#the only one NOT directly related to a writing project is the anthology actually

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Christmas Haul, 2023 Edition!

I am forever and always asking for books for Christmas, and this is what I was gifted this year! (If you think you see me stacking my TBR based on my own writing projects.....yeah okay you do lmao.)

[wehavethoughts]

But Where Do I Put The Couch?

~a designmod review~

But Where Do I Put the Couch?: And Answers to 100 Other Home Decorating Questions

by Melissa Michaels & KariAnne Wood

Harvest House Publishers, 2019.

ISBN: 0736974148

Four prize geese! An encouraging and easy read for people thinking broadly about interior design, or just starting out with their own projects!

Bernice T. and Mindy H. among 99 other blog followers received answers to their questions in But Where?, but the book is legible to anyone interested in interior design. Michaels and Wood write, “We wrote this book to answer those questions--the ones we all face in moments of desperation or creative burnout...So sit back, relax, and get ready to resolve a few home décor conundrums. And along the way, you will find the perfect place for that couch.”

What a fun title: but where do I put the couch? I’m not starting a room from scratch myself, but I can kinda relate to the question. This is, of course, also because I’m hyper-attuned to my spatial lifestyle, how the material things around me shape what I do, how I feel, and how I live. I have indeed asked myself, “well, if I moved my bed over here, then I could take naps in the afternoon sunlight,” or, “it’s best to orient the dining room table this way so that you maximize the space to walk around into the living room.” I ask myself these kinds of questions because I’ve done a lot of work in thinking critically about things in general, constantly analyzing and puzzling on how to make things better. But Where? frames itself through the lens of questions, as the two authors compiled design queries posted by fans to their blogs: The Inspired Room and Thistlewood Farms. You can turn to your question, or read straight through for a kind of anthology of broad interior design questions.

Michaels and Wood do a wonderful and consistent job of encouraging personal expression. Each very kindly supports the development of their readers’ self-confidence, insisting on doing you over following any do-or-die rule. I appreciate this as a reader, perhaps because I generally don’t like being told what to do. Each author does at time ‘slip’ and prescribe some measurements or ‘foolproof’ choices, even so far as suggesting a specific paint color with its name and brand. These elements turned me off for a few reasons. Because I am artistically inclined, and I felt like I was belittled. However, of course not all readers are well-versed or even confident in their interior design journeys, and I’m sure a few stepping stones could be reassuring for some readers in realizing their own visions. 

The other main reason why I didn’t like such direct instructions is the conformity inherent in the style being prescribed. A part of my critique of these books is accessibility, meaning that I am looking for books that have wide audiences, that include people of lower socio-economic positions, that don’t necessarily buy into a trends-or-die mentality, or books that simply offer new, fun, fresh perspectives. The style of these authors is HUGE right now in interior design aesthetics (published only last year): spacious, neutral, country-style American, modern farmhouse, not-vintage but with thrifted art and decor, plants-and-white housewife style. The rooms are clear of toys or papers or any sign of it being actually lived-in. There is a loooot of empty space suggesting a home with a lot of square footage, and current decorations as if one were regularly hosting and trying to impress guests. 

This, without being explicit, references the traditional American wife’s role in overseeing the domestic sphere, but only so far in that it pleases everyone else in the home. It’s a style that I criticize because it seems so showy while also insisting that it’s down-to-earth. It’s usually asserted by people who have a lot of money and time while claiming the opposite. Fortunately, Michaels and Wood do very often speak directly to readers who don’t have big budgets, recommending thrifting and upcycling over purchasing at high end boutiques, which is very nice!

However, only a few times the authors offer solutions for renters. And so there’s nothing wrong with owning a home and wanting to redecorate, the book seemed targeted  at the women/matriarchs of traditional (American) families who live in houses with dens and laundry rooms, front porches and attics to store seasonal decorations (not everyone has rooms allotted for distinct activities). Again, this isn’t bad, but it is narrow and limiting because there are so many other types of homes out there!

There are also a bunch of random Christian language, like, “if you are having a Bible study…” This isn’t bad or good, but nothing in the book suggests that this is a Christian perspective, so the religious bits a) appear more strikingly and b) only goes to prove that Christian is the default in design books, which it shouldn’t be. There should be no standard for home design, except that a) it is a home and that b) the design respects everyone residing there. 

