“This was the kind of illustration method that was being done in those
days,” he explains. “Little people on shoulders, things in mouths—So I
didn’t break any new ground.” The woodcut, which Chwast chose to use
because of its sudden-death immediacy, was not new, either. It was the
medium of choice for German expressionist artists, many of whom were
members of left-wing political parties during the early twentieth century.
Anyway, novelty was less important to Chwast than effectiveness, and the
poster did have an impact “if only as an icon for those of us who had
already made up our minds about the war,” Chwast comments. “But it
certainly didn’t change any minds.”
Chwast does not harbor any false illusion that his, or any, poster
made a difference in the eventual outcome of the Vietnam War. But when
taken as one piece of ordinance in a larger arsenal, its impact is very sig-
nificant. It may not have had the same widespread exposure as the nightly
network news broadcasts (which arguably changed Americans’ perceptions
more than anything else); it may not have been as influential as rock songs
like Country Joe and the Fish’s “Fixin’ to Die Rag.” But it was a mnemonic
representation of government folly that underscored deep-seated dissent
and an effective component of the larger antiwar campaign. It was also
ubiquitous in graphic design magazines and competition annuals, which
presumably helped to raise the awareness, if not stimulate the activism, of
those in the design profession.
tuis.
(Tuis.)
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