Funeral of the Heart
By Leah Hayes
Fantagraphics
Leah Hayes’s debut graphic novel, is a dark, strange, mesmerizing book. It tells five sad stories in black and white, with handwritten text and scratchboard illustrations that strike a balance between dramatic poignance and eeriness.
The collection is aptly titled, as it is a book in which three people die tragic deaths, one man is transformed from a loving person into a cold-hearted one, two women find their lives reduced to sleeplessness and general horror, and another woman turns out to be schizophrenic. Each of the book’s five stories effects a small death of the heart, be it that of a character or the reader. And yet somehow Hayes manages to keep her book from plunging the reader into complete and utter depression.
Partly this is because the stories have an otherworldly quality, a fairy tale simplicity to the way they are told, which, though it makes for abnormally melancholy fairy tales, keeps them in the realm of the fantastic. Hayes is as skilled with words as she is with her scratchboard, narrating with direct language and a decisive tone of near-childlike simplicity: as if she is saying, ‘you may think these things I’m telling you are strange, but this is just how it is.’ The structure of each story is akin to that of a morality tale, and this, combined with eccentric plot lines based on largely unreal circumstances—like the birth of twin girls who are connected by their hair—ensures that the stories do not feel real.
You’d be forgiven for initially writing off Umbrella Academy as something of a vanity project. After all, as the comics medium continues to prove itself an ample source of fodder for nearly every aspect of popular culture, from popcorn movies to fine art to literature, celebrities ranging from Michael Chabon to Jenna Jameson have begun happily attaching themselves to the form’s perpetual balancing act between the worlds of high and low art, with mixed amounts of success and legitimacy.
For those whose knowledge of Gerard Way begins and ends with the last half-dozen years spent as the frontman of the wildly successful pop-punk outfit, My Chemical Romance, the concept of the singer penning a mini-series for Dark Horse seems perhaps a little more than a method of killing time between the release of records. Such assumptions couldn’t be further from the truth, however. As the artist himself will readily attest, comics are Way’s first love. Years before the birth of MCR, he graduated from Manhattan’s School of Visual Arts in 1999, with BFA in comics studies, working his way up to an internship with DC Comics.
The release of his first Umbrella Academy mini-series for Dark Horse marks the fulfillment of a lifelong dream temporarily sidelined by a multi-platinum recording career. It also collects an intriguing and thoroughly entertaining debut from an artist weaned on the perpetualcosmicmindfuck of Grant Morrison’s seemingly tireless pen.
Amongst the droves of DC banners, giant Hulk statues, and throngs of attendees in masks and foam muscled suits at third annual New York Comic Con, David Lloyd makes it very clear to me that he’s had enough ot the superhero genre. The artist has done his time drawing characters like The Hulk and Captain America, but it was never those well-established and thoroughly merchandised characters that established Lloyd, but rather his work on cliché-defying works like V for Vendetta, the graphic novel he co-created with fellow superhero survivor, Alan Moore.
Like that title, the British artist’s latest work, Kickback, finds him toying with a genre’s tropes, only this time around he’s traded the world of capes and tights for the equally well-trodden land of crime genre. In this second and final part of our interview, we discuss film adaptations, the thematic importance of airships, and why embracing clichés can be a good thing.
[Part One]
Continue reading ‘Interview: David Lloyd Pt 2 [of 2]‘
Phase 7 #13 by Alec Longstreth
Phase 7 #13
by Alec Longstreth
Self-Published
There aren’t enough good things to say about Ignatz-winner Alec Longstreth and his comic series Phase 7. In some of the series’ latter issues, Longstreth writes about his personal history with comics and explains the story behind Phase 7. Arguably, his more personal stories have made those issues his best minis to date for the simple fact that people want to know more about how their favorite cartoonists operate.
It’s this personal touch that made Longstreth’s multi-authored mini The Dvorak Zine such a hit. When he draws himself looking right out at you from the page, concerned and familiar, it’s almost like a celebrity endorsement and suddenly you’re like, “Yah, Sally Struthers, I really do care about the hungry displaced African kids! I just needed reminding.” Or is it just impressionable little ol’ me? Well, personally I think Longstreth’s nonfiction comics make drab bits of information feel fresh and memorable.
