Showing posts with label francoise mouly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label francoise mouly. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

justin thinking about justin

A friend who's going through some of her old stuff just sent me a photo of this Valentine's Day card I made for her maybe 15 years ago.


I'm fairly certain that's Justin Timberlake thinking about Justin Timberlake and make no mistake: when I made this thing, I was a grown-ass adult. It sort of feels like this image should be my About Me section for everything from now on, or possibly my business card.

Justin thinking about Justin is obviously a very powerful work, but I'm not sure that even it can make up for my pathetic selection for Book of the Week. (If you're new to this, I'm reading one not-for-work book every week, then gloating about it here.) And, okay, a busy week capped off by a visit from some old friends has resulted in my really phoning it in on this one. I mean, this is some seriously shameful shit: Food Rules by Michael Pollan.

First and foremost, despite the fact that I'm a relatively nonviolent feeble person, Michael Pollan fully lived up to my expectation of coming across as someone I really want to punch. I'd been vaguely thinking about reading one of his other books for various dumb reasons (it was free, and I've been reading stuff like it because I've had a whole boring health thing), but then I saw this after I'd already more or less given up on reading anything this week (which would have been most unwise, as it would've inevitably lead to me dumping my book pledge). At 140 pages, why not? As it turns out this book is much shorter than that, even. Really it's more like a long brochure, if brochures had no information in them whatsoever.

My favorite of Pollan's stupid food rules was definitely "Don't eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn't recognize as food." My own great-grandmother famously ate Vick's Vaporub every night before bed for "health reasons," so if you imagine for one second that crazy old bitch wouldn't recognize Pizza flavor Combos as a foodstuff, think again Pollan. This whole romanticized notion of women in the olden days is actually a big theme in the book and guess what, I hate it. There's this one part at the beginning where he talks about having consulted with lots of doctors and scientists and mothers and grandmothers. A million years ago, I saw a tweet from a guy who was re-watching Waiting for Guffman and he was like "hmm, this seems really homophobic to me. Is this what it means to be radicalized?" And first of all, yes, that sounds about right (the radicalized part), but second of all I often ask a similar question of myself when I'm pondering the way some book or comic talks about women. Like, was Pollan really setting up a dichotomy there between doctors & scientists vs. mothers & grandmothers, or is that just my own shit? Who cares, he sucks. I'm going to do better next week.

Here are some other random things that caught my eye:

"Bustle and the Industrialization of Confession" (Gawker)
This piece is about a year old, but it was vaguely alluded to in this (bad) blog post by Sam Kriss. I'm really interested in the way people talk about the so-called industry of confession. And despite knowing something about that subject, I somehow missed that this was a thing:


Turns out the site that Kriss is talking about here is Bustle, by the way, which makes perfect sense. I'm not sure if this is still their practice, but as recently as a year ago they were asking their freelancers to tell them about abortions, drug addictions, sexual experiences, etc. At Gawker, Rich Juzwiak had some smart things to say about that:


I can hardly bring myself to believe that survey is real. I have mixed feelings about "write what you know" with regard to identity politics. Sometimes it's pretty obviously true, and sometimes less so. But asking women to disclose rapes and abortions and threesomes or whatever in their welcome packet? Jesus.

That blog from Kriss is the most pretentious thing I've read in a while. My feeling is that if you're going to be really pretentious you've got to show me the money. The money is...not this:


This is a very common distinction that people make, the "true" self vs. the online self, and what I object to isn't the possibility that we each are more or less a collection of identities, but in the primacy and integrity of some pristine true secret self that lives above it all. Different people and different places bring out different facets of identity, and if you don't get that right out of the gate I have zero interest in your opinions on identity. Zero.

"The Year's Best Weird Internet Video Gets Its Viral Payoff" (Gawker)
Speaking of old Gawker... I was sitting around the other night thinking about Videogum, as is my wont, when I remembered this old video I'm obsessed with:



Videogum archives are impossible to search so I googled some iteration of "sword children dancing" and found this explainer on what was up with these people, anyway. In some ways it's exactly what you'd expect...you don't need real powers of deduction to recognize that the video is neither 100 percent "authentic" (due to blatant art kid stuff) or "fake" (because of the girl's obvious expertise in whatever it is she's doing). Still, I never quite imagined this scenario (this is the guy talking):


And that, children, is where viral videos come from.

"Different Women's March, Same Message" (NYT)
Oh look, Missoni did a pussy hat.


"The pussy hat arrived on the runway," writes some lady at the New York Times:
The designer Angela Missoni and the rest of the extended Missoni clan, including her mother, Rosita, crowded onto the runway in their hats and urged everyone, along with all their models, to join them to “show the world the fashion community is united and fearless.” In the background, “Power to the People” played.
God, just kill me.