A design book must have a perspective, of course, and this one does! I mean to suggest in this book the authenticity of supporting individual creativity. It’s hard to strike a balance between articulating a design book that actually says something, and not being so rigid as to require specific elements in order to be “good.” It’s also harder with two authors. In But Where?, Michaels and Woods at times contradicted each other. For example, one would suggest starting with the biggest project --both as an aesthetic anchor as well as an attitude of diving in and committing--, whereas the other recommended starting small with found decor over time and slowly building your style/vision. I don’t think the goal of any book (or even anything!) that hopes to build community in any sense is to assert only one road over all others. Michaels and Wood do a fair job of appealing to as wide an audience as possible, with some chapters offering step-by-step guides to a specific patina, other times offering tips to experiment on a mood board for those just getting started. 

Ultimately, I award But Where Do I Put the Couch? four darling geese out of a possible six. The writing was warm and informal, the page layouts were pretty and clean, there were nice pictures, a good range of topics covered, and ultimately a real collaboration with everyday people (monograms are boring!). However, the advice could get repetitive or contradictory, often swinging without balance between vague encouragement and precise opinions. But Where? is a fun, wholesome survey for beginners, preferably American middle-aged female home-owners who are still experimenting with their style. 

With loving curiosity,

DesignMod

[luminoustico]

For End of the Year Writing Meme: All the questions sound super interesting so just use this as an opportunity to answer whatever questions interest you most

So funny story I put this in my drafts to complete in the quiet time of New Year’s Day, but then I forgot about it completely. BRACE YOURSELF.

A. If you could rec a piece of music to accompany one of your fics, what would you pick? Why?

Lies by Marina and the Diamonds, to accompany the latter half of Valse Melancolique. It’s a really good song to show Irene’s POV at that point, especially her reluctance to accept that the webs she’s spun are basically collapsing around her.

“I just want it to be perfect / To believe it’s all been worth the fight,” is the most relevant set of lyrics, IMO.

B. Who’s your favourite side-character from something you wrote?

I really enjoyed writing side characters like Rose and Finn, though Rose just edges it because I’ve been enjoying writing her in Don’t Complicate It. Finn runs a very close second.

C. Get any good comments on your stuff this year?

Sure! All comments are good comments, let’s be real. Unless they’re an obvious troll comment or those “update now!!!” kind of comments. Those aren’t so good.

D. Any drawings or pictures that had a big influence on your writing?

The artwork of the late 18th century and Roberto Ferri definitely influenced the tone of Valse Melancolique. Many scenes from certain stories were driven by a single image I had in my head as well.

E.  Who’s your favourite main character you’ve written?

Though I do enjoy delving into Ben/Kylo’s psyche, I enjoy writing Rey more – she’s more enclosed, and I love chipping away at characters to get to their truths.

G. Where do you think you grew the most this year?

Towards the end of the year, I began to realise that writing can actually be fun like it used to be. I’ve been so aware of the way the world is currently that I’ve been convincing myself that my writing must have a message, or it’s not ‘worthy’. I need to understand that I started writing not to pass on any morals or messages, but as a release and a way to find enjoyment in the constant buzz.

H.  How do you write? Paper, pen, computer? Music, no music?

All of those. I write on my phone, on my computer, on pen and paper. Music and no music, it depends. Most often I’m listening to a playlist/album which then stops and I cease writing an hour or so later realising I’ve been writing in silence.

I.  What’s your favourite work you did this year? Why?

I’m always tempted to answer this kind of question with my most recent story. But I’m going to be really honest and say that star among the stars is a personal favourite. And it’s not just because of the pegging.

J.  What are the best jokes you told this year? Any jokes you thought were funny that people didn’t catch? Vice-versa?

I’m completely blanking on this one.

K. Who have you killed this year? Why did they have to die?

Qui-Gon Jinn (to match with canon), Molly and Sherlock (hey it was a story based on Dangerous Liaisons, and I was reading classical Russian literature at the time of plotting) and Kylo Ren a bunch of times (metaphorically).  

L.  Which character did you most write about this year, and why do you like ‘em?

I wrote more about Rey. As mentioned before, it’s because I like chipping away at a character’s surface but also it’s because I really relate to her, especially in regards to her feelings of loneliness and her tendency to put on ‘a brave face’. Plus I really admire her compassion and her strength. I envy it.

