I don’t crosshatch. I don’t like to put a line through another line.
— Tony Millionaire

Doodling a lot with my sumi-e brush:

And drawing on the bus with a big, fat chisel-tip marker (keeps you from being too precious with your line):

As a woodcut artist, I’ve always been attracted to black-and-white art. I think it has something to do with the rich contrasts. I love a deep rich black that you can stare into, forever. The effect is like our colorful world torn down to its base so that we can read the unerlying message. The truth is always easier to take in black and white. Typography is always more legible in black and white, so why would we be surprised to find the readability of artworks enhanced by those contrasts? Remove the grays and hues, reduce the image to lines and solid blacks, and open up the whites. You have a thing of beauty and simplicity.

Another way to understand our attraction to black and white is through the science of how we see. The human eye consists of rods and cones that process the reflected light of our world. These signals are then translated into color and form for processing by our brain. The rods, which are sensitive only to black and white, are the first components activated in a baby’s eyes. That’s why infants readily respond to high-contrast black-and-white images. We are hardwired to appreciate black-and-white artwork.

—George A. Walker, preface to Graphic Witness

Here’s another thread in my ever-growing collection of connections between comics and information design: the ubiquitous stick figure used for modern infographics actually has his origins in the early 20th century woodcut. Here is the beginning of Eric Lewallen’s wonderful talk, “A History of the Stick Figure“:

Our stick figure’s past actually begins with statistics, and for that we jump back to around 1920 in post-war Vienna and the work of social scientist Otto Neurath. Now, at this time, much of Europe is still reeling from the aftermath of World War I. There’s a growing interest in constructed universal languages: many people feel that through a common language we could better understand each other and avoid conflict. Neurath believed it was words that led to these misunderstandings in the first place. His interest in hieroglyphics led him to develop a system to help people understand social and economic facts with a minimum of words. To help him develop his system he collaborated with Gerd Arntz, a Vienna artist well known for his black and white woodcuts. Arntz worked in a simple style that could be easily understood by ordinary people, so Neurath molded this style into stick figures that became the building blocks of his pictured statistics.

Further proof that there are no coincidences, Gerd Arntz (1900-1988) was part of the Weimar Era, with contemporaries such as George Grosz (previously blogged) and John Heartfield.

[Arntz] wanted to strip art of bourgeois preciousness. In order to efface all evidence of his individual hand, he invented a stylized vocabulary of symbolic forms. His predilection for the flat, black and white tonalities of woodblock further served to obliterate the artist’s personal touch. Nevertheless, his incisive visual analyses of German society, corruption and political factionalism can hardly be considered impersonal; even in stark black and white, Arntz’s work reveals the artist’s political predilections and idiosyncratic viewpoint….[He] decided to concentrate on woodcut and linoleum cut because he was attracted to stark contrasts of black and white and because these mediums reminded him of certain family photographs that he had repeatedly perused during the war.”

Here I’ve cut and pasted the best images of Arntz’s work that I could find on the cybertubes (not a whole lot to be found, a Google search is your best bet):

And some of his infographic work (done with Neurath):

If anyone knows more about Arntz’s work or where one get get a decent book on him, please leave the info in the comments!

Big thank you to Eric Lewallen for bringing this to our attention! Here’s his presentation in its entirety (be sure to visit his blog, Words Are Pictures Too).

Supposedly, Chris Ware loved this particular Gasoline Alley strip by Frank King so much that he tore the page out of the Smithsonian Collection Of Newspaper Comics book and had it mounted on the wall of his studio. Given my fondness of the “style of the old woodcut pictures,” I had to rip it off, myself.

I got this great tear sheet scan from Roger Clark’s fantastic archive of annual Gasoline Alley “autumn walk” Sunday pages.

My favorite chapter so far in Marshall McLuhan’s Understanding Media is called “The Print: How to Dig It.” Not sure how legal it is, but you can read the chapter online, as well as the whole book. Here are some choice excerpts which really hit me:

It is relevant to consider that the old prints and woodcuts, like the modern comic strip and comic book, provide very little data about any particular moment in time, or aspect in space, of an object. The viewer, or reader, is compelled to participate in completing and interpreting the few hints provided by the bounding lines.

AND:

In the low definition world of the medieval woodcut, each object created its own space, and there was no rational connected space into which it must fit. As the retinal impression is intensified, objects cease to cohere in a space of their own making, and, instead, become “contained” in a uniform, continuous, and “rational” space. Relativity theory in 1905 announced the dissolution of uniform Newtonian space as an illusion or fiction, however useful. Einstein pronounced the doom of continuous or “rational” space, and the way was made clear for Picasso and the Marx brothers and MAD.

I’m plowing through this book the way I plowed through Ulysses back in the day: full steam ahead, take what you can where you can.

I’m ridiculously pleased that Gerry and the folks at Backwards City Review will be publishing my 5-page comic, “After The War,” in their fourth issue, which will be hitting the shelves soon. Not only is this my first paper-published comic, it’s also the first longer-format comic I ever worked on (drawn specifically with BCR in mind), and a rougher version of the technique I’m using to do Calamity. If you can tell, I was looking at a lot of Lynd Ward woodcuts, Frank Miller’s Sin City, and the illustrations for Dickens’ Our Mutual Friend:

Next to MOME, BCR is my favorite journal, one I go out and buy after each issue, so this is a real treat. Gerry and I have similar tastes (check out the blog!) and he’s even managed to get graphic work from Lynda Barry, Kenneth Koch, and Kurt Vonnegut.

I really suggest you check it out. Library Journal named it one of the best magazines of 2004, and called it “a flawless mix of fiction, poetry, nonfiction, and comics—yes, comics” that “easily surpasses most of the more established literary titles at the local Barnes & Noble.”

For those of you who live in Cleveland, Suzanne carries it at Mac’s Backs in Coventry.

It was a beautiful tree, two doors down. i stood next to the cooks from the chinese restaurant across the street and watched it disappear…