Oh, Viñetazo

Last weekend I shuffled off to Córdoba for the Viñetazo, a three-day comics conference. To be perfectly honest, my experience was unfulfilling. Part of that was my fault, but the structure of the conference is also to blame.

First of all, I suck at travelling. I went by myself and my pre-trip planning consisted of buying a ticket and finding a place to stay. An “alternative” tour book I once read endorsed going blindly into a city or country as a legitimate method of travelling, but my lack of preparation was not based on a philosophy. I just figured I would figure the city out when I arrived. And I did, by wandering around aimlessly instead of going to museums. I was also lonely, a feeling I thought I had once removed along with shame and optimism. The Historietas Reales gang came, but barely attended the talks, so I spent most of the conference alone. Also, I think I was in a really bad mood.

The Capilla del Buen Pastor, with drawings by Chanti

But not all of the blame can fall on my poor insight. The Viñetazo had one major problem--space. A conference can have amazing speakers and great exhibitions, but if the space isn’t well thought out, it falls apart. First of all, the conference was spread across town. The main presentations were held in the Capilla del Buen Pastor, a former cathedral, and the comics stands were placed blocks away at a book fair. People are lazy and if you have to walk 20 minutes to get between places, you probably won’t go. The vendors experienced that through lack of foot traffic. To add insult to injury, the comics stands were hidden in a corner and up three flights of dangerous stairs.* So, not only do you have to walk 20 minutes, but then you have to climb steep steps? According to Andrés Accorsi, author of the blog 365 Comics por Año, the organizers quickly realized they had made a mistake and tried to make it up to the stand owners. How long was it before the vendors realized there was no traffic or customers? Like, two minutes into the conference? The dangers of dividing up a conference are no secret and have been experienced before. It’s not a new phenomenon. There were very similar complaints about Viñetas Sueltas and Crack Bang Boom. And it’s not as if there wasn’t space in the Capilla. There were stands that sold paper and Truco cards with sports caricatures. A horrible waste of space.

The vendors stands. I quoted Kung Fu Panda endlessly while talking about them:

"My old enemy...stairs!"

Maybe these gross errors would have gone unnoticed if I had attended only one day of the conference. But I was there for all three and it really annoyed me. And it pissed me off as an economist as well. It might have been catastrophic for the vendors. Some of the stands were run by kids selling fanzines or publishing companies from Córdoba, but what about the vendors from Buenos Aires? An unsuccessful event might prove financially damaging for a vendor if he or she is unable to break even or ends up with a loss.

So, I bitched for a bit about space. What I wrote was harsh, but true. Maybe I’ve only been studying the comics world for seven months, but I’ve been talking to people and going to events. I do not claim to be an expert, but I know what works and what doesn’t. Although I have set this post up to reflect a problem in the Viñetazo, I do not think it was a failure. Most of the talks I attended were successes and my experiences meeting comics artists and writers were fantastic. But that is for the next post.

*The gates surrounding the stairs had a sign warning people to be cautious while climbing.

Government support of comics

When I interviewed Andrés Valenzuela, I asked him about how comics could gain a commercial presence and form a larger part of popular culture. He proposed that a regular, yearly festival in Buenos Aires would be beneficial, but to have these festivals, government support would be needed. Allowing a government official to open the festival would provide an incentive for politicians to fund these events. A connection between comics and politics can be beneficial for both groups. The “Homenaje a la Historieta Argentina en la Legislatura,” (Tribute for the Argentine Comic in the Legislature) an event I attended yesterday, was a step in that direction. The event was a two-part lecture, first a general discussion of the Argentine comic, and then a homage to El Eternauta. The lecture was accompanied by a showing of original artwork of some of Argentina’s most well known comics (Isidoro, Divito’s ladies, Carlos Gardel).

The first presentation, “Cómo, qué y por qué leer historietas?,” combined a random mix of people: Patricia Breccia and Carlos Nine (both artist/writers), Laura Vazquez (an investigator and writer), and Diana Maffía (Diputada de la Ciudad, city representative). The talk was unstructured, with each participant expounding on their own personal philosophy and connection to comics. Personally, I was most interested in Diana Maffía, the politician, to learn more about her motivations for joining the group. She talked about her childhood reading comics and talked about her observations on women in comics. Apparently, this diputada wrote the law that established the “Día de la Historieta,” a national holiday that celebrates comics. A semi-important holiday was born out of one person’s childhood interest in comics. The event wasn’t a success in itself, the incoherent choice of speakers led to a bit of tension and some weird vibes, but the fact that the government held a homenaje is important. It shows that courting politicians and developing their interest in comics could lead to more support, just as Andrés Valenzuela suggested. Maybe the comics community doesn’t want to get involved in politics, but for the field to grow, comics need presence, and to get presence, financial investment is necessary. The community needs somebody to represent it on a political scale, a consultant. Maybe my analysis is a bit simplistic, but representation could be essential for the growth of the medium.

