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The Grapes of Ralph: Wine According to Ralph Steadman
Through pictures and prose, readers take a good look at the great wines of the world and the people who make them, including a lively, illuminating, often hilarious view of the world of vineyards, presses, and wine tasting.
224 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1996
4 people are currently reading
219 people want to read
About the author
Ralph Steadman
153 books265 followersRalph Steadman (born Wallasey, May 15, 1936) is a British cartoonist and caricaturist.
Born in Wallasey, Cheshire, and brought up in Towyn, North Wales, Steadman attended Ysgol Emrys Ap Iwan (high school), Abergele, East Ham Technical College and the London College of Printing and Graphic Arts during the 1960s, doing freelance work for Punch, Private Eye, the Daily Telegraph, The New York Times and Rolling Stone during this time.
Steadman is renowned for his political and social caricatures and cartoons and also for illustrating a number of picture books. Awards that he has won for his work include the Francis Williams Book Illustration Award for Alice in Wonderland, the American Society of Illustrators' Certificate of Merit, the W H Smith Illustration Award for I Leonardo, the Dutch Silver Paintbrush Award for Inspector Mouse, the Italian Critica in Erba Prize for That's My Dad, the BBC Design Award for postage stamps, the Black Humour Award in France, and several Designers and Art Directors Association Awards. He was voted Illustrator of the Year by the American Institute of Graphic Arts in 1979.
Steadman had a long partnership with the American journalist Hunter S. Thompson, drawing pictures for several of his articles and books. He accompanied Thompson to the Kentucky Derby for an article for the magazine Scanlan's, to the Honolulu Marathon for the magazine Running, and illustrated both Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72. Much of Steadman's artwork revolves around Raoul Duke-style caricatures of Thompson: bucket hats, cigarette holder and aviator sunglasses.
Steadman appears on the second disc of the Criterion Collection Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas DVD set, in a documentary called "Fear and Loathing in Gonzovision", which was made by the BBC in 1978, of Thompson planning the tower and cannon that his ashes were later blasted out of. The cannon was atop a 153-ft. tower of Thompson's fist gripping a peyote button; Thompson demands that Steadman gives the fist two thumbs, "Right now."
As well as writing and illustrating his own books and Thompson's, Steadman has worked with writers including Ted Hughes and Brian Patten, and also illustrated editions of Alice In Wonderland, Treasure Island, Animal Farm and most recently, Fahrenheit 451.
Among the British public, Steadman is well known for his illustrations for the catalogues of the off-licence chain Oddbins. He also designed the labels for Flying Dog beer and Cardinal 'Spiced' Zin', which was banned in Ohio for Steadman's "disturbing" interpretation of a Catholic cardinal on its label.
Steadman also illustrates Will Self's column in The Independent newspaper. Johnny Depp's anthology of songs, "Rogue's Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs, and Chanteys" (2006) surprisingly contains two contributions from Steadman. He sings lead on "Little Boy Billee", and sings backing vocals on Eliza Carthy's song "Rolling Sea". Depp played Raoul Duke in the film adaptation of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
Steadman currently lives with his wife in Kent, England.
Born in Wallasey, Cheshire, and brought up in Towyn, North Wales, Steadman attended Ysgol Emrys Ap Iwan (high school), Abergele, East Ham Technical College and the London College of Printing and Graphic Arts during the 1960s, doing freelance work for Punch, Private Eye, the Daily Telegraph, The New York Times and Rolling Stone during this time.
Steadman is renowned for his political and social caricatures and cartoons and also for illustrating a number of picture books. Awards that he has won for his work include the Francis Williams Book Illustration Award for Alice in Wonderland, the American Society of Illustrators' Certificate of Merit, the W H Smith Illustration Award for I Leonardo, the Dutch Silver Paintbrush Award for Inspector Mouse, the Italian Critica in Erba Prize for That's My Dad, the BBC Design Award for postage stamps, the Black Humour Award in France, and several Designers and Art Directors Association Awards. He was voted Illustrator of the Year by the American Institute of Graphic Arts in 1979.
