Not being the biggest expert on the subject of Megan Rose Gedris, I am only dimly aware at best that she’s produced many comics. Of course, the only one of those that I can recall instantly is I Was Kidnapped By Lesbian Pirates From Outer Space!!!, a satirical comic which borrows just as heavily from old pulp sci-fi stories as it does from manga.

I’m fond of this comic. At first I was like (:^T) but then I was like (:^D)

So go in:

Here we go again!

By now, you have all heard the excellent news that Brandon Graham, Simon Roy, Joe Keatinge and Ross Campbell are among the writers and artists helping to relaunch Rob Liefeld’s Extreme Studios comics in 2012. Posted here is the sampler issue presented at the Image Comics booth during New York Comic Con. I know that I’m going to pick up Prophet and Glory for sure!

My favorite part of the sampler is in Prophet where the character lays out his belongings so that we can see precisely what tools he’s got at his disposal. No unforeseen from-behind-the-back secret tools in this one! The cataloging of characters’ current possessions is a tried and true Brandon Graham storytelling scenario, that many of you will remember from the pages of his solo series King City.

Welcome back, team. We’re going to look at another small mainstream comic book today, the first issue of Miranda Mercury (numbered at #295, to indicate that this story begins in the midst of action).

The concept of this space-adventure is fairly simple. We begin at the apparent end of the heroine’s life as she undertakes an impossible feat in a career apparently filled with impossible feats. Apart from the futuristic set dressing, this issue’s story is basically classic mythology, but go ahead and read up now:

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Scott Wegener, the artist of Atomic Robo is a friend of mine. It’s always interesting to listen to him talk because I don’t very often get to hang out with people who draw regular mainstream-ish comic books. His perspective on a lot of comic things that indie comic folks take for granted is totally different.

Well, don’t just sit there; scroll back up and read the first issue of Atomic Robo!

A lot of times I draw comics that don’t go anywhere. This was one of those comics. Thank you very much. Your mother.

This one’s from 2009, I was moving toward doing something but…I don’t remember what I was trying to do. Gosh, I love comics! :3

xoxoxo

Do remember: House of Twelve Monthly is available at ComiXology for your reading pleasure. The first issue is free so go get it!

-Ayo2011.

I drew this comic a long time ago. It says “Decision ‘08,” because that was an election year. And also, this was that long ago.

[Press (A) To Talk] brand comics didn’t go very far with me, but that’s okay. I had fun making them.

xoxoxo

-Ayo2011.

When Graphic.ly first came out with their super-social, YouTube-esque comic service, I was highly skeptical. As a heavy mobile user, the first thing I noticed is that their mobile app has some speed issues, even inside of a strong signal WiFi environment (I was at the library at the time). That said, examining the web application’s function, I have to admit that I’m fairly impressed by what I see.

Just like YouTube video clips, anybody can capture the HTML code for Graphic.ly comics and post them around the web on blogs. This makes it so much easier to proliferate digital comics whether on blogs like this, or on social networks like Facebook and Google Plus. I lean heavily on social networks and having the ability to not just tell, but actually show people what comics I am looking at is an exciting prospect for me.

Unfortunately, I’m still struggling with Graphic.ly’s overall functionality in some ways, but I hope that the service is merely experiencing growing pains.

In 2010, a book called Black Comix: African American Independent Comics Art and Culture was published by Mark Batty Publisher and directed by Damien Duffy and John Jennings. I’m a contributor, you can see excerpts of my webcomic Little Garden Comics “Beautiful Monster” on pages 36 and 37. Today I am more concerned with pages 106 and 107, which contains an essay written by a Mr. Turtel Onli, who founded the Black Age of Comics Convention in Chicago in 1993. He puts forth that this is a “Black Age” of comics (as in: Golden Age, Silver Age, Bronze Age). Seeing more and more black professionals working in the field Onli decides that the “Black Age” is upon us. Nevermind that the other comic “ages” don’t refer to single demographic trends, but overall industry trends. Onli’s essay contains the usual rah-rah hollow talk that is common among people who suppose themselves as leaders of a community. What really hit me between the eyes is the following passage:

Some refuse to even acknowledge that there is a movement at all. Some say the idea of a distinct black movement in comics hurts them. They maintain the egotistical stance that their work is beyond categorization, yet they still lament racial tensions or the isolation they feel working in settings with few blacks. They will still lament the sting of being unknown to other blacks for the amazing work they create.”

