My Comic Process!

My initial idea for my final project was to hold a workshop in the WRC for folks to come collaborate on a comic-zine of sorts. The plan was to do a brief presentation about the history of DIY zines and underground comics, the process of drafting and drawing a comic, how to put one together, how to self-publish and distribute, and then to provide art supplies and pre-formatted single pages for folks to draw their own comic regarding a single prompt or subject, that we'd then put together as a collaborative comic-zine and all help distribute throughout campus.

However, I faced a load of (self-imposed) obstacles before I held such a workshop. I felt unqualified in a personal sense to teach a workshop about something I'd never done. I've read a lot of comics, and I've drawn a lot of comics that I haven't finished; I've never actually bound, copied, or distributed anything. I figured I should probably do that at least once before I teach others how to do that.

So my idea was to draw a comic about comics. This would help me in hypothetically facilitating a workshop in the future in two ways: 1) I'd have experience in drawing, binding, copying, and distributing a comic. 2) My comic would be about the sorts of things I'd want to talk about in my workshop; It'd be about underground comics, parallels between comics and social practice art, etc. 3) PREPARE FOR YOUR MIND TO BE BLOWN: My comic-comic would be a conversation, based on conversations, that intends to start conversations.

The content of my comic is just that. It's a conversation about comics and social practice art. The fictional conversation in my comic is based on the many conversations I've had with friends and with random people at the WRC over the term about social practice art. This is where my "residency" comes in. As I mentioned, the initial idea was to hold the workshop at the WRC. As I realized I had my own work to do before I'd feel comfortable holding the workshop before the end of the term (although I did get two people to express interest), I decided to do most of my research and drawing at the WRC and to just sort of talk to people about art. Most people I talked to were familiar with comics and zines, even the sort of non-mainstream comics I often glorify. Pretty much no one knew what social practice art was.

Trying to explain social practice art to people over and over again really facilitated my understanding of social practice art (although I'd still say it's slightly foggy). I had to look it up a couple times, and even the wiki page's definition is somewhat convoluted. I sort of had to piece things together in order to come up with an easy to explain distillation of what it is, which is in my comic. The entire comic is based loosely off of the conversations I had.

I wish I had more (as in, any) pictures of the folks I talked to, and of the comic-drawing process as a whole.I don't have a computer, a camera, or even a memory card in my phone, so that's largely why; I should have borrowed one though. For that I apologize. I also wish I hadn't smudged the ink so many times in my comic! All that aside, I'm really proud of my comic. I feel like it helped me come away with a better understanding of both the potential of comic books and social practice art, and the process of writing a comic as a whole.I also feel a lot more confident in my understanding of what social practice art is and what it can be.

Blahhhh

I don't know if this is appropriate of me to express, but this class has been kind of a messy experience for me personally. I started out being really excited about what I was doing and where I was going with my project, but every time I went to class I spent the whole class being annoyed and frustrated. There are obvious reasons that I don't really need to get into for class time being consistantly derailed, and I understand why we stopped meeting regularly. And it's no one in particulars fault, except for the derailers, but I hardly think they can even be blamed when it really comes down to it. It's just unfortunate I guess. The stars didn't align for this class.

So I'll admit, I got really unmotivated half-way through, and after classes stopped meeting I felt pretty lost, but as usual, had a hard time asking for help. I'm still struggling to understand social practice art, as well as how I can pull it off in an interesting and original way while struggling with my own general aversion to working with or even really talking to people I don't know. Also I got sick twice this term, which sucked. However, as of right now I'm going to try to re-motivate and finish off the term strong.

My goal for this week is to work more on this blog (I've researched a bunch of artists and started some blog posts that I've yet to finish), as well as hold a comic/zine-making workshop at the WRC. We'll see how this goes!

-h

Possibilities for my project, in which I can't think of anything other than zines

Alright, since I have to present this in class today, here's what I'm working with.

