The close-up is of a mottled beard, flecked with feathers and vomit,
with small
bird parts dripping from the hairy nest. Penny Moran Van Horn’s
scratch-board
story “A Bird in the Beard” ends with the perfect panel of the
fowl-strewn
Casanova cocking a drunken eyebrow, spewing, “So… you wanna spend the
night,
babe?” This work of Austin artist Van Horn and 13 others appear in an
enthralling
primer to modern female comic art Twisted Sisters: A Collection of
Bad Girl
Art edited by Diane Noomin. This coffee-table compendium of
femme-penned
pieces caused quite a buzz in the comics scene, as well as in feminist
academic
circles. It also made waves: “A fellow [male] artist saw my work in
Twisted
Sisters at the Museum of Modern Art’s bookstore and said, `The
spotlight is
only on you because you women are in the minority,'” Van Horn rolls her
eyes.
“C’mon, those guys have had an open mike for the past millennium! [Men]
have
had the spotlight for so long; even if it is because we are women, I
can’t see
how shifting the focus should get anybody’s feathers wet….”
Artists and comic book aficionados consider Twisted Sisters a sign of
the changing body of comic art culture – a body that has taken on a decidedly female form. The book heralded a
veritable
renaissance of women artists on the “alternative” comic planet, albeit
as an
exception to the norm. In spite of this minority status, and at the
point
marking the 100th anniversary of the 1895 creation of the comic strip,
the
alternative publishing market has seen an increase in the number of
women’s
self-authored titles. According to Tammy Watson, marketing director for
Fantagraphics Books, a forerunner in independent comic distribution,
“It’s not
just because the independents are choosing to publish more women.
There’s been
a definite increase in self-publishing, with women bringing
their
own titles into comic book stores. There’s also been an increase
in
compilation comics featuring many women artists, so an audience will be
exposed
to six to 10 artists at once.”
Another important volume, 1993’s A Century of Women
Cartoonists by
Trina Robbins, reveals that over the last 100 years, both alternative
and
mainstream comic strips have been thoroughly populated with female
artists who
are often left out of historical accounts. As the book illustrates,
this is not
the only time female artists have basked in attention under the lights.
At the
turn of the century, Rose O’Neill reaped obscene rewards with her
creation – the Kewpies. A decade later, Grace Dayton enjoyed a similar success
with the
immortal Campbell’s Soup Kids. In 1940, Dale Messick introduced
Brenda
Starr, Reporter and set the tone for women-created, women-targeted
romance/comedy/drama strips.
The years are littered with women artists. The Sixties, Seventies,
and
Eighties saw a greater acceptance of wild women artists in mass-market
publications. The Sixties underground comix revolution was highlighted
by a
largely male emergence of vanguards like the Fabulous Furry Freak
Brothers, Zippy, and Mr. Natural, while the Seventies
was a
ripe scene for stripping sisters. It was an era characterized by a
spirit of
open-mindedness; many new female artists called this scene “home.”
National
Lampoon offered some audiences their first exposure to distaff
artists in
the works of Shary Flenniken’s elegantly penned Trots and Bonnie and of
the wacky world of M.K. Brown, much the way alternative newsweeklies
and
syndication would open doors for Lynda Barry, Alison Bechdal, Marian
Henley,
and Nicole Hollander in the Eighties.
Roberta Gregory, the grande dame of sequential art, asserts,
“There was
a movement in comics which coincided with the early women’s movement.
Wimmen’s Comix came out in 1971. The foundation [included titles
like] Girl Fight, It Ain’t Me Babe, Pandora’s Box, and
Tits
and Clits,” all fairly well-distributed at the time.
Gregory was not only the first woman to self-publish and distribute
her own
solo comic book – 1976’s Dynamite Damsels – but is currently riding a small crest of fame with Fantagraphics’
Naughty
Bits. Naughty Bits follows the exploits of one of modern
comics’
most ventilatory yet venial characters, Bitchy Bitch. Gregory is
reaping
positive attention for her negative little Bitchy: The subject of not
only a
play (yes, a play) but also a compilation called A Bitch Is
Born,
Bitchy is a fave among the Nineties grrrl set, yet ironically is a
struggling
secretary in her forties. Bitchy represents her author’s staying power
in the
long, slow revolution.
Was this modern explosion of female talent lit by hippies? “I think
it has a
lot to do with Trina Robbins, me, Diane Noomin, and Aline
Kominsky-Crumb
sticking it out,” asserts Gregory of her Seventies contemporaries who
are still
active today. “There were a lot of women artists at the time; [many]
were just
discouraged by the diminishing returns and dropped out. Hopefully this
time,
there’ll be enough psychic feedback and financial support for the
current
artists to continue. [Today] there’re more titles, more media carrying
comics,
and more self-publishing.”
