It’s been a while since I’ve posted something other than daily comics, so I decided to break that trend tonight.
The new year has brought me a few new cover-gigs with Prairie Dog and Planet S. Note Prairie Dog’s spiffy new website!
I enjoy doing this stuff because I don’t have a lot of time for my own comics at the moment. I’m still working a full-time job until I make my trek to the Center for Cartoon Studies this fall (Note CCS’s spiffy new website!).
These covers make me feel like I’m still active as an artist … or at least an illustrator.
The editor overlord asked me to draw a dissected heart with lots of cross-hatching reminiscent of the drawings Andreas Vesalius. But honestly, I wasn’t really listening after he said ‘lots of cross-hatching’. I don’t cross hatch as much as I used to, but I still really enjoy it when situations call for it.
No, that’s an understatement. I love cross-hatching. Cross hatching takes me back to my late teens when I was first exposed to Robert Crumb’s work. I have a lot of happy memories of drawing comics until four in the morning, trying to hatch like Crumb.
Anyway, Prairie Dog’s new graphic designer worked the image into the cover:
If you can guess to which species of animal it belongs, you will win … well, nothing. I don’t have anything you would want. But still, guess away!
The next cover was for International Women’s Day. Editor overlord wanted an image of Rosie the Riveter, updated for today, with doodle-art style tattoos that reference the 60s/70s feminist movement.
I’m not totally satisfied with the results, but it’s mostly due to small things like the figure’s line of action. The original image of Rosie the Riveter has a dynamic angle in her pose. I had to dampen it a bit so that the tiny men-relieved-by-feminism wouldn’t look cluttered. The finished product lacks some of the oomph of the original. Also, I didn’t really capture that defiant look in her eyes.
That’s all for this week. I’m going to be doing another Prairie Dog cover for next week … which may or may not be Hawksley Workman. We’ll see!
And if you’re really lucky (or rather, if I get off my ass, and onto an ass equipped with a computer), I’ll post my special Valentine’s Day comic that appeared in Prairie Dog.
Lovely to lovingly love your love…
CBC Saskatchewan will be featuring one of my daily comics on their site each week. The link is:
To celebrate, here are some doodles from meetings at work … my workplace is a pro-doodling kind of place!
The last time I was interviewed on the radio about comics, I was about 11 years old, talking about a superhero I created called The Animal, who had the powers of all animals … this was before I heard about Animal Man.
Long story short, they effing censored me! Animal Man’s arch nemesis was, of course, The Hunter! A deranged villain who killed people, and then wore their skin … this was before I heard about Silence of the Lambs.
Grade 6’s is the craziest people!
Anyway, after posting some old daily diary strips here a few days ago, a friend at CBC Saskatchewan contacted me to see if I’d be interested in discussing this exercise on the air. You can listen to the interview below, for a limited time. I’m not sure if CBC keeps permanent links to their interviews … still searching for a podcast option.
They plan on posting one of my strips every week, so I’ll provide links when that happens.
And of course, I’ll soon begin posting my daily diary strips here!
The last post was getting a little long, and I was getting a little sleepy … so over a week later, I’m here to complete that thought.
Four Tall Tales: A Graphic History of the RPL was a very fun project, but even the most enjoyable projects aren’t without their controversies. Behold, as I reveal a potentially morally reprehensible image!
Pretty innocent, right? Well, sure. Except for the fact that this was the original panel:
Yeah. Someone at the library felt that a dog licking its crotch would offend some readers. I had some kind of lengthy, and possibly pretentious, statement about the dichotomy of high art vs. low art … but in the end it seemed like a petty point to argue. I felt bad for the curators at the Dunlop because they were very supportive and tried to offer me some ‘outs’ (i.e.: maybe the dog is just hiding his face?).
Still, an artist friend of mine found the whole controversy hilarious. If memory serves me, he said something like, “Who’s going to be offended by something you can see on the street, legally?!”
Oh well. If I ever become a famous artist, people will be begging me to make dogs lick their crotches. That’ll learn ‘em.
To close, here are a couple more pages from the comic. The story itself ended up tying together a number of moments in Regina’s history through a Wizard of Oz framework. I used to hate drawing buildings, but working on this comic made me love buildings … especially when I realized how many beautiful buildings Regina used to have before they started knocking them down in the name of progress. But that’s another post.
