanted the art to appear seamless as the cup was spun around. The left and right ends of the artwork had to match up. Fortunately, I didn’t need to concern myself with the arch of the artwork so that it followed the contour of the cup’s taper. The printer managed that. Other cup projects I did were more layered, with several development stages and the typical elimination process.

Do you remember the big vinyl banners? Did you create those?

Yes, I did create the black-and-white character artwork for them. I never saw them as they were used in-store, so that was a fun discovery. They had a McDonald’s yellow background.

I did some research, and apparently less than 300 sets of those banners were printed, and because they were so expensive only select locations ordered them.

That is a very small number of banners for a franchise of McDonald’s size. 

Was there ever a point when you got tired of seeing Batman everywhere or were you… lovin’ it?

“I’m lovin’ it!” [laughing] Yes, I was lovin’ it. The whole point of what I do is to make artwork that gets used to hell and back, that gets seen as widely as possible. The bigger, the better. The Batman & Robin movie in particular was an enormous licensing success. With the previous films in the archives, DC Comics and Warners had a solid history that landed lots of products on the shelves. I remember seeing toy stores with my artwork on anything and everything.

My dad was on a mission every day after work for several weeks to try and get all six cups. I never did get them all [laughing]. Was your family doing the same?

My family was so excited. My sister Debi was the biggest collector, going to every McDonald’s that wasn’t sold out to get her brother’s cups. Of course, she would have to say something to the person at the register like, “My brother painted these.” And then she would get a look like, “That girl’s ‘bat-shit’ crazy!” She didn’t care because she was on a mission [laughing].

Did you remember going and buying the cups yourself?

I would go to McDonald’s each time a new one came out to ensure they kept up with the program. Seeing kids lining up to get them, talking about which one they didn’t get, and trading cups for the missing ones was awesome.

Like swapping baseballs cards.

Exactly. Here's a quirky story… our local McDonald’s held a cup-signing event. Now keep in mind that I live in a very small community with a total county population of 30,000. But there’s a unique connection to the fast food chain because Jim Delligatti, creator of the Big Mac and its special sauce, happened to be a local businessman. Apparently, his invention earned him a percent on every Big Mac that was sold.

The creator of the Big Mac lived in the same town as you?

He owned a triplex there, which was a convenience store, a movie theater, and a restaurant that wasn’t actually a McDonald’s. But because of his ties to the county and to McDonald’s, Jim was able to arrange the signing so people could collect the cups, or bring in cups they already had to get them signed by yours truly. They even shipped in extra cups from other locations for the signing. The event brought out a steady stream of families for several hours.

It’s funny how you missed out on Batmania, but then you ended up being a cog in the machine during Round Two.

I’ve always been a big fan of pop culture phenomenons. All the recent hype about Taylor Swift is a great example of how pop culture is so good for this country. Not many things bring people together anymore. I’m not even a fan of hers, but what she’s accomplishing through her music is admirable, and it’s shaping society.

That was the topic of my first piece on Substack. I mean, not Taylor Swift, but about how Batman has the power to bring people together. As corny as it may sound.

It goes well beyond entertainment and really becomes important work. And the same with the Batman franchise. Rallying people to get to the movies and becoming passionate about something is priceless.

Batty backlash.

Speaking of priceless, I have to to ask about the whole Batman Returns/McDonald’s fiasco. The entire thing may seem silly to folks now, and I suppose it really kind of was. What’s your take on it?

Big franchises like McDonald’s are and will always be under a microscope. McDonald’s is blamed for being the first business to market to children. That marketing gets blamed for imposing unnecessary stress on kids to make dining out decisions for the whole family.

The parental backlash in particular never sat right with me because the 1989 Batman film was quite dark. What did these folks expect they were taking their kids to with the sequel?

At that time, McDonald’s largely catered to children and families, so I can kind of understand why some parents were angry. I’ve been in theaters where children who were way too young were exposed to graphic, adult content that could be too frightening. So, there is an age-appropriateness for cinema that parents sometimes ignore.

Yeah, if you don’t like the film or it’s not right for you, just get up and go, right? I mean, I’ve walked out on movies before.

That’s it. But the adult chaperone must be the one to remove a child from a theater, if they feel the subject is disturbing. Tweens and teens could certainly see a darker-themed movie like Batman Returns without suffering psychological trauma. Now, if they salivate over the gore, maybe consider getting a therapist, pronto [laughing]. But, it is bothersome that children are exposed to disturbing content at much younger ages. I don’t think kids have changed that much, but I think parents have.

