SEEMS TO ME IT’S CHEMISTRY

It has to be said that The Sound Of Music is not even close to being on my 100 best films list. But without it, one of my favourite pieces of music wouldn’t exist. Sax titan John Coltrane’s rendition of the Rodgers and Hammerstein song My Favorite Things is music of beauty and power that translates the base metal of its source material into something golden.

Equivalent alchemy happens in the world of comics on a regular basis. Jack Kirby’s ludicrous but brilliant artwork brings Stan Lee’s hokey stories to life in any number of their collaborations, but particularly on early Marvel titles such as Fantastic Four and Thor. And where would Alan Moore be without collaborators Melinda Gebbie, Dave Gibbons, David Lloyd and Kevin O’Neill? Each brings something utterly right to the stories they work on: they’re literally unimaginable without the talents of those particular artists.

For similar reasons, I very specifically chose Corrina Rothwell to bring the concept of a young undead girl to life in an animation we’re jointly developing. Corrina’s style brings out the emotions of the characters, rather than the gruesomeness, which would be the wrong road to go down in a project that’s intended for a younger audience. Similarly, Andy Tudor’s work on another animated story we’re developing about a group of children living on a Martian colony, isn’t just about his tremendous graphic skill, but a reflection of his lifelong fascination with NASA and astronomy.

Which is to say, it’s all about the collaboration, stupid. And right now, ’stupid’ is the best description of the Canada Council for the Arts, who have listed Mariko Tamaki as the sole creator of the childrens’ book Skim, illustrated by Mariko’s cousin Jillian. For a full account of the situation, read here.

To be fair, we can assume naivity on the part of the judging panel rather than wilful ignorance. But to get across just how dumb this move is, consider the following thought experiment:

Imagine Spider-Man drawn in the style of Fungus the Bogeyman.

Or Watchmen drawn by brilliant childrens’ book illustrator Quentin Blake.

For that matter, what would a Roald Dahl classic for children be like with art by Watchmen artist Dave Gibbons?

Get the idea? In comics, animation, and good illustrated books, art and text are a seamless whole. If they’re not, at least one person isn’t doing their job properly. And if one person’s letting the side down, the whole thing fails to achieve the spark that can occur when collaborators add to each others’ contributions.

Which isn’t to say that there aren’t plenty of generic, typical, mediocre comics and animations out there. But any fule kno that there’s a difference between the cool of the first animated Pink Panther series and the subsequent one where, of all things, PP talked. Likewise, the magic that Grant Morrison and Frank Quitely conjure together in We3 and their other collaborations in the world of comics is arguably unmatched by either’s partnership with anyone else.

There’s a click with Morrison and Quitely as surely as there was between Scorsese and De Niro, or Bjork and Nellee Hooper; confirmation that much modern art is the product of the indefinable spark of talents rubbing together, rather than older notions of the singular genius auteur. And it’d be nice if the Canada Council for the Arts woke up to that fact.

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2 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    Ladyloki said,

    November 18, 2008 @ 7:48 pm

    Interesting that I am coming up against this issue in many ways recently.

    I went along to Ian Rankin’s talk with Toby Litt at the ICA last night, which proved fun and interesting, with news of his first foray into graphic novels. Rankin’s Dark Entries will be published next September. I won’t spoil it by revealing the rough plot we were given, but it’s a Constantine tale set in an all too recognisable world. The Hellblazer novels have been varied over the years, but I think that with this new Vertigo Crime imprint, Constantine may be in for his darkest times yet. According to the book’s editor Will Dennis, Dark Entries will explore “what happens when John Constantine is called in to investigate what went wrong on a reality television show.”

    The release date (this being a launch title for the new imprint was originally Spring 2009, but it appears to have been pushed back. From last night’s discussion, Rankin clearly isn’t happy with some of the translation from written word to image… small niggles like the artist he’s never met spelling everything the American way, despite the book being set in London, and not knowing what a dumbwaiter is, choosing instead to draw a hostess trolley.

    His comments highlighted something Alan Moore referred to in a talk I attended last week (about Lost Girls in particular); the difficulty of having to describe every detail for an artist, without resorting to thumbnail sketches that misdirect and misinform simply because they’re not very good. Rankin put it this way: when you write a novel, you know the reader will do most of the work. You can write ‘Rebus walked into the bar’, and the reader visualises it… the layout, what Rebus is wearing, where we are within the space, whether we are seeing the scene from in front of him, from his POV or from behind him. We imagine the sights, sounds, smells…. is it noisy? Deserted? How many people at the bar? Is the bartop worn, scuffed, or highly polished? You get the idea.

    However, when writing for a graphic novel, you have to turn film director; set the scene for the artist, describe the layout, where the tables are, where the protagonist will stand, who he’s looking at, who’s looking at him, who’s trying not to be seen, and what else is going on in the frame. Rankin seems to have both relished the experience and yet not keen to repeat it… but who knows? As he said himself, he was tempted to drop Rebus into the Constantine story until he realised the sheer legal complications of using him in a DC publication. But he didn’t rule out graphic-Rebus at some stage.

    I suppose the connection here with what you’ve spoken about above is the lack of credit for either writer when paired with a famed artist, or vice versa… when one element of the graphic novel shouts so loudly, it drowns out the others. And then the impact of the entire thing is lost.

  2. 2

    Adrian said,

    November 19, 2008 @ 1:56 am

    Indeed. Ultimately it’s another example of any human dynamic involving two or more people: their energies can fizzle, reach a lowest common denominator, or become more than the sum of their parts.

    As for the problems with comics you draw attention to from the Rankin talk, they’re a function of the business of comics rather than the artform. Theoretically, Grant Morrison is trademark DC Comics, having written himself into some of his own stories. Rankin would do well to keep Rebus outside the pages of any work for DC for similar reasons unless the legal aspects are watertight.

    Regarding artists not getting what writers want, this can be a source of unexpected comedy. British girls’ comics of the seventies and eighties were often drawn by European artists unfamiliar with British icons such as a whelk stall or police phonebox, and what resulted made no sense to anyone, but provided some job-related amusement for dark-humoured writers.

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