7 May 2012

Experimental: Cartoons







- FIN -


❦ Class assignment interpreting critical analysis of Japanese Independent Music through the light-hearted irony of cartoons.

Even though my making fun out of this underground scene is entirely sarcastic, I would drop through the floor weighed down by embarrassment if Tove Jansson- from her grave, or any of the performers mentioned ever saw this and even remotely understood what this comic is about.

On Subculture...

My path to the exploration of Japanese Independent Music began around this time last year. I was browsing comic shops and bookshops in Paris. Daisuke Ichiba's endearingly inspiring Grossesse Nerveuse and Vovo instantly leapt out at me and held open my eyes long enough to give a small glimpse into the French indie comic scene. Weeks on, a trace through the internet resulted in the purchase of this book, for which Daisuke's art adorns the cover. I'm forever a fan.

Back to glutting over Japanese Independent Music: I carefully sourced this as the topic for a college project aimed to explore personal approaches in visual narrative. I'd acknowledged that the book is already about ten years behind, the information not easily citable, and the subculture- or the element connecting the artists- broad and therefore difficult to explain..

But basically, there's a lamp in my mind which tells me the steeper a subject, the more i'm going to learn from it. This is my outlandish logic. I'm however happy to say that it is not applied to every challenge or situation.

I've been meaning to share some of my favourite Japanese artists and tracks, so whilst I'm posting the art relative to the music, seems a good time to do so- The field is significantly varied, so below is just my personal taste. Though if you, like me, get a hearty zeal from this sort of thing... Then the book and the CD which accompanies it is highly recommended as a starting point for your ventures.


Hoppy Kamiyama:



Kaoru Abe:



Haino Keiji:



Ryuichi Sakamoto:







5 May 2012

Thank You




Death is like a lecture which removes the ability to retort.


My dad means the very heart of the world to me, to express the least. And he seemed proud to in knowing I was surrounded by such wonderful people. When I'd heard the sad news about my father, I cried on behalf of the rain. This went on for two days incessantly. Tears are no power-of-water underestimate. They had stripped my face back toward such sensitivity that I had no choice but to force myself from crying. As my skin dried, I saw in the mirror- for several days, all sorts of ages above my own. Sixty, then fifty, through the forties, and thirties, then right back again to as I am now. No longer a mutation with the power to breech time, my face had retracted it's warning born of mercy- and my finger, once briefly raised at the thought of mortality- curled itself up into a loose little ball.

It's been a little over a month since the event, and a little under a week since I've returned to college. Having walked its corridors and either smiling or feeling uncertain whether to communicate at all, I've realised that this sort of matter is potentially just as delicate for me as it can be for the people around me. I don't mind talking about my dad or my experience in dealing with his death, however I never wish to bring anyone's temperament down. So to avoid any such awkwardness in bringing it up.. Without the need to say a word, I simply wanted to give my thanks to everyone for the overwhelming support in helping my family and I through this surrealistic time.

With thanks to:
My mum and brother for being so strong and inspiring with your strength, Kit for driving me all the way to London as soon as the news was met, Kit's family for their thoughtfulness and arranging contact, my family on home soil and overseas: Spencer for listening and being a relay, auntie for lending me her coat, Jenny for lending me her shoulder, V for giving me a hug, Tiffany, Zephyr, Isabel~ Also to my housemates for their incredible listening and warmth; Felix for the chicken feet and holding my hand, and Maurice for resounding thoughts. Matty, I can't thank you enough for the 'normal day' we had, and the bike ride we almost took- among many things for listening, for your love, laughter, and support where I didn't know where else to turn- Dad would have loved you so much, thanks also to your family who have welcomed me into their lives like family! Thanks so much, Lynne- you are always so immensely supportive~ And all my special friends from QE; Emma, Ash- love you all so much! To all my friends in Swindon: museum pals; Simon, Ashley and Albert~ Fellow comikers; Fred, Sarah, Bex- I can't even begin to express..! To my art, comic and internet pals- Colleen, Ken, Jon, Serge, Ness- Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your thoughts and coffee flavoured chocolates! To Raj, Dan and Paula, Celine and Samir for your open arms~ To all our neighbours who send their thoughts, my mum and dad's friends and all those who attended the funeral. Thanking everyone who helped us to organise the funeral; Emma from Churchill, and our speaker- I'm very sorry to have misplaced your name, Mr. Speaker- for making everything easy for mum. To the girl at Barclays who lost her own dad at eleven, and went far beyond her job to see through that I was alright- thanks for being kind to mum. Tremendous amounts of gratitude to everyone at college; my classmates, 3rd and 1st years, and amazing teachers- Nicky for the squeeze and smiles in the corridor first day back. Andy for the amusing novel which I've now christened with an ex-libris- thanks for delivering the orchid and handmade book of much appreciated thoughts and beautiful sentiments from everyone!  And Kerri for your kind thoughts~ Thanking you all from the bottom of my heart, for making it easy to be away from and also to return to college! And finally I'd like to mention and thank anyone who I may have foolishly forgot to mention. My utmost thanks to you all~

enoki x



4 May 2012

Love me or hate me, I agree with Ken Kesey




Book > Film

I wanted to make a book out of mist...



Not just to tackle a task, but as a personal homage to Ken Kesey.

...With lightly transparent pages and varying degrees of opacity. How incredible it would be to read a book made of mist.

Unfortunately, my concept lacked the financial aide and expertise to pull this off, or even experiment with. It would have been my entry for the Penguin Design Awards 2012, Adult category, and instead this is it... And not even 'it' did I enter. Unfortunately...

If I had, it would need a trick to make it eye-catching enough for customers via online retail to spot. After much debate, I sent the mist into the sea and set sail on NHS blue.




I'm sort of happy... But not as happy, i.e., I was told I received a very nice mark, however the cover doesn't feel like 'me'.

To be completely honest, I missed the opportunity to instil a nice homemade drawing, and I feel it all looks rather... Clinical. Reflective of the cold power and authority in the book yet also of present book trends. Bleeh!

I guess I still lack a fair bit of confidence in my art. But on the bright side, I've found I delight in the clean and precise details a vector image can offer when making small pictorials.



1 May 2012

Examination



"Whitewashed walls and steel-gray machines and girls in flowered skirts skipping back and forth, and the whole thing webbed with flowing white lines stringing the factory together." - One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest c/o Ken Kesey.