Lilith (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
reflectedeve) wrote2010-07-13 02:01 pm
reflectedeve) wrote2010-07-13 02:01 pm
Entry tags:
you try to move your feet
Come on, my beloved grad school of choice: post your 2011 application guidelines already! I am slow, I want to get started.
On a vaguely related subject, I've been thinking a lot about race, inclusiveness, and clarity of visual representation in art/comics. I would welcome thoughts from other artists - or anyone else, for that matter (so long as you don't dismiss the importance of the subject, which I take seriously).
I should note from the start that while I'm going to begin with some broad background, this isn't really a comprehensive piece of social commentary - I'm interested in comparing notes from a creative perspective, and have been pondering how best to improve inclusiveness within my own work. (Criticism of my approach, as well as the content of the post, is definitely welcome. This is an area of privilege for me.)
So there's been all this recent discussion about the visual style of Avatar: The Last Airbender, during which some fans kept insisting that they read some of the characters (notably Aang) as white; something I continue to find absurd, because even in the absence of anything approaching photo-realistic facial features, the obvious cultural elements that surround those characters very clearly indicate Asian and Inuit identities. While I don't feel equipped to do in-depth analysis of cartoon (or anime, though I don't consider AtLA anime) styles on a purely art-based level, there's little doubt in my mind that AtLA does an excellent and respectful job of portraying characters of color. I note that the people who question this, as far as I've seen, tend to be the same people who dismiss the importance of such portrayals in the first place.
This is the most recent, relevant example of this issue I can think of; in general, it's something I look for more and more in the media I consume, as well as an important area to concentrate on when planning my own work. A couple years ago, I read this interview with Cecil Castellucci, who wrote The Plain Janes for DC Comics' short-lived Minx imprint. This portion stuck out to me:
I also read this blog post, which takes issue with Castellucci's claims with regard to portraying characters of color, and which rang true for me. Once I read Castellucci's comments in the interview, I could "see" the ethnicity of Polly Jane and Theater Jane, but I had not picked up on them during my first (admittedly brief; I found it less than engaging) read-through of the comic. Moreover, I found Castellucci's almost flippant commentary on the matter off-putting, her professed commitment to diversity unconvincing.
The blogger, Avalon's Willow, says towards the end of her post: "[j]ust making it clear, you can be all for diversity as much as you want. You can claim to be trying to walk the walk, but nothing's showing." For her (and for me), Jim Rugg's art didn't adequately communicate the characters' ethnicities, and Castellucci's writing certainly didn't add anything to help flesh out those aspects of their identities.
In comics, writing and art both need to communicate effectively, or the story becomes muddled and the characters ill-defined. I think it's fairly obvious (from the above examples, and many more), that as far as the writing goes, it's very important to put in the time and effort to really flesh out your characters (even if you wind up with lots of background material that you won't explicitly use); to understand their histories and cultural heritage, and the way these things affect their lives and actions, even when they are not the focus of the story. (Avalon's Willow asks Castellucci: "Just which Asian culture does this Jane call her own? Is she Japanese, Korean, Taiwanese, Chinese, Chinese - Mongolian, or from the Philippines? Do you even know?") While this is obviously a complex, difficult, and extremely important point, for the moment, I'd like to turn my focus to art/visual representation, because I've seen a lot less discussion in this area.
As I noted above, I did not read Rugg's art of those two Janes as it was apparently intended to be read, and I was not alone in this experience. This has been a chronic problem in more mainstream titles: around the time of the Avalon's Willow post about The Plain Janes, there had been a notable series of DC Comics covers (I believe they were primarily Justice League covers) on which Vixen, an African character, had been given an incorrect, very light skin tone. There was a great deal of discussion at the time as to whether or not this had been a colorist error - which seemed less and less likely as it continued to occur - and whether that would make the whitewashing any less problematic anyway (not so much). I've seen discussion of other DC characters of color, such as Connor Hawke, Cassandra Cain, Talia Al Ghul and Damian Wayne, being repeatedly whitewashed (whether intentionally or not).
Inclusiveness is important, but it doesn't count for much if many/most readers can't see it - if people of color can't tell that they're supposedly being included.
As an aspiring cartoonist, I feel compelled to look at all of this in the context of my own future work, and how I might aspire to do better. In looking for role models, I also tend to particularly examine artists with styles and approaches closer to my own.
I'm a huge fan of Alison Bechdel's work; I discovered Dykes To Watch Out For in high school and read it voraciously right up until its end/hiatus. I also have a copy of The Indelible Alison Bechdel, which was extremely inspirational to budding-cartoonist me, though I haven't flipped through it in a few years. (I should, now that my books are all nicely shelved.) I can't even paraphrase--it's been too long--but I remember her making a note of her choice not to shade in the skin of her characters of color.
