Quoth Slavoj Zizek: “True art has nothing whatsoever to do with disgusting emotional exhibitionism.” The Slovenian philosopher-provocateur may have found much to dismiss at the Chicago Alternative Comics Expo (CAKE), where earnest expressions set off by poignant design choices were on proud display from wall to wall, presented with disarming and/or cloying plainspokenness. “And if 80 tables chocked full of the greatest comics being made today is not enough for you (jeesh, really?),” the press release exclaims, “our Slate of programming presents 14 events that range from conversation to presentation to demonstration to documentation.” Indeed, it was an enormous and well-programmed affair, and this urgently casual tone, while it reminds one of the new “aw, snap!” informality infiltrating internet commerce, is, I feel, forgivable.
Forgivable ultimately because, despite the forced lack of guile, there’s absolutely no misrepresentation. Chicago art-comics virtuosos were on hand, like Lille Carre, Grant Reynolds, Anya Davidson, Anders Nilsen, and Edie Fake, (a primary CAKE organizer), all of whom generate delicately crafted works that invest personal experiences with shimmering magical nostalgia. Local publication The Land Line, and the freeform comics-based collaborative (one might even say improvisational) endeavors Brain Frame and Trubble Club, were all broadcasting their effervescent brand of playful artistic interchange. And their compatriots from around the U.S. (and Canada, the CAKE promo reminds us, “woooooooooo”) echoed the same kind of jubilant communitarian introversion. From table to table, whether it was small publishers, identity-based projects, creative collectives, or individual creators (with plenty of gray areas in between), everyone was thoroughly congenial, sincerely happy to talk about their books, their art, or anything related to small-press comics or indie print culture. I made it to two panels– one on the Chicago comics scene, and one on queer comics anthologies, both of which were lighthearted, enthusiastic, and informative.
Zizek also said that “culture is the name of a belief which is no longer taken seriously.” While he rejects the notion that at any point there were more “authentic” forms of belief, it does seem reasonable to look at the massive production of “culture” today, especially in a grassroots milieu like comics, as the place where devotion can be focused, without the embarrassment of commitment (embarrassment being, for Zizek, the original source of culture). But the unfortunate formal shortcomings of some confessional artwork is compensated for in the collective act of goodwill required for a congregation of gifted reflective aesthetes to create a fun and memorable celebration of pleasant, occasionally provocative fantasies- right here in Chicago, an important center for independent comics and animation.
Illustration from Rebecca Mir’s Apostrophe in the Ocean, which debuted at CAKE.
The comics industry, the publishing industry, and the convention industry are all on the cusp of a great change due to shifting priorities, new formats, and new audiences. Can the three use work together to confront these challenges? Based on my attendance at Book Expo America, the country’s leading publishing exhibition, I would say that the answer is “no.”
At the June 6 convention, organizers seemed more concerned with extracting as much money from vendors as possible via exorbitant exhibition fees than in providing a sensible layout. Comic companies, though smartly grouped together for the most part, were located nowhere near the Children’s Pavilion. And yet, the majority of the librarians I’ve encountered outside of larger cities still continue to view graphic novels as a format for children and reserve them for children’s libraries. In bookstores, graphic novels often provide a buffer between the rapidly growing Young Adult section and Science Fiction. Though some comics creators may bristle at the suggestion, wouldn’t it have been best to place comic companies near the Children’s Pavilion—the very place librarians and book buyers would expect them to be? Placing them against the back wall and far from high traffic areas gave the signal that comic companies are not a priority. Why should those comic companies want to spend large sums of money to return? Poor service combined with high fees may hurt BEA in the long run as vendors begin to reconsider the necessity of the event.
Comic companies on the whole—perhaps too familiar with comic conventions–did not seem to fully recognize their status as miniscule fish in a massive pond. Displays were mostly limited to a selection of wares. The lack of a “hard sell” was completely evident. In every instance, I had to approach representatives and speak to them first about products—or even say “Hello.” While this is not an issue in a comic convention full of rabid fans, it very much is one in a convention full of disinterested buyers. One cannot afford to be aloof. However, once approached, many reps were friendly and knowledgeable.
Here’s a brief assessment of the comics booths I visited.
Fantagraphics: This company possessed the best location (strangely nestled in a section full of academic publishers) and the most stylish booth—complete with seating! It also had an extensive set of galleys to peruse and provided free sample books to those who had questions. Eric Reynolds even took the time to help a lapsed reader like me sort through the intricate history of Love and Rockets, which was greatly appreciated! I was highly impressed.
