Q/A with Brian Biggs
Dear Julia, Brian Biggs' graphic novel about a
man obsessed with birds, is one of the most
deceptively simple and provocative comics in recent
memory. Fortunately, Biggs has no intention of
revealing its secrets, as he demonstrates in an
e-interview he was kind enough to grant us. To
decipher Julia, you'll just have to read it,
and to learn more about Biggs' artistic take on the
comics form, you'll just have to read this.
So, are you convinced yet that Dear Julia is an
allegory for Superman comics?
Nope. I thought the idea was intriguing and funny, but
comics of the
superhero variety are rather alien to me, and the
chances of me
referencing a Superman comic are about the same
as a Superman comic referencing me.
Where did the germ of the idea for Dear
Julia come from?
At the beginning, the germ looked very different. I
heard a story on
NPR about a woman that lived in the attic of her large
house somewhere in
the deep South. She lived alone, but was surrounded by
mirrors and thought
she had intruders. That led to something else, then I
added another
something and took away some other things, then I
added a dash of this and that,
and baked it, and voila. Various pieces came from
various places. I have five sketchbooks (400
pages) *full* of bits and pieces. This is for a
96-page book, mind you.
How do you think the feel of the story has changed
from when it was four separate issues to collecting
the story in one book? Do you think you've lost
anything in abandoning the element of suspense
involved in waiting a month between issues?
Well first, i wish it was a month. It actualy was more
like seven
months between issues. But I'm glad you mentioned it.
Not many people seemed to notice that I
wrote the book with the cliffhanger in mind. I like to
think that the book
works in both ways. My first experience with waiting
for a sequel or next
part was, like most people my age, the three years
between Star Wars and The
Empire Strikes Back, then Return of the
Jedi. I loved the anticipation,
I hated the wait. The book reads a little too quickly
in one volume, but it is also
easier to comprehend the turns it takes. We debated
skipping the "chapter"
separations altogether when it was collected, but I
thought it really needed that
break to retain any sense of the flow of the story.
I'm curious about where the intense detail in your
work comes from. How much of a panel do you see in
your mind before you draw it, and how much of the
detail arises from that mental visual?
I know what I need to show in a panel before I begin,
and I have notes
for this. Like "Leo with pocketwatch and notepad." But
the exact angle and
composition work themselves out in the sketch process.
With Dear Julia, I thought of a natural flow
between panels. Like a film (of course). If I followed
this action, where does the POV go? It's pretty
organic.
Dear Julia is almost entirely told in
four-panel pages. Was that a conscious decision you
made early on, in terms of regulating the pace of the
book to that speed? Or was it something that just
evolved from beginning the book?
It was an evolution from my first book, which was
drawn one panel per
page. Frederick & Eloise was printed two per
page. I had never drawn
"normal" comics before and the decision process needed
to make irregularly sized
panels had not been developed in me yet. Of course,
knowing this
weakness, I attempted to turn it into a strength. I
pulled away the gutters between
the panels and made the whole thing claustrophobic. So
both.
The art in Dear Julia is a big part of the story's
power, but there's also some beautiful language, and
ideas in the language. Which comes easier for you--the
images or the prose that accompanies them?
Oh, the images are easier.
What do YOU think the story means? Does Boyd really
fly?
Nice try. I don't answer that question. But I will say
that if you really follow the clues scattered
throughout the story, the answer to your question will
become obvious and inevitable.
You've mentioned in interviews that you aren't as
passionate about the comics medium as other creators.
How did you find yourself writing and drawing comics,
then?
Because I couldn't afford to film the story? In 1991 I
was living in Paris on about $5 a day, sleeping on the
floor of a friend. I had a little synopsis of a story
that I wanted to film so I
kinda storyboarded it. A friend in Paris, Carlos
Kastro, who at the time was drawing the art for the
adaptation of Night of the Living Dead,
convinced me I should make it a comic. It wasn't until
later, two years later, that I started to read comics
other than RAW and Edward Gorey. Telling
stories and drawing pictures is what I like to do.
Comics, for
me, is one way to do it.
Who are some of your big influences as an
artist?
The big early ones are Gorey, Tardi, Moebius, Swarte
and McKean. Now I
squeeze out what I can from anyone and anything. As
far as artists who
I stand in awe of, I'd say Dave Cooper and David B
right now.
Do you listen to music while you draw? If so, what
bands/albums? Does it influence what you're doing?
None influence it really. I wish i could say that Jazz
loosens me up,
or Classical mellows me out, or whatever. But it
doesn't work that way. I
listen to too much NPR, and I always have a Tom Waits
record on the
mix. I also listen to a lot of electronic stuff. Cold
and mathematical.
What are you working on right now?
I am writing a story that I hope one day to draw as a
200-page-plus
comic. But before that happens, I'm writing and
drawing a book for kids about
elephants, illustrating a book of pseudo-religious
themes (that's all I
can say), and developing a bi-weekly strip for an
online magazine. These
jobs pay.
Finally, how's your son doing? His pictures on your
website are adorable.
He's asleep in the next room. He's a funny little
gnome. Nothing like a
kid to remind you to smile because, after all is said
and done, things are
pretty good and elephants ARE funny.
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