"The Latest Lesson in My Five-Year Journey toward Figuring Out that Françoise Mouly Possibly Sucks"
Not sure if I'll be doing any comics links this week, so allow me to direct your attention to the most recent cover of the New Yorker, which is about representation:


It's titled #OscarsNotSoWhite." Oh, and here's the guy who made it:


Remember when I said there are some cases where identity politics obviously matter when it comes to choosing which creator you publish? Well, this is that.

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Monday, December 5, 2016

mostly comics links, such as they are

1. Art comix elite respond to world crisis: "Yes, let's curate another 'uncensored' trash blog"
Whenever the world is in trouble, it's good to know we can count on the pioneers of art comics to cobble together another half-assed trash blog to "fight censorship." This particular trash blog--Resist!, which will also be printed as a newspaper--is brought to you by a Comics Family unrivaled in its sheer quantity of trash opinions over the last year or so: the Mouly-Spiegelmans.

 If you like this, you'll LOVE artist Jim Agpalza's portfolio of terrible genitalia art.

Yes, mother-daughter team Françoise Mouly and Nadja Spiegelman evidently read a University of Phoenix-grade women's studies syllabus somewhere and now they have some opinions on which they hope to incite a revolution...by not paying mostly female cartoonists to draw bad political cartoons for their shitty tumblr? Cool. Good luck with that, ladies. I see that Roz Chast has already contributed a totally uninteresting drawing of Trump rendered on a scrap piece of computer paper. V. exciting. No doubt art comix fans everywhere are praying that Art Spiegelman will draw a trash cover for the New Yorker and complete this circle. Then with all the money he makes off it Mouly can continue not funding like a million more trash blogs to fight the power. Vive la resistance.


Let me be perfectly clear: the Resist! tumblr is trash (mostly just straight-up bad more than offensive, but whatever), the artwork in that particular post is trash, Francoise Mouly and Nadja Spiegelman's joint response to the people who called it trash is TRASH, their fake fucking "feminism" as expressed therein is trash, and anyone who is promoting this blog is trash by association. Mouly and Spiegelman's egregious misunderstanding of their curatorial function as editors in this trash world has absolutely nothing to do with "censorship." Best we get these terms straight here on the brink of what's to come.

Pull yourselves together, Spiegelmans. I continue to believe you're smart people, but this is getting ridiculous.

2. Political spew: special comics edition
With full knowledge that this tidbit is destined to be misconstrued as "lol, this liberal wants a white power Pepe": I've been thinking a lot about satire lately, particularly the parallels between the anti-PC conversations we've seen in alt comix over the last few years and the alt-right's "ironic" Heil Hitlers, etc.

Did you read that insane profile of Steve Bannon last week? It's bananas--possibly the craziest thing I've ever read in my entire life, even now that everything's crazy. Here's the part I keep thinking about:

Like...it's bad enough that Bannon believes in the genetic superiority of white people (I already knew that, though) and that only white property owners should vote (knew that too, more or less), but since when does that constitute an "irreverent streak"??

Irreverent streak. Irreverent. Streak. Mr. Bannon and Mr. Brietbart share "a common irreverent streak." An irreverent streak that consists of an unhinged belief in white supremacy and the notion that only property owners should vote--aka "populism" in the parlance of our times, now that words have no meaning.

Predictably (because I've been blathering on about this stupid thing, which is my personal Zapruder film, for more than two years now...I'm basically a half-step away from joining the Jesus guy with the megaphone outside of Old Navy to better preach my message about how Gary Groth came to earth to be a fucking asshole) I was reminded of Fantagraphics' folksy press release on Fukitor. Here is your weekly reminder of how that cutesy press release, which is titled "FU, Buddy!" reads in part:
What about work that doesn't quite fit into our standard business model? Work by relatively unknown cartoonists that's innovative, quirky, idiosyncratic, oddball, experimental, or downright crazy, work by established cartoonists that's simply off-kilter or too obscure to sustain a mass market release?
Why, you might even call Jason Karnes irreverent. I mean, what else would you call a guy who draws a bunch of ritualized gang rape and crazed Muslims being murdered? Or for that matter, the guy who publishes it?

