The Art of….Well, Art.

The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette published an article on July 30^th by Vivian Nereim entitled “Line from T.S. Eliot poem intrigues literature buffs: Graffiti writer paints poetic on Carnegie Library.” She talks about Oakland’s Carnegie Library, which was recently vandalized with three phrases: “I wish I were a pair of ragged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas,” “for freedom enter here” and, most hilariously, “This is not a good way to handle my problems.” While the last one may be a little off topic, the first tag – a bastardized quote from T.S. Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” – shows something different than what we normally think of when graffiti is involved. I’ve heard of “graffiti artists,” who pride themselves on making vandalism into an art form, but rarely do we hear of graffiti that quotes poetry, especially poets as renowned and complex as T.S. Eliot. The second line – despite how grammatically challenged it may be – refers to the liberty that education allows individuals, and also seems out of character for graffiti. So why then, are these lines seen? And why does the third line, a self-admonishment concerning the actions of the perpetrator, show such self-awareness and wit? None of these traits are what we usually connect with something deemed vandalism. So are we all wrong about mediums that are generally not even considered art?

The article made me think of the argument currently happening concerning graphic novels as an art form. Most people think that comic books and their big brother, the graphic novel, are reserved for superheroes, but books like Art Spiegelman’s Maus: A Survivor’s Tale and Ice Haven by Daniel Clowes, suggest that the majority may be wrong. Maus is widely known and even won a Pulitzer Prize, but Ice Haven is harder to find and argues the very issue at hand – can comic books be considered art? In my eyes, any person who seriously considers and tries to communicate the human condition – no matter the medium – is creating art. Isn’t the point of art to connect with human emotions and express the complex ideas and struggles that every human must have and face? I can remember being a teenager struggling with my sexuality and staying up until dawn reading the “X-Men” comic books because they made me feel normal – the characters in those books understood the struggle of wanting to fit in when everyone says you can’t. At that point in my life, no one else was telling me it was okay to be different and the only things I could connect with that told me I was just as human as everyone else were comic books. So if art’s purpose is to connect humans through their emotions, then “X-Men” has already proved itself (because I know I’ve never heard a number of people that must be touched for something to be considered art). So why are so many people reluctant to have this belief? The stigma that comic books and graphic novels have for being “kid stuff” is disproven time and time again (if you don’t believe me, go look up the two listed above and “Promethea,” written by Alan Moore and illustrated by J. H. Williams and Mick Gray, which follows a superhero as she explores the boundaries between the mind and body, reality and imagination – something no other comic that I know of has ever done – and has some of the most beautiful illustrations I’ve ever seen). Yet people are still stubborn as can be concerning a medium that really combines two different art forms (illustration and literature) and borrows heavily from another (film – comics are so driven by dialogue and visuals that they probably come closest to screenwriting). Is it because prose writers cannot bring themselves to accept that their own medium may be recognized alongside the comics their kids are reading (though, to be fair, most comics with merit should be read only by adults)? Or has it simply become a cultural tradition, akin to the way many literary writers scoff at pulp writing, which – if it’s good (a rather big factor) – takes just as much effort, creativity, time, craft and attention to detail as literary writing? Have we become ignorant art snobs without even realizing it? Or, perhaps more importantly, are we more like the graffiti artist who watches their hands do what their mind knows it should not?

Whether it’s a conscious decision or the effect of a widespread social stigma, the idea that comics cannot be art needs to be reconsidered. Of course, issues of selectivity must be a concern (you wouldn’t place da Vinci’s paintings alongside a three year-old’s scribbles and say they have the same artistic merit) and surely some comics are better than others, but to write off an entire medium without consideration is nothing more than ignorance (much like seeing that three year old’s scribble and deciding that all drawings are trash). Most artists would have serious problem with their medium being cast aside because some individuals lack the dedication that they do. So why are we so willing to do it to comics?

All I’m saying is, don’t be surprised if the next time you read the words “for freedom enter here,” they’re on the stoop of a comic store. But don’t come questioning me, either – I still stick to the paper and ink.