1) Host a (series of?) dinner(s?) or brunch(es?) over which a variety of contemporary feminist issues and/or experiences could be discussed and documented in some way (blog? videos? compilation zine/cookbook?) I don't know how to make this into a "residency," though, because I'd want to probably do this at my house, and not at PSU. I also have no clue how I'd be able to afford cooking for many people, as I have no money. I guess it could be a potluck.

2) Host a writing/drawing workshop of some kind, probably at the WRC, where we could write/draw about personal experiences under a certain theme, which I could collect in a zine and distribute. Again with the compilation zine.

3) Continue being extremely confused about what to do, continue profiling artists and generally waxing philosophically (artosophically?) via this blog, and end up with a pretty rad blog which I can continue to keep or maybe even distill and compile into -- YOU GUESSED IT -- a motha f*ckin' ZINE.

My problem so far is that I keep coming up with "social practice-y" projects that aren't really residencies, or residency projects that aren't really social practice-y or relevant to the general direction in which I want to go. I'm having trouble connecting the two. I wonder if there is wiggle room.

On that note, here is what I found when I google image-searched the word "confusion."




-h

Nicole Georges is my sort of my hero

"Sort of" because it's embarrassing to admit that someone you might run in to is your hero. I'm not really sure why? Nicole Georges lives and works in Portland, which obviously happens to be where I dwell, and I've seen her around (at Mrs. and at the comic symposium). It's a strange and unique phenomenon with me that whenever I harbor an immense amount of respect for someone, it makes me cripplingly shy towards them. So instead of saying "Nicole Georges is totally my fucking hero" I'm going to play it casual and say "sort of," to make it less creepy.

Wait, what?

Anyway, Georges is most well-known as the author/illustrator of Invincible Summer, an autobiographical comic zine she's been making since 2000 (I think). In the comic, Georges illustrates her daily life, exploring such things as shitty break ups, chicken tragedies, and chronic over-caffeination through the traditionally hyper-masculine, super-hero-only medium of the comic book (not to say she's the first or only non-male/queer/non-super-hero comic artist, but the first I was exposed to). This sort of changed my entire take on comic books, because I'd always thought them to be sort of formulaic and irrelevant. Once I realized that ANYTHING could be written about in comic-form, I realized what I wanted to start doing with myself.


Additionally, Georges teaches zine/comic workshops and occasionally does residencies (such as at Benson high school) where she'll teach said workshops. This seemed relevant since I'm trying to figure out how to do a residency on campus while possibly working in some sort of illustration element. I don't really want to do any teaching but maybe I could guide some sort of writing and drawing workshop at the WRC. I'm just not sure I'm confident enough to really guide a group of people to do anything. But it could be collaborative!

I'm reaching the point in my blog post where I'm realizing how severely under-caffeinated I am and am having a hard time staying focused, however in summary: Nicole Georges rules, is a babe, is super-talented and bad ass, and is one of my main sources of inspiration. Her blog is here and her etsy store is here. I'll probably return to this post later after some coffee.


-h

Eleanor Antin, Exhausted Ramblings, CARVING

First of all, I'd like to mention that I've been thinking about this project obsessively all day. Secondly, I am extremely tired, and typing this from bed on my shitty laptop that doesn't "work," exactly, in that it's like 6 years old, someone gave it to me for free, the touch pad is broken, a lot of keys are missing, and it only temporarily picks up internet. Point being, this may not be my most eloquent post.

Anyway, after mentioning that song by Le Tigre, I had it stuck in my head all day. So I came up with the bright idea of researching some of the artists they mention. One of the first ones was Eleanor Antin. Yet another feminist artist from the '70's (I'm not sure why I've been on such a '70's roll today), she made a video piece called Representational Painting in which she records herself applying make-up in front of a mirror. It's meant to explore the ways in which society pressures women to live up to certain impossible ideals of beauty, which of course is an standard concept that feminists love to explore (I'm not trying to imply that it's cliche, just that it's common; as long as we're expected to live up to societal standards, then it should continue to be challenged).