M. Meta! Have any meta about a story you’re dying to throw out there?

Not particularly -- just headcanons and reasons behind why I write what I write. (I’ve never been very good with meta anyway.) I really like it when other people meta my fic, or pick up on something I didn’t! That is an AMAZING feeling. 

O. Do you believe in outlines? Show us one!

I do indeed! I love my outlines. For some projects, I’ve got whole folders with docs labelled Initial Ideas, Plot Summary, Chapter Outline, etc. etc. I’ve got my notes app on my phone stuffed up to the gills with mini-outlines. I frequently use my story structure template, which is technically more for screenplays, but the breaking down into acts thing helps my brain figure things out. 

P. What are your pet peeves in other people’s work?

When an author relies too much on UST and ruins the pacing. Like, an author drags out the first getting together because they believe that the anticipation is the only thing generating comments. If it’s right to have them bang, have them bang! The awkward morning after is a delicious opportunity for UST -- just a different kind. 9 times out of 10, your readers are there not for the smut because they’re invested in the story and like your writing.

Q. Quote three bits of writing you read this year. Can be your writing, or not.

Let’s mix it up.

“ “Why did you do that?” he demanded as they ducked into a side alley. “What part of ‘keep a low profile’ is difficult for you to understand?”

“I’m a good haggler,” Rey said through a full mouth. She didn’t have any idea what she was eating, and she didn’t care. It took so much effort to chew each bite instead of gulping it down whole. “He was trying to cheat us.”

“You didn’t haggle. You pushed.”

“I did not. Why would I knock him over in the middle of his stand?”

Kylo just stared. “You need a teacher,” he muttered. He watched her eat for a moment, his expression somewhere between thoughtful and disgusted, before taking a bite from one of his own skewers. Disgust won out. ” -- Symmetry and Black Tar by audreyii_fic. (Grumpy smuggler Kylo Ren, spunky scavenger Rey, canon divergence. Excellent.)

“ "Ben," Rey breathes once Kylo's mere inches away. It's the name Luke introduced him with, the only name she knows him by, and he's never bothered to correct her. Why hasn't he corrected her? The question flees from his mind as she closes her eyes and he leans down into the space between them, kissing her full on the lips. It's not gentle, he doesn't know how to be, but she opens for him the way the flowers she loves so much bloom in the sunlight. ” -- the surface of last scattering by diasterisms. (It’s the apocalypse, it’s exactly the right time to meet the love of your life, right? Read for utter devastation.) 

“ Rey could spend hours in the Falcon’s inner workings. She’d spent so much time in the belly of hollowed-out Star Destroyers, which were horrific remnants of old worlds, cold and grey. The Falcon is alive, speaking a strange language she’s just about half-deciphered. Sometimes, on days where she misses the connection most and dreams of a boy reaching across the stars to find her, it feels like the Falcon doesn’t want to speak to her. It shuts down. Sparks spit at her, and mechanisms develop odd faults.Today, a jet of steam blows directly in her face, not harmful, but almost like a snarl of 'go away'.

Rey climbs out of the hatch, fetching tools. She works with that fault first.

“I’m not thinking about him,” she promises to no-one but the ship she’s looking after. ” -- If I was born as a blackthorn tree, by me!

R. If you had to rewrite one of your stories from scratch, which one would it be? What would you do to it?

Going to cheat here and head back to 2017. I’d rewrite Two Stars Aligned. What I’d probably do is make it a post-TLJ fic, where Rey and Ben decide to run away after getting involved in a secret relationship, but get shot down by the First Order -- after landing in Giaca, they become embroiled in Game of Thrones style politics and the ruling families, while the Resistance and the First Order conduct searches for them. I’d cut out the weird Force shit and make the redemption arc thing more organic by giving the whole story room to bloody breathe. Two Stars Aligned is actually the reason why I now try to stick to oneshots for exchanges and any anthologies I get involved in.

S. What’s the sexiest thing you wrote this year?

Sexiest thing written in 2018... It’ll have to be the pegging in star among the stars.

T. Themes, motherfucker, do you have them? What are they?

Feminism. Females being allowed to be as fucked-up and broody as the men they love, and perhaps, even broodier. Make women afraid of commitment, 2k19.