I’ve seen young kids at the movies, and it’ll absolutely be a movie where kids shouldn’t be. And I’m thinking holy hell, because my mother wouldn’t have let me remotely near a movie like that until I was in my teens.

Innocence is fleeting, and I respect a parent who wants to guard their children up to a certain age. But you have to remember, I was the kid who thought the original TV Batman was too milquetoast. I’ve always loved macabre subject matter. I wanted to live with the Munster family and run away with the circus, so I’m probably not typical. I’m not someone to be used as an example in a focus group [laughing].

I wonder if the Batman Returns box office slump was partly caused by these parents complaining, which in turn led to McDonald’s recalling the Happy Meal tie-in?

I blew off the criticism because the film was masterfully done. Yes, I found Penguin vile and disgusting, but that was the point. DeVito nailed it with reckless abandon.

Danny was such a great Penguin. And Keaton’s a great Batman.

I liked Michael Keaton prior to his role in the Batman movies, but I would have never pegged him as Batman.

At the time, I really only knew him from Beetlejuice and Mr. Mom. But I have no memory of ever thinking he was wrong for the part.

Michael mostly portrayed silly, goofy, or rather helpless but endearing characters before that. And he owned the part of Batman for two rounds, despite any real criticism. How many people actually left the films saying they were disappointed in him?

The haters tend to focus on Keaton’s height [laughter]. I think maybe they miss that Batman isn’t just about throwing punches, but also psychological warfare. He’s human, not super-human… it’s the suit that makes him intimidating.

Apparently some fifty-thousand complaint letters were sent to Warner Bros about Michael being cast for the part, and the chatter made the cover of the Wall Street Journal. That casting decision could have been part of the studio’s plan all along… let’s cast the least likely person, similar to how Bruce Wayne would be an unlikely Batman.

You know, regardless of whatever the adverse reaction actually was back then, toward Keaton or to Batman Returns, it seems that fans and collectors still have a lot of love for those movies.

The Batman Returns cup collectors are of a certain age, and it's cool that they were so coveted. I did read somewhere that the studios felt McDonald’s had too much sway in the film’s content. So, it’s possible that it wasn’t McDonald’s that ended that relationship.

I remember going to McDonald’s and asking, “Can I get this one instead?” You know, if it wasn’t the cup that was currently on offer. Sometimes they’d oblige that request [laughing].

I don’t get why they stopped making blockbuster premiums like they used to. You know, I also worked on Jurassic Park collector cups, which became popular collectibles, not to mention the Flintstones Bedrock mugs, which was another really fun project. With the Flintstones movie, the backlit display had an illustration I made with all the mugs. Wilma’s hand held one, which was apparent from her large stone bracelet.

Man, you totally owned the Nineties with your glassware. Have you ever thought about selling prints or posters of the cup art?

I’m unable to monetize or reproduce any of that work without entering into a license agreement with DC Comics. Even if I did, getting approval from McDonald’s would be a heavy lift.

The King of Rock ‘n Roll.

Before this interview I was surprised to learn you’re also the artist behind the Elvis stamp. I remember all the buzz generated from it at the time. I mean, it’s THE Elvis stamp.

It’s funny that literally the smallest piece of artwork I’ve had published got the most attention, and it still does. I owe a lot to the King, and the U.S. Postal Service for making me part of the project.

That image is iconic. And truthfully I don’t use that word because it gets bandied around too easily, but it absolutely applies because Elvis was an icon. Can you tell me how the whole thing even came about?

Jane Dalelio was a client of mine who art-directed a small trade journal called TRIAL Magazine. Even though it was for the legal profession, a notably dry topic, her concepts were always creative assignments. Her husband, Howard Payne, freelanced for the U.S. Postal Service in the stamp design division. Jane convinced him to pull me into a series of stamps called Legends of American Music… even though he wasn’t a huge fan of my work.

Why’s that?

He preferred the more traditional painterly styles over the hard-edged airbrush work I was doing at the time. You may not realize, but postage stamp assignments are highly confidential. I was bound to secrecy for a year before the stamp was issued… but how Elvis actually landed on a stamp is really a story unto itself.

Do tell, please.