Working off of where she was going with Representational Painting video, Antin took a series of 148 pictures of herself over the course of 37 days, during which she dieted with the goal of losing ten pounds, entitled CARVING: A Traditional Sculpture. The pictures are reminiscent of Eadweard Muybridge's famous photographic studies of motion from the 1800's, except hers are all of the same four positions: front, back, and both sides. Hers is not a study in motion as much a study of the effects of dieting on her body; the motion is in the dwindling size of her frame.







-h

Suzanne Lacy, New Genre Public Art vs. Traditional Public Art, Three Weeks in May

Last term in Intro to Art & Social Practice, we read an article by Suzanne Lacy from Mapping the Terrain: New Genre Public Art, an anthology of essays about the evolution and place of public art, which apparently she also edits. The essay was entitled Cultural Pilgrimages and Metaphoric Journeys. In it, Lacy distinguishes between what she calls "new genre public art" (which sounds a lot like what we call social practice art), and traditional public art (such as what Tom Wolfe refers to as "the turd in the plaza"). Of NGPA artists, she writes, "artists of varying backgrounds and perspectives have been working in a manner that resembles political and social activity but is distinguished by its aesthetic sensibility." "Public strategies of engagement are an important part of its aesthetic language," as well as "collaboration with his or her audience." This is how I've been defining social practice art since last term. I feel as though the essay is really helpful to anyone who is as confused as I used to be about what defines social practice art, so the essay can be found here.

What I didn't know about Suzanne Lacy when I read that article last term is that she's also a pretty awesome feminist artist, and could be thought of as a social practice artist as well! She studied under the aforementioned Judy Chicago at the University of Fresno in the '70's, and participated in the University's first feminist art program. In 1977 she collaborated with artist Leslie Labowitz in a series of events entitled Three Weeks in May, the goal of which was to expand awareness of the prevalence of sexual violence against women. The series included installations, performances, and even self-defense classes for women.

"On this map of Los Angeles, installed in the mall outside City Hall, Lacy stenciled the word 'RAPE' in red on the approximate locations attacks reported to police during the three weeks of the project. (At the close of Three Weeks in May, ninety rapes had been reported.)"-MOCA

-h

Judy Chicago, the Dinner Party, & Le Tigre

I remember hearing about Judy Chicago in a previous class, but I can't remember if it was an art class or a women's studies class. Anyway, she was one of the first established and self-proclaimed "feminist artists," and she was also a total bad ass. Anyone who's familiar with feminist art has heard of Judy Chicago, so it feels like a pretty good place to start.


Her most famous project was the Dinner Party, which was basically a triangle-shaped table with 39 table settings; all of the table settings were for for mythical or historical women who were famous for one reason or another. According to wikipedia, "Each place setting features a table runner embroidered with the woman's name and images or symbols relating to her accomplishments, with a napkin, utensils, a glass or goblet, and a plate. Many of the plates feature a butterfly- or flowerlike sculpture as a vulva symbol. A collaborative effort of female and male artisans, The Dinner Party celebrates traditional female accomplishments such as textile arts (weaving, embroidery, sewing) and china painting, which have been framed as craft or domestic art, as opposed to the more culturally valued, male-dominated fine arts. The white floor of triangular porcelain tiles is inscribed with the names of a further 999 notable women[1]."




The naming of different notable women sort of reminds me of the Le Tigre song, Hot Topic, because they do the same thing, although they're naming more modern, radical feminist and queer artists/performers and obviously doing it in a less formal way. However, I think the idea of giving "shout-outs" to traditionally marginalized artists is similar.

I think that the Dinner Party is rad in it's celebration of historical female bad asses, but it's definitely a second-wave piece (of course, because it was made in the '70's by a white woman), and in that way is not free of universalizing or erasing qualities. Chicago disproportionately represents white, straight, typically-abled, middle- or upper-class cis-women in her work and in this piece, which is unfortunately a pretty typical quality of any second-wave feminist art, writing, or theory. However, one cool thing about it is that even though it's considered "fine art" and is housed in a musuem, it was more capable of being widely recieved by and accessible to the general public than other "fine art" of the time because it went against the period's stuffy modernist tendencies in utilizing a variety of materials as well as more blatantly political, feminist symbolism.

-h