U. Any stories that took an abrupt U-turn from where you thought they were going?

If I were a blackthorn tree took a pleasing turn away from the initial outline. The initial idea was lots of secret trysts and stuff like that, but I much prefer the quiet romance with a note of hope at the end that it turned out to be.

V. Which story was the most viscerally pleasing to write? Tell us your narrative kinks.

Huh. Hm. Don’t Complicate It is turning out to be kind of fun to write; when I’m not allowing myself to be crippled by the brain goblins that is (they’re strong lately). It’s a combo of writing a trope/kink I’ve been wanting to write for ages -- A/B/O -- and remembering that it’s okay to have fun with it.

W.  Who are your favourite writers?

@kylo-wouldnt-like-those-chips - @conchepcion (every time I think I’m out, she pulls me back in *shakes fist*) - @introspectivenavelgazer - @audreyii-fic - @kylorenvevo - ambiguously - @fettuccine-alfreylo and SO MANY MORE (this post is long enough already!!)

X.  What’s your least favourite work of this year?

My least favourite has to be In Cars. It was an ambitious idea, which I didn’t really fulfil, I feel. Curse of being a perfectionist. I want something to be amazing. World-changing! Tear-jerking! I want Vestal virgins to weep golden tears over my words, already delicately transcribed onto ancient parchment by monks. Obviously, that’s an impossible standard, but I can’t help being cross when I don’t reach it.

Y. Why did you write? For fun, for a friend, for acclaim?

During 2018? Mostly for acclaim. It made 2018 a very difficult year for writing, and just a difficult year in general. I’m trying to make sure I have fun during 2019 with this stuff. Striving for perfection is a punishing task that no-one can ever accomplish because perfection doesn’t exist. Contentment does, though. As does happiness. And those should be more important.

Z. If you could choose one work and immediately finish it, what would it be? How would you end it?

I’d finish Sanctum, my priest Kylo fic. I’m split between continuing or rewriting anyway (the rewrite would include relocating the action to the medieval era, around the time Luther wrote that damned essay and pinned it to the church door). But I do know the exact image I want to finish on, which will remain whether I end up rewriting or not. It involves a name, a scrap of material and a rather fetching colour scheme. 

Ooh. Cryptic.

[saltprogramlar]

Ask a farmer when there’s no need for an accountant

Production image of Jingle (Bureau of Unspecified Services, SALT Galata), 2018

İpek Ulusoy of SALT Research and Programs interviewed Chris Evans on his artistic process through a range of media, including photography, sculpture, sound and books, as well as the involvement of collaboration in his practice and his new works at Bureau of Unspecified Services (B.U.S), programmed by Sohrab Mohebbi as part of SALT’s Conversations series.

İpek Ulusoy: Chris, you’ve recently developed two new works that are currently on view at SALT Galata. The first one is Home Economics, Istanbul I-III (2018), a series of photographs of hob paintings you made in several SALT users’ kitchens, and the second is a sound piece titled Jingle (Bureau of Unspecified Services, SALT Galata) (2018), where you’ve worked with a local farmer. What was the first curatorial prompt that you received and how do these two seemingly very different works respond to that?

Chris Evans: Sohrab and I spoke about the relationship that SALT intends to build with its users, and how it is a magnet for young people, particularly college students who study and socialize there. We also discussed the title of the exhibition, which led to a conversation on the utility in art, if an extreme counter to this is the notion of so-called “radical uselessness” and what forms other counters might take so that they wouldn’t rely on their resonance being manifestly polemical. I have spent some time at SALT Galata during my Who’s in town? talk in February 2018, observing the way users engage with the institution. Considering this and Sohrab’s prompt for B.U.S., I grew an interest in how this context might become a part of the means of production.

İU: So let’s start with Home Economics, Istanbul I-III. There is a painterly aspect to these photographs that makes us feel like we are witnessing the aftermath of something. We are tempted to learn more about what we might have missed, what we are not part of, in other words, the performative aspect of the work. I am curious to hear more about your process, choice of media, and also why the work is not perhaps a video documentation of a performance but a series of photographs.

CE: The work begins with my experience of staying at short-term rented flats in foreign cities making paintings on absent strangers’ cooking hobs with their herbs and spices, and later photographing them for no good reason. I had kept these photographs on my studio wall for a couple of years as I didn’t know what to do with them at the time. There was one of these pictures on the wall when Sohrab started telling me about the exhibition. I wondered how the site and context of SALT and the exhibition might shape it as a piece of work.