Image: I was also pleased with Image. The booth, though in a lackluster location, was well stocked with a wide array of free comics and had friendly creators behind the booth signing wares. Jennifer De Guzman even took the time with me to help pick out a selection of comics for a coworker’s young son.
BOOM!: Free wares were not available, which I feel was a tremendous mistake. Instead, I was offered a checklist of recent and upcoming graphic novels. While this is very useful to a fan, what would a buyer want with a list of books he is not familiar with? What librarian would take the time to stand and read several comics at a booth?
Marvel: Marvel did not have a separate booth and was inadequately represented by Disney. I was shocked by how poorly staffed and stocked the booth was given the wealth of the company, the bulk of content available, and the amount of exhibition space purchased. I picked up a pamphlet advertising a “Marvel book, magazine, and app program for young readers”—no backlist, no Masterworks, and no material geared toward adults or teens available. The impression was given that Marvel merely produced products for young children featuring traditional icons. The lack of a diversity of titles was disappointing.
DC: DC had no booth available on the exhibition floor; instead it made due with two autograph sessions—one by Scott Snyder, author of Batman Vol. 1: The Court of Owls and another by Peter Tomasi, author of Batman & Robin Vol. 1: Born to Kill. While pushing well-known creators is a wise move at an event now dominated by celebrities, the lack of a booth was a huge misstep. And given that both authors signed books featuring Batman, there was a drastic lack of diversity.
However, comics and graphic novels were not limited to the exhibition floor. I attended Heidi MacDonald’s fabulous panel showcasing monumental works of 2012. Prior to the panel, a small survey sheet was provided to members of the audience, presumably to obtain basic information regarding audience demographics. I am very curious to know who attended the fairly populated event and hope that MacDonald releases that information at a later date. Though light on mass market, heroic fare, MacDonald and her peers seemed to know their audience and cater to it, providing a listfeaturing critical darlings and charming children’s books for an educated urban audience. Two popular examples include Alison Bechdel’s Are You My Mother?: A Comic Drama and A Trip to the Bottom of the World with Mouse by Frank Viva. (The list was about quality, not commerce. Still, had I been a book buyer I might have preferred a collection of mainstream books that would sell extremely well to a suburban audience. There is no point in stocking one’s shelves with only Nabokov when customers want Fifty Shades of Gray. Give ‘em the thwip! There’s no shame in a little bit of spandex.
Perhaps even more interesting than the books on display were the rumors swirling about the show floor. Will next year’s exhibition be open to the general public? Will smaller vendors displeased with poor foot traffic avoid next year’s show? I could easily see BEA falling prey to the crass commercialism that consumed SDCC and E3. Though it would mean more money for Reed Exhibitions, it would not necessarily make for a more enjoyable show. Still, a four-day show featuring a renovated floor plan, with Thursday and Friday reserved for those in the industry and the weekend open to the general public, would serve the needs of all via a sizable audience and a variety of exhibitors.
It’s that season again. Events related to comics, manga and related entertainment are happening all over the world even as we speak.
Big and small, these events have several things in common – fans, many of whom are not otherwise social creatures, gather to share their love of a niche form of entertainment. If you’re used to American events, you’re used to mob scenes, long lines while people lounge around, sit on the ground…even pitch tents while waiting and general chaos caused by people swinging giant weapons in crowded spaces. People push past one another, run through the halls carrying large bags and props and shove and crowd their way to popular vendor tables.
In stark contrast, at the largest comic event in Japan – the twice-a-year Comiket, held at Tokyo Big Sight, there are distinct, mostly unwritten, rules of etiquette. Some of these are to allow for crowd management, some are simply built up over years of attendees acting politely and considerately.
This year I was also able to attend a small convention in The Netherlands, Yaoi and Yuri Con. With a few hundred people, crushing lines were not going to be a problem, and etiquette was more or less, “don’t be a jerk.” The gap between these events seems almost insurmountable, until you scratch a little past the surface. So today, I want to talk about the Big and the Small of anime/manga fandom. Let’s start with the Big.
Personally, I only go to Winter Comiket. Big Sight is open on the sides, so even if it is a cold day, Comiket provides a warm coat of people. I cannot imagine how sticky and smelly Summer Comiket must be and I hope to never know. Basically, there are so many people at this event, that I commonly refer to it as “a ride made of people.”
There is nothing at any American event even remotely approaching the crowd management at a show like Comiket, which reportedly gets 200,000 people in the building at one time, and probably gets close to 500K a day, over three days. Here is a time-lapse video of the line one day at Comiket. Dawn arrives at about 1:25, so you can see the way the line is organized and Comiket opens at about 2:00.