Reality and especially language right now are slipping on a broad scale, and they're slipping in a way that they slipped in comics quite a long time ago. That's not unique to comics, exactly; you'll also see a similar sort of resonance in discussions about comedy, about pop culture, and from what I have come to think of as the Fake Left (people like deBoer and Chait who pin the ills of society on political correctness). But the alt-right's particular take on irony--eg, Richard Spencer saying that "Heil trump" was just a goof...well, that's some Groth-grade "satire" right there. At some point along the way, irony became plausible deniability. That's been happening for a while across the political spectrum--and it's now being exploited with real skill by these opportunistic shitlords.

In related news, I've been compiling my favorite descriptions of Bannon in a special file (Bannon burns.doc). It is literally the only good thing to have come out of this election. My favorites so far are "Robert Redford dredged from a river" and "sozzled nazi werewolf." Please submit your favorite Bannon burn in the comments. Originals are also welcome. This is all I have. Thank you.

3. Pepe the frog update: I was so right about that
So long as I'm complaining about Fantagraphics, I just want to take a quick moment to revel in how deeply right I was about that whole Pepe the Frog thing. (Claim victories in this life where you can.) I recently noticed a very good comment on an old post here that I missed till now due to what I will euphemistically call my email situation, which basically consists of me randomly choosing about half my emails to not read or respond to for a really long time, if ever. Email is my new voicemail, basically. My inbox is irreverent af.

Philippe Leblanc wrote:
In addition to your comment about Matt Furie and Pepe, I came across this interview on CBC’s As it happens between Carol Off and Matt Furie. I think one of the most surprising thing was how he was framing the Anti-Defamation League as his oppressor, not the alt-right. It was weird to hear him say that he feels he’s much more a victim of the ADL than the alt-right reappropriation of his cartoons. “They put on their lists and now I’m associated to racist cartoons” seems like a weird take on the situation.
http://www.cbc.ca/player/play/2695634079  
Thank you so much, Phillipe. I found this clip extremely affirming. Reader, if you're into me being right about something even a fraction as much as I am, I recommend you listen to that clip, which validates everything I had ever thought or felt about Matt Furie and his stupid piss frog. Sometimes when I have an opinion that's different from everyone else's I worry I'm just being uncharitable or something, but no--I was just super right about that. Oh hey btw Fanta, how's that #takebackpepe campaign going, anyway? jk, I don't have to look that up to know I predicted that right.

I'm sorry I'm so disgruntled now. It's hard for me too. :(

4. Your girl had a long talk with Nick Hanover about the comics writing landscape.
Speaking of disgruntled! Have you always wanted to read thousands and thousands of words about why I think fanboys did 9/11? Great news, all your dreams are coming true. Inspired by an Epic Bummer Post by Abhay Khosla, Nick wanted to do a back-and-forth about some of the stuff that we find frustrating in comics reading and writing and shit-talking. Spoiler alert: it's absolutely everything. Click on over to Loser City. ----->

5. 2dCloud Kickstarter
2dCloud is very good and their seasonal Kickstarter is also good. It's good to have good things. Let's not fuck this up.

From Perfect Hair by Tommi Parish

6. Not Even Comics
For your consideration, in preparation for a movie post I hope to get around to writing soon:



The movie this is from is still playing in some cities, I think? For whatever reason it was here for just one night but maybe other places are showing it in a more normal convenient way? My parting advice to you is catch it if you can.

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

obstacles to critiquing chris ware's shitty political new yorker covers

I. For this post to be of any interest to you, you’re going to have to clear the first and foremost obstacle to critiquing Chris Ware’s shitty political New Yorker covers, which is: who cares? And what exactly do you expect from a New Yorker cover, anyway? For me, the answers to those questions (apart from a baseline of constantly caring about dumb unimportant things) are that the person who edits them, Francoise Mouly, is an interesting person whose work is worth watching and also that, at their best, New Yorker covers can be totally great. Maria Kalman and Ivan Brunetti covers, for instance? Totally, totally great.

II. While I think it’s safe to label Chris Ware’s politically inclined covers, as a category, shitty--and keep in mind this isn’t about the covers that are more oriented towards formal concerns (i.e., comics-y instead of cartoon-y), which tend to be better--that category consists of many covers that tend to be shitty to different degrees, in different ways that overlap in different combinations. Here are just a few prominent categories in their purest forms with examples off the top of my head.

“Plain stupid”


These are the covers that are obvious, trite, and heavy handed (admittedly a large category).

“Fear of the computer”


I like to think that Ware refers to all technology as “the computer,” always with the article.

“Thinks it’s progressive but is dubious, regressive, and/or confused”


"This Mother’s Day, it’s all about the daddies."


This cover reminds me of when my mom asked me if “one of them always looks like the boy” (re: lesbian couples).


For more on this shitty cover see section VI (below).

