State of Comic Retailing, Seattle edition

We love the The Stranger. This probably isn’t news, as we have mentioned our beloved weekly several times. And through various events, like Harvey Pekar at Town Hall or Los Bros Hernandez at Fantagraphics, we’ve seen the same friendly face representing our paper of choice.

Paul Constant is awesome. He is knowledgable and varied in the books that he reviews, and obviously has some respectable literary chops. But this week, while reading Constant Reader, I started to bang my head on my desk after reading his piece. Constant started off benignly enough, bringing up some recycled points about the average superhero comics reader and how the overall face of comics are changing. And then he went there.

He brought up the overwhelming awesome contained within the mecca-type indie comic book store. You know, the notoriously awesome ones like Rocketship and Comic Relief. These stores are special because of how different they are from your average shop. And then he bashed on the small Seattle’s chain Zanadu. My physical reaction to his observation was eye-rolling and scoffing:

Once, when I brought an attractive female friend into the store, she was twice approached by slavering male customers and asked if she needed help finding anything.

For the record, after the gazillion trips I’ve made to this particular store I can say I’ve never ever felt objectified or out of place. I’ve been able to talk shop with the female employees. I’ve been able to have special orders placed for me.

Further, I’ve lived in cultural wastelands where the local comic shop was so abysmal that I resorted to online shopping. Too many gaming nerds, too little selection, and too many weird looks left me running away, never to be seen again.

We comic readers in Seattle are lucky. We have enough decent shops to have a selection, an even better Fantagraphics gallery, and a smart comic loving audience. What’s to hate on, Mr. Constant?

976 sq. ft.

I was pretty excited when I discovered that Tom Kaczynski was going to be one of the new Mome contributors, back in the Spring 2007 issue. I’d picked up a few of his minicomics at APE, and was impressed by his aesthetic, from drawing style to color choices and cover design. Definitely an artist to watch, and his first couple of contributions to that anthology kept me interested. But his most recent piece, 976 sq. ft., really struck a chord with me.

His previous Mome work is steeped in modern anxiety, a theme he’s continued from his work in the free-associative minicomics Transalaska, Transsiberia, and Transatlantis. While those minis featured first person, stream of consciousness ruminations on the nature of modern society and his place in it, specifically through the lens of his upbringing in Communist Poland, his two initial Mome pieces placed those themes into loose narratives that borrow heavily from the psychological thriller genre.

976 sq. ft. is similar, examining the changing face of urban neighborhoods through the obsession of one couple. When I started reading it, I had to flip to the back of the book and check his biography, to see if he was living in Seattle, since it described so well what was happening all over town. Turns out he’s currently in Minneapolis. But his description of the condominium onslaught in a sub-neighborhood of an unnamed city could’ve easily described one of several neighborhoods here in my town. The tiny chunk of non-descript buildings that suddenly becomes a “Neighborhood,” complete with catchy marketing name and accompanying upscale junk mail, the construction site changing the visual and auditory nature of the neighborhood, the growing unease of the current residents. I felt like I was reading about Ballard, Capitol Hill, Fremont. Like the recent mourning over the death of a certain block of E. Pike here in Seattle, 976 sq. ft. uses a single piece of development to underscore the psychological impact of gentrification. It’s a palpable feeling for those of us enduring the rental market in one of the few cities where the housing boom is still going strong, rather than creating foreclosed ghost towns.  It’s a great piece that’s timely, and interesting as a story in its own right.

Claustrophobia!

It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since the Fantagraphics bookstore opened it’s doors in the semi-industrial, semi-artsy Georgetown neighborhood of Seattle. They’ve already become a local institution of sorts, bringing in a steady stream of comic creators for readings and signings, not to mention a enviable series of gallery shows. We’ve been treated to the likes of Peter Bagge, Los Bros Hernandez, Ellen Forney, Anders Nilsen, Jim Woodring, Ivan Brunetti, and more. And best of all, there’s usually free beer, and sometimes rock and roll to be had at these shindigs.

Of course, the best way to celebrate the first anniversary of a comics retail shop is to invite artists and musicians to come mingle with the unwashed masses, cram everybody into a small space filled with comics, and give them all some beer and a discount on new books. And that’s just what the Fantagraphics shop di last night, with Ellen Forney, Jim Woodring, and Jim Blanchard hosting the get together and signing books, and music by The Tom Price Desert Classic.

Now, when I say “a small space,” I mean the fire marshall probably would have passed out (and subsequently shut the place down) if he’d happened by. It was the kind of turnout that leads to clogged aisles and the use of elbows as navigational devices. I guess it just means that the store is too popular for its own good, which isn’t exactly a bad thing. Better to have too many people show up to your party than not enough. But it did lead to a hot and claustrophoic environment that’s not exactly ideal for comics browsing.