Okay, I’m done being serious. I initially wanted to end my post with some sort of silly commentary on the break food (we got stale cookies, the other conference got delicious medialunas), but this post ended with a depressing analysis and it didn’t fit with the mood. So, I am going to end with drawings of the conference (I didn't have a camera, so I forced Santiago Slaby, my boyfriend, to draw some of the presenters):

Carlos Nine

Patricia Breccia

Cats, farts and my first comic

As I mentioned in the previous post, I went to the "Homenaje a la Historieta Argentina en la Legislatura" with my boyfriend Santiago Slaby. Now, Santiago is very opinionated and likes to criticize some of the characters populating the comics world. Knowing that the random bunch of invitees would spur this unending commentary, I gave him a task: draw the presenters (seen in the last post). When he finished, I asked him to draw something we had joked about for quite some time-- a cat that is so fat it can't walk, and moves by farting. Santiago started drawing it, and after the first page I began giving him explicit direction, like "Have the cat make a face like this *scrunches up face, as though farting*" or "Have the cat shoot across the floor like a rocket when it finally farts." Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this ridiculous comic.

My original conception. Obviously I cannot draw.

And now the story....

Oh, the text is also by Santiago. We debated for like, half an hour, whether "one last effort" is actually a phrase or not. But then, cats don't speak perfect English, so it works.

Webcomics: A Love Story

So I’ve ignored this blog for the past few weeks, but I have good excuses! First, I sliced open my pinkie and had to wear a HUGE bandage all over my hand that made it hard to type. Second, I have been interviewing and transcribing. Yes, the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad transcription process. For my transcriptions with students, specialists, and editors, I just do a general script, basically writing the gist of what they are saying, with a few quotes. For writers and artists, I do a word-for-word transcription. When I was interviewing Diego Agrimbau, he mocked my tape recorder (cassette, and larger and heavier than a Bible), and also told me that I should have a digital recorder to share the files with other people. The work I am doing is unique, but useless if I keep these interviews to myself. But, instead of publishing cumbersome hours of audio, I’m transcribing the interviews with the goal of putting them online. Crippled both literally (pinkie) and mentally (transcription is exhausting), I’ve been unable to write for pleasure.

So, for today’s post I’ve decided to write about web comics from the United States. Up until recently, I hated web comics. I thought the format was jarring—too much time passes between uploads and I feel unsatisfied with the one measly page. And also, web comics were for the nerds attached to the computer, spouting Linux and punch lines. All the geeky males I knew and all my friends at college (I went to a women’s college) loved XKCD, a comic about nerds, love, and math illustrated by nauseating stick figures. They would quote it while taking about other things I despise, mainly video games or computers.

I held a profound hatred for web comics until January 2011 when I informally interviewed a friend that works with merchandising at Wondermark, a web comic that mixes Victorian images with weird situations. I was a huge asshole during the interview, frequently expressing my distaste of web comics and probably fake vomiting a few times. He was quite patient, and, based off my interest in history, recommended that I check out “Hark! A Vagrant” by Kate Beaton. When I got home, I reluctantly looked it up and...fell in love. Kate Beaton is a genius, mixing historical and literary jokes with wide-eyed, anachronistic characters, and connecting them all to modern day culture. I got some of the jokes about the United States (although none of the Canadian), and immediately proceeded to show them to my family or anyone else who would listen. “Hark! A Vagrant” comes out weekly, but it doesn’t bother me because her stories are auto-conclusive. Also, it turns out that I am a history nerd.

"Garfield" by Kate Beaton.

Historical reference: James A. Garfield, the 20th President of the USA, was shot and killed by Charles Guiteau.

Since January, I’ve only begun reading one more web comic: “Girls With Slingshots,” a comic about post-college graduates in a small town. It comes out daily, so I remember the narrative, and has a wide cast of characters that appeal to all types of people. The characters include S&M mistresses, roller derby lesbians, lushes, cats, baristas, computer junkies, etc. The comic is especially appealing because it shows the post-college funk, where most of the characters have jobs, but haven’t yet figured out what they want to do with their lives.

Girls with Slingshots

I’ve decided to make overcoming stupid prejudices one of my goals for the year. There were a lot of things that, after a few negative experiences, I wrote off completely, like music concerts and brussel sprouts. (I don’t hate music concerts if I can sit down and brussel sprouts are okay, but only lightly cooked and with lots of butter.) This goal isn’t really necessary to my life, but it helps break up my routine and I might end up finding something new. My next stupid prejudice ready to be overcome? Large groups of Americans mixed with beer. I am going to Oktoberfest with a group of other Fulbrighters. It's going to be awesome.

