Friday, April 25, 2014

Notes On: Simon Moreton - Grand Gestures




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Simon Moreton seems like a man who takes a lot of long car rides. Not because he travels a lot or because Grand Gestures is filled with lavish drawings of the english countryside, but because his work is filled with the opposite. The minutia of the every day. Images that are only captured from glancing moments looking outside the car window while on the expressway. It is for this that i suspect Moreton takes a lot of long car drives, even though i don't have the faintest idea about him or his travel plans. Because no man who could revel in such tiny moments while breaking the speed limit.


Grand Gestures seems at first glance a joke title, the work as i said is about the movement of everyday life, the unextravagant. But as these three interlinked stories build over the course of forty pages we see the extraordinary. Simple things that happen in daily life, things that pass us by as we drive to a sale conferences or take off ramp mid journey to get a cup of coffee, are in and of themselves moments of importance. Grand feats that we never register because they take place between lane changes and turn signals.


Moreton paces Grand Gestures in bursts of motion and moments of stillness. The road, parking lots, overpasses rush by with the intensity of a car driving eighty, until the page becomes transfixed on a single object. Moving closer and closer until it again whisks away in the space of a gutter. The reader moves through Grand Gestures like a driver looking around for miles and miles thinking they're lost until seeing a factory with an odd sign, an old barn, a dilapidated shop and suddenly knowing exactly where they are in space and time. Moreton is looking for that sign to fix his eyes upon and he find it in the migration of geese.

While the wordless collection has a protagonist of sorts in a business man, it is really the environment that he exists within that is the focal point.Taking place between October and November, the migratory period of the Canadian Goose, thousands of birds flying thousands of miles to a single location without the help of GPS, but one which most people will not look at with importance, if at all, we ourselves only see this act transpire alongside our ‘protagonist” daily migration from home to work. It is a side-plot occurring between exit ramps, bt it is the only plot of importance in the work.


In the most climactic moment of the work we see the unnamed protagonist walk towards a field that is occupied by geese in mid journey. We are left by Moreton, panel by panel, to relearn the meaning of a brushstroke, with each of his lines denoting entire ecosystems in upheaval. As the man gets nearer and nearer the flock his own shape, a circle with an oblong attached, begins to warp into something else, something trying to be closer in touch with the geese, with nature, something trying to fly away with them, but unable. Bound to the earth by sales conferences. While this is happening the geese on an almost panel by panel basis begin transforming into leaves falling from branches because of the cold, a forrunner of the death inherent in the winter, one which literalizes the need of  the geeses to find a new habitat. Our business man doesn't have this biological imperative. He just goes to the mall and waits for the seasons to change and the geese to return.

                    -----------------------------------------------

Moreton’s artwork falls under the comics minimalism camp that has recently been on a resurgence. His lines are not solid or through, instead the take up as little space and travel as little distance as necessary to convey the idea of the object to the reader. A slightly curved line becomes an exit ramp, a circle with a oblong attached becomes a man and the letter V becomes a migrating goose. In it's minimalism Moreton pushes the reader to find their own meanings, their own associations.



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Grand Gestures is published by Retrofit Comics.

You can purchase both a Print and PDF version from the Retrofit Comics Site. Moreton also posts some comics on his Tumblr.
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Wednesday, April 16, 2014

I Ain't Got Too Much Pride: Written during a two week bender



On American Movie:

"I'd like that American peppermint schnaps with some ice and some sprite" says the old man, supposedly worth 250k, yet still living in a trailer park. He is financing a B-Movie. Or more so a C-Movie. It's director guarantees three thousand units sold at fifteen dollars a unit. A Forty-five thousand dollar return on investment. With the initial funds repaid and the remaining left over to finance his next film. Another C-Movie. This one better though. Nothing else is allowed. Three thousand units he insists while wiping his hand across the whiteboard which details the possible revenues for lesser sales in front of a camera in a boardroom. It's unclear if the swipe is simply for dramatic effect or for his own benefit, but his eyes makes one feel like he needed the gesture to be recorded on film. He can believe in it more that way. He's watched movies his whole life.He knows internally the action beats of a film. The rolling of celluloid gives him a grandeur that doesn't live within him. He is a small man under any other circumstance, but when that film roles he is a man of action.

For the remainder of the film he promises three thousand units sold without any of the doubt which engulfed his being before the gesture seemingly washed it away. It is a show don't tell medium.

Covan is a horror film by a director who's never directed a feature before. The director is the subject of this film, of American Movie, but everyone that the camera touches on, lingers on, could equally be the focus. The director isn't that important. What is important though is that he thinks of himself as important. An artist. Everyone asked to pronounce Covan says it wrong according to the directors. They just don't get it. His vision is unique to himself. He is an auteur.

The director owes the IRS $85 and some change. Along with child support.

The director is the kind of man who will reference Ingmar Bergman shots when scouting locations in the backwoods of Illinois.Speak of Manhattan as if Woody Allen and Gordon Willis are his contemporaries. He talks like a snake oil salesman when selling his film; putting on the air of being the smartest person in the room, even when he's left talking alone in a broken down Buick that he had to borrow gas money the night before to make the drive to a airport parking lot to write in silence. The airport calms him. It is not stated whether or not he ever worked there.

