Speaking of Polio...

Okay, you got me. I wasn’t speaking about polio. Not too many people I know speak or even think about polio these days. The reason is obvious; the crippling (and deadly) disease has been largely eradicated from our planet.

Older generations remember all too well the common sight of the polio stricken; walking with crutches, wearing those clunky exoskeletal braces on their legs, and the horror of those forced to live within the tomb of an iron lung. Less than 60 years ago, 59,000 Americans alone were crippled or killed by a polio epidemic. Thanks to the vaccines developed by Jonas Salk and Albert Sabin during the 1950s, we’ve been blessed with a nearly polio free existence since.

However, there are a few places left in the world that still struggle with the virus, and the people of Rotary International are among the few who continue to talk about polio, spreading awareness and actively raising money to finally destroy the disease completely. Their effort is straightforwardly called End Polio Now.


As some of you know, in late 2008, Rotary International contracted me to draw the first in a series of educational comic book stories. “Amazing Stories of Polio” depicts the history of the poliovirus and the fight to eliminate it. The story appeared first within the pages of the February ’09 issue of the Rotarian magazine, and soon after was printed as a stand-alone comic that has been widely distributed, and admired by Rotary Club members worldwide.

One such person is Steve Root of Canterbury, UK. Steve is a member of the Rotary Club of Canterbury Sunrise , a group of about 30 men and women of different backgrounds sharing a strong community spirit. A year ago, Steve contacted me with an interesting idea. He wanted to take my comic book pages, enlarge them, and display them in a storefront’s window in Canterbury. His idea was to draw attention to Rotary’s End Polio Now program and share the story with as many passers-by as possible.

I forwarded his request to my Rotarian contacts (who commissioned me) and after many months of discussions, and more time finding an appropriate venue, Steve has finally made his idea into a reality...


Here on the corner of Butchery Lane and Burgate, a busy UK high street and tourist destination (right by Canterbury Cathedral), the Rotarians have conspired to transform this storefront into one giant comic book...

Steve Root and his amazing giant comic book!

Putting up the second panel

Steve Root and fellow club member, Jim Gascoyne

Ta daaaa...!

Why did Steve Root spend a year on this project? In his own words...

“Polio has been eradicated from the UK for a long time. Many people now don't know the effect polio has on a person, having never seen it for themselves. I'm one of those people. I'm in my early thirties and, until reading your comic, I really didn't have the first clue about what the disease does. I have vague recollections of a sugar cube vaccination in primary school, but no first hand knowledge. Using the comic as a piece of artwork educates passers-by who stop to read it.”

In addition, the campaign will increase local awareness about Rotary in general, and their local club in particular. They also plan to try to raise some money by selling the comics in an adjacent shop and collecting donations.

How long will this display be up? “Until the next tenant arrives. That could be
tomorrow, or a couple of months, we don't know for certain.”

From my point of view, one thing is certain: this is extremely cool! It’s like having my own gallery opening in the UK! “Amazing Stories of Polio,” was a very gratifying story to work on as an illustrator. It’s not often that I get to work on projects connected to a really good cause, and I am very pleased to see my work appearing again and again in different creative ways. (Thanks, Steve!)

P.S. If you happen to be in Canterbury, Kent and see this thing in person, drop me a note here--and send me a photo of yourself, if at all possible! Wish I could be there myself!

The Rotarian

It's been quiet here on the ol' blog, mainly because I've had a surge of much-needed work this Autumn. In September, I started working on my second comic book story for Rotary International's The Rotarian magazine. Readers of this blog may recall that last year I drew a 16-page feature about the history of polio and the fight to eradicate the crippling disease.

The new story, which will be featured in the December issue of The Rotarian, is a biography of the founder of Rotary, Paul Harris. Like the polio story, this is a 16-page story appearing in the magazine, that will also be appearing as a stand-alone pamphlet sometime next year. And even cooler: I drew the image for the magazine's front cover this time...



I am very psyched about this story, for several reasons. Most of the story takes place around the years 1890-1910, and I loved drawing the period. I enjoy doing the research and trying to give an air of authenticity to the drawings. The first part of the story is pretty moody and atmospheric, and I used a lot of heavy shadows and a monochromatic color scheme to convey that.

I'm not sure how much I can show here on my blog, but here are a couple of teaser images. I'll probably post more in December when the issue is published...



The folks at Rotary International have been great to work with, and they are very excited about using the comic book storytelling form as a means to reach more people with their messages and causes. I'm looking forward to participating in their NEXT foray into "Graphic Journalism," as they like to call it.

But right now, I have a POP-UP book to color! More on that later...

YALSA!

Here's some cool news to wake up to: my TOKYOPOP manga, Battle of the Bands is among the books nominated for the Young Adult Library Services Association's (YALSA) Great Graphic Novels for Teens list for 2008!

I should also mention that BOTB would make a great holiday gift for any teens in your life! :)

Hide And Seek

Becky Cloonan’s latest blog entry makes the case for comics creators to get more personal. She references another blog that made her consider that when artists work on projects that “don’t tell the world what they think…or believe…” then they are hiding. They’re not being “true to themselves” and, ultimately, they will be forgotten.