Gregory indicates one of the main differences in comic distribution
– then and now. “In the early Seventies, we had the head shops. When I
was first
discovering women in comics, every town had a head shop where you could
wander
past a big display of underground comics. Comics were produced in
larger
numbers then: I printed 10,000 copies of Dynamite Damsels. That
was
considered a solid press run, as opposed to the average today of maybe
3,000.
In 1971, Tits and Clits sold 40,000-60,000,” by today’s
standards a huge
hit.
Gregory’s statistics are revealing in light of current industry
standards.
“[Today] there are more outlets for publication but no reliable
distribution,
no guarantee that you’ll get into people’s hands.” In today’s
independent
comic-publishers market, according to Matt Counts in Fantagraphics’
accounting
department, 3,000 issues sold constitutes a solid press run, while
their
biggest sellers “Love & Rockets, Hate, and
Eightball
all sell around 35,000 per issue.” Counts is quick to note,
however, that
some of the biggest sellers took years to get to that level. There is
no
comprehensive accounting, however, for the pool of self-publishers
which acts
as a feeder to the burgeoning independent market. Tammy Watson attests,
“Eventually some of these [self-publishing] artists will be picked up
by the
indies if they want to be.”
Does an increase in the number of women publishing translate into
employment
opportunities for women in mainstream comics? In the world of the
“major” comic
book publishers (like Marvel, DC, Dark Horse, and Archie), 35,000 is a
selling
figure that would lead to reassessing the financial feasiblility of a
title. A
healthy press run is in the 50,000-60,000 range, with big hits like
X-Men tasting the sweet success of sales figures approaching
300,000.
According to Marie Javins, an editor at Marvel Comics, the career
potential in
the corporate comic industry is higher today for women. “Jeanette Kahn
was
editor-in-chief at DC Comics up until recently. And look at Karen
Berger: She
single-handedly developed a new aesthetic in mainstream comics with
DC’s
Vertigo line.” Vertigo produces Sandman, Death: The High Cost
of
Living, and Shade the Changing Man, a line Javins describes
as
“alienated, college comix for the hipster set, for the most part
written and
drawn by men but with an editorial staff of mostly women.
“In 1978, Marvel had nine editors, one of which was a woman; today
women
comprise nine out of 30 positions in editorial.” Javins believes it to
be
similar at their competitors DC. The ratio in the art departments,
however,
differ from editorial. “I can only name three inkers. Now, colorists
are a
different story: Colorists are the bass players of comics,” Javins
laughs.
“It’s a skill that can be readily picked up by someone eager to join
the fun,
but it’s also a bit of a ghetto for women.”
Ellen Forney was never a main-
stream comic reader as a kid. Now, at 27, she has her own luscious
comic book
called Tomato, distributed by Starhead Comix in Washington. Her
influences are indie comics and the Twisted Sisters anthology.
“Not
until recently have I even paid attention to the mainstream scene.
What’s
amazing is the difference in pay.” Forney’s art is bold, sexy,
confrontational – words not often assigned to mainstream comics. Although Forney sees an
increased demand for women’s art, she laments that “a lot of doors are
closed – like most mainstream anthologies and magazines that publish comics.
[So, for
me] Tomato is important, it’s a wonderful outlet but at the same
time,
makes me no money – literally no money,” she emphasizes. It’s a shame, because
Forney’s
smooth, brush-stroked style is as compelling as her wit. “Publishing
one
illustration in Mademoiselle pays 25 times more than my comic
strip
[7 in ’75, for Seattle’s music bi-weekly, The Rocket
].
It’s a weird toss-up.” Ultimately, her heart is in her independence: “I
realize
that’s where my passion is.”
Austinites Penny Van Horn and Jeanette Moreno find themselves in
similar
circumstances – both create for themselves, yet aspire to earn a living in the field.
The two
women have illustrated for The Austin Chronicle and along with
Bernadette Noll had regular strips in The Daily Texan,
and all
three contribute to the Austin American-Statesman‘s Thursday
insert
XL ent. Interestingly, Moreno and Noll credit Van Horn as a
major
influence. All three desire more contact with other women in the field.
Van
Horn and Moreno participate in a semi-regular meeting of local comic
artists to
draw and exchange ideas. But as one of the only two women in the group,
Van
Horn sadly confesses, “If Jeanette’s not there – it’s no fun.”