Mapping these different forms of badness--which I’m inevitably asked to do when I make fun of Chris Ware’s New Yorker covers--is a somewhat involved process.

III. Yesterday I was making fun of his latest cover for the New Yorker, which happens every so often when I forget that’s not allowed. However casual the comment, however specific the critique, making fun of Chris Ware’s New Yorker covers is always interpreted as flagrant dismissal of Chris Ware’s entire long and storied career--the history of which will be explained to you if you even gesture to the blatant hack nature of these covers. These comments are inevitably perceived by white middle-aged Ware fanboys (cf. the Comics Journal) as a groundless assault on middle-aged white male humanity.

If you make fun of a bad Chris Ware cover, it doesn’t matter if you’ve written actual criticism about the Chris Ware work you like (Jimmy Corrigan or Building Stories, let’s just say)--you’re a hater now. And you know how it is with haters: they’re just like every girl who rejected you in high school they don’t know a goddamned thing about master cartoonists.

IV. Let’s talk more about Chris Ware’s whiteness (and maleness), which I was joking about, but also not joking about, yesterday (w/ regard to his latest shitty cover, which is about race). Maybe you noticed I did a similar thing in that crossed-out part in the paragraph above, which is very much a joke that’s also sort of kind of rooted in something true. When a man writes about comics stuff, he can do that: make a joke about something that he’s also not joking about. There are men in comics who are (rightfully) celebrated for doing that very well! Me, I get weird passive-aggressive (and sometimes aggressive-aggressive) comments about how no one gives a fuck what I think, rank amateur that I am, and whatever else you may think about that I can tell you it’s surely an obstacle to critiquing Chris Ware’s shitty political New Yorker covers, even in passing, because it’s really not worth watching myself get put down by a bunch of people who think that getting paid $50 by the Comics Journal for their opinions invests them with some sort of…what? Credibility? Moral authority? Expertise? I suppose if you’re the kind of fellow who believes that, like Samson and his hair, all your critical prowess emanates from your Game of Thrones tattoo, that’s the sort of argument that makes sense to you.

I mean, if anyone wants to discuss the whiteness of Chris Ware comics with me? Knock yourself out. Meanwhile I just watched a documentary that featured Chris Ware riding a tandem bicycle. I rest my fucking case.

V. Here’s the part that’s less of a joke: Chris Ware’s comics are about white misery, which people (including him, including me) tend to talk about in terms of universality. I don’t even mean this as a judgment of his work. The comics of his that I know at least--Jimmy Corrigan, Building Stories--are about miserable white protagonists who live in miserable, mostly white, worlds. That’s not my opinion; that’s the text. (And isn’t it also the text of Rusty Brown? I’m not a completest, but I’m pretty sure this is Ware’s thing?) You can say Ware’s comics are about human misery, and that’s not wrong exactly, but it’s not the whole truth. To tell the whole truth, you’d have to acknowledge that the worlds Ware builds, and particularly Ware’s Chicago, are pretty dang white.

What I hear people praise Ware for--and what I’ve heard Ware himself describe as his project--is his depiction of the human condition (“what it means to be alive”). But in his work, there aren’t that many different kinds of humans. Yes, Jimmy Corrigan’s sister is black. But flip through Building Stories, a story that unfolds across decades in and around the city of Chicago. All the characters, except for I think two very minor ones, are white. Talking animals have much bigger roles. A talking building has a much bigger role. Even the big crowds of people milling around in his backgrounds are white. And it seems to me that this artist who consistently sees the human condition (in Chicago!) as almost always (if not totally) this default shade of white…I’m not even critiquing the comics themselves; it just seems to me that’s not the cartoonist you want to be your go-to guy for topical New Yorker covers about race in America.

I think you can see the problems that arise in using white misery and other kinds of human misery interchangeably when you look at Ware’s latest cover.


Someone on Twitter described this as “Old Bobby Hill and Black Bobby Hill share an awkward silence,” which is perfect.

While this cover is sort of confusing, I think what we can say for sure is that Ware is emphasizing sameness. These guys’ features are nearly identical. Their facial expressions are identical. The white cop is driving (get it? do you get it??), but otherwise the differences are literally skin deep. All lives matter? Cops have feelings too? We’re all worried about police brutality here in America? I don’t know, all I’m getting is “basically we’re the same and are united in how we’re freaking the fuck out,” and that just seems like a really unhelpful and misguided statement when it comes to the particular topic at hand. I’m just going to hazard a guess that Chris Ware riding his tandem bicycle over to Ira Glass’s place for dinner is not having the same thoughts and feelings about police brutality and race in America as…I don’t know. Anyone?? Certainly not the same thoughts and feelings about police brutality that a black man, police or otherwise, would have. One last clue: the title of the cover is “Shift.” Are we to imagine that we’re in Charlotte, where the latest episode of police brutality affected the special friendship of Old Bobby Hill and Black Bobby Hill? Are those the stakes of this cover? Just…what. why.

