Nolan T. Jones is Tumbling Down

Tr!ckster Book Review #2: The Art Workshop

During each Trickster symposium Scott Morse thanked the participants for their investment in the event and in themselves, stating that he liked to view each session as something of a “hardcover book”.  In addition to several postings spinning out of free events, the space of Trickster, and ideas from this past weekend I will share both the contents of each “book” and a “book review” for each of the five workshops I attended.*

In the days leading up to Trickster I told friends that I anticipated being “around Comic Con a little more than at Comic Con” due to the event.  When they asked me what that meant, I talked about my expectations for small panels with questions and answers that I could gear towards my budding career as a writer, specifically of comics.  But I tried not to think about the session that I had, in my opinion, no business going to.  The one that made me feel a little guilty for attending. 

The one about ILLUSTRATING comics.

There were about thirty people signed up for the session and as we came into the room that just half an hour earlier had served as a lecture hall, the space had fully changed into a nest.  Two large tables, covered in paper, were arranged with artists and their tools moving to sit down.  Scott Morse encouraged us to come and take any seat, be willing to move to get a view and ask questions.

It would be impossible to attempt to describe everything that happened in the next two hours as so much happened simultaneously.  I will try to offer as much as I can towards the happenings around the table, but I must digress that for the better part of the session I was sitting across from Fabio Moon.

 
Jim Mahfood, Dave Crosland, and Fabio Moon sharing their work.

In order to be a more engaging read, I will ATTEMPT to “quote” Fabio’s interactions.  I didn’t record the session, I didn’t take any notes.  This is simply how I remember the FEELING of the passion he was offering to the table.

Fabio began drawing an older looking man from the shoulders up with a pen.

“Do you usually work with a pen?” someone asked.

“No, I’m doing this to make a point.”  He soon got out a small brush and went to work.  “With a brush I can better control the lines. I can roll the brush—” he said, warping the stroke into something that immediately began to take on style, “—and add feeling to the lines.”  He went on to finish the old man in brush strokes next to his original pen work.  He smiled as he passed the piece around.  “See the difference?”

He began to draw a young woman, at one point knocking over some ink in the bustle of the table.  “Comics are messy.  You will get dirty making comics.”  He looked around for a moment for something to wipe off the ink, and was passed a paper towel.  He wiped off a bit of the ink, and stopped, cocking his head to look at the picture in front of him.  His ink stained thumb pressed to the page again and again to form a feathered background for the female.  “It’s okay to get dirty.”

Soon someone asked if he did much work digitally.

“No.  Computers are not for making the comics I make.  When you use a computer, someone else can do that.  When you use your hands, only you can do that.”  He commented on each of the people in the room— “Jim’s drawing over there.  He is the ONLY one who can do that.”  However, he added in regards to working with computers, “Sometimes I color digitally.  But even that— recently I worked with a light box to color.”  He pointed out that with Dave Stewart around, though, he didn’t often have to worry about colors.

Another person inquired as to if he used his iPad for sketching.  

“I only use this for showing work.  I don’t use it to make comics.”  He showed a few pieces from his iPad to demonstrate how good a tool it was to display pictures.

At one point Fabio brought out a copy of Terry Moore’s “Rachel Rising”; the book was signed to him by the author with a note of thanks. 

“In this comic, Terry has a woman coming out from being buried underground.  It is horror, but when Terry first showed the preview image, I thought it didn’t show enough HORROR.”

He commented on there being good composition and linework (showing the black and white interior version of the above image), but “not enough black.  So I tried it.”  He flips the book to the back cover where his rendition was displayed.

“All of that black makes it clear this is horror.  Those black trees— THOSE are trees for HORROR.”

Fabio talked about the industry some as he worked, asking people to not get mad at editors.  “Editors need you in order to make comics.  For a long time I knew [a specific editor] at DC Comics.  Loved my work.  But would tell me that this was not what his readers liked.  He liked my work, but he has to give his readers what they want.  But eventually, years later, he moved to Vertigo— THEN he could help me get work and he did.  Remember that editors want to help you.”