Reflecting upon the “boys’ club” reputation earned by the comics
industry,
Marvel editor Javins doesn’t feel that, in 1995, the mainstream
publishers are
particularly sexist, but concedes that the kids who grow up drawing
superheroes
mostly grow up to be men. As a result, it’s more likely that men will
populate
the artist/author positions. Since hit comics almost exclusively
feature action
heroes, they contribute to this vicious cycle. Despite the cycle, the
phenomenon of growing ranks of great female artists on the indie scene
poses
the question: Would enticing young girls into the audience deliver
female
artists in the industry later? Javins offers, “Barbie is
[Marvel’s]
proud failure; we can’t seem to sell that thing!” Barbie sells
on the
average 32,000 per issue.
That’s it? That’s Marvel’s sole stab at developing a girl
market?
Moreno, whose French Dressing comic strip illustrates the
tribulations
and joys of childhood in the Rio Grande Valley, has some opinions about
this. I
asked her: Are strips and books targeted for girls and young women the
way to
engage developing artists? The subject spun 180 degrees, like a Twist
Barbie.
“Barbie! ” Moreno scoffs, “She can’t even get angry! There’s a whole
list of
emotions she can’t have; she can’t be angry, confused, sad…. She’s
smiling
all the time! What does that tell little girls?? Stop whining?”
Back in the Marvel universe, Javins sighs. “Our market is geared to
12-year-old boys; we struggle to reach girls.” What if the company
offered less
vapid subject matter than a 2-D version of a 3-D toy? “Hey, girls like
ponies!”
Javins then dismounts her defensive to admit, “We don’t have any facts
to
support who reads what. We don’t have any gender research.”
While the independent, underground market caters mostly to adults,
the major
publishers have the kiddie market sewn up. Javins confirms this: “Let’s
put it
this way: Marvel circulates different titles to comic book stores to
basically
the same audience – we have the 12-year-old boys. You can’t drag most girls into a
comic
store because it’s the realm of the boys.” Javins’ defeatism is sad but
realistic. “We stick with Barbie because it makes new money from
a
totally different audience. Ideally, Marvel would like to diversify its
girl
market, but if we can’t sell Barbie, how can we sell other
titles geared
to girls? It’s pretty discouraging.”
But is it hopeless? The face of the underground has certainly lit
up due to
the increase of women contributors. Mass-market analysts always seem to
take
their best cues from the underground and other realms – like college newspapers and alternative newsweeklies. Maxine
creator
Marian Henley’s success was a result of publishing first in The
Dallas
Observer and The Austin Chronicle. Henley’s syndication is
now
national print requests are possibly a better paying venue than
syndication,”
she states. Indeed, Glamour and Ms. reprinted works of
hers that
originally appeared in the alternative press for substantially higher
return,
so much so that Henley virtually lives off royalties. “I could
live on
it… but god help me!” she laughs.
For the four women profiled in the sidebar below, college newspapers
were the
path, specifically UT’s The Daily Texan. Divya Srinivasan, the
creator
of The Texan‘s Sexually Repressed Girl and
Pupae,has syndicated her strips to eight college
newspapers
around the country. Her art is fresh, innocent, and innovative. She
even has a
children’s fairy tale in the works, complete with a fairy queen,
squirrels, and
a cute teen-idol elf [see sidebar]. It’s hard to imagine that young
girls would
find this less engaging than say, Barbie’s excursion to the modeling
agency on
My Little Pony. So, perhaps the answer is to get ’em while they’re
young – or more precisely, develop a youth market which includes the tastes,
the
styles, and the whims of young girls. Perhaps this development will
alter the
gene pool of comic creators and ensure that opportunities are present
across
the board.
Increasingly, women are establishing chapters in comics
history. With
each page turn, young girls are finding more and more positive role
models,
inspiring them to explore this accessible form of self-expression and
communication. Current titles, such as Sarah Dyer’s Action Girl (see
“Reading List” sidebar) seem to bridge the gap between kids’ titles and
full-on, adult-themed comix, with storylines appealing to high
school-aged,
hipster girls as well as to mature women. Perhaps, if mainstream comic
publishers are keeping an ear to the ground, they will detect the
rumblings of
change. This once exclusive boys’ club is currently enjoying a more
open and
playful membership.
But, until the changes really sink in, Van Horn is bummed that there
aren’t
more women creating, exchanging, and sharing ideas for comics,
especially
locally. She’s interested in community, like most artists, and is eager
to get
the word out: “Consider this an open call to all women artists!”
The comics and fine art of Penny Van Horn, Jeanette Moreno,
Bernadette
Noll, and Divya Srinivasan can be seen at ForRay’s Cafe and Espresso
Bar, 2801
S. First, 441-3647. Divya Srinivasan’s paintings are also currently on
display
at Amy’s Ice Cream on Sixth Street.
This article appears in May 12 • 1995 and May 12 • 1995 (Cover).