The next scene shows the old man, or the first scene, it depends on if you trust my narrative or that of the films. It doesn't matter. The old man is drunk, in the tub being washed by the "director", being filmed as always. The old man seems thankful for the company. Although in most scenes he complains about how he isn't told whats going on during the shooting of the film. He half jokes that his money is never going to be returned. Three thousands units seems more like a punchline that will be inscribed on his tombstone than an actual number. The mother, who owns the house, is fearful that the old man left un-attended will drown in his drunkenness. Not by choking on his own vomit like Jimmie Hendrix or some other star i feel like the director could name off from decades of memory, but simply by being alone in a tub. By being old. Alone.

The director though never seems to not believe in his product. Or his intelligence. He tested highly in school we are told by his mother and siblings. Well past his age. He dropped out though because he said he wasn't learning anything. After a series of bills by creditors he opens a letter from Mastercard pre-approving him of a new credit card. He speaks of life's many ups and downs. The cosmic joke. He can now afford to at least get the government and his ex-wife off his back. Maybe even afford a few more feet of celluloid. 

His filming continues...

*****************************************************
Eric Packer: How old are you? I'm interested.
Benno Levin: Do you think people like me can't happen?
Eric Packer: How old?
Benno Levin: We happen... 41.
Eric Packer: A prime number.
Benno Levin: But not an interesting one.
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Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Notes on: Sam Alden - Wicked Chicken Queen





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Wicked Chicken Queen is a story told in two parts, but in many ways it’s the same story told twice. The story of birth and death and how wallowing in the latter ruins everything in between . The story opens with the discovery of an egg that had washed up on the shores of a tiny island inhabited by one eyed creatures. The chicken that hatches from the egg at first resembles a “slithering monstrosity”, but through the caregiving of the islander she quickly grows up to be a “beautiful pullet” with sutors fighting outside here home to get just a moment of her time. The chicken is quickly adopted by the islands King and becomes the Chicken Princess. She then marries her original finder, and lifelong friend, Saskia. A princess story for the ages. 

It is at this point though that the fairytale aspect of the story begins to fade away, as Alden injects the problems of reality into his fantasy narrative, life and death. Quickly after her marriage to Saskia the islands King passes away making her and Saskia the new queens of the island. While a darkness starts to grow inside the Chicken Queen due to her inability to fully process the death of her father, she and Saskia are still able to lead the island forward, and with the aid of the eggs the queen lays her subjects are able to transition from a fishing based society to one of “gathering”.This conversion allows the islanders to start building the elaborate and ornate castles which fantasy novels are renowned for. While the Chicken Queen was no longer a princess free of any cares, she was now at least a benevolent queen that took care of her subjects, what most princess i’d hope wished to grow up to be. 

But then, on cue, another tragedy strikes. The death of her wife Saskia. The Chicken Queen is unable to bear this second assault on her fantasy world. She cries for a year in her palace before she is able to face her people, but then, following this momentary return though she learns that the eggs she laid which feed her people have changed, now tasting of clay. And with this final insult she retreats completely into her palace to, one assumes, never be seen again.
 
At the stories mid-way point we experience a time jump, moving the narrative decisively away from the fantasy aspects of the Chicken Queen period and into the modern. We now follow the narrator's life post-Chicken Queen, and while her problems are particularly bourgeoisie in nature (her daughter moving away too law school, her ex-husband that she’s not quite over, the possibility of losing material possessions, etc.)at the heart of them they are still the same as the Chicken Queen. Something is missing in her life that she used to have, but no longer does.The difference though is she is living with this lose and searching for a way to fill these holes.

The moment after our narrators confession though the Chicken Queen reemerges from her forgotten palace and “lays waste” to the island. Destroying the world that her once subjects had created without her. The Chicken Queen dies following this act, but it seems in that moment that she was trying to teach our narrator an alternative way to deal with her situation, to hide away and let her resentment fester. Her final act as Queen is a tantrum at those who found out how to accept  lose, those that moved on. The Chicken Queen couldn’t because she lived in a fantasy world where this wasn’t supposed to happen in. When the islands inhabitants go to see where the Chicken Queen had spent her self imposed exile living we are left with an image depicting them simply walking up the staircase to an abandoned palace. We never learn what they find there, if there is anything to find there at all. I feel Alden wished not to dig the final nail into the coffin of the Chicken Queens life though, to leave the reader some hope that a productive life could be lived in seclusion, but my hopes aren’t high for it. As the narrator says standing over the Chicken Queen’s corpse “it seemed as though she’d been dead for a long time already.” 
                                                             ----------------------------

*Alden’s pencil work varies between being extremely tight (Backyard) and a more, almost playful, looseness  (Hawaii 1997). This dichotomy is on full display in Wicked Chicken Queen as each page ping-pongs back and forth between these two aesthetics. The ease of slipping between his two different styles is helped by how Alden choose to lay out the book as a series of single page illustrations. Each page takes on the general shape of the island, but morphs to highlight a specific element or moments in the Islands history. This allows Alden to move between more structured and striking single images, like the budding courtship of the Chicken Queen, which is rendered as a single page depicting the Chicken Queen holding Saskia in the palm of her hand while they stand next to a lake. It’s a quiet moment that needs nothing but stillness to capture its beauty. Alternatively when Alden needs to illustrate a  moment of excitment, like the hatching of the Chicken Queen, he loosens up his line and composition. The horns blow, the sky blurs, and the people dance in an example of a page that could not exist as a fourth draft, but instead lies in the immediacy of the first instance of pencil touching paper. The page has a flow to it that seems so simple, but that's the brilliance behind it, because even the addition or the removal of a single line would destroy its liveliness.