I was going to leave a comment on her blog in response, but I felt my own soap-box sermon coming on, so I decided to address the issue here! (Stand back--!)

On one hand, I can understand the sentiment. Like Becky, I have a deep affection and appreciation for the comic art form. As it happens, in the past, I’ve thought on this subject. When I read a book like Craig Thompson’s Blankets or anything by Will Eisner, Adrian Tomine or Joe Sacco (to name only a few), I am struck by how goddamned personal their work is. These people have a real point of view, something to share and some brass balls for putting it all out there for everyone to see! I admit it—I sometimes feel small in comparison, and I hope that one day I’ll have something equally interesting to say. This is something to aspire to.

On the other hand, the thing that bothers me about this train of thought is that it smacks of an elitism that truly drives me crazy.

A couple of years ago, I was flipping through a piece in the New York Times Magazine about some of my contemporary comic book heroes. There was a big photo spread featuring Seth, Joe Sacco, Adrian Tomine, Chester Brown and, of course, the Nobel Prize-winning author of Maus, Art Spiegelman. The article was the latest version of the old, “Comics aren’t just for kids” bit. It was a very good piece and nicely prominent, but when I finished reading, I was upset.

The reason why is because it reminded me of the “elite club” that these “heroes” of mine belong to, and the fact that I can never join.

Why not? Because I have worked all these years on “mainstream” comics for Marvel, DC, Image and Dark Horse.

It’s an interesting phenomenon that people don’t talk about in comics. There is a real snobbery in the world of “alternative” comics (or “comix” or “sequential art” or whatever label you want to use). It comes through in the New York Times article, it was apparent in a lecture I attended at UCLA given by Art Spiegelman, and I see it in the blog that caused Becky Cloonan to reflect & comment on. It is an attitude that says, “Our books are ART and everything mainstream is not to be taken seriously—regardless of the quality present in the story and art.” It says that the circumstances in which the works are created are more important than the demonstrable skill of the artists in question.

I truly believe this to be the case, and it pains me. It pains me because all of the aforementioned artists are, in fact, heroes of mine. If they sucked, I wouldn’t care. I really don’t understand how they can marginalize the artists who work “in the trenches” at Marvel & DC simply because that’s where they get their paycheck. The fact is that once you are in the trenches, you can’t get out. You’re not a serious artist, but a commercial hack; a sell-out.

Think I’m exaggerating? Imagine this scenario: A famous “mainstream” artist decides he wants to stop drawing mutants and draw a personal graphic novel about his suburban childhood. Let’s say it’s Rob Leifeld. Now imagine something else: this book is a huge departure from his mainstream work—understated, mature and insightful. The book is personal and has a unique point of view…

…Is anybody going to take this book seriously?

No offense meant to Rob, but think about it. Is Art Spiegelman going to suddenly add Rob Leifeld to his list of “important” contemporary artists? Is The Comics Journal going to mention the book at all? No way. If this were a true story, people would be insulting this book long before anyone ever read a page. It wouldn’t stand a chance in the world of “serious” comics literature. What’s more, Rob’s current fan base wouldn’t be interested either.

I used Rob as an example because he’s famous, but I believe the same would be true for a relative unknown like myself—and I don’t carry the baggage (good & bad) that Rob does. And that’s what makes me upset—Because one day, I would like to try my hand at something “personal” and I’d like it to have a fighting chance. Unfortunately, I might have a better chance of being taken seriously if I published those “comix” pretending to be a newcomer and using a pseudonym.

Why don’t I stop work on my Tokyopop manga and draw my own personal vision right now? Is it because I’m “hiding?” I don’t think so. It’s a complicated issue. I mean, there are financial considerations, to begin with. It’s easy for Art Speigelman to give the advice he gave at UCLA—he told aspiring comics creators that working on the mainstream books was a waste of time and not really art. Of course, he doesn’t need to draw them—he can illustrate a single New Yorker cover and be paid more that I would for a whole issue (or more) of a comic.

Who's to say that a Thor story can’t be an artist’s personal vision anyway? The fact that Stan Lee & Jack Kirby created Thor stories years before Walt Simonson doesn’t diminish Walt’s contribution. Does the fact that the book is a monthly periodical exclude it from “art” status, or does it depend on who owns the character? Was Frank Miller’s Daredevil or Dark Knight less artistic or less of a “personal vision” because it was drawn on a work-for-hire basis? Is Sin City automatically a more valid artistic expression because Frank owns it? Do I need to point out that there are hundreds of self-published, self-indulgent, personal visions being produced these days? Most of which are forgettable.

I don’t think I’m hiding or not being true to myself. I think I’m honing my craft. Every new project I work on teaches me something new. Hopefully I am improving my skills and opening doors, even if I’m not joining any elite clubs. If I’m lucky, I’m building a reputation that will help me get noticed when the time comes that I do have something personal to say. Also, I don’t want to do something “personal” just for its own sake. That’s called masturbation. I hope that when I write to really “say something” that it will be something worth reading. Meanwhile, I’m happy if I can entertain my readers on any level.

End of rant. Your input is appreciated.

_