Again, none of this can be taken as direct quotation.  It’s simply how my mangled brain remembers it.  I can say, for fact, that more than once Fabio told the table: “I love comics.”

After about an hour and a half of the two hours I realized I had been enchanted and should let someone else take my seat near across from Fabio.  What follows are some observations I managed to take from the room both during my time seated and after I began to float around the room.

Francesco Francavilla spent part of his time working on a page for an adaptation comic of “Immortals”.  His work on the crowded page was expertly staged and he showed the script along with some of the reference pictures for the work. He soon moved to doing what I believe was a Black Panther commission that could have passed for a cover.

Francesco Francavilla explains to Scott Morse his layout.

I did not get nearly enough time to engage with what Jim Mahfood and Dave Crosland were working on.  Jim’s work expanded across the canvas in a way that was always a shock to see progress, and I know Dave was showing pages of something military and jungle based that looked fabulous as he worked.

Jill Thompson at the other end of the table had brought a page of “Beasts of Burden”.  She passed around the page that currently had only pencils and some blue tape on it. 

Once again, I’ll slip into “conversation”.  My apologies for any improperly remembered moments.

“That’s just 90 day painter’s tape you would buy for painting a room,” Jill began.  “I use the 90 day tape for my borders as it’s the most gentle.  I rarely have any problems with getting it off the paper, except sometimes it’s too humid in Chicago.”  The page made its way around the room and back to her.

“The thing about conventions is that there are still deadlines, so we’re going to work on this.”  She immediately jumped into painting the page.  As she worked and the conversation about Francesco’s reference from the “Immortals” script came up, she chimed in about her use of reference.

“I use my phone for reference.  I’m always taking pictures of something I want to remember.  I have so many pictures on my phone, it stops working properly.  My friend who helps me with tech support always tells me ‘you can’t use it like this— you can’t have so much on here.’  But it seems any time I take something off, I need it back on here again.”

Her page develops quickly, with the animals, grass, and blue skies taking shape.

“Obviously we didn’t always have these internet resources for reference.”  She begins to riff off of Francesco’s script including reference.  “When I was working on ‘The Invisibles’ with Grant Morrison he’d have specific references from all the places he’s traveled that he’d point out in the script.  And he’d always promise to send pictures of the reference to me, but they didn’t show up so I’d end up with huge piles of library books.  And fines.”

Jill Thompson works on a page for “Beasts of Burden”.

I learned a great deal from this session.  It wasn’t about exactly what type of pen or brush the artists were using.  In fact, each had lamentations to offer about their favorite tools inevitably being discontinued.  Instead it was about confidence. The willingness to dive into the work of comics, and the ability to communicate with collaborators in order to make an image that communicates with your audience.  If there’s any Tr!ckster experience that felt magical to me, this was it.  I am aware of others that felt they had trouble seeing what was going on, so if this sort of demonstration workshop is to be repeated, perhaps encouraging the rotation of observers would be helpful.  But in my opinion, there is much to be taken from seeing professionals work their craft— no matter your involvement in the creation of comics you must be reminded of the time, effort, and passion that goes into the art.  This was a metaphorical book worth owning— and I will reread the contents in my head for years to come.

As the session’s time ended, Scott Morse stated we needed to leave the room so it could be set up for some evening events.  The artists began collecting their things, and one of the participants looked at the colorful page in front of Jill and asked how much longer she’d have to work on the page.  At this point the characters were fairly clear, the backgrounds bright, and it seemed as if great progress had been made.  Jill began to list off things that needed tightening, separating, correcting…

“At least six hours.”

And I believe I saw her seated outside Tr!ckster the next day still crafting the same page.

*This article was formulated from MY memories— which are not an unbiased source of information.  The main reason I’m writing these “book reports” is so I can properly remember and keep learning… so help me out.  Please feel free to respond, refute, and add to these postings.  I’ll edit this article as needed to add other remembrances and link to other points of view!