BEN NEWMAN
We visited Ben Newman in his Hastings studio, where we were surrounded by colour, collectables and all his creations.
“I don’t like the word mistake. You learn things when plans don’t turn out how you thought they might. All those redirections and hiccups are more important than a blast of success.”
What was the transition from education to your career like?
Ben. While doing my A-Levels, I didn’t find the way art was taught engaging, so I’d get easily distracted. My teacher found me insufferable and annoying. To be fair, I was and am. One day, he told me, ‘When you amount to nothing, don’t come back and blame me’. That was just before
I left to do my Foundation Art Course.
Fast forward to the second year of my degree at UWE in Bristol, studying illustration, I liked and admired my tutor, Ian MacCulloch. Everyone knew him as a grumpy guy and hard to please. In a group tutorial, he laughed at a few things I’d drawn in my sketchbook, and the rest of the class looked at me in shock. He encouraged me to use the print rooms, and it felt good to have a tutor who wanted me to pursue things that I found interesting.
My time at university taught me that illustration sits as a middle-ground between graphic design and fine art. It is more employable than fine art but less employable than graphic design. Most illustrators are freelance, and I’ve rarely met an in-house illustrator.
For several years, I worked full-time in a bookshop after university and in the evenings and weekends, I’d illustrate local band posters and editorial jobs. I worked purely by hand and learned how to illustrate using a computer two years after university once I’d saved up enough to buy one. Gradually, I whittled down the hours at the bookshop until I was part-time.
Finally, a job came through designing Halloween candy packaging for a company in America that paid enough for me to leave the bookshop job with three or four months’ money in the bank. It was time to commit to illustration as a job. An illustration agency picked me up and pushed me into more commercial work. I was doing a lot of editorial work, which I was not particularly strong at. Advertising work was well paid, but too many people were involved with too many different opinions, so the outcome always felt diluted.
How did you find your way to illustrating children’s books?
Ben. I never intended to make children’s books, but I’ve been illustrating them for the best part of 11 years now. Everything I had worked on before, magazine editorials, advertising, etc., existed briefly and had tight deadlines. However, books are long-form projects that exist for many years after publication.
My avenue into books happened when a new publisher called Nobrow was set up in 2008. They approached me to be in their magazine. Initially, I wasn’t going to do it, but Alex, one of the co-founders, rang me up, and we had such a great conversation that I agreed to do something for the first issue. Alex said, ‘If you have any ideas for books, let me know’. So, I pitched an idea with a friend of mine where we reimagined old Japanese spirits and demons known as Yōkai called the Bento Bestiary. We did a limited screen-printed book plus a litho print. Then, I wrote and illustrated my first and only comic book for Nobrow, Ouroboros.
After a bad review for Ouroboros from a comics journalist, I took a break from dreaming up stories for a few years. I’ve had criticism from tutors before, but when I got it from someone in the industry I respect, it was pretty cutting and affected my confidence for some time afterwards. So, I focused back on exhibitions for the London Design Festival and Pictoplasma in Berlin. But I loved working with Nobrow, so it was only a matter of time until I’d return to them with something.
I worked as an art director at Nobrow for a while; it gave me a more comprehensive view of how books are viewed and worked on in each department. Now, when I work on a book, I have a pretty good idea of the process and what each team might say in a meeting.
Back during my time in the bookshop, I was often asked where the science or space books were, and I’d show the customer the nonfiction section, which was very dry and generic. It felt that no one was trying to make those books look interesting because every child would ask for a book on space at some point, no matter what. In comparison, I’d look at the picture books section, which was so competitive with loads of colour and fun characters.
There was room for something different in nonfiction children’s books. I pitched the idea of an illustrated space book to Nobrow, who was in the process of setting up a children’s book department called Flying Eye Books. They liked the idea and said I’d need to find a writer. I asked an old school friend, Dominic Walliman; we’d known each other since we were 14. Dominic had studied physics at university; he has an MA and a PhD, so he’s a Doctor of Physics, which was perfect.