*This is the second instance of a cartoonist (that i’ve seen) in the alt scene using a “story” book approach to comics.That is a single image per page with blocks of text as the only written component. (The other example is Michael DeForges First Year Healthy). While this format has yet to produce a series of images less than striking, i am still left them feeling distanced from the characters. I suspect its that i don’t associate the words in the text with the character in the story. In Wicked Chicken Queen Alden was largely able to overcome this distancing effect by drawing the Chicken Queen with such raw emotion, although i don’t think the same could be said for the townspeople of the island, even Saskia and the narrator leave me feeling nothing.  

*Having erased dialogue faintly visible on the page is something i unconditionally love in comics. Its like radiographed colors shifting in the printing process outside of their designated area’s. It gives the work an instantaneous homemade feeling that warms my heart. Even if the book has an ISBN.

* While I wish more of Aldens mini-comics were printed in larger formats through sheer greed, Wicked Chicken Queen is the first to truly need the space. Luckily Box Brown and Retrofit Comic thought so too. Reproducing the work at the mini-comics version of a deluxe edition i.e. a the size of a standard “floppy” comic you could pull out of any quarter bin.

*Besides the size of i’m also a fan of the paper they choose, it’s texture leaves you feeling like you’re holding the graphite smoothed and eraser stubbled originals.

* The way Alden directs the reader’s eye in each illustration is interesting. Alden had previously played around with the way the eye is drawn across the page in his 2012 comic Ellie Olston. Ellie Olston follows the Chippendale Zig Zag layout found in Maggot (right to left down a column then left to right), but in that case it wasn’t, as Chippendale had designed it, to produce a continued sense of motion by never allowing the readers eyes to revert back to their original starting position, but instead to produce a flow in the work as the individual panels mimicked the notes of a song being sung. It was more of an artistic flourish which made sense when compared to the stories heavy Craig Thompson influence. 

In Wicked Chicken Queen Alden has refined the technique a bit, but the problem is his lack of consistency in his image makings sequential nature. The first image quite intelligently teaches the reader how to read the image in a sequential manner, as a line of creatures march from a sinking ship in the bottom left corner of the page up a series of bridges and tunnels to the islands peak on the top right of the page. On the next page though we see a figure on the bottom right corner fishing and then running up to the top left with her fishing pole to a figure adorned in a crown. While these two examples are pretty straight forward and easy to discern after a moment of looking at the page as the book progresses the island at points develops into microcosms where the bottom section is to be read in one direction, the middle in another and the top in something wholly different. At other times there are no sequences to be found at all. While each image on its own is beautiful, by not providing a singular, or at least alternating way to read them they become just that, beautiful images.

* I found this page online that didn’t make it into the final collection. It seems like it was a good idea to pull it, at least in the context of this story. Still a pretty looking page though. 



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Wicked Chicken Queen is published by Retrofit Comics. It is his first (widely available) comic to be printed this year. Later this year Uncivilized Press will be publishing a collection of his short stories including the Ingatz winning Hawaii 1997. Until then you can read most of his work on his Tumblr.


You can purchase Wicked Chicken Queen on the Retrofit Site, WOWCOOL, or Amazon if you’re heartless.
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Sunday, July 22, 2012

- – - P.S.: I Wrote This on a Self-Destructing Memo


Shawn Starr / don’t need no hug 




———————-Batman: Earth 1 ———————-

The point of the Earth One line of OGN’s is to capture the proverbial “new reader” that never seems to appear. My guess as to why, is that comics are by and large expensive and shitty. Fifty Shades of Grey is $10 and, although poorly written, will at least make your mother and sister cum; Batman: Earth One is $24 and will just make you feel empty inside. Batman has a strict no cum policy in place. AND HE IS THE LAW!

The only moment of emotion felt in Earth One is when Batman sweeps Alfred’s leg like Johnny Lawrence in Karate Kid and showed that cripple son of a bitch who’s the boss. Because in that moment Alfred (and you, my dear reader) know Bats is really ready for the mean streets of Gotham, because only Batman is so cold that he’d knock the prosthetic limb off of the only man who was ever there for him. He took lassie out behind the shed and put a .22 square between his eyes and became a man in that single moment, because that’s how you become a man, by killing the things you love. And Geoff Johns kills everything he loves. Because he is a man. And so is Batman.

—————–Batman #11——————–

The joke was there was no joke.

——————Bulletproof Coffin: Disinterred #6————–

No review, just this.


———————-Thickness #3 ———————-

You ever see anal beads shoved up a man’s urethra? If not email me, I got pics for you.