Four Tall Tales is available at the Dunlop Art Gallery in Regina for $15.
In the last year, the MacKenzie Art Gallery has asked me to produce a couple of comics for their newsletter, At the MacKenzie.
The first released in conjunction with an exhibition of Ted Godwin’s paintings from “the Regina Five Years”.
For those unfamiliar with this piece of history, the Regina Five were a group of painters from Regina (or at least working in Regina) who exhibited their abstract paintings at the National Gallery of Canada in 1961. For a brief, shining moment people from places other than Regina had heard of Regina. It’s a moment in the city’s history that is consistently, if not constantly, recalled (for good or ill).
Still, 1960s Regina sounds like it was an interesting time. I tried (and apparently failed) to make a comic that contrasted Godwin’s recollections of this past, with moments from my experiences in current-day Regina. The idea was that the panels would be arranged in a tartan pattern (Godwin became known for his tartan paintings).
I say “apparently failed” because the strip garnered nothing but criticism … mainly from those referenced in it. Godwin was none too pleased with it, claiming that I should have drawn him smoking and drinking (he was known for his alcoholism at the time). The architect Clifford Wiens also emailed me, trying to understand why I said that he said something that he said he never said (of course, the quotes all came from interviews with Godwin interviews in Mark Wihak’s documentary A World Away: Stories from the Regina Five). Also, Wiens didn’t get the comic. Didn’t like it.
So, lesson learned. Don’t make comics about people who are still alive.
Despite this, the MacKenzie commissioned me to do another comic in conjunction with the current exhibition, My Evil Twin. Because there are numerous contemporary artists included in the show, the concept for the comic could afford to be a little more open-ended.
I’m much happier with how this comic turned out (other than the annoying ink bleeding. Damn Stonehenge paper!) Ideally, this comic would be read in its printed form and would encourage the viewer to decipher it in the candle-lit bathroom mirror.
Sneaky!
Tonight is the opening of Mind the Gap! at the Dunlop Art Gallery. This exhibition featuring 29 Saskatchewan artists, including an eight-page comic I made titled Gregarious.
You can read about the show here.
I am told that the launch of Four Tall Tales: A Graphic History of the Regina Public Library will coincide with tonight’s celebrations. The RPL commissioned me and three other artists (including my brother Jonah) to create ten-page comics celebrating the moments in the library’s history. This was done to celebrate the RPL’s centennial.
So much comics goodness!
Below is a little preview of Gregarious. I hope to see you at the opening!
Touring Saskatchewan
The last four days has felt more like four weeks.
I’m currently touring Saskatchewan with a troupe of artists, delivering workshops to elementary and high school students. It’s tiring work. Sometimes it’s tiring because of the early mornings, constant high-energy, and long evenings driving. Other times it’s tiring because I’m trying to play basic theatre games with a group of extremely energetic grade 2s.
But work aside, the landscape is steadily commanding my attention. Until I few days ago, the northernmost Saskatchewan community I had visited was Prince Albert. I’ve now been as far as Buffalo Narrows, and although it’s not as north as, say, Uranium City … it’s still pretty damn north.
View Larger Map
I’ve never felt such a sense of wild isolation. We missed a turn on the way to Ile-a-la-Crosse one night, and the wild, teeth-grinding, fist-clenching panic that overcame my body came as a surprise to me. The sight of headlights in the rearview mirror should have filled me with the comfort that we weren’t alone, but instead it only gave me a deep sense of dread. Like I had been caught. I drove virtually blind along the narrow, uneven road; my foot hovering over the brake just in case a deer jumped out of the darkness. There were no streetlights, only what was illuminated by the van’s headlights.
It’s easy to see where stories of shape shifters and tricksters originated, once one has driven lost down an empty, signless highway in northern Saskatchewan. A number of times I thought I saw the glowing eyes and hairy form of something on the roadside, or a large shadow figure running down the middle of the highway. Occasionally trees and bushes would appear to ‘pop in’ like polygons in a video game. Probably just tired eyes, and riled nerves.
In the daylight, the landscape is a different, thought perhaps no less terrifying and amazing. Psychological vertigo from a seemingly endless forest.