graphic novel
Matthew Klane and I performed some tracks from HIST with poets Julie Neely and Robin Lee Jordan on 2/3/23. Such a good turnout and amazing waffles! Thanks for the love Fitz and company!
Robin Lee Jordan
Julia Neely
Photo Courtesy of Robin Lee Jordan
Photo Courtesy of Robin Lee Jordan
“Thicket on the Prarie” Video Courtesy of Robin Lee Jordan
Thanks to Unnameable Books for hosting the HIST soundtrack premiere!
Photo courtesy of Catherine Bresner
Excerpt from “The Rescue of Hist” courtesy of Catherine Bresner
Excerpt from “The Rescue of Hist” courtesy of Catherine Bresner
Check out a new excerpt from Matthew Klane and I’s graphic novel Hist in the new Diagram 22.1. The full graphic novel is forthcoming in Summer 2022 with Calamari Archive. We’ll be designing the cover and writing a score to accompany it in the coming months. Stay tuned!
Earth Day reminded me of a wonderful graphic narrative by Vincent Stall I found lurking on the shelves at a record store in Denver, Colorado a few years ago: Things You Carry (2011). Published by 2D Cloud, an independent Xomics/comics press out of Minneapolis, Minnesota, Things You Carry graphically portrays a wordless, faceless humanoid's quest for connection in an environment as vibrantly alive as it is. The character flows, morphs, and reconfigures its passage through a world on the edge of being overrun by unidentifiable fragments. But the character's quest sidesteps an overt doom and gloom commentary, because it seeks connection with both the astronaut it encounters and the similitude of its body to the gomi of its world.
One of the things I most enjoy about Things You Carry is Stall's transformation of the images and textures of the book into wooden form. In the video below, many of the prints in the book became acrylic paintings on rough particle board or 2X4 sculptures at an installation at CO Exhibitions. Stall's translation process from word to wood is a vivid meditation on vital materialism, and it poses an important question, "when we aestheticize our relationship with the planet, what is the difference between representing the vitality of matter and simply personifying it"? Much of the detritus in Things You Carry self-organizes throughout the book, assembling, reassembling, and proliferating through Stall's detailed sketches into humanoid and nonhuman configurations. The intimacy in these transformative relationships between human and nonhuman in Things You Carry helps me remember the uncanny, exciting, and impersonal moments when the world seems the most alien, and at the same time, the most immanent.
You can buy prints from Things You Carry here.
You can read an interview on Itchy Keen with Vincent Stall here.
You can purchase Things You Carry here.