———————- Walking Dead #100——————-

This is going to be the highest selling comic of the year, maybe the decade, and it seems set out to prove to everyone that Marvel and DC do not have a monopoly on shitty comics.

It takes a cynical man to write the same comic he did 55 issues ago and think no one will pick up on it, and I guess in between screwing his co-creators out of royalties so he can buy more KFC grease to rub on himself, Kirkman got his cynicism down. Joey (Alusiolioe) posits that Kirkman has a random plot generator, i posit that he has a 3 sided dice with maim, kill, copy plot of -50 issues ago that he rolls each arc to determine the fate of his characters; and copy takes up 47 of the 52 sides of the die.

———————–Spider-Men #3————————-

The following is an excerpt from the pitch meeting for Spider-Men:

Marvel: “Come on baby, i thought we had something special here, it’ll be quick, you won’t feel a thing.”

Bendis: “I’m not sure… i don’t feel comfortable about it…”

Marvel: “Baby, don’t you love me?”

Bendis: “Yeah, but…”

Marvel: “Then you’ll let me…”

Bendis: “I don’t know…”

Marvel: “Baby…”

Bendis: “I just don’t know… will it hurt?”

Marvel: “Will it hurt?”

Bendis: “Yeah, will it?”

Marvel:"I would never do anything to hurt you. Never.”

Bendis:"Are you sure?"

Marvel:"Yeah"

Bendis: “Ok. I guess”

Marvel: "Are you sure?"

Bendis: "Yeah, I'm sure"

Marvel: “I love you”

Bendis: “I love you to”
*insertion*

—AN ASIDE: SASSY SAYs SUBSCRIBING Soooo ZoO SOUNDS SILLY______




The primary obstacle in comics, for the artist, is to convey motion. Unable to show every action, like animation, artists need to pick out the major beats and convince the reader the character got from one point to another. All in the span of a single gutter. It’s a difficult task, and the over-rendered nature of mainstream comics has made it all the more so. Readers expect splash pages and group shots, but inherent in this is a reduction in the spontaneity of the artists line work: when every line is pre-planned and pre-arranged; before ever being put to paper the image just sits there like a stiff corpse. There’s a reason why Kirby’s panels jump off the page, and it’s not because he’s laboring over each panel.
One of those silly philosophical questions you’re asked as a child is “if a tree falls in the woods, does it make any noise?”. The actual answer is no, since sound requires a human (or “living” entity) to register the motion taking place. It is because of this fact that sound in comics is impossible, but for it to even be a possibility it requires the artist to provide the semblance of motion on the page. Which far to many fail to do.

It is for this fact that the use of sound effects is so widespread in comics, they are used as a way to hedge one’s bets against the incompetence of so many artists and show explicitly whats occurring on panel. Where the purple prose of Alan Moore’s Swamp Thing once secured this fact, writers and editors are now stripped down to this single tool. Which they use as subtlety as Snoop Dog’s drug advocacy. This in turn ruins the artwork of competent artists by adding foreign objects into the composition and making each element unbalanced.

There’s no real point to this , besides that you shouldn’t ruin Jerome Opena’s art with sound effects to reinforce the point that he did in fact illustrate someone getting stabbed, but maybe it’s OK on a Billy Tan page.

———————-MORE OF AN ASIDE: Pop that Pussy Patrol =====================

I went to the beach this week; this is what I learn’t:

Mandy is supposedly a bitch.

Some girl within earshot had sand in her crotch.

The proper ratio of rum to cola, in a beach setting, is one liter to one pint.

Sand crotch girl doesn’t remember where she got all her bruises from… she drinks a lot.

All I learn’t about beach life from 1950′s movies was a lie. There was in fact, no beach battles, nor was there a clam shack rock band playing music for all the beach babes to bop the night away at.

I am not a fun beach companion.

——————————-BloodStrike #1———————-
 
RUBBING THE BLOOD is no longer a provided service. I demand a refund.

——————————- LINK DUMP—————-




This was awesome

Additionally Sean Collins has taken up Tom Spurgeon’s call to talk about Love and Rockets during Comic Con pretty seriously. You can read some of his reviews and essays here . I do have to say that Jaime's Love and Rockets: New Stories #4 story was easily the greatest ending to a comic ever published. I read both Locas omnibuses over two amazing months last year and when you reach the final pages of Love Bunglers its truly a transcendent experience. Jaime Hernandez is one of the mediums greatest artists and produced one of the decade’s defining stories, his absence from both the Harveys and Eisner’s is a tragedy.

Chad Nevetts posts on Avengers vs X-men are so much more than that shitty comic ever deserved.

For all you’re League of Extraordinary Gentlemen news may I suggest The Mindless Ones and Comic Books ARE BURNING IN HELL

Tucker Stones 10 most anticipated comics of the year are pretty spot on. Although he did neglect those EC archives Fantagraphics are doing and the new Johnny Negron book from Picture Box Negron. But you know, opinions are opinions.

Mickey Zacchilli is selling original artwork from her Thickness strip. (http://mickeyz.org/)

The Chemical Box put up a new podcast, I attempted to record an episode with them earlier this year, but it was 7 hours long and unusable. This one is much better. (http://thechemicalbox.blogspot.com/)

MOCCA died and no one should give a fuck.