DTWOF, like most of my own work, is done entirely in black inks (no computer shading; none of the watercolor washes she employs in Fun Home), and trying to shade something as important/complex as someone's face with tiny black lines is extremely difficult and tends to make the art a lot less legible. Instead, she focuses carefully on detailing a variety of facial features, hair styles, etc, in order to convey ethnicity respectfully and accurately. I've always been impressed with her skill in this area (particularly in later volumes), and early on (well before I'd done even the basic 101 self-education I've done now) made a more-or-less conscious decision to emulate it. However, I'm obviously seeing the whole issue from my own privileged, white perspective. I haven't encountered any criticism of her approach thus far, but that doesn't mean it's not out there.
The anthology comic that I completed a couple weeks ago was focused on my own family (unnamed and in a fictional setting), but contained an African-American doctor character who appeared in three panels. I did not shade her skin, although I attempted to portray her ethnicity in a visible and respectful manner. (There's room for improvement there: this method requires effort and genuine care, as well as practice, of course.) When my boss asked to see my work, she did make a positive and unsolicited comment about my portrayal, which I appreciated, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder if this method is good enough.
As I approach future projects (notably a longer concept with an as-yet undeveloped fictional cast), I could always try integrating, say, elements of grayscale computer shading. (It's not that I've never tried shading skin with my pens - here's an example - but I don't find it satisfactory or practicable for more frequent use, particularly in small panels which are easily muddled. Comics above all must communicate.) Or I could keep trying to emulate Bechdel. I'm not particularly interested in working in full color, thus far.
There's a great deal more to racial and cultural inclusiveness than skin color and facial features, but I believe these things are important - mine is a visual medium, and while well-researched writing is important, so is what you see at a glance. I'm curious as to what methods and approaches other artists and creators have taken - and in any thoughts on the shading issue, which is very specific, but which I've been particularly uncertain about.
On a vaguely related subject, I've been thinking a lot about race, inclusiveness, and clarity of visual representation in art/comics. I would welcome thoughts from other artists - or anyone else, for that matter (so long as you don't dismiss the importance of the subject, which I take seriously).
I should note from the start that while I'm going to begin with some broad background, this isn't really a comprehensive piece of social commentary - I'm interested in comparing notes from a creative perspective, and have been pondering how best to improve inclusiveness within my own work. (Criticism of my approach, as well as the content of the post, is definitely welcome. This is an area of privilege for me.)
So there's been all this recent discussion about the visual style of Avatar: The Last Airbender, during which some fans kept insisting that they read some of the characters (notably Aang) as white; something I continue to find absurd, because even in the absence of anything approaching photo-realistic facial features, the obvious cultural elements that surround those characters very clearly indicate Asian and Inuit identities. While I don't feel equipped to do in-depth analysis of cartoon (or anime, though I don't consider AtLA anime) styles on a purely art-based level, there's little doubt in my mind that AtLA does an excellent and respectful job of portraying characters of color. I note that the people who question this, as far as I've seen, tend to be the same people who dismiss the importance of such portrayals in the first place.
This is the most recent, relevant example of this issue I can think of; in general, it's something I look for more and more in the media I consume, as well as an important area to concentrate on when planning my own work. A couple years ago, I read this interview with Cecil Castellucci, who wrote The Plain Janes for DC Comics' short-lived Minx imprint. This portion stuck out to me:
KH: You’ve mentioned that it was important to you that the Janes have different body types. The dramatic Jane is distinctly solid, and sports lover Polly Jane is tall and thin, for example. However, though there are several characters of colour in the crowd scenes, the main characters all seem to read as white. Was this intentional?
CC: Well, Polly Jane is Latina and Theater Jane is Asian.
KH: Wow, I totally didn’t read that at all.
CC: Yep. That’s why PJ has the Frida Kahlo look. And Theater Jane, totally Asian.
In book two, Janes in Love there is a lot more diversity. (It is something that is equally important to me as body types)
KH: The reason I ask the question is because a friend of mine pointed this out to me and she was upset, because to her the art read white white white.
[...]
KH: Well, I’m glad, but honestly, looking at these pages right now, I would never have seen it if you hadn’t just said.
CC: That’s so sad! Another thing I worked really hard on! Maybe had it been color it would have been easier to spot.
I also read this blog post, which takes issue with Castellucci's claims with regard to portraying characters of color, and which rang true for me. Once I read Castellucci's comments in the interview, I could "see" the ethnicity of Polly Jane and Theater Jane, but I had not picked up on them during my first (admittedly brief; I found it less than engaging) read-through of the comic. Moreover, I found Castellucci's almost flippant commentary on the matter off-putting, her professed commitment to diversity unconvincing.