“Egotistical?”

Let me explain this, let me talk about this, let me drop the science: this Onli guy never did anything for me, never gave me work, never created a career opportunity for me, but still–without even knowing that I exist–claims me as a part of his movement (whether I like it or not) and puts ME down if I disbelieve that the sort of nonsense that his ilk (”black leaders…if you have to ask: long story) spout. That a guy can make up a phrase, run a convention in 1993 and then extend his arms, claiming ownership of every dark skinned person to come into comics for all time is the height of arrogance.

Due to the context of this essay within this book, we have an unforgivable insult in which the artists contained within (such as me) come across looking like followers of a guy (Onli) who probably never had any interaction with them. Stereotype goes that blacks often lack father figures. So there’s no shortage in the black community of people who rise to power by trying to assume paternal roles. No thanks, my dad’s name is John Edward Brathwaite.

I’ve attended the East Coast iteration of Onli’s convention once. Nobody in attendance even knew what a minicomic was. I was more isolated and shunned at the Black Age of Comics Convention than I had ever been at a traditional independent comics show. And that’s saying a lot, to be completely frank. Pay attention: sharing superficial physical characteristics with people, sharing a continental ancestry with people, sharing a gender with people DOESN’T AUTOMATICALLY MAKE THOSE PEOPLE YOUR FRIENDS.

So Womanthology:

Womanthology started out a lot like Black Comix did. A minority-interest showcase book created with the goal to raise awareness in the comics industry for the work of members of that minority. Neither Womanthology or Black Comix paid any of the contributors for their submissions, despite having lavish production values. The difference, in my view, is that there are a lot more women who are deeply involved in comics than there are African Americans of either gender. Womanthology was crowd-funded, Black Comix wasn’t. So when the staggering amount of money behind Womanthology, coupled with the understanding that none of it would go to the contributors became apparent, a small murmur of discontent rose to a roar.

But that is only criticism. Everyone involved in Womanthology, the editor and the contributors entered into the project with the best of intentions. I think the discontent is a result of expectations for funding being exceeded by such a wide margin (Womanthology received FOUR TIMES the requested funds), a changing the expectations for compensation.

On my side of things, when I was involved with Black Comix, I didn’t think much of it until I saw the lavish production values of the final product. I was flabbergasted, jaw agape like a cartoon character. My first thought was “if I had known that they were going to go all out on the production values, I wouldn’t have contributed!” The reason that I felt that is that I was under the impression that I was giving my art to a small, modest niche project that would add my voice to something that (a) was nominally about a group that I belong to (black cartoonists) and (b) probably could use all of the voices that it could get. I was mistaken in my understanding of the scope of the project and I felt put off that some of that budget couldn’t have offered the contributors even a tiny bit of financial compensation for their work which, frankly is the basis for the book.

It is the same story with Womanthology today. Cartoonists have contributed their efforts to a project believing that it needed all of the voices that it could get. But then when the amount of money behind the project became apparent, they suddenly found themselves wondering why NONE of it was being offered to them for compensation. Changing scope leads to changing expectations.

This morning, I woke up to a counter-discussion on twitter led by DCWomenKickingAss (Sue, last name unknown) and 79SemiFinalist (Kelly Thompson), which was highly critical of the women who have been speaking out over the past few days against Womanthology. Particularly, they both claimed that it was inappropriate for these people to discuss on Twitter and Tumblr the problems that they had. Unfortunately (and please believe me, I respect Thompson and Sue GREATLY) these very same two have never ever been shy of publicly criticizing institutions (such as DC Comics) on Tumblr and Twitter. It seems that when the target of criticism is an institution that they support, their expectations for public discourse changed. Sue, with her DC Women Kicking Ass has specifically given many people an understanding of how to use public social media to air grievances that they may be too afraid to talk about privately.