———– Digression #8———–


No Black Kiss review, just more Chaykin. See Black Kiss is old and therefore irrelevant. Cheer up
though, I’ve got seven inches of natural blonde on retainer for tonight.

= ==== Random Haunts, Random Digs, Random So Called Lives+++++++++++

The Scatology of Freud. –       #PossibleBandNames
 The Scatology of Freud –       #MyNewComic
  The Scatology of Freud –      #MyNewS&MClub
   The Scatology of Freud –     #MyGraduateThesis
    The Scatology of Freud –    #NotFunnyAnymore
     The Scatology of Freud –   #GrandmasFavoriteBook
——–End————-

Well, I got fired from the column this week, see you never.


- – - exit

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Left Me Wanting More Reads








Escalator:

Every time I read a Brandon Graham comic all I want to do is get on the subway, put Blueprint (KRS-One not Jay-Z) on repeat and read a stack of quarter bin comics. This collection is no different.


Escalator collects Brandon Graham's early short stories, along with some nice commentary on each stories genesis. What I always liked about these types of collections is seeing how a creator got from point A to point B (or C, D, E, F, G...). Looking at Adrian Tomine's 32 Stories collection and seeing him change so dramatically over just a few issues of Optic Nerve is amazing, especially knowing where he ultimately ended up. Grahams progression isn't as dramatic as Tomine's though, Grahams style is firmly cemented in these early stories, just less refined than it is today. His panels become busy at points, overly angular (look at his self-depiction in I Owe You compared to now) and his inking is looser, but his basic style is there.

Sugarless Candy is the first story that feels like a Graham comic, its just a guy talking to his girlfriend and looking over the cityscape before she gets on a plane for home. Graham's ability to forge an immediate connect between his characters and the reader is astonishing, even in his creative infancy within three panels he makes you identify with each character in the story in a way i still don't connect with any "mainstream" creation; curled feet peeking out of a blanket, sock puppets, old sugar free candy, Indian headdress from old memories box. These little things craft a  connection that you buy wholeheartedly in mere panels, where others take tomes. 

There's also some nice forays into auto-bio with True Crime and I Owe You, along with a funny two pager about starring at girls asses when they walk by. 

The final story collected is an early installment of Multiple Warheads which is the most accomplished (and "newest") entry in the collection. His art and writing are fully formed in this short, his hyper-detailed and yet open panels , his proclivity for puns, small side-character moments ("The ladies love a field hat") and his need to draw pretty girls with there asses sticking out are all on display here. I'm genuinely excited to see him continue this strip with Image later this year.


From the first page of Escalator to the last, you see Graham grow as an artist and storyteller, infusing his work with elements of Science Fiction, Autobiography, absurdism along with playing around with his story structure and subverting reader expectations. When you put down Escalator its easy to see how he went from this, to King City






Wild Children:




Grant Morrison's Bat-Epic opened with Batman shooting the Joker in the face, a rejection of the chaos that the Joker represented, along with the chaos of his previous comics. Morrison's initial Batman run is a story of structure and stability, wheels within wheels. Wild Children kicks off by shooting Jim Gordan in the fucking face. A direct act of rejection towards Morrison's latter day work as a corporate cog. Wild Children is a shift to the Morison of the early nineties, retro-fitted for the current zestiest. A post-Morrison, per-Morrison, comic for the Facebook Generation.

Unlike The Invisibles though, which existed in a world of Transgender Discotecha’s, Philip K Dick novels and ecstasy, Wild Children exists in the internet era. Mass communication ("For fucks sake. Televised-Youtubed-Casualties") widespread and accepted forms of fetishism ("Want me to Piss on you some more") internet criticism (" 'Sequence is Magic' – Matt Seneca") and self referential entertainment ("The Space-Time Worms in Donnie Darko, the All Now from The Invisibles, the Five Dimensional beings in Neonomicon") rule the day, and are therefore key components to Wild Children, and pop culture at large. When Morrison wrote Kill Your Boyfriend and St. Swithin's Day he was talking about youthful rebellion in the age of the post-60's protest movements, Wild Children approaches them in the post-internet digital revolution, the Anonymous movement, hacktivism, Occupy, Wikileaks.

Its a comic about comics, based on comics about comics, that have been deconstructed for a decade over internet message boards until they became something completely different. I can see readers rolling their eyes at every page, in a couple months i may too, but for right now i am fascinated by the balls behind this thing. It's both new and old, and dying to be ripped apart on 4chan. 

It's a mission statement of whats next, sent from the past to fuck up the present. 



Captain Marvel


There's nothing particularly good or bad about this comic, the script has some bounce to it in the beginning, but that dies a slow cancerous death and descends into exposition and melodrama after page five. The art seems out of place for the most part, its in an inky Rafael Albuquerque style that doesn't work with the script very well. That's not to say it's not good, it's just out of place.


The whole time reading this i was thinking how nice this comic would be if Jamie McKelvie had drawn it and they just cut out the second half and just talked about britpop while at a club full of cute girls. That would have been nice.


