Chris McKimmie had a desk in the college staff room that was against a wall. On the wall behind the desk lamp was a poster for a band called The Martinis, in which he was the drummer. I saw them play a few times at the Caxton Street Brasserie and at a party. The band was good, but I was really impressed by this poster which was on white paper and was a blend of two inks (a rainbow print) with black.

The poster was mostly lettering in ink with a brush and a pen, and every time I went to the staff room, I found myself glancing at it. The edges were torn off and the corners were peppered in holes from thumb tacks. The poster was about A2 size, and the drawing felt as though it was made at a smaller scale and blown up to the print size.

Today, I often think about this poster and I know why I liked it so much. It was because of the boundless freedom of the drawing and the energy in it. It was humorous, and classy and very graphic, without being slick. It was playful and effortlessly expressive. It was as though someone was whistling a drawing.

Looking at Chris’s picture books, I can see how much he was enjoying making them. He broke a lot of conventions in the way he made them (all the hand lettering in 4-colour process!). At face value, one could be mistaken that they were looking at a drawing for drawing’s sake, but the narrative always shone through.

I should have asked for a copy of that poster, but it seems like it’s seared into my memory and it and his teaching has been a real inspiration ever since.