13 December 2008

Kramers Ergot 7

is LOVELY. Alas, I'm still saving for volume two of Little Nemo in Wonderland, and KE7 is the same size and full colour, so I'm curious to know who is actually able to collect these books, but bless them, and bless Buenaventura and Sunday Press for publishing them.
At the launch for KE7 the other night though, I couldn't help but notice the ratio of contributors that sat on the stage for a presentation/q&a. Six men, one woman. All amazing artists of course, but genderedly-inbalanced (sic) nonetheless.
There was a point in the evening where someone in the audience asked the editor if he had made any enemies during the selection process for the final book. He said yes, and followed it with "I'm not responsible for being the wife, the babysitter, the mother-in-law...." at which point Shari Boyle (the aforementioned female contributor, up on stage) piped up and said "yes, you aren't responsible for being the woman of this book." 
At that moment she officially became my Hero(ine). 

In a further discussion about a seeming rift between fine art and comics, she also brought up something which I had never been able to put a finger upon, but which I believe might very lucidly explicate my fondness for comics in the first place. It is the love of drawing. It was pointed out, that evening, that there is slim to nil room for drawing in the contemporary art world, at least in Toronto. And this is true. I have NO affection for contemporary art in this city, and for ages I have felt like some sort of traitor to cartooning as well, as I do feel some sort of legacy from the fine art department...so it's been an odd sort of placement.

I love drawing, hands down, and there is practically none of it to be found in the "fine art" world. Comics are about drawing. Well. Drawing, writing, books. GLEE!

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