We created the book Professor Astro Cat’s Frontiers of Space. There was a buzz that this book could be successful; I assumed it would get a few sales and maybe be printed in a few languages, which would have been great. But the original print run of 10,000 sold out in five months. We were surprised to find out it sold so well and that fast. Then, all these other territories started buying into the book, which grew from there. I saw more royalties two or three years later, which helped me develop new books. Looking back, I’ve made about 20 children’s books in the last 11 years, which feels insane.
“I had no interest in creating children’s books. I had this one-book idea I felt I could make a little money from. I could see a hole in the market, and I wanted to make it; it felt like a fun challenge.”
Each of my books encapsulates a period of my life, so when I look at one, it reminds me of all the things that happened when I made it. My first children’s book saw me transition from Bristol to London and build a new life. My second book started with a significant life shift to Hastings. I was illustrating my third book when my first child was born. I remember working on it at 3 am with him strapped to my front. And the fourth book was when my youngest son was born. I remember working from home with the chaos of a one-year-old and a newborn around me.
Once published, each book goes off and lives a life somewhere else way beyond me. So, for example, the Astro Cat books are translated into over 25 languages and are in print worldwide. I might see a photograph of a shelf full of them in the Middle East, parts of India, and China. And then, a parent might message me that one of our books helped their child through a tough time at the hospital. The life of a book is fascinating. It feels like it has become its own entity.
Over the years, I have gradually turned my job in children’s books and toys into a career. It’s taken me years to learn to sit with what I’m making for a while. Learning to be patient has become easier with age.
What keeps you inspired and motivated?
Ben. There is anxiety about being self-employed. It can be debilitating and sometimes to the point where I find it difficult to focus. But that anxious hum can keep me active and creative. Over time, I’ve become less interested in fulfilling other people’s expectations and more in fulfilling what I’d like to do. This job could all end at any time, and I want to be left with many things I’m proud of. I’m glad about that bad review for Ouroboros now because it gave me the time to sit back and learn from it and then realise that I don’t care what someone else thinks.
I enjoy thinking of new projects, a new book, or planting seeds for something else to grow. I’ve painted on and off for years, and then last year,
I got to a point where I felt like my mental health was a lot better. So, I started painting again in the evenings.
I have a ritual called the 20-minute rule. I’ve always got 20-minutes to spare; otherwise, I could spend half an hour looking at my phone, not even realising it.
Spending 20-minutes a day on a personal project will build up to a significant amount in a month or two. And in a year, potentially a new body of work. We often put off approaching a project because we need to have an entire block of time available to get momentum. Twenty minutes a day adds up, and it is not an impossible hurdle to clear. At some point, that project will slowly come together and find its natural momentum.
It’s the same for taking care of yourself. Twenty minutes of yoga or exercise daily or most days pays off mentally and physically. If you say I’m going to the gym three times a week for an hour each time, you start to get bored and may not turn up. I can show up for 20-minutes when
I can, and it makes a difference.
Away from your books, you are producing beautiful, colourful paintings; please tell us about that and what else you have going on.
Ben. Growing up, my Dad wanted me to be into football and having a pint, but I always had my nose in a book or comic. So, we were not as close as we could have been. But when I was in my late twenties, a project came up reimagining masks, and we talked about turning them into 3D objects and started working together. Since then, my Dad and I have formed a strong bond; he helps me with the woodwork parts of projects even now.
He cuts the wood that I paint on. My Dad is a tool maker and is very accurate, so he cut the wood for my paintings very neatly; I don’t want a computer getting involved, and it’s a nice way to be with my Dad.
I’m obsessed with colour and composition, so the paintings I’m doing now are the opposite of the books I draw. I’m not having to deal with narrative, characters, animals, or anything. It feels pure and boils down to the bare essence of colour and shape.
I started painting in this manner when my youngest was born in 2018. I did a year of the 20-minute rule and produced enough for an exhibition. By cutting the wood up rather than focusing on one significant composition and feeling daunted to make something great, I cut up the wood into small bits. I made a series of throwaway little compositions that I wasn’t precious about. Then, once pieced back together, I react to what’s happening. I prioritise reacting over following an intention. I’m looking to find balance, see what’s interesting and embrace unexpected things that have happened. I’ve learned from doing books that I need to be patient and not feel like I must solve things immediately.
By painting again, I’ve returned to working at my kitchen table, exactly how I started out illustrating.
Ben Newman studio
Illustration & Design