Steadman had a long partnership with the American journalist Hunter S. Thompson, drawing pictures for several of his articles and books. He accompanied Thompson to the Kentucky Derby for an article for the magazine Scanlan's, to the Honolulu Marathon for the magazine Running, and illustrated both Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72. Much of Steadman's artwork revolves around Raoul Duke-style caricatures of Thompson: bucket hats, cigarette holder and aviator sunglasses.
Steadman appears on the second disc of the Criterion Collection Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas DVD set, in a documentary called "Fear and Loathing in Gonzovision", which was made by the BBC in 1978, of Thompson planning the tower and cannon that his ashes were later blasted out of. The cannon was atop a 153-ft. tower of Thompson's fist gripping a peyote button; Thompson demands that Steadman gives the fist two thumbs, "Right now."
As well as writing and illustrating his own books and Thompson's, Steadman has worked with writers including Ted Hughes and Brian Patten, and also illustrated editions of Alice In Wonderland, Treasure Island, Animal Farm and most recently, Fahrenheit 451.
Among the British public, Steadman is well known for his illustrations for the catalogues of the off-licence chain Oddbins. He also designed the labels for Flying Dog beer and Cardinal 'Spiced' Zin', which was banned in Ohio for Steadman's "disturbing" interpretation of a Catholic cardinal on its label.
Steadman also illustrates Will Self's column in The Independent newspaper. Johnny Depp's anthology of songs, "Rogue's Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs, and Chanteys" (2006) surprisingly contains two contributions from Steadman. He sings lead on "Little Boy Billee", and sings backing vocals on Eliza Carthy's song "Rolling Sea". Depp played Raoul Duke in the film adaptation of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
Steadman currently lives with his wife in Kent, England.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
August 25, 2015
An illustrious illustrative look at the wine world thru Ralph Steadman's demon mind. Pure Gonzo.
January 1, 2021
The sort of off-the-wall gonzo writing that is akin to pop music that relies solely on auto-tune. Whether any organic ability is there or not, all you need to strangely mesmerize your audience is a good idea and a charismatic personality.
The Grapes of Ralph seemed like a good enough idea, and there is promise in his travels through the world's various wine countries, but unfortunately Ralph fell well short on the personality front. There's some enjoyable humor here and there, but Steadman takes a backseat to his co-collaborator Hunter S. Thompson in charm and coherence (which I did not think possible). I found myself almost skimming entire paragraphs before pausing to try and understand what the heck he was rambling on about.
Thinking about it some more, the analogy to auto-tune isn't a complete picture. Mix in some abstract modern instrumental music or off the rails electric guitar solo where the guitarist starts slamming his guitar, and you have a better picture of the abrupt topic and structure changes that dot this reading experience. Some probably love the uniqueness, but this particular effort just didn't do it for me.
3/5 stars on the artwork though.
The Grapes of Ralph seemed like a good enough idea, and there is promise in his travels through the world's various wine countries, but unfortunately Ralph fell well short on the personality front. There's some enjoyable humor here and there, but Steadman takes a backseat to his co-collaborator Hunter S. Thompson in charm and coherence (which I did not think possible). I found myself almost skimming entire paragraphs before pausing to try and understand what the heck he was rambling on about.
Thinking about it some more, the analogy to auto-tune isn't a complete picture. Mix in some abstract modern instrumental music or off the rails electric guitar solo where the guitarist starts slamming his guitar, and you have a better picture of the abrupt topic and structure changes that dot this reading experience. Some probably love the uniqueness, but this particular effort just didn't do it for me.
3/5 stars on the artwork though.
February 18, 2024
The artwork is amazing. I skimmed most of the book, although I did learn a few tidbits.
Read
June 22, 2009Read the STOP SMILING interview with artist Ralph Steadman
STEADMAN on STEADMAN
By Sally Vincent
(This interview originally appeared in STOP SMILING The U.K. Issue)
n February, writer Sally Vincent sat down in the home studio of artist Ralph Steadman, 70, in Kent, England for a cover story interview. Below is an excerpt of that conversation, available in full in Issue 26: The U.K. Issue
Stop Smiling: You stopped drawing politicians a while back. Have you ever been tempted to start again?