Secret: many cartoonists–I would argue that MOST cartoonists–are timid of authority. Cartoonists are typically one of the most under-appreciated groups of professional artists out there. The comics industry is very VERY small and cartoonists are often afraid to “make waves.” When a cartoonist stands up and makes waves, she (or he) often faces harsh criticism, condemnation, threats, intimidation and social and professional ostracization. There is a reason why people are discussing these in public places. Because if a cartoonist is going to be disgruntled about a contract that she  signed, she’d better make sure that she can at the least be a lightning rod for anybody who might agree with her. She had better make sure that anybody else who shares her point of view can see her and possibly be encouraged to stand with her.

It broke my heart a little bit to see Sue and Kelly Thompson (who I am still a fan of and who I still rely on for opinions, views and perspective) condemning much of the discussion against Womanthology. Womanthology is supposed to support women cartoonists. Women cartoonists have an issue with Womanthology. Even though Sue and Thompson don’t agree with the way in which the discussion is led, how can they condemn women standing up for themselves and loudly making a fuss about what concerns them? This is largely people following their own example.

And I’m very sorry to Kelly Thompson and Sue. Again, I greatly respect your work in comics commentary, but I don’t think that you’re completely correct in this particular aspect. Cartoonists need to stand up and be MORE outspoken, MORE critical of those that come to them as friends. Cartoonists, particularly minority groups who feel disenfranchised need to put their feet down and learn to not be  as timid as they typically are. Comics is a heartbreaking business and the killing blow is often delivered with the best intentions by a friend, rather than a hand-rubbing villain. Everybody is following your example. Just hear out their criticism and try to see where they’re coming from.

Thanks for listening.

For those of you just joining us (in Western Civilization), there has been a past of some level of acrimony between white European-descended people and black African-descended people. Rumor has it that this hostility continues to this very day. The above panel is from a well-regarded comic called The Adventures of Tintin in which we see the title character being carried about by crudely-drawn black Africans. Today, such images are generally frowned upon and not encouraged.

This man is not amused by what he sees in that comic book. Can you blame him? The Africans in Tintin in the Congo, along with several other of the books in the series are depicted as barely sentient slabs of black ink with few individual characteristics and little sense of humanness. The depictions are harmful both in the visual sense of how Africans are drawn and how they are written. In Tintin and many other early comic books, black persons lack personhood on the page and that ties directly into the extreme degree to which blacks had been pushed out of society and treated as “there-but-not-there” by the white mainstream of society.

In later years, we would see a retreat from such imagery in mainstream comic books, but there was a cost. After some point in history, comic publishers began to feel it not wise or politically inopportune to allow such images in their products. What ended up happening, however, is that black characters largely vanished from many comic books.

And eventually they returned, drawn more naturally, and even starring in their own adventures here and there. But what I find particularly interesting is the way black characters fell from being marginalized figures in society to non-existent for a period in time. And to be sure, to this day, black characters, major or minor, are fairly rare in Western comic books, given the relative population; particularly since many Western comics are set in cities–where blacks tend to live.

I was reading through some old racist comics (because I like old racist comics) and suddenly I felt a burst of lightning; at one point in time, black people were acknowledged in Western comics, followed by a period in which they weren’t. Granted, the portrayal of African people was usually condescending to say the very least–but it was an acknowledgement. There was an awareness of different people, persons different from the white authors and their intended audience. There was a very crude attempt at indicating that Western society is comprised of various cultures. Subcultures that operate within as well as without the white base of power.

And this is where I get into trouble:

I actually like some elements of the racist depiction of black figures in old comics. It first happened to me years ago, I believe in 2003 when I was reading Jim Woodring’s The Frank Book featuring his strange fantasy monsters. Here’s an example of Woodring’s designs:

I kept feeling uncomfortable when I saw Pupshaw and Pushpaw in the pages of Frank due to their graphic similarity to old racist comic strips. Woodring’s iconography is borne of the early Twentieth Century cartooning style. Then it hit me all at once: this is good design. Damn good design!