Browsing wasn’t really the main point of the night thought, despite the generous 20% discount on all new books. There was plenty of mingling to be done, with fellow comics fans and a smattering of local artists making the rounds through the night. While we here at the Successless Comics blog are more of the wallflowery sort, we did snag a few paparazzi shots of the local inkerati (though I couldn’t quite get a good shot Ellen Forney’s adorable pink furry hat). There’s plenty to look at in the Fantagraphics group on Flickr.

Pabst blue Ribbon and George Herriman. Now that’s what I call a party. Maybe we’ll see you at the 2nd anniversary get together!

Go Home Team

Geographically speaking, we are lucky enough to live in a hotbed of HAWT COMIC ACTIVITY. Seattle is lucky enough to shove Fantagraphics, a hip library system that names Perspeolis as Book of the Year, awesome shops like Zanadu, artists from Peter Bagge to Tatiana Gill, et al. into one small area.

So when Newsarama interviewed a Successless and Seattle favorite cartoonist Ellen Forney, I squealed a bit. We’ve definitely written about our deep affections for her work, and it’s nice to see other folks taking notice as well.

Forney has had a banner year, with I Love Led Zeppelin being praised by all types of media outlets, and the New York Times taking note of her book with Sherman Alexie (another Seattle native - see how cool we are?!), things will get only better. Walking by Cornish College (where Forney teaches) everyday on my way to work serves as a reminder of the seven degrees of awesome Seattle represents.

If we were sports fans, which we are not, this would be like the Mariners going to the Super Bowl. Or is that the Seahawks going to the World Series? Or is it the Sonics going to the Olympics? (note: I’m totally kidding. I do not need to be schooled in the art of sports championships, so quiet in the peanut gallery.)

Emerald City

I’m not exactly a hardcore conventioneer. Most of my experience comes from repeat visits to San Francisco’s long-running Alternative Press Expo (which I’ll be attending again this year!), a sort of haven from the costumes and dealers that tend to overrun your average con. APE makes the artists and publishers the central focus, rather than the crate-digging and bargain hunting. But at some point, I guess I have to dip my toe into the waters of mainstream comic conventiondom. So why not start with the Emerald City Comic Con, a mere 10 minute drive form my apartment?

Upon arriving, it seemed that the choice of venue might have been overkill. The entire convention as tucked neatly into a third of the available floor space at the Qwest Field event center. The con itself was actually a good size, but it was dwarfed by the massive empty space off to the side.

The floor was split into several areas, with artist’s alley wrapping around two sides, a gaming area along another edge, and dealers and exhibitors filling out the middle (with an emphasis on dealers). There was a certainly a lot of eye candy from the moment we arrived, with tons of toys and posters and other collectibles covering much of the convention floor. A lot of the booths were not necessarily comic-related, or combined comics merchandise with assorted other pop culture items (like Lost figurines, old sci-fi DVDs, and even a booth covered in vintage Pez dispensers.

There were tons of costumed attendees as well, and a lot of storm troopers. Appropriate enough, seeing how Peter Mayhew (of Chewbacca fame) was a featured guest. In fact, one of the first things we saw upon arriving was a Storm Trooper conversing with Cobra Commander, both voices muffled by their face masks. There was a pretty inventive Ghost Rider costume, involving a mane of shaggy hair dyed various shades of yellow and orange. I somehow missed getting a picture of that one. And of course, there were the obligatory booth babes, though not in huge numbers (thankfully).

One of the coolest tables was the Denny Middle School Cartoonist’s table, which featured the work of various teenaged artists. I didn’t get the full story on this one, but it looks like the product of a class or club devoted to the art of cartooning. Many of the students were present at the booth, drawing and sketching and offering up a variety of minicomics for sale. It was nice to see some aspiring cartoonists given an opportunity to show off their work, and hopefully get some encouragement and support.

On a negative note, I have to mention that the choice to keep only one concession stand open in the hall was a poor one. The line-up for $6 hot dogs was probably at least 15-20 minutes long, and there was a second concession booth upstairs near the panel stage that could have easily been utilized.

Aside from that one minor irritant, it was actually a pretty fun con. It seems like it’s been growing steadily over the last couple of years, attracting some high profile guests in a variety of genres. Maybe some day they’ll be able to fill that big empty space in the even center.

Proof is in the pudding

I refuse to acknowledge this dumb “holiday” today, so rest assured there will be no mention of love or flowers or romance.

Okay, I totally lied. There may be a little bit of love. Of the fictious variety.

Local awesome guy and publicist for Fantagraphics, Eric Reynolds, jokingly threw in his name as a potential father of a daughter of a certain fallen hero to white trash around the world (I cannot bring the name to my lips for fear of my internal rage).