I’m sure good old Ken Parille is going to trot out the seven types of ambiguity for this cover any day now, to which I say: This is a political cartoon. By Chris Ware.

VI. And Chris Ware is very bad at political cartooning, particularly when it comes to issues surrounding identity. Whenever I state this obvious point, some white middle-aged dude who fancies himself an impartial scientist of comics (e.g., Tim Hodler) will encourage me to make my case, which is not only difficult and unpleasant for all the reasons stated here (plus boringness), but also because I suspect it’s totally futile. If you can’t admit that these covers are bad, I really doubt there’s anything I can say that will change your mind.

I’ll cop to some actual bias: I think political cartooning mostly sucks, and furthermore find that Ware, for all his greatness, can be a bit heavy-handed on a good day, the combination of which undoubtedly makes these covers especially bad in my eyes. But--at the risk of sounding like I have the delusions of impartiality I was just making fun of--I actually think it’s possible to deem a given (political) cover unsuccessful, even on its own terms.

Quick example. Remember this?


It was accompanied by an animation (of This American Life, another thing I find loathsome, just on a personal level) and an essay (in which Chris Ware describes makeup as something “women are doing just to accommodate men”--yikes!) that has a totally different and even conflicting message from the still image. The animation (and the essay) are about a parent’s worry for their kid. The cover reads more about bemoaning the passage of time (notice the snapshot taped to the mirror) and the anxieties of an aging woman (notice the tired-looking mother stares at herself, not her child, in the mirror). When I look at that cover, I see a mother’s distress at losing her own youth and beauty--which, if you’ve read Building Stories, you might recognize as Ware’s central idea of womanhood. The discrepancies between the cover and its accompaniments were not intentional.

By definition, political cartooning is about messaging much more so than most art. When it’s done well, I think it’s capable of shouldering some amount of ambiguity or multiple meanings, but what we are talking about here is not the magical ambiguity of art; it’s just a clear cut case of an artist who has missed his own mark. Ware meant anxious parent and he drew a woman who looks anxious about her own situation. Admittedly, that’s just the shittiness of that particular cover. Other times, like with his most recent police cover, Ware’s message is just inscrutable. Still other times, it’s hokey (with somewhat redeeming art):


And other times the message is hokey with art that’s just…bad:


All to say that Chris Ware, who is truly a great cartoonist, is very bad in a whole spectrum of ways when it comes to this particular kind of work…a kind of work that, by the bye, Francoise Mouly has described as “the best-paid job as editorial in that field.” And I don’t know, maybe there are tons of female cartoonists and cartoonists of color doing New Yorker covers, but I can’t say that I’ve noticed very many over the years. I think of the comics personalities I have recognized--Ware, Daniel Clowes, Ivan Brunetti, Adrian Tomine, Art Spiegelman, Robert Crumb, Charles Burns, Roz Chast…this is an unscientific, off-the-top-of-my-head survey of cartoonists (many covers are by other kinds of artists, and my limited knowledge of the field means there’s cartoonists I didn’t recognize, or plain forgot), so take this for what it is (a guess, not a claim)…but to me that looks like a fairly homogenous group in more ways than one: mostly white, mostly men, most of whom exist within a close-knit circle of friends. And that’s how jobs work, and how comics especially works, but my tentative conclusion is that the art editor of the New Yorker should maybe make a little more effort to give someone who’s not her white male friend the chance to depict experiences that are not, in fact, universal--experiences that in fact hinge upon not being universal.

VII. Which brings me to the last annoying thing about criticizing Chris Ware’s New Yorker covers: The woman you criticize along with him will be conveniently erased. A critique of a Chris Ware cover for the New Yorker is also a critique of Francoise Mouly. And that’s tricky. I can’t offer much substantive critique of her role in this because (a) she’s juggling a lot of variables, including the availability and interests of the artists she works with and (b) I’m too lazy to look into her stable of cover artists for a deep-dive demographic breakdown and examination of who tends to cover what. I guess also (c) I’m not prepared to say white artists should never do New Yorker covers on police brutality (though, also: I don’t think that’s crazy!). But here’s the thing: this is Ware’s second cover on police brutality in 2016. And he’s had at least three covers I can think of off the top of my head (all appear above) centered on (white) feminism. That’s not a Chris Ware problem. That’s a Francoise Mouly problem.