Ralph Steadman: I stopped in 1987 because it felt indecent to draw someone you wouldn’t ask home for supper. But that was just personal. I thought there was something unwholesome about political caricature based on the certain knowledge that each time you draw one of the bastards it feeds into their monstrous egos, because they always want to own the drawing. No matter how bad the likeness, how hideous the caricature, to them it’s a powerful rendition, fodder for their insatiable egos. The more wicked and cruel the portrait, the more passionately they want to own it, as though they have somehow earned the glory of this vicious, awful vituperation. It is only a one-man campaign to wither the inflated sense of self-importance of our venal representatives. I doubt there’s a politician alive who has felt the draught of my indifference. And no, I’ve never been tempted. I wouldn’t give any of them the satisfaction.
SS: Tucked away in all your splendor in this desirable corner of England’s green and pleasant land, do you hear any echoes of the big bad world outside?
RS: Evil happens when good men do nothing. Who said that? Here in England we don’t really care about local government. The infrastructure has always been there, everything ticks over, the binmen come on Mondays and Thursdays, the school’s round the corner, there’s a public library in the High Street and Dad’s roses are coming on a treat. The butcher, baker and candlestick-maker put themselves up for election and nobody bothers to wonder what they stand for or goes out to vote or not vote for them. We think, well, somebody’s got to do it. By dint of popular indifference the candlestick-maker puts himself up and is democratically elected, knowing he can get away with murder. He will have power, people will doff their caps, he can tell lies, line his pockets, chop a tree down. He’s a local councilor. He’s in planning. And it’s all built on the inertia of the populace.
There’s something happening in Maidstone now. It’s a small town. They just started adopting the French habit of having tables and chairs on the pavements outside cafes when it’s sunny and warm. It looks pretty, does no harm and people enjoy it. So what do they do? They decide to charge a levy for having chairs on the pavement. That incensed me. Then there’s the riverside. It’s enough to make a rat weep. They took our riverside and turned it into a dual carriageway. Then they built a huge new courtroom, which physically is a bigger shock than a 20-year jail sentence, right where there used to be a lovely marketplace for people to set out their stalls.
Here’s another one. I go for a walk on Saturday mornings. I cool out, drive into town to go to the art shop for inks and things. I park my car in the car park. They sell only three-hour tickets, so I always have more than two hours left on my ticket when I’ve done my errands. I’d wait for someone to drive in so I could hand it over. I’d say, here you go, there’s still two hours on mine. And they’d say thanks very much. It was a nice thing to do. Made me feel good and community spirited. But they twigged it. Now you have to write your car number on your ticket to keep you from handing it over to someone else. They’ve managed to curtail a human being’s inclination to be neighborly. At a stroke. It’s not as if they were losing money. They’ve got their three hours’ worth. Except they want more. They want double and triple their money for nothing. It gets to me. I obsess about it. What do they look like, these people? I have to imagine them, nasty bastards, members of Masonic lodges and golf clubs, with minions scurrying about slapping fines on cars. That’s small-town blinkeredness. It allows the venal to progress in an underhanded way. It enables them to become liars, manipulators, have people do their greedy bidding, pass contracts over to their pals. And the public elects them, perceives their power and says, “Yes, you’re the bully and now we side with you because we know which side of our bread is buttered.” So there’s your microcosm for you.
Read the complete interview...
STEADMAN on STEADMAN
By Sally Vincent
(This interview originally appeared in STOP SMILING The U.K. Issue)
n February, writer Sally Vincent sat down in the home studio of artist Ralph Steadman, 70, in Kent, England for a cover story interview. Below is an excerpt of that conversation, available in full in Issue 26: The U.K. Issue
Stop Smiling: You stopped drawing politicians a while back. Have you ever been tempted to start again?
Ralph Steadman: I stopped in 1987 because it felt indecent to draw someone you wouldn’t ask home for supper. But that was just personal. I thought there was something unwholesome about political caricature based on the certain knowledge that each time you draw one of the bastards it feeds into their monstrous egos, because they always want to own the drawing. No matter how bad the likeness, how hideous the caricature, to them it’s a powerful rendition, fodder for their insatiable egos. The more wicked and cruel the portrait, the more passionately they want to own it, as though they have somehow earned the glory of this vicious, awful vituperation. It is only a one-man campaign to wither the inflated sense of self-importance of our venal representatives. I doubt there’s a politician alive who has felt the draught of my indifference. And no, I’ve never been tempted. I wouldn’t give any of them the satisfaction.