Seattlest, a blog recounting local news, responded. My only explination is that the excess in coffee consumption makes us a bit jumpy. And hilarious.

25 Years

A quarter century is a long damn time to be doing any one thing, especially in this day and age. A career is no longer a lifelong commitment, marriages end in divorce more often than not, and technology moves so quickly that the brilliant achievement of yesterday becomes the dimestore novelty of tomorrow.

So perhaps it’s a good idea to mark the 25th anniversary of Jaime and Gilbert (and occasionally Mario) Hernandez’s work on the iconic alternative comic book series, Love & Rockets, with just a little bit of pomp. And since Fantagraphics has been with the boys since the beginning (excluding the earliest, self-published issues), who better to help them celebrate?

The Fantagraphics retail store in Seattle was the site of two Love & Rockets events this weekend, starting with a reception party on Saturday night, and followed up with a panel discussion, Q&A session, and book signing this afternoon.

Saturday’s reception was jam-packed. It was a crowd that spanned generations, from original fans of the book to new readers just discovering the series. Jaime and Gilbert were obviously the center of attention, hanging out near the central table to sign books and chat with fans. There was also a gallery of original artwork from the comics on display on the wall, with Jaime showcasing a selection of pages from throughout his career, and Gilbert focusing on his recent project, New Tales of Old Palomar. The artwork will remain up until March 7, for those interested in seeing it, and I’d highly recommend checking it out if you’re in the area.

Of course, all the old familiar Love & Rockets material was in stock and prominently displayed for the event, from the original magazine sized issues, to the collected books, and the newer comic-sized issues of Volume 2. But there was also a limited edition screen-printed poster, featuring artwork by both brothers, in black red and transparent inks, and also the first two volumes of the newly revised collection of the first series, titled Maggie the Mechanic and Heartbreak Soup. The new volumes are larger than the “manga-like” size I was expecting, closer to 2/3 of the size of the old collections, but much thicker. They’re also organized much differently, with each of the first two volumes focusing on one brother each, which should make the series easier to pick up for newcomers.

After a couple of free High Lifes, some signatures, and some spot-the-cartoonist (we noticed Jim Woodring in attendance), we headed home, anticipating the next days panel.

We showed up early, which turned out to be a good idea, since there were only 8 chairs set up when we arrives. Turns out that’s all the chairs there would be. Early comers mingled and browsed for a while, before quickly settling in, leaving those who showed up afterwards to stand around the perimeter and near the door of the store.

The panel discussion, moderated by Fantagraphics founder Gary Groth, kicked off shortly after 1:00. Over the next hour, the Bros. reflected on the history of their comic, their working methods, and any other topic that came up. One of the first questions was about the way their work affected each other. Jaime said that seeing Beto working at his best motivated him to step up his own game when he needed to, and Beto thought that relying on the quality of Jaime’s work to carry half the comic meant that he could tackle material he might not try on his own.

They also spoke a little bit about working outside of Fantagraphics. Jaime recently had a series of one-page strips published in the New York Times Magazine, a job he almost turned down. Groth convinced him to tackle the project though, and after struggling with what to say to audience of 1 million readers, decided to give them what he’s best at: a story about Maggie Chascarillo. Scheduling proved difficult, and Jaime ended up requesting 2 extra weeks finish his story. When that turned out to be impossible, he ended it more quickly than he would have liked. But a longer version will appear in the next collected volume, with more pages and the swearing put back in.

Beto has also worked in other venues, most notably on limited run books and graphic novels for Dark Horse and DC/Vertigo. The major difference in his experience was with editorial control; not so much struggling over content, but just procedural differences, like having to submit a multi page plot outline to DC in advance. This differs quite a bit from Groth’s editorial style, which seems to be more hands-off, and rely on the artist’s desire to tell their own story in their own way.

One man asked about how their writing and drawing processes intertwined, and how strictly the stories were written before being drawn. Both of them seemed to prefer working from a loose plot idea, or even just a setting, and figuring out the story as it’s drawn, knowing what direction it needs to head in. Jaime even felt like he knew his characters well enough that he could just put them in a situation and they would write the story for him in some ways.

Their day to day lives as cartoonists came up in passing, with Jaime mentioning that a lot of people he knows don’t know what he does, and he dreads having to explain it and field questions from people who think he’s an animator or something.

Another guest wondered if there would ever be a Birdland 2 (referring to Beto’s erotic comic book), but Beto seemed to feel like he’d done what he wanted to do with that book, and he didn’t want to draw pornographic material just as a way to make quick cash, like many older artists seem to end up doing (Wally Wood was mentioned specifically at this point). Groth also reminded Beto that he’d complained about being tired of drawing anuses at the time.