People are shepherded into blocks; the blocks are moved forward around and through the plaza that surrounds Big Sight. People coming out of the Ariake train station are walked out and around/behind the Big Sight area, so as not to interfere with existing blocks. Even at peak waiting times, the blocks are moved efficiently – we have never waited more than about an hour to get in. Signage and volunteers move people efficiently and there is very little standing around aimlessly wondering why nothing is happening.
Line etiquette is important at Comiket, because most of what one does all day is walk, then stand in line. People attend Japanese comic events to buy comics and limited goods sold by the companies. If one wants to get official series goods, one has to line up on special lines that go to the corporate level – they begin on the side of Big Sight, not in the front. Blocks are moved in from those lines outside to stand in another line that winds its way up to the booth itself.
If one is not interested in the corporate booths (that is, there’s no rare goods one simply *must* have) then one walks up the stairs and into the front entrance:
When you come out of the tunnel, to the left are the East Halls and to the right are the West Halls.
The East Halls are like this:
There are two sets of three Halls, on one side are Halls 1-3 and the other have 4-6, each of which is Airplane hangar sized.
The West Halls are three sides around a square:
In the middle of the square is the escalator one takes to visit the Cosplay area, which is separated from the Halls, so one does not get beaned in the head by unwieldy props. At Comiket, there are specific rules around not coming to Big Sight dressed in costume, where changing rooms are located and what times attendees are allowed to cosplay.
These rules are only partially followed and one can often seen vendors coming in partial or full costume. The last year we saw more cosplay wandering around the halls than in previous years.
Also notable were the presence of people who talked in line. If you’ve ever attended a western event, you are used to the constant background level of noise that being around several thousand chattering enthusiasts create. For years, on a Comiket line – especially outside lines – it was so quiet you could hear the click of phone buttons texting. This last winter we were surrounded by people talking in line, and even saw a Comiket date or two. It was a nice slide into a less ordered world for Comiket; this addition of “social” to an otherwise seemingly solitary pursuit.
Comiket is not a “convention” in the way most fans think of it. It is a selling event, where 10,000 vendors park themselves for 6 hours in order to sell derivative, transformational and original comic works, DVDs, games, and other related media. People line up to purchase, and possibly to praise, to ask when the next collected volume comes out, if the artist is a pro, or to simply show support in the most universal way possible – by handing over money. At its heart, Comiket is about creation of work, and appreciation for that work.
Now, for the small – Yaoi and Yuri Con (YaYCon) was held in a music venue, Atak, in Enschede, The Netherlands.
There were two stages for events and the Dealer’s Room was a collection of tables in the lobby, while the Artists’ Alley was in the basement hallway. They screened some anime, but the focus was, as it so often is with western cons, participation. Cosplayers wander the halls freely, without the space/time limits of Comiket, often clumping in front of exits in response to some universal human behavior.
The Dealer’s Room is only as popular as the rarity of the items in it – people are more likely to invest money in discounted books or unusually difficult to find goods or, even better, in custom artwork from the Artists’ Alley, rather than just buy what manga or anime is for sale. Online shopping has changed the dynamic for buying anime and manga and streaming is whittling away at what is left of that. A savvy dealer brings what cannot be found elsewhere, or goes home with a lot of stock. Since doujinshi, small or self-published comics, often cannot be purchased online, events are the place to buy these, just as at Comiket. Dutch fans seem to be particularly motivated to create original works. Even at and event of this size, there were a number of groups creating original works.
Comiket does have some panels, but they are not the focus of the event. There are a few behind-the-scenes meetings, as well. Western cons, relying as they do on fan participation, spend more time on panels and workshops. At YaYCon I was invited to do a lecture on Yuri. The lecture was packed, which is to say about 30 people. But, would they get my lecture, full of Japanese terms, American slang and the occasional polysyllabic words? Oh, yeah, no problem – they laughed in all the right places. ^_^ We followed this up later with a panel of Yuri manga that is currently or soon to be available in multiple languages; English, French, German, Polish and Italian.
YaYCon presents itself not only as a Yaoi and Yuri convention, but a LGBTQ friendly space. The dynamic of the attendees were open to all representations of all sexuality, with none of the expected intolerance of other people’s fetishes one sometimes runs into at American conventions. This was a nice change of pace from conventions elsewhere.
Participation, financial support for creators, social events, artistic expo, exhibitionism, niche enthusiasm and a dash of “I know more than you about this series.” Anime and manga events are a messy stew of these elements.
Whether they are big or small, it’s clear that the chaos of creation and participation thins the line between fan participation and semi-professional employment in unique – and universal – ways.