First, SALT asked some of its users for permission so that I could enter their homes and make paintings on their cooking hobs. What had begun as a solitary act a few years ago had now become a public operation with us arriving on masse to make the work. There was myself, a photographer, an assistant, a project manager, and, of course, the homeowners themselves. Busy kitchens.

Chris Evans, Home Economics, Istanbul I, 2018 Photograph: Mustafa Hazneci

İU: In the photographs, you intentionally avoid giving any clues as to where you shot these, whose kitchen and so on?

CE: My impulse was to hide the back drop. I didn’t think there would be anything to gain from seeing the whole set up – a circus of people, lights and camera – and if we were to hide the apparatus I wondered what we would be revealing about the homeowners. It could easily veer towards a quasi-sociological study. Instead, I was curious to see how this process would affect the work and in-explicitly become part of it.

İU: Perhaps we can briefly discuss the title of the series. The term “home economics” (or ev ekonomisi in Turkish) has a very personal resonance for me as I first heard it from my grandmother. For her, it was about using the leftovers and turning something which was not necessarily functional into something that is. So, it meant re-assigning value to things that might simply be sitting at home, giving function to others and making better use of the resources in the domestic setting.

CE: Home Economics is named after a class that was integrated into the school curriculum in the late 1800s in the US. The original intention was to teach methods to structure home maintenance so that household chores would take up less time opening up more free time for other activities. The class still existed when I was at school, but drained of much of the initial focus on managing relationships between people, families and communities.

The work is about how value might come into play in a stranger’s gestural paintings made with the homeowners’ selection of herbs and spices. How can we determine the value of this or is the work perhaps the product of not having to?

İU: Can you speak about spice-as-material a little bit more and the potential of your process finding another form of expression?

CE: I used herbs, spices and cleaning products that were around in these hob paintings. Only when we had set everything up, met the homeowners, arranged the camera and lighting that I had to determine what marks I would make. How might the situation of making the work (spiraling out wider, the situation of making it in Istanbul) find itself crystallised in the resulting images? There’s no way of directly addressing this but it is eventually encapsulated in what is made. It was an unnerving experience having to consider what I might be expressing with these gestural sweeps of spices. I was aware that it might have appeared comical: putting the finishing touches to a dish over and over again.

The series has led to a new body of work for a solo exhibition at CAN, Neuchatel, Switzerland. In these new pieces, I paint with herbs and spices directly into slicks of resin which, in my opinion, resemble cooking oil spills. The hobs then get displayed vertically on the walls. They’re simply a consequence of making the works for SALT; one thing led to another.

İU: At SALT Research, I’ve recently come across your Job Interviews (2017), a publication which you’ve edited and illustrated. You’ve previously worked on other artist books, such as Magnetic Promenade (and Other Sculpture Parks) (2006) and Radical Loyalty (2002-2005). In thinking about how works manifest themselves in different shapes and forms, we can perhaps take this moment to explore how making books is relevant in your practice?

CE: My most recent book, Job Interviews began with my own writing. I was creating fictitious plots around various real people who have been at the periphery of the artworks I have previously made. Here, I was interested in the ritualistic aspect of job interviews, how they are like a courtship, conditioned by protocols that require a quite particular display. Social relations become material, there’s a dance of conformity, and there’s also this attempted imagining and echoing of expectations.

Going back to your question, making books is particularly important to me as it is a way of pulling in a wider context around things that interest me. Back stories are usually encapsulated into the works themselves. Producing books then becomes an excuse to do the opposite, to spiral off on tangents, but in a medium that to me feels more fitting; written narrative and depictive illustration. It’s also an excuse to work with people whose work I very much admire. To my mind, Natasha Soobramanien’s story and Holly Pester’s poem in Job Interviews are fantastic works of writing.

İU: At one point during your Who’s in town? talk, skill and context came up as two interesting notions in relation to your illustrations in Job Interviews. You mentioned that you were a better illustrator when you were sixteen, skill loses its importance in time, and building narratives around works of art come to the foreground. Can you expand on this idea further?

