The 3rd International Cartoon Contest 2019 Morocco

Deadline: June 03, 2019. Because of his participation in the competitions, the author lends his works to the organizers for exhibitions. The works sent remain at the disposal of the organizers for two years. The jury members will be


The 3rd International Cartoon Contest 2019 Morocco..





MOROCCO
June 03, 2019
(@)

The 3rd edition of the International Cartoon Contest - Morocco 2019
3rd Edition of The International Festival of Cartoon in Africa.

Regulations
Anyone who participates in the contest agrees with the terms of the regulation and
Jury decisions.

Theme: 1
"Street Children" for cities without children in street situations Conditions of participation in the contest
The number of works per participant is limited to 2 (two). The works can not have been published, exhibited or won prizes in Morocco or abroad.
Format: A4, 300 dpi, JPG / JPEG and free techniques

• Deadline: 03/6/2019

Works that do not meet the conditions in this regulation will not be considered for the contest.
The following prices are provided:
First prize (duck).
Second prize (Africa)
Third prize (pencil stroke)
Three special prices

Cartoons must be sent to:
arabetoon@gmail.com
magrebtoon@gmail.com

Because of his participation in the competitions, the author lends his works to the organizers for exhibitions. The works sent remain at the disposal of the organizers for two years.
• The jury members will be considered as participants in the exhibition
And represent their own countries.
Their names will automatically be added to the list of participants
(They will only participate in the exhibition, Not in competition (just honor participation).
• Works may be used for promotional purposes
(Printing, websites, newspapers, posters, invitation cards ...)
Without the permission of the artist and without any payment.

Themes: 2 
Hammouda satirical portrait
The following prices are provided:
Three special prices
***

Hamouda (Biography)

A born artist, Hammouda, with his lucid eyes, was able to denounce, thanks to his caricatures, the weaknesses of a world that has never been welcoming to him. It was his way of leading the fight. A fertile imagination and great finesse had allowed him to establish himself in the world of the press. It has been a delight for readers for years. He left us prematurely on March 4, 1998.
Small Jean. Sidi Kacem. The capital of the chrardas represents for the traveler in a hurry, the antinomy of the city. Carriages lifting dust volutes, a refinery that pollutes the atmosphere and water at the limit of drinking. For local people, Sidi-Kacem is anything but that. Hammouda was one of them.
The late caricaturist of Libération loved his hometown a lot. Overlooking the city, a beautiful little pine forest. This is where the teenagers we were enjoying roamed. From these heights, Hammouda glanced incredibly lucidly at a world that did not give him presents.
His father had made the joke of dying when he was just eight years old.
An interval of two months between the death of the father and the disappearance of the mother was enough to plunge Hammouda and his four brothers and sisters into the blackest misery.


A budding rebel
Despite a daily life of hell, closed horizons and education interrupted brutally by the death of both parents, the little boy of Sidi Kacem wanted to be a hero. Passionate film buff and crazy fan of comics, he dreamed of a success like the one he often saw on the screen of the Vox cinema. He already had a nice stroke of pencil at the time. When he was annoyed, he took revenge by crunching us on paper in postures that ridiculed us.
It was the weapon of a shy boy who hid his handicap under acid jokes.
If his heroes belonged to the legend, he nevertheless had a lucid vision and modest ambitions.
He liked to throw in the face of his detractors names, local people who had succeeded, who had crossed the borders for a well-deserved success. He wanted to create Comic Strip, to be one of the forerunners in this matter in Morocco.
An encouraging reply from theVaillant editions in France had, at the time, boosted his morale. But the objective material constraints had closed the doors of an exile that could have been gilded.

Faced with the anguish of everyday life, he offered a foolproof sense of humor, a way of making fun of life that was disturbing. Iconoclast, he turned the burghers into fools and the well-meaning people had only to behave well. During an adolescence marked by questioning, tournaments, tests, there were nevertheless glimmers of hope. This hope had names, the names of those who had left the soil for a better and successful future.
Some had made a military career, others had embarked on business, others had chosen the press. It was towards her that her heart swayed the most. It is through this window that he will throw up his grievances against an inhuman society.


With a very brief writing culture, he knew his limits. There remained the drawing. The caricature he lived on a daily basis. His first batch of drawings at the recent Akhbar Souk created at the time by Mohamed Filali had earned him immediate recruitment. The puny teenager, plagued by asthma, suddenly found himself immersed in the powerful lamps of a high-class office in a posh daily newspaper in Rabat.
It was the start for a long opening marked by interesting encounters and harsh criticism through the funny drawings.
The sense of derision
It is in the newspaper Al Ittihad Al Ichtiraki that Hammouda will finish by perfecting his talent. His drawings would become for many readers a reference to an unvarnished vision of a society marked by flagrant contradictions. His view of everyday life was a perpetual caricature.

He never gave up his humor and on every occasion, he cast on people and things a lucid look that allowed him to find the ridiculous, the visible and the funny in any situation.
He laughed so much about life that he was believed to be hostile to life. Yet he loved to tear up a vision of the world where suffering would no longer be the lot of the majority. Like all artists, he had his own way of fighting. His mills, he snapped at them with a furious feather. Often his fierce drawings did not go beyond the chief editor because he rarely put reins in his ardor.
He loved the Beatles, El Ghiwane and Brel a lot. He wanted like this last:
Dreaming an impossible dream.
Carry the sorrows of departures.
Burn with a possible fever.
Leave where nobody leaves

Have
---------------
Website >>
Source >>








Entry FORM
(Morocco 2019)