Its with this same level of infectious enthusiasm that he approaches this latest issue of Phase 7. Even though this issue is just a recycled comic he wrote for a class back in college (more filler until he can finish Chapter 3 of “Basewood”), the topic is just as relevant today, because Issue #13 is all about art history! And when isn’t that worth knowing more about?
Interview: Mike Allred Pt. 2
While the recently released 852 page tome, Madman Gargantua is certainly an occasion to celebrate amongst Mike Allred’s many fans, it’s the new Image series, Madman Atomic Comics that presents some of the most exciting work from artist in recent years, finding Allred re-engaged with the beloved zombified titular quasi-hero, utilizing Frank Einstein as a springboard to explore exciting new territories in the outer reaches of the superhero comics universe.
In this second part of our discussion with the aritst, we discuss Allred’s love/hate relationship with the word of capes and tights, and how the death of a beloved blond leading lady lead him down the path to Madman.
We sat down with La Perdida artist, Jessica Abel, to talk about two forthcoming First Second releases, Life Sucks and Drawing Words & Writing Pictures. Thanks in large part to our extremely short attention span, this third and final installment almost immediately turns into a discussion about her now-infamous “Stinky Date” with Peter Bagge. Also: valuable career advice that may or may not have come from Daniel Clowes, Gary Groth’s short-term memory loss, and why there’s a good chance that Abel is not currently reading your diary strip.
A rich remembrance of Stumptown 2008 as presented by Shannon O’Leary.
Cross Hatch Dispatch 5/2/2008
[Above, a fresh batch mini-comics from the Lutefisk series. Below, the dispatch du jour.]
[Something that speaks both the French language and the language of Math. I am utterly lost to each.]
A well-liked man of many talents, Kevin Cannon will be the featured artist at this Friday’s Lutefisk Sushi Volume C release party. Much of his artwork will be on display, including comic pages from Far Arden as well as the kind of fancy pants paintings he went to school to learn how to make. I think we’ll all be dazzled.
Each Lutefisk Sushi box set contains 150 of Minnesota’s best mini comics packaged in a silk-screened box of Cannon’s design. You can buy one and sit around to read, or you can be cool and drink beers with me. There will also be artwork from other Minnesota cartoonists on display. Be there if you can, since this kind of thing doesn’t happen every day, you know? The event will run from 7-10 pm at Altered Esthetics in Minneapolis.
I’ve finally achieved one of my New Years resolutions: not being hung over on a Monday. While this meant I crammed a weekend’s worth of binge drinking into Friday night, it paid off, as I’m now in ship-shape and Bristol fashion, looking forward to a field trip to OK Comics in Leeds.
Due to a taste in attractive, but impractical kitchen fittings, and cats that insist on being fed, I’m a bit skint at the moment. This means I can afford neither a Leeds A-to-Z or the printer ink needed to print off from Google Maps. The thought of writing the directions down off of the Internet only occurs to me while waiting for my train. Why are the pretty ones always so dim? I’m now hoping for two things: a. that Leeds has tourist information with free maps and b. that my chosen Dictaphone has a good range on it as I forgot to pack my deodorant in my gym bag this morning.
My visit isn’t solely for The Hatch (my expenses account remains barren [god only knows where Oliver squandered his massive comics blogging paycheck-Ed.]), so I’m taking a batch of my own efforts over. I’m encouraged, having spoken to Jared, OK’s manager, on the phone that he said he takes 30-percent. This is the best I’ve heard of, with most other shops taking as much as 50-percent. The difference might not seem much, but any money earned can go back into making more comics, which is what we’re all here for.
On the train over I read an ‘hourly’ comic by Mark Ellerby, which is perfectly enjoyable for what it is. I think I’m softening my approach to autobiographical stuff as I near my 30th (three weeks, birthday card fans). Same goes for folk music. I’m just getting soft. Shit, maybe it’s the hangovers! No hangovers, no bite, no bile, no intolerance for anyone’s comics but mine. It’s like Samson and his magic hair!
Arriving at Leeds, I procure a free map, dodge the Scientologists on route, and in no time I’m stammering my way through my first interview. You think you don’t like the sound of your own voice. You know n,n,n,n,nothing.
