On May 17, 2014, at the age of 88, the brilliant Latvian cartoonist Vitālijs Sarkans, known among friends as Vicis, passed away. Born on December 23, 1925, he grew up in Krustpils but spent most of his life in London. Few Latvians have achieved greater fame abroad than in their homeland, but cartoonist Vitālijs was one of them.

Under the pseudonym Sax, he appeared in England’s most widely read newspapers and magazines, such as Daily Mirror, Titbits, and Weekend, as well as other international publications (e.g., La Settimana Enigmistica in Italy). He was recognized as one of the finest artists in his genre. His genre, known in English as gag cartoon, typically consists of a single drawing with a short caption intended to provoke laughter (the word gag comes from early theater, meaning a comic idea). Rod McKie, a fellow cartoonist who draws for Wall Street Journal columns, called him “the great SAX” in a newspaper. Rod McKie wrote: “Hey, I loved Vitālijs’ work. There wasn’t another gag cartoonist in Britain who wasn’t indebted to him in some way. Some of us imitated his drawing style, many his sense of humor, and some both. But he never looked down on us for it. I studied his cartoons, and I think I saw 100 cartoons in a single week scattered across Weekend, Titbits, Woman’s World, She Magazine, The Sun, The Mirror, The Star, Daily Express, and Weekly News — and they were all funny! Studying how he filled a 12x7.5 cm rectangle with so many different characters, I went through a masterclass in cartooning. SAX didn’t just fill his cartoons with drawings; he created characters — each played their role and perfectly matched the words SAX gave them. The world of gag cartoons has changed beyond recognition, and many publications that once featured his work either no longer exist or no longer publish cartoons. Every editor wanted SAX’s drawings. Only a few giant talents remain in the world of gag cartoons: I can think of just two, and one of them was SAX. He was truly special.”

In 2005, Vitālijs Sarkans received a special award from the Cartoonists’ Club of Great Britain for his lifetime achievements. In Vitālijs Sarkans’ own words: “My first conscious act was to grab a pencil. Growing up, I had ambitions to become an artist, a painter. World War II disrupted my dreams. In 1945, along with thousands of my generation who survived the war, I found myself in exile. Two years later, I arrived in England. In the early years, I worked various, mostly physical, jobs — first in Liverpool, then in Manchester. In my free time, I began studying art. I attended evening classes at college and took correspondence courses at a press art school. I became a cartoonist in 1957, when some of my work was published in one of Britain’s largest newspapers. This was followed by work for other English newspapers and magazines.”

In 1959, he moved to London and joined Associated Newspapers. There, he met Kazi Makunas, the manager of the Lithuanian House in Notting Hill, London, and moved there to live. The next ten years, which he described as “very fun,” were spent at the Lithuanian House. In 1970, Sax married Māra Švinka, a young Latvian artist from Australia. Their daughter Aiva was born in 1976, and the family now includes two grandchildren: Leo and Mia. Vitālijs was a wonderful, talented person, full of humor and love. During his years in exile, he was well-known among Latvians in England and other Western countries. He was always happy to use his talent for Latvian events and other needs. For example, his beautiful drawing, which combines the flags of all Baltic nations, is used in informational materials for the annual Baltic deportee memorial service. His drawings for events organized by the European Latvian Youth Association, World Latvian Youth Congresses, Münster gatherings, European Summer School, London Song Festivals, and many others remain unforgettable. His work was published in Rūgtais Apinis, Londonas Avīze, ELJAs Informācija, and other Western Latvian press outlets.

For Latvians, perhaps the most memorable is his large-scale drawing depicting a typical Midsummer celebration, created decades ago but still adorning the wall of the DVF club in London. At his farewell ceremony, the back of the song sheet featured this cartoon: two men stand on a cloud in heaven, with wings on their shoulders and halos above their heads. One says to the other: “I’m surprised I’m here — my wife kept sending me in the opposite direction.”