Sunday, December 23, 2007

Thoughts on Comic Retail Format

This is basically a sketch for a later post-- in the midst of gathering information.

My main gripe with comics in the U.S. was the lack of a range of the types of stories that were being told. With few exceptions, we've had about 50 years straight of super hero books and humor books. R. Crumb and the 'comix' artists of the 60s and 70s did their own thing and established a far-out alternative, and this was a welcome change that led many creators to tread a different path. Also notable were the works of the artist's involved with Marvel's Epic Comics and several other sci-fi/fantasy anthologies. The market however, didn't appreciate these books for the most part, judging by sales figures. At about 12, I discovered Japanese manga, and with it a world of different genres within the comic format. It's important not to confuse 'manga' with the Japanese comics 'style'. Manga simply means "aimless drawing"-- something equivalent to sketch or doodle, and in recent times, the word "komikku" (comics) has been introduced as a catch-all for comicbooks worldwide. So, without considering the visual style, which is often wrongly stereotyped into a single "big eyes, speed-lines and tear drops" aesthetic, due to the limited range of the type of manga that actually makes overseas, the strength of manga for a comics artist is the freedom to explore a wider spectrum of subject matter.

It's interesting to compare the birth of comics in the U.S. versus that of Japan. The U.S. experienced a surge in super-hero comics during the war years, where these powerful beings epitomized the new American, one on the rise as a world power. Conversely, Japan's comics market was one born out of humility, becoming popular as escapist fare in the wake of nuclear destruction and a jarring defeat; essentially in reaction to being wiped out of contention as a world power. I won't get into this thoroughly, because most books on manga do a better job, but a comparison of Disney and Japan's father of comics and animation, Tezuka Osamu, already draws a distinction between the direction of the two comics/animation formats-- while Disney briefly dabbled in more adult fare, he eventually settled with children's and family content, while Tezuka freely explored children's, adult, and everything in between, paving the way for the future.

I'm not at all sure why comics developed into the current single-issue standalone format here in the States, but the retail format itself is something that I've realized recently is perhaps the largest contributing reason that there is such a lack of variety within the medium. Picture this-- comics have, for as long as you can remember, been limited fairly exclusively to superhero stories, these are what sells, so the majority coming up in the field have loved the subject matter as children and learned from them as artists/writers/creators. So naturally, the genre is continued from generation to generation. There is the idea that books that differ in content will stand out from the rest, which is true, but the key here is that it is only true once you've opened the book. How are you to use the cover to grab the attention of the prospective reader when your quiet yarn about a WW II house-wife is up against 300 action books? It's possible, but it's tough. Action and boobs sell-- and this is just as true anywhere in the world. So why do Japan comics exercise such a wider array of subject matter?

The answer, as far as I am concerned, isn't something explained away as "a difference in cultural background"-- there's plenty of action and boobs in Japan comics too. A bigger element is the fact the comics in Japan are published in a format that enhances both the retail and, more importantly, the emotional and artistic experience. In Japan, comics are published weekly in comic digests. In other words you can go to the comic shop, and buy your favorite action comic digest, or drama, or fantasy, adult-- they even break it further into kids, womens, and teen varieties for many of the genres. What this means for the reader is that you get more bang for your buck and a higher emotional involvement, after all you get to be with your favorite characters every week, not every month. For creator's, this is huge because it starts to become like the music industry-- there's a few headlining comics, which capture the spirit of the particular digest, say, men's action, as well as the fan-base. Then there's a slew of other titles that round out the variety of the digest. This is great for artists with stories to tell that are off the beaten path, because they don't have to compete directly with the more established titles-- they actually benefit because of them, and in time, may become one of them. So the interest in a more niche-variety (think 'independent' here) of comic can grow in a very short span of time. Compare that directly with the American comic market, where growth in terms of subject matter was for the longest time coming at a snail's pace.

The good news is, that with the growing popularity of manga in the States, we are beginning to see light here. Good luck convincing the Big Two to change their ways anytime soon though, from their perspective they'd see the possibility of losing their foothold on the industry. Here's hoping.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Breccia; Alberto and Enrique


Hey-yo. I'm an aspiring comic artist, "classically" trained (I don't know that this term has even applied since the late 1600s, but anyway) in illustration at the university level, and am trying to learn the craft of the visual narrative by studying comic art at it's finest. I've been frustrated in the past as to how few resources there are for studying comics as an art form. There's the Kubert school, and one or two other programs in the U.S. and maybe a few classes here and there in some of the better design schools, but nothing that really gets the job done. Even in Japan, where the Manga (comics) field is one of the top entertainment mediums, most of the Manga university programs are simply added to the curriculum of top universities to draw in students. Esteemed Japanese illustrator and manga-ka, Hiroki Mafuyu, does teach a weekly seminar (as of a couple years ago) at some university, and judging by his work and lasting status as an illustrator there, I'm sure he's an excellent teacher. Even in Japan, the best way to learn is by an apprenticeship with a Manga artist rather than a university program. This kind of arrangement has no precedent as far as I'm aware in the U.S., but there isn't really the opportunity since American comic artists do not employ assistants to do things such as backgrounds, borders, and photo reference. In Japan, this is the only way an artist would meet weekly deadlines upwards of 15-20 pages, and sometimes many more.