SS: Tucked away in all your splendor in this desirable corner of England’s green and pleasant land, do you hear any echoes of the big bad world outside?
RS: Evil happens when good men do nothing. Who said that? Here in England we don’t really care about local government. The infrastructure has always been there, everything ticks over, the binmen come on Mondays and Thursdays, the school’s round the corner, there’s a public library in the High Street and Dad’s roses are coming on a treat. The butcher, baker and candlestick-maker put themselves up for election and nobody bothers to wonder what they stand for or goes out to vote or not vote for them. We think, well, somebody’s got to do it. By dint of popular indifference the candlestick-maker puts himself up and is democratically elected, knowing he can get away with murder. He will have power, people will doff their caps, he can tell lies, line his pockets, chop a tree down. He’s a local councilor. He’s in planning. And it’s all built on the inertia of the populace.
There’s something happening in Maidstone now. It’s a small town. They just started adopting the French habit of having tables and chairs on the pavements outside cafes when it’s sunny and warm. It looks pretty, does no harm and people enjoy it. So what do they do? They decide to charge a levy for having chairs on the pavement. That incensed me. Then there’s the riverside. It’s enough to make a rat weep. They took our riverside and turned it into a dual carriageway. Then they built a huge new courtroom, which physically is a bigger shock than a 20-year jail sentence, right where there used to be a lovely marketplace for people to set out their stalls.
Here’s another one. I go for a walk on Saturday mornings. I cool out, drive into town to go to the art shop for inks and things. I park my car in the car park. They sell only three-hour tickets, so I always have more than two hours left on my ticket when I’ve done my errands. I’d wait for someone to drive in so I could hand it over. I’d say, here you go, there’s still two hours on mine. And they’d say thanks very much. It was a nice thing to do. Made me feel good and community spirited. But they twigged it. Now you have to write your car number on your ticket to keep you from handing it over to someone else. They’ve managed to curtail a human being’s inclination to be neighborly. At a stroke. It’s not as if they were losing money. They’ve got their three hours’ worth. Except they want more. They want double and triple their money for nothing. It gets to me. I obsess about it. What do they look like, these people? I have to imagine them, nasty bastards, members of Masonic lodges and golf clubs, with minions scurrying about slapping fines on cars. That’s small-town blinkeredness. It allows the venal to progress in an underhanded way. It enables them to become liars, manipulators, have people do their greedy bidding, pass contracts over to their pals. And the public elects them, perceives their power and says, “Yes, you’re the bully and now we side with you because we know which side of our bread is buttered.” So there’s your microcosm for you.
Read the complete interview...
January 22, 2010
Dangerous enough to be considered criminal but not criminal enough to be considered dangerous. If that makes no sense, this review should make me change. Overall an entertaining foray into the world of wine. The journey somewhat randomly, or I shoddily read, vacillates between vines, wines and automobiles, with most of the emphasis on the former two. Approximately 50% of the text is extremely lively and enjoyable, while the other is somewhat bland. Fortunately there are many large colorful and enjoyable paintings by Mr. Steadman to keep us batting our eyes and hitting our bottles.
May 5, 2009
Such a fantastic quirky little book! Steadman is known for his "Cardinal Zin" label, yet this book is one (of two!) books devoted to wine regions around the world. Steadman's book is really about the art, yet his writing proves to be quirky, crazy, and very fun. A welcome addition to anyone's library and a fabulous conversation starter.
September 18, 2011
Fun foray into one man's adventures in wine. Informative and entertaining in an only 'some-what subdued' Steadman style. The art itself is worth taking a gander at any time.
February 3, 2014
Beautiful and funny illustrations with interesting but fragmented text. The most engaging writing was Steadman's journal of starting his own vineyard.
August 28, 2015
I adore Steadman's quirky drawings. He is devilishly proficient with a devil may care attitude.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews