Š 2019 Bob Tambo. For info contact tambogrfx@yahoo.com
For my dad Pedro who never understood what I did for a living, my sister Linda, who always believed in my artistic talent and my mom Mitsuko who started encouraging me once she realized my drawing skills wasn’t all that bad. (Sorry about the math, Mom! I know, I could have been an architect.)
I began my journey in art
when I learned to copy my father’s signature at age four. My signature still resemble’s his. Why is that important? I don’t know. I guess when you’re four, you get excited when you can do cursive. I was a strange child. Every piece of paper, furniture and box had my autograph on it in perfect handwriting either scratched or written. After a trip to Disneyland, we came home with a Mickey Mouse souvenir, I learned to draw the famous rodent. In kindergarten, next to naps, my favorite thing was art time. While my classmates were drawing what they said were trees and clouds, I was drawing my favorite cartoon characters like Felix the Cat, Popeye, Fred Flintstone and Bugs Bunny. The teacher told my mother I should become an artist. My Japanese helicopter mom wouldn’t have it. Math was the subject I was to master. She would paste addition, subtraction and multiplication tables on the wall next to my bed hoping I would memorize them. Wrong. To this day, I couldn’t tell you what 12 times 12 was without writing it on paper. I continued my drawing in elementary school where I would draw war scenes with jeeps, soldiers and airplanes from watching old World War II movies on television. Along with my German friend, Martin we would scrawl swaztikas and rising sun flags on our war drawings and book covers. I miss those politically incorrect days. Our classmates were impressed with the drawings that we created so Martin and I decided to impress them more by tracing coloring book drawings. Amazed at how much better we drew, they offered to buy the copies for a nickel a piece. The next day, they noticed black ink on the back of the paper with perfect reversed images of the front. Our art forging days were over. They demanded their money back. Martin gave back his 25 cents, I had already spent mine so I got beat up. That was in the second grade. My artistic endeavors continued throughout elementary school. In junior high, I became art editor for the school newspaper. In 1968 when I was in the eighth grade, we did a story on President Nixon’s election and I illustrated him. The teacher was angry and told me privately, I gave him a nose that looked like “something that belongs in your trousers” She really blew a lid when I replied, “I guess that’s why they call him ‘Tricky Dick’.” As a freshman at a college prep high school I was chosen to do my first graphic design piece, the Class of ‘74 patch. During my senior year, I became the art editor for the school newpaper and yearbook assigned to illustrate stories. I was supposed to do the yearbook cover, but I ditched so many days of school and missed many yearbook meetings so the editor, a guy called Waldo, decided to have his mom, a professional artist, do the cover. Mechanical drawing class allowed me to graduate. The teacher was impressed with my draftsmanship and gave me an “A” for the year, plus I received extra credit for helping classmates. With the grade and extra credits, my GPA rose to a whopping 2.0. I graduated and even received the Bank of America Achievement Award for Art.
After high school I took the seven year junior college route starting at Los Angeles City College where majored in business (my Japanese helicopter mom’s idea), switched to law enforcement (watching too many episodes of Adam-12), then FINALLY fine art. I excelled in art and had pieces displayed in art exhibits and student shows. That was in 1979, the year I should have graduated from university but academia wasn’t my thing. Tired of school, I eventually decided to work full-time for three dollars more than the minimum wage. I chose a weekly paycheck to feed my vinyl record collection. After a few years working dead end jobs, I went back to school and enrolled in Los Angeles Trade Technical College for a semester at night then full time in the Commercial Art Program. After two years and armed with a diploma and a spiffy portfolio, I landed my first job as an art assistant with a “national men’s magazine” then with a “women’s specialty magazine.“ My first Art Director position was with a national financial publication firm in Irvine, CA . After several years in the publication design business, I was hired to do marketing and advertising design at Heil-Brice Retail Advertsing (HBRA) in San Clemente, CA. I learned about advertising, marketing and creative strategy. I flourished as an ad guy. After eight years, my former employees allowed me to work from home in Wapiti, WY for 5 years. When the economy went south in 2004, they asked me to move back to California, I lasted 4 months. I sent my resume and samples to places in Wyoming and Montana and landed a job with a design studio in Billings, MT. I worked there for 2 years doing awesome design work that helped me perfect my creative skills. When the creative director position for the largest newspaper in the state was available, I applied, interviewed and got the position. I was in charge of designing a regional magazine (a life-long dream) and marketing promotions for the national corporate owner of the paper. After a nine years with the firm, the publishing business was changing and the corporation began outsourcing the graphic design jobs overseas. Eventually my job was moved to a regional design center. In 2015 I co-founded (with my business partner) Rebel River Creative, a marketing and advertising studio. I continue to draw, not as often as I should because I juggle my creativity as a “commercial artist,” husband, father and grandfather which takes up my time (binge watching old episodes Kitchen Nightmare doesn’t help). My heart will always be in the creative realm and as long as I can sit up in a chair and my arthritic hands allow, I will continue to hone my craft. This collection of drawings from my personal sketchbooks was put together to share and inspire anyone who enjoys creativity and making things. I hope it gives you an idea of the conundrum that is my twisted reality that motivates me and puts a smile on your face. —Bob Tambo, December 2019
aftermath
[October 2015- November 2015] When you’re employed doing something you love, then get laid off, it takes a toll on your confidence. The corporation asked me to stay an additionaI month after giving me notice, mainly to finish an issue of a publication. I’m a nice guy, so I stayed. The following drawings were selected from various sketchbooks I had and were created during my last month at the company. I love Ralph Steadman’s art and style.Inspired by his technique and fueled with emotion, I began splashing ink and colors in my sketch pads. This is what transpired.
“Laugh When Bleeds”
“Chief Tight Lip”
“ Ronnie and the Brady Bill”
“I Love Courtney”
“Life is Hairy”
“Jillie Flying”
“Whoo Dat?”
“Kimberly would have been 36”
“Really, After 10 years? Ouch!”
“Chaka, Tell Me Something Good”
“Sacrificial Lamb”
“Need a Personal Relationship?”
“Ear Nibble”
“Griz on Meth”
get sketchy with it [2009-2011]
I have a mind that races with random thoughts and I never know what’s going to come out of it. In this politically correct world, the only way I get away with outrageous shit is to put it down on paper and pray someone sees it, finds it funny, macabre or just down right stupid and smiles. We still have is freedom of expression, right? The following pages are some of my various facsinations that were jotted down over a period of two years. “Wisdumb from a Dummy.”
can’t take it with you [2010-2012]
My obsession with sketching obituary mugs began when my sister Linda was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in late 2009. They gave her less than 12 months to live. She fought hard for 3 years. Maybe I was researching or doing self-therapy. Having a loved one go before their time is heartbreaking. She passed away on November 16, 2012. Linda was only 17 months older than me, 57 at the time.. By no means am I making fun or denigrating these folks I found in the obituary column, “I am celebrating them.” When drawing their faces and reading about their lives, I realized how much their families loved them. It prepared me to accept the Linda’s death. I was privileged to see my sister alive on October 31, 2012 for the last time.
Š 2019 Bob Tambo. For info contact tambogrfx@yahoo.com