I’m working from memory, so there’s plenty of interesting bits from the panel that I’m probably forgetting, but those are some of the ones that stuck out in my mind at least. It was nice to see that even after 25 years and mounds of critical praise, both of them remain pretty humble about their work. They seem both pleasantly surprised, and rather grateful to have the opportunity to make their living drawing material based on their own lives and interests, on their own terms. Hopefully that attitude will carry them well in their second twenty five years.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda

I had every intention of running home from the MOME exhibit opening last Saturday, but something distracted me. The damage room held a piece of gold I’ve been trying to find for a while: Schizo #1. Ivan Brunetti and his indiosyncratic musings have held me captive, so apologies to the Fantagraphics crew for not singing your praises immediately after your event.Okay, so onto the opening….

We didn’t expect a big crowd, for several reasons. As Eric Reynolds mentioned, the Seahawks game thwarted any potential non-nerd attendence. Secondly, MOME isn’t very well known outside of the niche market that enjoys independent comic anthologies. And third, not everyone can be as dedicated as Dylan and I are to attending openings where the artists are not publicized as being there. I’m not sure what this says about us, but I digress.

It’s no secret to any reader who has paid attention to our posts during the past year and a half that I am borderline crazy about John Pham. Once I entered the room, I beelined it for the gallery wall, which was partially guarded by an enviable court, including Fantagraphics own Rhea Patton.

To kill some time while waiting for the crowd holding John Pham’s originals hostage to break up, I snuck some photos of some of the gorgeous originals that here displayed.

(clockwise) Jeffrey Brown, Sophie Crumb, Jonathan Bennett

Martin Cendreda

Finally victory was mine, and I was able to plant myself in front of Pham’s artwork and drink it in. It was lovely, and all I have is this crappy photo to show for it.

If you live in or near Seattle, you should really check out this lovely art. Even if you don’t like comics, I think there is something to appreciate on all levels. From Andrice Arp’s beautiful full color piece to the pen sketches of Anders Nilsen, there is plenty to enjoy.

Fantagraphics Grand Opening

Never let it be said that we here at Successless would miss out on a party. Especially not one that has comics, cartoonists, art, artists, music and beer. Double especially if it’s only a 15 minute drive away.

So, with that in mind, we absolutely had to make it back down to the Georgetown neighborhood of Seattle for the official grand opening of the Fantagraphics Books retail store, which happily coincided with the Georgetown art walk, and a gallery opening at Belle & Wissell promoting the new book Beasts! Nevermind that we had already hit up the soft opening a month earlier. This time, there would be beer!

The event was scheduled to kick off at 5pm, so we rolled in at a fashionably late 6pm. And boy were we surprised by the turnout! There was already an overflow crowd on the sidewalk out front, and plenty of crossover traffic between the store and the nearby galleries. Getting inside was easy enough, but moving around once inside proved difficult. It was packed, wall-to-wall, with a wide range of folks, from kids there with their parents, to young hipsters soaking in the atmosphere, to older aficionados digging for rare books. The counter staff (which usually consisted of one person) looked happy, bordering on overwhelmed, as I’m not sure they were expecting this kind of turnout.

The store itself was mostly in the same state as it was for the soft opening, just a little more polished and tweaked. The plain banner in the window was replaced with permanent vinyl graphics, based on Daniel Clowes artwork. The side wall was adorned with a selection of original art from Peter Bagge, R. Crumb, Jaime Hernandez, Chris Ware, and others, tastefully presented behind plexiglass. The damaged room had a larger inventory, including out-of-print comics (like Penny Century #3, which I was happy to finally find).

We hung around and shopped for a little while, bumping elbows with Ellen Forney, Andrice Arp and Kaz Strzepek (who chatted with us or a while), among others. When it got a little too claustrophobic (and we finished our complementary beers), we made our way over to the gallery to check out the Beasts exhibit. The space was small but elegant, with original artwork hanging on one wall, an interactive projection of pages from the book on the opposite side, and a beautiful diorama on the bookshelf, next to a selection of small-press art books. They were playing a mix of minimal techno from the upstairs staff area/DJ booth, which fit the modern design of the space quite well.

Back at the Fantagraphics store, local band The Rheas played a quick set of synth-laced indie pop, with store counterperson Rhea Patterson on drums. It was around 8 at this point, and the crowd showed no sign of thinning out yet, but we decided to take our leave. It was great to see such a large, diverse turnout for a comic store opening, though. I never would have guessed that even an institution like Fantagraphics could have pulled it off, with the economic state of the artform as it is. But I’m definitely happy to be proven wrong.

Successless loves you

And your Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrains
(Someone took this during the Seattle Zombie walk on Sunday - peek at the group pics if you want)

Happy Halloween everybody!

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