What i am getting at is Jamie McKelvie needs to draw more comics about cute girls dancing in clubs.


God i miss Phonogram, when's that coming back? Soon right?


Also mullet.


Fantastic Four 608


This was terrible, but i do want a comic about WW2 Black Panther fighting Japaneses soldiers in a white suit drawn by David Aja now.





Blacksad: A Silent Hell

The only real reason to pick up Blacksad is for the art, and even more specifically for the coloring. Juanjo Guarnido linework is solid with an eye for detail, but his colors are vibrant and lush. That may be why this collection devotes over thirty pages of extra's to his coloring process. His understanding of lighting is probably his most astonishing skill, being able to differentiate between a neon drenched street and a room lit only by candle light, or the shading produced by a tree's canopy, it's awe inspiring.

Juan Diaz Canales scripts are fine, they don't set the world on fire and tend to delve into genre tropes far too often. There are some nice period references and his research shows in the text, but it never really coalesces into something more. Noir and crime stories are always difficult to pull off from a writing point of view, The Third Man isn't remembered for its script but for its atmosphere, but, ultimately, theres just something missing in Canales's script.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Marra Dialogue a.k.a. Bitch Swag

Alec Berry & Shawn Starr / couldn’t come up with a title

Originally published at Spandexless.com



Alec Berry: Benjamin Marra is the dude who can’t be told ‘no’ at the moment. The industry, or the side aware of him, has latched onto his work, and no matter what genre, content or heinous thing he draws, the people can’t get enough.

I would place myself in that camp of the faithful. Like most of the industry, I too was unaware of Marra’s comics up until this year, but now after having spent time with them, I find his attitude and passion for creating engrossing, and I feel his comics represent a long forgotten aspect of the medium. Representing, of course, for the betterment of comics.

Marra’s books, while lewd, grotesque and absurd, are keeping this funny book thing on the ground, balancing out the high reaching works of Craig Thompson, or whatever other clone there may be, celebrating some of the roots associated with comics while simply presenting an artist who doesn’t really give a fuck what you think. Marra’s making the shit he wants to see, and from this I feel it’s appropriate we discuss Marra’s work after our previous discussion which pertained to Rob Liefeld. Because Marra, like Liefeld, celebrates the trash entertainment value found in comics, but does so with an energy and charm that cannot be overridden. Yet, as an added bonus, Marra’s comics juxtapose the trash subject matter by presenting astounding craft and draftsmanship, making his books into these bombastic scraps slammed together with staples.

For anyone who spends any time on the comic industry’s side of the internet, this may not be anything new to chat about as Benjamin Marra has become a very well covered, and discussed, cartoonist. You can read just about any interview with the guy and discover what I just wrote, straight from the man himself. But, this aside, he does have a new book out titled Lincoln Washington: Free Man, and I think we would be remiss not to discuss this book because, of all the Marra comics I’ve read, I feel Lincoln Washington is his absolute best. It really brings all the ideas of his work home and houses them under a perfectly illustrated composition.

From the subject matter to the characterization to the humor, this comic performs in every way. And we can’t forget the six panel grids. But, fuck, let me stop. You’re the bigger fan than I. What did you find appealing about Lincoln Washington?

Shawn Starr: I think what makes Marra important is that he makes genuinely fun comics. That seems like an odd statement, but when you examine the landscape of comics in the wake of the 80’s / 90’s intellectual movement (in both art comics via RAW and Art Spiegelman and in the “mainstream” by the likes of Alan Moore and Frank Miller) everything became serious. Too serious. Every comic, from superheroes whose only power was to shoot arrows and look like Robin Hood, to the ‘zine some guy xeroxed on his lunch break about middle-aged samurai kangaroos, was considered the pinnacle of art.

Everything became graphic-novel-this and graphic-novel-that, and comics were thrust into the hands of the mainstream under the guise of “Art”; even the Batman movie was accompanied by a Grant Morrison / Dave McKean “graphic novel” that would grab the attention of none of the moviegoers. Seriously, that book is fucking impenetrable.

Intellectualism is what everybody decided made comics acceptable, I guess. That’s why all those RAW guys live on yachts and pour champagne on bitches all day. Except Spiegelman; he just puts his cigarettes out on their inner-thighs and watches them dance real slow. Real slow. And now no one looks at the kid reading the new issue of Wolverine on the bus weird, because everyone knows how serious Wolverine is. Dude’s got adamantium claws and can’t remember his past. Dostoyevsky, eat your heart out.

Except, none of that’s true.

The problem is that Spiegelman and his disciples looked at EC Comics and MAD Magazine and saw an air of intellectualism in Harvey Kurtzman, and assumed that’s where comics went right, and pumped it up a thousandfold. They abandoned all the horror and humor that made those comics popular for an attempt at respectability. They tried to make comics for the “masses” (those masses being people who hang out at Cambridge coffee houses and try and pick up Grad-Students with an insightful critique of China’s economic development they culled from last year’s New Yorker) and lost what made comics, you know, comics. Liefeld and the Image guys recaptured that to a certain degree, but they were never able to get that underlying intellectualism down. It was a perfect mix, that everyone took the extremes of and lost what made it truly great. (The Wally Wood art didn’t hurt either.)