Elvis fans had been lobbying the postal service for years to get the King’s face on a postage stamp. He seems an obvious subject now, but back then most commemorative stamps were presidents, poets, or Nobel prize winners. All matters of dry subjects [laughs]. Pop icons had not yet been explored, so Elvis was put on the back burner. The stamp series to celebrate American music had a long list of hopefuls, and I was one of seven artists asked to be part of the project since there were a lot of stamps to be done.

Was Elvis given to you right out of the gate, or did you have to work up to it?

My first assignment was to come up with ideas for Count Basie. I also did thumbnail sketches for John Lennon, Janis Joplin, Jimmy Hendrix, and some others. After a few weeks of doodling ideas, the art director called me up and said, “Put down what you’re doing and give me your best Elvis.”

Did you say [does Elvis impersonation] “thank you, thank you vurry much”?

Oh, he wasn’t asking for an impression… which I could’ve done on demand by the way [laughing]. So, around this time the Postmaster General, a guy named Anthony Frank, was getting ready to retire. He had promised the Elvis fan clubs that he would have a stamp of their beloved before he left office, and so they gave each artist a month to come up with their best rendition of the King. I submitted one version, while some of the more seasoned artists submitted several.

Why just the one?

I was young and dumb and didn’t consider creating multiple versions. Much to my surprise the Stamp Advisory Committee, which is made up of laypeople not creative professionals, chose mine and an older version of Elvis by John Berkey as its two favorites.

Oh, wow. I believe John did some of the early Star Wars posters.

Yes, he was an incredible artist with an amazing volume of work to his name. The committee was in a quandary because Elvis’ career was just as vibrant when he wore white jumpsuits as when he sported saddle shoes. That’s when the brilliant idea emerged to leave the decision to the public. Old Elvis vs. Young Elvis. May the best man win.

Wasn’t there a ballot for customers to vote for their favourite design? Am I remembering it wrong?

There was a ballot. And this would also be the first pop icon to be featured on a commemorative stamp. The ballots were available at each of the post offices and distributed as a special insert through People Magazine. There were even some passionate individuals who submitted hundreds of ballots to skew the results.

Young Elvis takes the cake.

And your design won by a landslide, didn’t it?

From the 1.2 million ballots cast, seventy-five percent went to the young Elvis. Yay! Additionally, the postal service collected a billion return addresses for their follow-up solicitations to sell merchandise.

This reminds me of a Seinfeld episode where Kramer discovers mail is a sham. Then Newman, who works at the post office, says, “You don’t know the half of what goes on here!” [laughing] So yeah, I totally believe the Postal Service knew what they were doing getting the public involved.

Yes! The whole thing unleashed a tidal wave of interest in choosing the winning stamp design because the public had never selected previous stamps, so this was a major diversion for the Postal Service. Brilliant on their part. And they sold about 124 million stamps, earning them $36 million. Thank you, Elvis, and you’re welcome [laughing]. It is still the best-selling commemorative stamp, and with the digital age in full swing, it is likely to keep that title.

Did you get to keep the original art? Or is Mr. Presley hanging next to the Mona Lisa?

The U.S. Postal Service owns all original art for postage stamps. Elvis is currently displayed at the Smithsonian Postal Museum in Washington, D.C. If he were hung next to the Mona Lisa, I think DaVinci would be “all shook up.”

Mmm hmm, yeah, yeah [laughing]. Speaking of DaVinci, some of his sketches influenced Batman’s costume design. Do you see your own work as having the potential to inspire like that? I really see a thread in your artistry that’s reminiscent of this kind of… bygone Norman Rockwellian Americana.

You’re too kind [laughter]. I adore Norm. He invented a time and a place that people wanted America to be… it was better than the actual world we lived in. He was a master of capturing moments and interactions that were masterfully painted while filled with narratives. I can’t hold a candle to the likes of Rockwell, but I relate to what he was accomplishing with his art. Whether it’s on the cover of the Saturday Evening Post, or stuck on the corner of an envelope, having your art infiltrate everyday households is a thrill.  

It’s a lot like music. You hear a song, and the years pass by. Then whenever you hear that same song again, it takes you back to where you were and what you were doing when you first heard it. I think it’s the same with art.

It’s difficult to comprehend. When I look at art, or I’m moved by it, I’m still looking at it from an artist's perspective. I study the technique and the approach, the method and the mediums… so what does that same piece of art that I’m looking at mean to someone who doesn’t make art? What do they enjoy about it? It has to be on a completely different plane.