My conclusion is that the only way I'm going to master the art-form is by getting heavy into it on my own, finding the masters of comics, and figuring it out from there. Fortunately, the graphic narrative as an art form isn't that old at all. Off the top of my head, starting with newspaper strips in the late 1800s, where nothing spectacular was done with it, then the emergence of the comic books somewhere in the first quarter of the 20th century. I'm going to ignore most of the mainstream U.S. comics from the Golden and Silver Age because in my opinion there's not a whole lot going on there that still stands out in retrospect. Neal Adams, Jack Kirby, Jim Steranko are the exceptions there for me, probably a few others. The big revolution for comics at that time wasn't spectacular merit from an artistic standpoint, but rather the notion that comics themselves were being published to a wide audience in the first place. Instead I'm going to focus on the independent books and lesser-known artists of the time period.

I'm going to start with perhaps the greatest comic book artist that nobody's ever heard of, at least in the United States, Alberto Breccia. Actually, some of these images may be his son Enrique's work since they shared the illustration duties for a 1969 graphic biography of Che Guevara-- but Enrique has recently been published in America, and while a great artist in his own right, his work doesn't match the visionary status of his father, who was truly pioneering the art form. I'm gonna post some pics and give a rundown as to why I find them so significant. I'll post the names of the comics these appeared in where I know them, but for the most part these were from foreign language sites and to be honest I wasn't about to keep track of all the titles. Image quality is an issue, but that's because of the fact that there are very few English language editions of the Breccia's work.


Terrible quality, but this is an example of Breccia's excellent storytelling. The page plays out like a movie. The first panel is just an emotional emphasis, with the subsequent images building the scene gradually. Breccia is clearly aware that comic books utilize a visual language that allows for a very emotional storytelling. I believe this is from the 1969 comic book biography of Che Guevara.



Fantastic impressionist comic book work. Also from Che. Photo-realistic figure in the first panel yields to some great distortions on the human figures. Looks to be scratch-board rather than black or white ink. Incredible, emotive linework.




A nice contrast of stylistic mix of the Che comic. This could be Alberto and/or his son Enrique. Great stuff either way. Incredible draftsmanship on the photo-realistic panel.


When you can make repetition work, as a storytelling technique, you win. Far too much cloning in contemporary comics out of sheer laziness. Advance the story.


Great use of pattern and spot blacks. I can see this influence in Jim Steranko, not sure if he was knew Breccia's work though. I believe this is Enrique.

Jim Steranko? Case in point.

Circa 1962. Incredible when compared to what the rest of the world was up to at this time.

These I believe are from some comic adaptations of Edgar Allen Poe. Could be mistaken. Frank Miller?


Er... Frank Miller. I've read that Frank has acknowledged Breccia as an influence and it shows.

Full page layout from what I believe is the same Poe story. Masterful flow and layout. With all the detail of a Dore illustration.


At this point Breccia is experimenting with cut paper and collage. Kirby did some of this but never to my knowledge to such an extent. Reminds me of the opening to Johnny Quest for some reason. Interesting use of a 'screen tone' effect.

Wonderful skull study.

The contrast here between high detail and graphic, symbolic form is very effective. Outside of the context of the comic page, this becomes a strange visual read, but absolutely unique and effective.

The fact that this reads so clearly at a glance is a testament to Breccia's skill as an illustrator. Take a look of the hodge-podge of smaller elements and techniques that make up the big picture.



Photo-montage? Glorious distorted perspective versus the bare minimum cut and paste.




Really interesting to see the cut paper collage in the context of an entire page layout.


So there you have it. The Breccia's were a big hit with those in the comics industry, and surely influenced a lot of the great artists of the 70s and 80s, but you've got to really dig to find copies of their work. It's worth it though. A major conclusion I've drawn since compiling this is that when color is not in mind when the artist adds ink to the page, it can be detrimental to the work. Everything here is black and white, but it screams of the detail and vibrancy of a color work. In fact, there's an electricity that you can't with color. A lot of mainstream comics suffer from poor planning when it comes to color usage since the inker doesn't always have the final color work in mind. This has thankfully improved a lot recently. Still there's a certain satisfaction that comes from strictly black and dub.

As an aside, the previously mentioned Che Guevara biography comic has probably the wildest story in comics. That book was actually banned shortly after its production and the original artwork was destroyed because of it's subversive politics. The writer of the work, author Hector Oesterheld, was kidnapped by the Argentine government and never seen again. There's a write-up here, scary stuff.