CE: I had a steadier hand when I was sixteen! I actually didn’t mean much by it; I was just talking about my personal experience and how I found myself using the same medium I used when I was a teenager. Also, how the consequence of the drop in expertise might mean that the context around the work has to take up the slack. In addition to making airbrush paintings that accompany anthologies of writing, I also use them to make “artists impressions” of proposed work, singular paintings, and posters. For an upcoming exhibition, I recently proposed a sculpture to be installed outside one of the windows of the Minister of Culture’s home of residence in Neuchatel, which will be accompanied by an airbrush painting depicting the sculpture seen from outside his home, the minister’s viewpoint.

İU: Dealing with a range of critical questions around artistic practice, patronage, authorship and sources of inspiration in your work, you often engage constituents from outside and beyond the art world including directors of institutions, public organizations and individuals from different segments. Your new work Jingle (Bureau of Unspecified Services, SALT Galata) (2018), and a previous piece titled A Needle Walks into a Haystack (2014), where you persuaded jewelry makers Boodles, major supporters of the Liverpool Biennial, to respond to the Biennial’s press release, immediately come to mind. What are your motivations for collaborating with people and organizations coming from non-artistic practices? Also, do you have initial expectations going into these relationships and how do you navigate through them?

CE: In collaborating with people from non-artistic practices my motivation is not towards ideas of inclusivity, and, in each occasion, little is revealed about the process itself. Conversations and negotiations remain hidden, their content becoming encapsulated in the artefacts. I want to solicit the dream life of honchos and henchmen, and I select the people I work with in relation to their symbolic or public role. In the case of the jingle, the options were a local animal farmer or an accountant.

Often the works include an uneasy partnership between public and private bodies. In A Needle Walks Into a Haystack (2014), for example, we’ve worked with the luxury jewellery firm Boodles, which was one of the main sponsors of the Liverpool Biennial. I asked the company to design a piece of jewellery in response to the Biennial’s press release, interpreting the exhibition’s core ideas as a creative brief. Boodles made a platinum and yellow gold ring with sapphires and helidor and I made a relief tablet and vitrine to house it. The imagination of a luxury brand becomes mixed up with artistic vision, blurring the roles of everyone involved.

The jewellery that Boodles makes can be photographed from 100 metres away and still sparkles. You might see them adorning the necks of celebrities and members of royal families in the pages of magazines like Hello!, Look and Grazia. Despite the fact that they cost a fortune, they are popular and somehow seem accessible. I thought that, given this popularity, the jewellery might attract a wider audience to the Liverpool Biennial, which like many other biennials promotes itself and raises capital on the promise of providing access and reaching a wider demographics. I was also interested in the rhetoric used by the Biennial to intrigue and excite. I wanted to give the press release to Boodles so that they could interpret it in their own way; I was curious to see how they would navigate its language and the parallels between how the jewelry-makers and the biennial promote themselves.

İU: The jingle, a brief pre-recorded sound plays every time someone walks in or out of the exhibition space at SALT Galata. In a book on display practices I once read, the author described how the direction in which people start their visit a gallery varies in different countries. I cannot remember the specifics of it, but I think more people tended to move towards the right when they walk into a gallery. So, I wonder whether positioning the work towards the right side was a conscious decision.

CE: This makes me think of the way that supermarkets are structured and how it impacts people’s flow and shopping behavior. But no I didn’t think about it at the time. I didn’t even specify. In previous installations in Graz, Portugal, Amsterdam and Hong Kong, the work’s loudspeaker has been positioned on the left hand side but I will definitely think more about the impact of where it’s situated now that you mention this. I think what was more important for me was that the work consists of a relatively small speaker on a stand whose presence would feel like a doorman, and not a security guard.

İU: Yes, it’s present but not so intimidating. It’s placed at a reasonable height, which is not too high.

CE: At the height of vital organs. There’s a very simple logic that decides how I proceed with making each jingle. I either work on these with a farmer or an accountant . If the institution considers itself to be financially stable then I record the first, and if not it’s the latter.

I often think about how all of us carries a soundtrack in our heads that’s dependent on what we do in life. I chose farmers and accountants because there are distinct sounds that we’d associated with these vocations. I thought that in asking them to make non-verbal sounds there might be a residue of these, let’s call them vocational soundtracks. When I was recording the farmer Soner Gümüş, I thought there might be subtle instances where he might sound like one of the animals that he tends. This wasn’t the case but perhaps it speaks of our expectations and in a way that I think, and hope, the work defies this caricaturization.