Cats and Comics

Salt and pepper. Shoes and socks. Comics and cats. See the pattern? These things go together. Cats and comics are inexorably linked. Diego and Laura have a cat, Lucas Varela wants one, and Rodrigo Díaz (from Moebius) and I talked about cats for a while after our interview. Cats can be inspirational as well as good companions. Jeffrey Brown wrote two books about his cats and I’m sure the writers of Garfield and Get Fuzzy have cats at home.

Now that the connection between cats and comics has been firmly established, I’m going to make a plug for “¡Hacé feliz a un gato!” (Make a cat happy!), an organization that helps the cats that have been abandoned in Buenos Aires’ Jardín Botánico (Botanic Garden). The first time I lived here, went to the Botanic Garden frequently to feed and pet the cats. When I returned to Buenos Aires in March, I knew I wanted to become part of an organization that would care for the cats on a regular basis. So I looked online and found “¡Hacé feliz a un gato!” I began volunteering, learning the cats’ names, and nodes where they gather. Some cats are affectionate, desiring contact with humans more than the food we bring; others need wet food because their bad teeth make it hard to chew the dry pellets; some cats are so shy we have to leave food that they will eat only when we walk away. Each cat has a distinct personality. Panchita, black and white with dainty paws, is shy, but still follows me around the park. Trapito, or “dishrag” in English, is called so because he always looks like he won’t survive another day, but is miraculously alive every time we bring food. Ismael, a big orange cat, guards the Plaza Italia entrance with the seriousness of a gargoyle.

Cats eating by a greenhouse

So, what exactly does “¡Hacé feliz a un gato!” do? They take care of the cats that have been abandoned in the Botanic Garden and help them get adopted. Volunteers feed cats daily and participate in monthly spay and neuter operations. (In Spanish, “castración” is the word used for “spay and neuter.” Terrifying.) Although at first glance, the Botanic Garden seems like a sanctuary, most cats get sick from the constant stress, cold, and rain. When the cats get sick, volunteers bring them to the vet. As you might imagine, resources are extremely limited (I’ve run out of food two times) and the organization is funded only by volunteer donations.

So what can you do, dear readers of this blog? Well, if you want to become a super important person in the comics world and the savior of an animal, you can adopt a cat! These cats are super sweet and might end up inspiring you to write a cat comic and become a millionaire. You can also contact the organization at adopciones.botanico@gmail.com and ask for information about donations or volunteering. While you’re at it, join their Facebook page: “¡Hacé feliz a un gato!” If you are thinking about adopting a cat or would just like to meet some of them, you can help me feed them. Just leave me a message!

Chain of Command

I’ve completed thirteen interviews since beginning in April. Maybe that number doesn’t seem like a lot, but combined, I’ve probably done about 18 hours of talking, listening, and eating pastries. I’ve only posted two interviews on my blog, one with Lucas Varela and another with Andrés Accorsi. So, who have I been interviewing? I’ve interviewed comics creators (Lucas Varela, Diego Agrimbau, Ricardo de Luca, Fran López, Dante Ginevra), specialists (Andrés Accorsi, Oscar Steimberg, Andrés Valenzuela), students (Guillermo, from my workshop with Diego), publishing companies (Moebius, Común, Historieteca), and comics organizations (La Banda Dibujada). It’s a comprehensive list, no doubt, but in terms of my project about the lives of comics creators, five creators doesn’t seem like enough. But as I’ve been talking to artists and writers, I’ve come to realize that I need to understand the entire Argentine comics production system. I can’t understand the lives of creators if I don’t understand the context in which they are working.*

When creators mentioned the need for more publishing opportunities and specialists lamented the lack of advertising new comics, I decided to interview the owners of the publishing companies to better understand their point of view. Although I have not finished transcribing these interviews, Moebius, Común, and Historieteca all told me similar stories. Driven by a love of comics and seeing some sort of niche in the market, these companies began to publish. Común promotes the idea of the graphic novel, publishing books that emphasize the idea of the comic as a form of literature to be placed with literature in the bookstore. Historieteca publishes works by Argentine artists only available abroad. Moebius uses it’s connections to the graphic design community to create high-quality comics with a designer’s touch. While interviewing these publishing companies, the owners told me about their challenges: distribution and mismanaged display of comics in bookstores. So that’s sent me on a new quest to figure out the complexities of distribution and the hierarchy of bookstore space. Of course, the main focus of my project will still be on artists and their lives, but I want to understand their lives in the context of comics in Argentina.