Nostalgia, maybe? But I also think it’s more than that. It’s real, genuine evocation… the bittersweet but also the joy, you know?

I couldn’t be happier if someone derives joy from my work. After I’m dead and gone, if anything remains of me, I would want it to be the work I enjoyed creating all those years.

Batman, forever in glass.

You must’ve enjoyed working with McDonald’s because you did all the Batman Forever glasses and the boxes for the fries, too.

Yes, I did. The French fry boxes were more difficult to collect if you have the fries in them [laughing]. I know people who asked for the fries to be dumped on the tray rather than in the box… such clever customers. The template for the art is very strange. It has a long tongue on it that wraps around somehow, and the artwork is a goofy configuration. But when they’re folded, they work.

Did you get more time on Forever, or was it a tight deadline like the one for Returns?

I was brought in early on Batman Forever. I was sent the script, and was flown to Los Angeles to preview the sets. Talk about an immersive experience. I felt like a prince… I was floating on air.

The design on Batman Forever is fantastic. Did being there on the set give you a leg up?

I was being shown elaborate sets, including Bruce Wayne’s office, his bedroom, and the Batcave. The scope of work that goes into making a film of this caliber is unimaginable, and the crew were great. They humored me with some crazy stories about Jim Carrey’s antics on set. So, yes, I left California with so much inspiration that I couldn’t wait to get to my drawing board.

How was working on the Batman Forever project different from Returns? Was it more challenging?

An important part of the designs was incorporating the handle into the character poses. Some of the initial concepts were collectively decided upon with the art director, Theo Rhodes. I could always count on the agency designers for sound guidance based on their massive amounts of experience in producing in-store premiums. The French fry boxes were part of the same promotion, so everything was orchestrated to decorate the restaurants from corner to corner. 

The original artwork for the Batman Forever glasses has gone unseen, as far as I know. Are you able to share those pieces as a sort of you-saw-it-here-first?

Yes, I was able to locate the original paper folder for you. Paper, not digital [laughing]. The folder contains my sketches for the glassware and some Polaroid shots of the sculpted mugs.

Polaroids… the analog selfie.

That was the only instant imaging back then [laughter]. It had been a long time since I thought about them, so it was good to jog my memory of how the steps unfolded.

The artwork looks exactly like the glasses!

The trick with glassware is that you don’t fully know how it will look until it’s created. The sculpted models certainly show the level of detail and dimension, but when they’re transparent, the play of light can do crazy things.

How heavily did they involve you in the process of making them?

I had never designed glassware before, but I was down with the idea since my responsibility was limited to drawing up the designs. Sculptors would take the drawings and make them dimensional, so it was really fun to think in three dimensions, not to mention in glass. I was very impressed with how accurately the sculptors duplicated what I sent them. The original drawings are no longer in my possession, but the copies returned to me call out the sculpting depths before the base relief work is created. These decisions were recommendations from the sculptor.

All these years later they still look great.

I was in awe of how they came to life. They also have a particular feel in your hand, and with the wrap-around design, you're compelled to spin them to see all sides. 

The process of making those seems a helluva lot more complex than the Batman Returns ones.

Glass doesn’t photograph well. I don’t have a copy of what was used in the end since ideas were also presented with the movie characters holding the glassware in dynamic poses. I find rendering glass and metallic surfaces quite fascinating. A few basic principles apply, and then you can be fairly free-form with the reflections and refractions of light.

I think I was sixteen or seventeen that year, so I was going to McDonald’s every weekend trying to get them all.

I felt they turned out nicely, and made a great campy collectible.

Okay, I’m gonna put you on the spot now… who’s your favourite Batman?

I like the Keaton films, but I think my favorite movie is still Batman Begins. It’s personal for me, though. The film was being made in London, and the entire art team set up a temporary studio near the sets to begin the style guide for the licensed art. I saw nearly all the sets, vehicles, and costumes while they were still shooting. No pictures were allowed, but I had my sketchbook in the Bat Cave, the grand entrance of Wayne Manor, and in the costume room.

That’s awesome. What do you remember most about that project?

So many cowls and capes. Different costumes were used for different scenes and action poses. Some were rigid, and others were more flexible. Some capes were heavy, while others were light and flowing. I’ll never forget it, and what happens on the screen is a reminder of my time making the artwork. It’s truly indescribable to be a part of that. I also liked how this version of Batman was returning to a more macabre, dark place. Christian Bale stayed in character throughout filming, so he took the role quite seriously.