İU: Can you further expand on your process and how much context the people whose voices you record knows?

CE: I work on the jingles with the artist Morten Norbye Halvorsen. Whenever we’ve made them it’s always been the institution that’s been in touch directly with the farmers or accountants. I did not provide so much information as it’s good to go into the recording sessions without preconceived expectations. Prior to the sessions, Morten puts together a sequence of percussive sounds of short duration – noises that we feel would encourage non-verbal sounds. I ask the farmer, or accountant, to mimic the percussion noises. We keep going with it until there’s a flow and the vocalisations feel unfamiliar. These recorded vocalisations are later assembled into the jingle by Morten and also include a musical sequence of bass guitar that I record. I have in mind those bassline interludes that are familiar to ‘changes of scenes’ in American sitcoms like Seinfeld. Whilst the bass is used as a transitional device so too are the jingles situated at the point of entry and departure of the exhibition.

İU: I noticed that many were very conscious about the work, particularly the first instance they hear it. Did you get a chance to observe how people respond to it when they first hear the sound?

CE: I wanted the short sound sequence to briefly proclaim and broadcast a visitor’s arrival to the exhibition and, for the person entering (or exiting) to become the focus of attention. It behaves like an audio ID, bracketing and, to some extent, conditioning the experience of Bureau of Unspecified Services (B.U.S.).

[recentanimenews]

My Week in Manga: May 8-May 15, 2017

My News and Reviews

The Bookshelf Overload for April was posted at Experiments in Manga last week; otherwise, things were pretty quiet. Initially I had an in-depth feature scheduled for this week, but I’ll probably end up pushing that back to next week instead. I spent last Thursday through Sunday in Canada with the family for vacation and the Toronto Comic Arts Festival (TCAF) which I’ll be writing up like I have in years past. We had a great time, although not everything went exactly as planned.

Speaking of TCAF, Heidi MacDonald, Brigid Alverson, Deb Aoki, and Erica Friedman were apparently all sharing a hotel room for the event. I haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet, but they took advantage of that fact by recording a podcast in which they (and eventually Robin Brenner and Eva Volin as well) discuss a wide variety of topics including manga, queer comics, food, libraries, and more: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3. I only found out about the details after I got back home, but once again some people had trouble crossing the border between the United States and Canada in order to attend TCAF. In one notable case, Anne Ishii, one of the folks behind Massive and Gengoroh Tagame’s interpreter and translator, was detained for over two hours before eventually being allowed to enter the country.

A few things from elsewhere online last week: Anyone who picked up the Attack on Titan choose-your-own-path book from Kodansha Comics will want know about the corrections and errata that were recently released online. Kodansha also confirmed it would be releasing the Neo Parasyte M manga anthology (a sort of companion volume to Neo Parasyte F which I greatly enjoyed). In other licensing news, although an official public announcement hasn’t been made, The OASG received some confirmation that Udon Entertainment is currently “deep into the localization” of Rose of Versailles and Sugar Sugar Rune. No release dates have been set yet, though. Seven Seas hasn’t mentioned any release dates for its most recent set of licensing announcements, either, though I wouldn’t be surprised to see Okayado’s MaMaMa: Magical Director Mako-chan’s Magical Guidance, Mintarou’s DNA Doesn’t Tell Us, Tekka Yaguraba’s Sorry For My Familiar, Hiroaki Yoshikawa’s Crisis Girls, Tsuina Miura and Takahiro Oba’s High-Rise Invasion, and Coolkyoushinja’s Mononoke Sharing all released first.

A couple of Kickstarters that have recently caught my attention, too. Chromatic Press’ latest campaign is raising funds to print the first volume of Magical How? by Eurika Yusin Gho (aka Eyugho). Though on occasion I’ve mentioned Magical How? on Twitter, I haven’t really wrote much about the comic here at Experiments in Manga. (Or at least not yet.) It’s a pretty fun series though, a sort of magical girl/boys’ love mashup with energetic, full-color artwork and lots of humor. The other project I specifically want to mention is for the second volume of Beyond, a queer speculative fiction comics anthology. If successful, the project will also allow the award-winning first volume (which is great) to be reprinted.