That air of intellectualism and is an important feature of EC and MAD, no doubt, but its beneath the surface to a large extent, or at least as beneath the surface as a 1950’s comic could be. Kids didn’t read EC and MAD to find out about Cuba’s strategic geo-political value or Soviet Collectivism, they wanted to see poop jokes and ghouls ripping limbs off unsuspecting college students, and Marra perfectly captures that feeling. Gangsta Rap Posse is steeped in the history of Gangsta Rap, but Marra doesn’t allow that to constrain the book. It’s all there if you want it, but the book is first and foremost an exploration of a 12-year old’s perception of NWA and Gangsta Rap. A view warped by the perception that the band itself put forward and the media’s further distortion under Reaganomics skewed morality. He makes comics warped by white suburbia’s fears of the violent, aggressive and subversive extremes of art and culture. Something Robert Crumb would have loved, if he hadn’t turned into a old curmudgeon who yells at his direct (rather than theoretical*) descendants to get off his lawn.

NWA smokes crack, fucks hookers and kills cops. The end. So why not make a comic about that, and not the 10,000th auto-bio comic about how you can’t get laid and no one understands you.
Marra makes fun comics first and foremost. That may be why he can do no wrong (currently), and Lincoln Washington is his best effort yet. It’s the exploitation movie Tarantino wishes he could make (and may now have) done in twenty-three expertly crafted pages. Even his use (along with the current crop of art/alt-comics creators) of the comics pamphlet is revolutionary; a back to basics approach to comic making in the strain of the original EC Comics shock aesthetic, reproduced on the disposable newsprint (which American Psycho used perfectly) that created the ideal of the trash culture of comics. No more multi-arc genre deconstructions based on a Yeats poem the author misunderstood, just single issue fistfights, with a little something more if you want it. Straight up comics.

Even Marra’s books that end with a “to be continued…” read more like a threat than a promise of more to come. Maybe Marra has a Lincoln Washington #2 in mind, but #1 did everything I wanted and more. I’m not sure comics could handle a follow up.

I don’t know. I’ve had enough of intellectualism and pseudo-realism in my comics. They have their place, i just don’t think that place is at the forefront anymore. I just want comics to be comics again, and Marra (and company) captures that aesthetic perfectly.

Also on your point of Marra’s apparent “lewdness” do you actually see his comics as “lewd” or is it his use of violence and sexuality for satirical purposes that causes that feeling? I assume that’s his intent, to create lewd and obscene work, but I don’t think any Marra book is as violent as anything that DC puts out (just look at an issue of Green Lantern and you’ll see a female in far skimpier attire than anything Marra depicts disemboweled for 20 pages at a time) or as sexual. If anything it’s less, since Marra is depicting a slave ripping out his “owners” spine purely for laughs (even the slave-owners rape of Lincoln Washington’s wife, although horrific, is done with the readers knowledge that he’s going to get what’s coming to him sooner rather than later). Maybe the problem is that Marra makes the reader complacent, or even proactive in the violence? I know when I saw what happened to everyone I was gleeful. I literally rushed out to make my brother read it and point out panels to him. While when you read the same thing in a Batman comic you’re kind of disturbed by the whole experience. Batman’s real, or at least his world is portrayed as real, Marra’s is always firmly dealing in the fictional.


AB: While the content plays into the humor or Marra’s fascination with trash entertainment, it is, by nature, still provocative, and I wouldn’t go as far as to say a DC or Marvel comic is worse or just as bad. Maybe in terms of the context, yes, a Marvel or DC can take a lighthearted thing like Green Lantern and pervert it through violence or an overly serious tone, but the violence, by itself, is still technically worse and more explicit in a Marra book. But it can feel lighthearted, as you say, because of association through humor or knowing exactly what you’re reading from the start. Batman going out and raping someone or whatever will come at more of a shock and leave more of an impact (that’s for you, Joey) just because of the expectations placed on a Batman comic. A Ben Marra comic brings with it a whole other bag of expectations. So, to a degree, I can agree with your point.

I’m not trying to demean Marra’s subjects or make these comics out to be offensive. In fact, I find the lewd quality as a definite benefit to the work because I feel it helps accomplish the mission of what Marra’s doing, in that, these are w to people. You should read Gangsta Rap Posse or Night Business alone in your room, and when your mom walks in, tuck it under the bed.. It brings back that idea of hiding shit from your parents. Like, even now in my own apartment, I stack Marra’s stuff underneath other comics because I don’t want someone to walk into my room and get any ideas about the shit I’m into. But again, that’s cool. Like you usually say, “comics as weapons.” Or comics being the poison which ruins your kids. I love that concept or perspective on the medium.

I like your thought on Marra’s violence making a reader more proactive because I do think he uses violence in such a way, as do stories or entertainment of this sort. Especially for this subject matter where good and evil are so black and white (no pun intended). You can’t help but cheer Lincoln Washington on. And that even comes down to the characterization. Washington is such a set-in-stone hero and the Klansmen are such vile pieces of shit. Nothing’s grey, and it completely dodges this current idea of what we see in super hero comics or other stories in general. Every character has turned into a washboard, contemplating life’s big questions before acting. Marra’s characters just do what they do without any further thought. Bad real life practice, great fictional stance.