These are my sketches. I’ve been toying with this idea mentally and decided to lay it out on paper to see how it works in reality. The idea that I came across as I went through Woodring’s work is that the images derived from old comics are very graphically powerful–but not for their political and social implications alone. These images are powerful because they use strong, solid and bold black shapes, detailed with white slivers cutting the ink into recognizable planes. It doesn’t reflect the reality of having dark skin, but it makes a figure stand out and be bold against any graphic background.

In Woodring’s work, this graphic power is harnessed and allowed to run free because it’s used on characters that don’t even approach being human. It’s removed enough from the original context to avoid being hurtful to people. But what if I wanted to bring this graphic approach full circle? What if I wanted to bring it all the way back around to being about humans again. And what if I wanted to take the concept further and use it to show dark skinned humans not as creatures, but as beautiful, stark and striking figures on their our own? WHAT IF I WANTED TO DO THAT?

I’m a blacksmith.

Something that Liz Baillie told me about the type of dude who sees you drawing in your sketchbook in public and asks if you’re an artist. She said she wanted to tell those dudes “No, I’m a fucking BLACKSMITH!”

King City versus Kick-Ass.

In the pages above, both the King City and the Kick-Ass scenes begin with a primary character walking past some parked cars. I don’t know what exactly it was about that visual that appealed to me so strongly but both pages left a powerful impression on my memory. In the case of Kick-Ass, I actually recalled the scene more vividly and with more detail than actually exists in the page. Going to go walk past some parked cars now and have a psychic experience.

Setting the scene.

Art teachers make a big deal in instructing their students to draw from natural life to learn the fundamentals of the human figure before allowing stylization or cultural conventions to dictate the way they draw. In other words, the student should draw from live models, not from comic books. The teachers also instruct their students to draw real environmental settings and settings. However in my experience, they pursue this point with far less specificity. In fact, where we can see endless days of nude figure drawing for the art student, when it comes to inanimate physical settings, teachers focus a lot on mathematical perspective.

Don’t get me wrong; this is a good thing because it instructs students to see the underlying mathematic principles that are integral to reality as well as encouraging the student to draw from Informed Imagination. But I have to be honest, I think–and maybe this was just my school experience–that the life-drawing of physical settings got short shrift.

Fundamentally, I feel that humans are more comfortable with humans. I’ve noticed that many people can’t muster the same fervor for environmental settings that surround, nurture and inform the characters that they have for the characters themselves. Or in simpler sentence structure, people can’t stop ignoring the backgrounds.

When it comes to me, I’ve let my environments slide to the wayside. Back in my Little Garden days, I would spend as much of my drawing energy and my emotional and psychological energy devoted to drawing the grass and the trees and the rivers as I spent drawing the humanoid monsters that populated my imaginary forest. There wasn’t a sense of separation of figure and ground in my work then. When I started moving toward conventional comics storytelling, this sense of harmony with the world was one of the first things that disappeared. So I’m trying to get it back.

This doesn’t have to be attached to the idea of natural mathematical perspective, by the way. Look at the work of John Porcellino, Julie Doucet, Megan Kelso, Chris Ware and the like. These artists use any range of technique from flat-layer-overlap to isometric perspective to pull their character’s worlds into view. What I’m talking about isn’t necessarily a demand to dig up the rulers and protractors, but a plea to artists out there to join me in remembering to give as much attention to the settings  as we do to our living characters.

Artwork (c) Marvel Entertainment, DC Comics, Wildstorm Entertainment, Brandon Graham, Pete Lazarski, Mark Millar + John Romita Jr, Mike Mignola, Sarah Oleksyk, Greg Rucka + Matthew Southworth, Steve Engleheart, Zan Czyzewski, Rachel Edidin + Jen Vaughn, BT Livermore, StudioCanal S.A., Brian Wood, Bill Willingham, Gabby Schulz (aka, Ken Dahl–who I saw at the coffeehouse today) and me: Darryl Ayo Brathwaite.

@darrylayo