I like the Christopher Nolan films a lot, but overall I’m more hooked by the gothic vibe of the Tim Burton ones.

It could also have to do with the age you were when it hit you in the face [laughing].

[Laughter] It was Batmania, man! As a kid it definitely smacked me upside the head. But looking at it now with adult eyes, there’s still something about Michael Keaton that clicks for me. He’s clearly tormented and struggling with being Batman. I find that turmoil fascinating to watch.

What you describe is the crux of Batman's character. He’s avenging the death of his parents, but is tortured by the idea of becoming a villain in his quest for justice.

Lewinskygate.

I could talk about Batman all day long, but I have to know how the MAD Magazine Clinton-Lewinsky piece came to fruition.

As I’ve always said, MAD Magazine takes being funny very seriously [laughter]. The Clinton-Lewinsky piece was an irresistible topic for MAD, which never shied away from controversy. In fact, it was fuel for content, and believe it or not it was my first assignment for the magazine. I was so excited when the call came in since I had been a huge fan of MAD since I was thirteen years old.

Do you remember how they worded the brief?

The assignment was to recreate the original Star Wars poster with the White House cast of characters. Renaming it “Starr” Wars was brilliant because Kenneth Starr was the lawyer who headed the investigation into the Clinton administration scandal that became known as Whitewater. The art director gave me some essential props to include in the illustration which included the semen-stained dress held as evidence, the oversized cigar lightsaber, ample hips for Monica, and Starr as Darth Vader. Of course, lots of laughter and joking evolved from this short list of visuals.

It’s hilarious… the stained dress is there and everything.

It wouldn’t be right if it weren’t [laughing].

I think it was Linda Tripp who told Monica to keep the dress. You know, as a bizarre blackmail insurance policy, maybe. That means Monica must’ve confided in Linda that the President had… soiled it [laughing].

As Bill said in an interview, “I did not have sexual relations with ‘that woman.’” Oh, no? You didn’t? [laughter].

It’s amazing that it went as far as it did. They even tested the semen just to be sure [laughing]. But anyway, how did the piece go over with the suits at MAD? Did you nail it first time?

This was long before digital scans were available, so I had to ship the original artwork to the New York office once I was finished. The MAD creative team had a ritual where they would reveal all the artwork for that month’s publication in a sit-down meeting. Different art directors commissioned different pieces, leading to an interactive show and tell. Being it was my first project for them, I was a nervous wreck awaiting their response.

This sounds like torture.

I got a call just before noon from John Ficarra, the editor, and he says, “Stutzman, this is the worst art we’ve ever gotten. You’ll never work in this town again!” I nearly shat myself. After a short pause, there was a roar of laughter from the conference room. “I’m just kidding,” he says. “This piece is brilliant!”

Heh. Those rascals.

The artwork was used by the Soviets for a sheet of postage stamps. How they got a hold of the artwork file is still unknown. When I learned of it, I asked John [Ficarra] what MAD planned to do about it. He said, “Outside of starting World War III? Nothing.”

Maybe MAD had Robert Hanssen rummaging through their office [laughing]. Did you ever experience any backlash because of the Clinton piece, or on any of the work you’ve done?

I’m somewhat shielded from backlash because my work is commissioned. The responsibility falls on whoever publishes the artwork. If there was backlash over something I illustrated, I’m unaware of it. Of course, these days, keyboard critics abound. My philosophy is “just don’t look.”

Staying fresh.

Do you think avoiding that kind of negativity has helped you remain prolific?

You always have to do your best work, which is not always easy. Clients don’t always move a project forward in the strongest direction, so navigating the compromises is key. Only about twenty-five percent of my work is seen by the public… and sometimes, the best ideas end up in the trash bin. You have to dig deep on those occasions when you’re developing an idea that you’re not in love with. When the magic is there, however, it’s glorious.

Talent aside, can you look back and say there was another key ingredient to the kind of tenure you’ve achieved in the business?

Building relationships is a major part of longevity. Some clients have become lifelong friends with whom I’ve worked for twenty years. These people are important to me, and they’re woven into my career as sources of inspiration and support. If I had only received one commission from each new client, my career would have ended decades ago. You have to meet or exceed the expectations of your clients so they’ll call you back. A second or third project is much easier because by then you have a rhythm and comfort knowing how each other works. And you also can’t be a money-grubbing fool.

