Kuniyoshi at the RA
Went down to London yesterday to see the Kuniyoshi exhibition at the Royal Academy. It is closing in this weekend. It was well worth the trip. I love japanese woodblock prints (as well as japanese ceramics, calligraphy and garden design). Yes, as has been pointed out by many commentators, they look remarkably contemporary and the reason for this is at least partly to do with the similarity they bear to the clear line style of comics masters such as Herge. As Paul Gravett points out in an article in the Spring 2009 edition, No. 102, of the Royal Academy Magazine modern manga comics owe much to these classic prints. I love Paul Gravett's writing. Read the article on his site www.paulgravett.com/articles/articles.htm
Manga grew from a fusion of traditional japanese illustration and western comics style and animation. Post war japanese cartoonists supposedly appropriated the oversized eyes and large heads of disney characters and so developed the classic manga style of physiognomy.
We all know how western artists of the late nineteen and early twentieth century were influenced by woodblock prints from Japan. This exhibition shows how Japanese artists were also influenced by reproductions of western paintings- as evidenced by the european perspective used in "The Night Attack".
I was thrilled to see Kuniyoshi's animal cartoons, humorous and satirical depictions or anthropomorphic creatures that neatly sidestepped the rigorous censorship imposed by the ruling government which prevented depictions of many types of activity and of many famous people.
Glad I caught the last day of the exhibition
Going back to comics: The first graphic novel with a medical theme that I came across was Cancer Vixen, by Marissa Marchetto. See my review of it at www.graphicmedicine.org . I liked the autobiographical form of the book, and felt that it gave an awful lot of "non propositional" knowledge- information about what things feel like, the soft fuzzy stuff as opposed to "hard facts". There were things here that you wouldn't find in any medical textbook (such as how bad farts smell after chemotherapy!), and I suppose this book started me off on the search for other comics and graphic novels of a similar theme. I soon found Mom's Cancer by Brian Fies and Our Cancer Year by American Splendor author Harvey Pekar. These were the first of many varied works I found to be relevant, but these three, all being about cancer, were interesting to "compare and contrast". In fact, although the graphic and narrative styles vary, the three are remarkably similar in theme. They reflect the disorientating and frightening experience of receiving a diagnosis of cancer an embarking on a course of treatment under the American health "system" (which seems less of a system, more of a multifaceted consumer industry, through which the patient must pick his/her way without a map). We moan about the NHS, but if you read these books you might find yourself grateful too live in a country where healthcare is free. The British system also seems much more holistic than the fragmented, ultra-specialized American model.
Marissa Marchetto had let her health insurance lapse when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Had not her wealthy fiance been able to add her to his policy, she would have faced bills for $200, 000 for treatment. As it was, she faced crippling uncertainty with well meaning friends undermining her confidence in her chosen specialist and suggesting their favourite doctors who proposed different, "better" treatments. She was even cold-called by oncologists, touting for business and offering her "lighter" chemotherapy. Poor communication on the part of health professionals is rife, a theme echoed even more strongly by Brian Fies and Harvey Pekar, whose works reflect a more prosaic experience than that of Marchetto. Fies describes the effect his mother's cancer had on his ordinary, middle class family and Pekar, the working class everyman recounts his experience of lymphoma in a script jointly written by his wife Joyce and illustrated by Frank Stack.
