With a background in art and philosophy and a keen eye for the absurdities of the human condition, Edward Henrion was a master of satire. Following the centuries-old respected tradition of this fine art genre, he was an equal opportunity offender, creating satirical drawings that took no prisoners. From his studio in Greenwich Village, the artist created these works as a commentary on the world in which he lived during the 1960’s and 70’s.
Following are excerpts from an insightful review written in 2011 by Ed McCormack, former feature writer and columnist for Rolling Stone & one of the original contributing editors of Andy Warhol’s Interview:
“If most artists are said to have a muse, it might be assumed that the satirical draftsman Ed Henrion has an imp that hops out of an ink bottle….Even when likenesses, or details, suggest a particular time period, these pictures are never merely topically obvious in the manner of a political cartoon. Rather, they attack the larger, more timeless, and universal themes of human nature on a more elusive , enigmatic way……a razor-sharp line cutting to the core of our human depravity.”
“It would seem that the distance Ed Henrion has kept from the grubby, hustling aspects of the art scene has served his graphic vision well, giving him the freedom to skewer aspects of the cultural establishment that might be off-limits to a more professionally ambitious satirist. Not even that once vaunted arbiter of Hip, The Village Voice, was safe from his acid-etched pen-line, judging from one scathing drawing of a flamboyantly foppish critic / commentator in high-heeled pumps posturing at his typewriter, while multi-culti artsy-fartsy wannabes salivate at a window bearing the paper’s familiar logo like Oliver Twist ogling the porridge. And doesn’t that little cutie in the diaper, sucking on a pacifier and clutching a stuffed teddy bear in another drawing, bear a suspicious resemblance to Picasso? ….Other personal acquaintances and / or cultural icons such as Allen Ginsberg or Jascha Heifetz may occasionally put in cameo appearances –– rarely in flattering roles. (Could that dandyish dude studying the funky folk singers in Washington Square as if they were bedbugs under a microscope be none other than the natty New Journalist Tom Wolfe?) But it’s never necessary to recognize them in order to appreciate these drawings for their own wicked virtues.“
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