But as for participating in that violence, or anticipating it, banking on it … I do find that an interesting way to read into people. Trash entertainment, being what it is, speaks to that savage side of us. That side that’s not really concerned about the consequences but just wants bloodshed, tits and hard drugs. You could go into a whole debate about whether it’s a good thing to stir up that side of our psyche or not, but I feel the point is it’s there. We possess such an instinct, and storytelling such as this feeds or at least exercises that shit out in a relatively safe way.

There’s more to say about these types of work than just wish fulfillment or humor. Maybe they help keep us sane?

For Lincoln Washington, it’s about payback. It’s about rubbing shit in the white man’s face as well as confronting some of that white guilt – on top of being about a man ripping another guy’s spine out. And it all sort of satisfies by the end, no matter the reader’s skin color, because you feel in a sense justice has been rightfully served, fictionally. But though fiction, it still hits and means something. The reaction either is one of they got what they deserved, or I, being the white man, totally needed my ass kicked.

Maybe that’s an unnecessary reading, but I like the idea of Marra’s work both being trash as well as well-thought out and intelligent. I feel much of that resides in Lincoln Washington, and it builds a little on what you were saying about the violence inciting a proactive response. The violence has a purpose. Like all the best stories.

How did you feel about the inking style on this book? It sort of reverted back, in a sense, to what he did before Gangsta Rap Posse #2. Does it fit the book for you? I would say so. The bold blacks certainly give the story more of a defined stance, and the inking really helps to depict Washington’s character as this bad ass hero type who appears cut from stone.



SS: He certainly has a lot more spot blacks in Lincoln Washington, a contrast from his last work (Gangsta Rap Posse #2) which was all line work. I’m not sure if it’s a reversion, though. His early inking style is quite heavy handed, while Lincoln Washington’s inking seems like more of a continuation from Gangsta Rap Posse than a reversion. His inking here is more restrained than his previous works, and utilized with greater purpose, something that I wouldn’t generally identify with Marra. By doing away with all the excess inking, Marra seems to have figured out when and where it’s absolutely necessary to the story and leave it out in any other instance.

In Gangsta Rap Posse #2 Marra choose not to distinguish the black cast from the white with any additional shading or color, that probably stems from  trying to keep the colors (black & white) in balance on the page, along with streamlining the process. It works on that project, and there’s a definite improvement in the art between issues #1 and #2, but in Lincoln Washington it needed the blacks to distinguish the character from his surroundings.

Lincoln Washington is the only black character in the book (except for his wife, who appears for a total of three pages), and he’s entering an “alien” and hostile place (Post-Civil War South), so his color has to be at the forefront, requiring a heavy shading/color process to separate him from the white residence. What could be ignored in Gangsta Rap Posse really can’t in Lincoln Washington. Race is a far more prominent detail.

If you look at the first page of Lincoln Washington, the only two objects that are completely black are Lincoln Washington and the title “O’ Sins of Men, What Demon Fathered You” which both distinguishes Lincoln from his surroundings and connects him with the title explicitly, the title both works as a comment on the sins of racism (America’s original sin) and Lincoln Washington, who is a man empowered by the souls of slaves to avenge the wrong doings perpetrated by white slaveholders. The colors are used as a way of separating and defining Lincoln as a character.

I also want to expand on Marra’s use of the six panel grid which you touched on. His layouts are simple, concise, and have a great 1-2 beat, while the nine panel grid always seemed too dense (probably due to its association with Alan Moore and Dave Gibbon’s Watchmen) and anything less reads too fast (Widescreen comics and their Three/Four panel grid for example are closely associated with decompression). The six panel grid allows Marra to tell a whole story, both between each panel, and over the course of twenty-three pages, without any sense of decompression, or limiting his artwork by confining it in an overly dense panel.

Marra’s ability to keep his pages kinetic has always impressed me, and I think the six panel grid has a lot to do with it. He has a particularly stiff line compared to most artists, which he uses to a great effect in showing his characters body language and adding a subtle hint of contrast between his characters by playing with their bodies “stiffness” and “looseness” on the page. But his line’s stiffness never seems to constrain the action. Everything’s in constant motion on a Marra page, making it seem that each panel is being pushed into the next. I think this is where the grids’ simplicity comes into effect. It allows the action to flow smoothly from one panel to another while still remaining clear and rhythmic, which Marra uses to offset anything static about his line work.

AB: This Matt Seneca interview with Marra is a great read, if you haven’t already.

I’d say you summed it all up nicely, Shawn; therefore, I’m going to let it go at that.

Purchase Lincoln Washington: Free Man here. That is a demand.

ENDNOTES

*Johnny Ryan and Ben Marra have more in common with Crumb content wise (especially Crumbs early work) than every artist RAW published combined, and yet Crumb identifies with the latter instead of the former. Going so far as to criticize Johnny Ryan for his content. Which always seemed odd from a man who started out drawing a mixture of racist and perverted comics meant to offend squares in San Francisco.