For years now I’ve written for the love of the craft, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to sometimes thinking, okay, at what point does this labour of love start to become a paying reality?

Sometimes, the best opportunities come with the lowest budgets. Commercial work is supposed to support professionals, so we, as illustrators and creatives, must collectively demand fair pricing. For me it’s that toss-up between, is it worth me showing up, or not?

In some people’s eyes I think being an artist or a writer comes with the caveat that you should work for free. How do you cope with that outlook from potential “customers”?

I have to assess whether a project is going to give me an opportunity to shine and if that’s worth compromising on a fair fee. I’ve also found that it’s best to be flexible, and remember that illustrators and artists provide a service. I also engage with my clients and encourage them to be part of creative development by sketching multiple ideas from which they can choose or mix and match. If they enjoy the process, they’ll be an asset as ideas develop, and even want to experience that rush again. It should be a pleasant and exciting exchange of ideas, and everyone in the process can claim ownership of the finished product if they’re involved. 

Did you ever have any gigs that just totally went pear shaped?

Only a handful of jobs were complete disasters, and the common denominator is usually a strained relationship and mismatched ideologies. When someone new contacts me for an illustration, I've noticed that they generally get my vibe and want what I do best for them. It helps having a large body of work behind me to show my strengths. It’s tougher when you’re just starting out, and you haven’t fully formed a comprehensive portfolio.

At this point in your career what are you enjoying the most?

I most enjoy developing ideas and whipping up my clients with initial sketches. A few stages in the middle can get tedious, but steering the ship forward is part of the job. Executing the finished art is not the guts of the creative process for me because by the time I get to that point, I can fully visualize it in my head. Hunkering down to paint a nice piece is the end goal, though.

Has there been anything in your process that has or hasn’t changed over the years?

If not for deadlines, I would probably never finish anything [laughing]. Firm schedules are my motivation. It seems like deadlines are less crushing than when I was younger. It might be that the digital capabilities buy more time, or maybe my years of experience make me better at time management. Scanning art in-house can be done in an hour now, as opposed to preparing original artwork to send across the country by FedEx. But to this day, I always wish I had another week to fuss over any given painting. I still use every ounce of time I have in my schedule before I put finally down the brushes.

Do you see yourself slowing down or speeding up? I say never give up, never surrender!

[Laughing] I will continue to work as long as people want what I do, and as long as I’m capable. I may be more selective these days about whether assignments suit me or not, but being busy is what I want. Besides illustration, I have fun side-hustles that feed my creative energy.

Can you give any details about them?

I’m currently finishing up a design for a deck of playing cards and writing a companion book telling the story behind them. I also do a good bit of video, mostly documentary style, and help to promote a local annual festival by producing all the staging, wayfinding, posters, programs, and social media. Laura and I redesigned the exhibition at the local museum. It was an exhaustive but rewarding undertaking. I’ve also taken on some public art projects that stepped outside my usual scope of work… so I’m open to anything that inspires me and allows creative expression. 

Annie, get your gun.

Is there something you’ve done that gave you a lot of satisfaction? Something you’re super proud of?

My most successful project was probably Annie Get Your Gun. It was my first Broadway production assignment at a pivotal time in print media. The art director asked if I could paint the poster as separate elements so it could be cobbled together in a variety of formats from bus cards to billboards. Technology was evolving to allow more flexibility with how art was assembled. Never having worked that way before, I naively agreed, but it made a ton more work than I had anticipated. In total, it was about 30 pieces of artwork to make the poster. Each little cameo had its own background, so much of the work was cropped out in the final poster.

It sounds almost like an advent calendar.

I had no idea of the breadth of the promotional campaign when I started the project. Because the production was still taking shape, I had no images, costumes, or visual guidance other than making it a Western theme. I ended up designing my own costumes and doing character development while patching in the heads of the thespians. It was a wild ride.

Did you get to see it on Broadway?

I was invited to opening night, and then I saw the enormity of the campaign. The artwork of Annie, played by Bernadette Peters, was enlarged to fill a twenty-story building in Times Square. Each character was blown up to life-size for the theater display windows. Everywhere you turned, my artwork was there. That experience taught me to trust the people I’m working with. I had plenty of doubts along the way, but this single project opened up New York to me. Many years later, an art director called me for a project and said he “always wanted to work with the guy who did Annie Get Your Gun.”