Quick Takes

Captive Hearts of Oz, Volume 1 written by Ryo Maruya, illustrated by Mamenosuke Fujimaru. One of the most interesting things about Captive Hearts of Oz is that the English-language release is actually the first time the manga has been published; rather than licensing existing content, the series is a direct collaboration between Seven Seas and the creators. Captive Hearts of Oz is Maruya’s debut work in English, but Fujimaru already has a notable presence due to the numerous Alice in the Country of… manga that have been translated. I suspect that it’s intentional then that Captive Hearts of Oz has a similar vibe to those series. Interestingly, there’s no explicit romance in the series yet although the manga is reminiscent of an otome game. Dorothy has simply been swept into an unfamiliar world where she meets a number of unusual people, many of whom just happen to be attractive young men. Captive Hearts of Oz is a somewhat unusual reimagining of a Western classic which may (or may not) have more depth to it than initially appears. At the very least there’s something dark and mysterious going on, although after only one volume it’s not entirely clear exactly what that is. The narrative is frustratingly disjointed in places, but I am curious to see how Captive Hearts of Oz continues to develop.

Goodnight Punpun, Omnibuses 4-5 by Inio Asano. At this point in Goodnight Punpun, the series’ titular protagonist has entered early adulthood and his life largely remains a directionless disaster not entirely of his own making. He’s not completely blameless, though. I find that I have to time my reading of Goodnight Punpun very carefully. The manga has a very pessimistic worldview with which I can very easily identify, so if I’m already feeling mentally or emotionally exhausted, it’s usually a good idea for me to wait to tackle the series. On the other hand, it can sometimes be extremely cathartic to completely acknowledge the unfairness and darkness of the story and its real-life parallels. Either way, Goodnight Punpun is an incredible and powerful work, but it’s also very hard-hitting. Asano seems to be very aware of this and very aware of some of the related criticisms that have been leveled at the series. I, for one, have at times questioned whether or not all of the pain and suffering in Goodnight Punpun ultimately serves a purpose or if the manga is simply reveling in gloom and despair. I’ll admit that I’m still not sure and probably won’t be convinced one way or another until the manga’s conclusion, but Asano does directly recognize those concerns by having the creative work of some of the series’ characters similarly criticized.

So Pretty / Very Rotten: Comics and Essays on Lolita Fashion and Cute Culture by Jane Mai and An Nguyen. I don’t have a particular interest in fashion, so if it wasn’t for the fact that I make a point to follow the work of Nguyen (aka Saicoink) I might not have gotten around to reading So Pretty / Very Rotten for quite some time. That would have been a shame because So Pretty / Very Rotten is both a terrific and fascinating work. I was certainly aware of Lolita culture previously, but I can confidently say that I have a much better understanding of it and even appreciation for it after reading So Pretty / Very Rotten. The volume examines numerous topics related to Lolitas–history, culture, fashion, identity, gender, expression, community and more–through approachable and accessible essays, both personal and academic (the Lolita lifestyle is one of the areas of Nguyen’s research), as well as through comics and illustrations. It’s a mix that works quite well. The essays are informative and the comics are cute and engaging, effectively demonstrating the concepts addressed through visual narratives. So Pretty / Very Rotten also includes an interview with and essay by Novala Takemoto, a prominent figure in Lolita culture who is probably best known in North America as the creator of Kamikaze Girls.

The Whipping Girl by Nuria Tamarit. I’m not entirely certain, but I believe that The Whipping Girl is the first published solo comic by Tamarit, an illustrator from Valencia, Spain. Even if it’s not, I certainly hope that there will be more in the future if for no other reason than Tamarit’s striking artwork is gorgeous. Color pencils are prominently used to illustrate The Whipping Girl and the effect is lovely. Writing-wise, the work isn’t quite as strong; The Whipping Girl feels like it ends rather abruptly, even considering that it’s a short comic to begin with, but it’s still an enjoyable tale. The story largely follows Agape, the whipping girl of Prince Dalibor. He’s a bit of a jerk, intentionally behaving improperly in order to get back at Agape who is generally much more capable than he is. She finally gets so fed up with the whole situation that she decides to make a run for it. Neither she nor Dal are able to anticipate the complete extent of the repercussions of her actions, and both are surprised to discover how close their bond really is. Overall, The Whipping Girl is a very satisfying comic with beautiful artwork, expressive characters, and a great sense of humor. Agape in particular is a delight, an intelligent, strong-willed young woman with an attitude.

By: Ash Brown