*Okay. That sentence sort of makes me sound like an idiot. Of course I understand both the economic and historical elements that have had an impact on comics in the last 20 years. But I am ignorant about the creation-production-dissemination process. What exactly happens at every step of the process? What are the responsibilities and challenges at each level of production?

Marv and Me: Encounters and Translation in the Feria del Libro Infantil y Juvenil

During one of my posts in May, I described the Feria del Libro as being a sort of hell that was hot and crowded with sloth-like browsers. If I remember my Dante, there are distinct levels of hell, and The Feria del Libro Infantil y Juvenil was on another, deeper level.* The waves of children reaching up to my ribs moved faster than the elderly at the Feria del Libro, but were more unpredictable, stopping dead in the middle of the passage way without warning. So, after navigating the crowds on the first day, I was looking forward to sitting in a dark room and listening to the Marv Wolfman chat. But, no such luck. Just as I arrived and was about to go wait in the line, Andrés Accorsi, the director for the comics section of the Feria del Libro Infantil y Juvenil (see previous posts), approached me and said, “I’m glad you’re here. You can help with the translation.” Seeing my wide-eyed, horror-stricken face, he reminded me that I had offered to help him with the fair numerous times. Realizing that not only I had offered to help, but that he had previously warned me that it was a dangerous offer, I really had no one to blame but my overzealous self.

Too shocked to be scared, I went up to the stage and met Marv Wolfman, an amiable guy with a big smile and an amazing 1980’s sweater. (I later found out that he owns many of these sweaters in different colors.) Wolfman has created comics in the United States since the 1960’s and some of his contributions have laid the foundation for the modern comic book industry. He’s written comics (The Teen Titans and Tomb of Dracula) as well as scripts for animation and video games. Andrés explained that I would be translating his and the audience’s questions from Spanish to English for Marv. Essentially, it was a timesaving measure.

The only picture where I don't look terrified, taken from the El Blogazo del Comic blog

The doors were opened and the die-hard fans rushed to get seats in the front. I went up on the stage to sit next to Wolfman. Translating the questions that Andrés posed was pretty easy. I’ve seen his translation style before in Crack Bang Boom and he made eye contact with me when he was asking a question. I wouldn’t translate every word of the question, but synthesize it and come up with the essence of the question. Problems arose when the audience asked questions. First of all, I couldn’t hear anything because an infernal children’s performance across the hall played music at a heavy metal concert’s volume. Second of all, the crowd was filled with fanatics of American comics with very specific questions. Sometimes I could translate the question, but I gave Andrés the “I-have-no-idea-what-they-just-said” look more than once when I didn’t understand a specific reference. Even the next day, after reading about Wolfman’s career for a few hours, I was unable to make sense of some of the meticulous questions. I guess the man’s been in business for about half a century, so naturally I wouldn’t know everything he’s done after only a few hours of research. I probably should have been more embarrassed by my lack of comics knowledge, but anyone that has met me knows that I don’t read many superhero comics.

On the first day of the lecture series, Wolfman talked about his work in videogames and animation, and movies based on his comics. The second day, he talked about comics. Some of the most interesting topics he discussed were the role of comics shops and the format of the comic book. Comics shops, he suggested, should de-specialize to include games and toys and should also provide a place for people to gather for events. This would draw people in and make them stay, instead of just entering to pick up their comics. I recently interviewed Rodrigo Díaz from the publishing company/store Mobius and he talked about a similar idea—the comic store as a space for diverse groups of people. Moebius (located at Bulnes 658) has jewelry, stuffed animals, posters and diaries as well as comics. Because of this diversity, the store is attractive to different groups of people, not only those interested in comics.

Wolfman also criticized the current “pamphlet” format of the comic, suggesting a future online format to be viewed on the computer or ipad. Collector’s editions would be the only printed comics. In a continued conversation later that night (Marv and his wife took Andrés and me out to eat to thank us) he mentioned his intentional use of the word “pamphlet” to insult, marking his negative feelings about the flimsy nature of the 26 page books.

It was fascinating to be able to meet with someone who has lived through comics history in the United States from the Comics Code to the comics bubble and burst in the 1990’s. His experiences spans decades and the many ups and downs the industry has faced. After having learned so much about Argentine comics history through oral interviews and classes, it was interesting to hear the similar experiences of an American creator.

*Note: I love and support book fairs! I just get really stressed in large, hot spaces with many people. Book fairs should exist, I should just never go to them.

Marv, answering a question.

Me, unable to keep my face still for .05 seconds.

Video taken by El Blogazo del Comic.