The blogger, Avalon's Willow, says towards the end of her post: "[j]ust making it clear, you can be all for diversity as much as you want. You can claim to be trying to walk the walk, but nothing's showing." For her (and for me), Jim Rugg's art didn't adequately communicate the characters' ethnicities, and Castellucci's writing certainly didn't add anything to help flesh out those aspects of their identities.
In comics, writing and art both need to communicate effectively, or the story becomes muddled and the characters ill-defined. I think it's fairly obvious (from the above examples, and many more), that as far as the writing goes, it's very important to put in the time and effort to really flesh out your characters (even if you wind up with lots of background material that you won't explicitly use); to understand their histories and cultural heritage, and the way these things affect their lives and actions, even when they are not the focus of the story. (Avalon's Willow asks Castellucci: "Just which Asian culture does this Jane call her own? Is she Japanese, Korean, Taiwanese, Chinese, Chinese - Mongolian, or from the Philippines? Do you even know?") While this is obviously a complex, difficult, and extremely important point, for the moment, I'd like to turn my focus to art/visual representation, because I've seen a lot less discussion in this area.
As I noted above, I did not read Rugg's art of those two Janes as it was apparently intended to be read, and I was not alone in this experience. This has been a chronic problem in more mainstream titles: around the time of the Avalon's Willow post about The Plain Janes, there had been a notable series of DC Comics covers (I believe they were primarily Justice League covers) on which Vixen, an African character, had been given an incorrect, very light skin tone. There was a great deal of discussion at the time as to whether or not this had been a colorist error - which seemed less and less likely as it continued to occur - and whether that would make the whitewashing any less problematic anyway (not so much). I've seen discussion of other DC characters of color, such as Connor Hawke, Cassandra Cain, Talia Al Ghul and Damian Wayne, being repeatedly whitewashed (whether intentionally or not).
Inclusiveness is important, but it doesn't count for much if many/most readers can't see it - if people of color can't tell that they're supposedly being included.
As an aspiring cartoonist, I feel compelled to look at all of this in the context of my own future work, and how I might aspire to do better. In looking for role models, I also tend to particularly examine artists with styles and approaches closer to my own.
I'm a huge fan of Alison Bechdel's work; I discovered Dykes To Watch Out For in high school and read it voraciously right up until its end/hiatus. I also have a copy of The Indelible Alison Bechdel, which was extremely inspirational to budding-cartoonist me, though I haven't flipped through it in a few years. (I should, now that my books are all nicely shelved.) I can't even paraphrase--it's been too long--but I remember her making a note of her choice not to shade in the skin of her characters of color.
DTWOF, like most of my own work, is done entirely in black inks (no computer shading; none of the watercolor washes she employs in Fun Home), and trying to shade something as important/complex as someone's face with tiny black lines is extremely difficult and tends to make the art a lot less legible. Instead, she focuses carefully on detailing a variety of facial features, hair styles, etc, in order to convey ethnicity respectfully and accurately. I've always been impressed with her skill in this area (particularly in later volumes), and early on (well before I'd done even the basic 101 self-education I've done now) made a more-or-less conscious decision to emulate it. However, I'm obviously seeing the whole issue from my own privileged, white perspective. I haven't encountered any criticism of her approach thus far, but that doesn't mean it's not out there.
The anthology comic that I completed a couple weeks ago was focused on my own family (unnamed and in a fictional setting), but contained an African-American doctor character who appeared in three panels. I did not shade her skin, although I attempted to portray her ethnicity in a visible and respectful manner. (There's room for improvement there: this method requires effort and genuine care, as well as practice, of course.) When my boss asked to see my work, she did make a positive and unsolicited comment about my portrayal, which I appreciated, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder if this method is good enough.
As I approach future projects (notably a longer concept with an as-yet undeveloped fictional cast), I could always try integrating, say, elements of grayscale computer shading. (It's not that I've never tried shading skin with my pens - here's an example - but I don't find it satisfactory or practicable for more frequent use, particularly in small panels which are easily muddled. Comics above all must communicate.) Or I could keep trying to emulate Bechdel. I'm not particularly interested in working in full color, thus far.
There's a great deal more to racial and cultural inclusiveness than skin color and facial features, but I believe these things are important - mine is a visual medium, and while well-researched writing is important, so is what you see at a glance. I'm curious as to what methods and approaches other artists and creators have taken - and in any thoughts on the shading issue, which is very specific, but which I've been particularly uncertain about.