Oh man, what a payoff.

Damn, it felt good.

Parting company.

I promise to let you go in a few minutes, but how come you don’t work with McDonald’s any longer?

I often asked get asked why I don’t work with them. It’s a tragedy, really.

Can you talk about it?

I was in a long-term relationship with the Chicago firm that originally commissioned me. As part of DC Comics and Warner Bros standards, I had to be approved by both of those entities to be allowed to illustrate their property. Of course, that needed to happen quickly since the Batman Returns project was fast-tracked. Once approved, it was going to be smooth sailing with future work. Several years in and several projects later, a scandal made headlines because of the Monopoly game at McDonald’s.

Oh, yes, now I remember. There was a documentary about it called “McMillion$.”

That’s right, the Monopoly game was also called McMillions. Each purchase at McDonald’s got you game pieces with certain Monopoly properties. The goal was to fill up a section of the Monopoly board to win prizes, some of them big prizes, including a cash payout grand prize. It was high stakes.

Wasn’t some security guard stealing a bunch of game pieces or something?

The Chicago agency I worked for had hired a private security company to deliver the winning game pieces to random McDonald’s locations across the country. It was like espionage with the black briefcase and all. Lo and behold, tickets for the big prizes were never delivered to the restaurants but rather to family and friends of the head of security, among other accomplices in charge of distributing them.

What a shitshow.

And it went on for over a decade. A decade! The security firm defrauded McDonald’s of $24 million. And I ask myself, “What on earth were they thinking?” It turned into a huge embarrassment, and in response McDonald’s fired the agency I worked for. Being that McDonald’s was the agency’s primary client, if not only client, the whole place went tits up. Over fifty people lost their jobs… and I was one of those casualties.

Do you go solo after that?

I have years of experience and a long history of clients who, fortunately, return if they have the work. But working freelance is scary and unpredictable. However, freelancing offers greater creative opportunities, if you sometimes don’t mind starving.

The world of freelancing… equal parts fear and freedom.

It’s feast or famine [laughing]. My wife and studio mate, Laura, started freelancing before me. Once I followed suit, we were solely responsible for feeding ourselves, insuring, promoting, and making rent… ourselves. In the mid-80s when we launched our business, Eloqui, the illustration business was much more robust.

In what way?

You could bank five hundred dollars for a spot illustration that took half a day to make. And five hundred bucks would buy a lot more then than it does today. Most magazine article assignments had an intro page and several spot illustrations, so you could pull in a couple thousand on a single assignment. I began freelancing while I was still employed full-time, and I earned more on those freelancing weekends than clocking my forty hours at the agency. So, my exodus made sense back then.

Yeah, but you get to be your own boss while you starve [laughing].

Honestly [laughter] I wouldn’t advise anyone to do it.

Why’s that?

Freelance illustration is highly competitive and always has been. Getting noticed is very difficult, and then staying relevant is equally so. I’m lucky to have entered the illustration world before the digital age and at a time when the work was more plentiful. There are so many alternate ways to fill a visual space these days that don’t require assignment work.

Because people can just go to Google and grab what they need?

Yes. When stock imagery first emerged, I knew it would be the undoing of much of our industry. It’s a scourge on assignment work, and it makes money for everyone but the creatives. That shit still infuriates me, and you can’t unring that bell. The advent of the search engine is what allowed cataloging imagery to be possible. I’m allowed to be a little cynical after forty-five years in the industry, right?

I’d say you’ve earned that right [laughing]. Is there still something you’d love to do that maybe you haven’t yet?

That’s hard to answer because I always keep the feelers up. It would be exciting to play a creative role in an art film. You know, to influence how it looks and how it feels. I’m also fascinated with models and puppetry, and I even dabbled in it as a kid, but never took it a step further. One of my earliest desires as a kid was to run away and join the circus.

I bet there’s always a place for you with Penguin’s Red Triangle Gang.

I think my talents would be limited to plate spinning [laughing].

Mark, thank for your time, I know it’s precious these days.

It was my pleasure. I appreciate the opportunity to reflect.

I’m glad to hear you say that. What’s your takeaway from all this reminiscing?

Maybe I wasn’t wasting my time all these years, come to think of it… [laughter].

You can find more of Mark Stutzman at www.eloqui.com

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