A foto é do dia 11 de novembro, mas o Adrian Tomine postou ontem no blog dele. Alguns dos melhores quadrinistas de América do Norte em um jantar em Toronto. Só a nata. Da esquerda pra direita: Chris Ware, Charles Burns, Seth, Chester Brown, Anouk Ricard, Peter Birkemoe e Adrian Tomine.
Uma boa entrevista com o autor de Building Stories ilustrada com um autorretrato do autor – hoje em dia e a versão adolescente muito doida.
What advice would you give to someone who is in the early stages of that and possibly struggling?
To work as hard as possible, and then, when you think you’re done, to work just a little bit harder. To know that if it feels “right” it may actually be completely wrong, and that if it feels “wrong” it may be completely right. There’s no governing principle to any of this except that strange instinct and feeling within yourself that you simply have to learn to trust, but which is always unreliably changing. To create something for people who have not been born yet. To pay attention to how it actually feels to be alive, to the lies you tell yourself and others. Not to overreach—but also not to get too comfortable with your own work. To avoid giving in to either self-doubt or self-confidence, depending on your leaning, and especially to resist giving over your opinion of yourself to others—which means not to seek fame or recognition, which can restrain rather than open your possibility for artistic development. With all this in mind, not to expect anything and to be grateful for any true, non-exploitative opportunity that presents itself, however modest. And to understand that being able to say “I don’t know what to do with my life” is an incredible privilege that 99% of the rest of the world will never enjoy.
There’s a quotation from Picasso on the inside cover of Building Stories: “Everything you can imagine is real.” You said at Unity Temple that you can remember stories your grandmother told you and how they looked in your head more vividly than some events that actually occurred in your own life. There’s that part in one of the Building Stories booklets where one of the characters dreams that she finds an amazing book she wrote, and even though it only ever existed in her subconscious, it confirmed for her that she had that potential in her. I’d never considered giving so much validity to a reality that’s so personal and in-your-head and fictionalized, and I found it very comforting. So, how did you figure that out on your own—that something that exists only in your mind could have a valid enough reality to be a comfort?
Well, really, our memories are all we have, and even those we think of as “real” are made up. Art can condense experience into something greater than reality, and it can also give us permission to do or think certain things that otherwise we’ve avoided or felt ashamed of. The imagination is where reality lives; it’s the instant lie of backwash from the prow of that boat that we think of as cutting the present moment, everything following it becoming less and less “factual” but no less real than what we think of as having actually occurred.
Normally your books are quite carefully put together, and reading them can be like solving a maze—the order and arrangement of the panels is very purposeful and important.Building Stories is a box of books and pamphlets and broadsides and the like, but you’ve set no guidelines for where to start or finish. Why?
I wanted to make a book that had no beginning or end, and, despite the incredible pretentiousness of how that sounds, to try and get at the three-dimensionality of memories and stories—how we’re able to tell them starting at this or that point depending on the circumstance, and to take them apart and put them back together, whether to actually try and make sense of our lives or simply to tell reassuring lies to ourselves. I also wanted to make a book that seemed fun to read, and the idea of a box of nonthreatening booklets has always appealed to me. Also, I had a dream about exactly such an object.
O resto tá aqui.
A Pixar liberou um poster da continuação de Monstros S.A.. A prequel do filme anterior foi rebatizada por aqui como Universidade Monstros, previsto pra sair em junho de 2013. Valente tá quase lá, mas ainda sem a pegada da primeira leva de filmes da Pixar. Contando com Carros 2, são dois filmes seguidos sem o espírito que fez a fama do estúdio. Grande a pressão em cima de Mike e Sullivan – e dessa vez sem a Boo.
Os donos dos direitos do Django original vão relançar o filme em 17 cidades dos Estados Unidos antes da estreia do filme do Tarantino. Soltaram um trailer anunciando o relançamento. Aliás, ontem o Bleeding Cool noticiou que o Tarantino voltou com o filme pra sala de edição, pra deixar a produção menor do que as três horas e doze minutos da primeira versão. No Imdb consta que a cópia final terá duas horas e vinte e um minutos.
É claro que ia acontecer, ainda mais depois da bilheteria do filme do Seth MacFarlane. Agora você pode ter o seu próprio Ted. Tá a venda lá no site da NBC por U$34,99. E ele fala 12 frases diferentes:
– I look like something you give your kid when you tell them grandma died.
– C’mon, I don’t sound that much like Peter Griffin.
– That’s my bad, I was sending a tweet.
– The Brewski run.
– I wuv you.
– Okay, alright, so that’s where we’ll draw the line.
– You know what I’d like to do to her, something I call a Dirty Fozzie.
– Will you take care of me for ever and ever!
– Good Talk Coach.
– Stick your finger in the loop of my tag.
– C’mere ya bastard.
– I didn’t know you had a baby, is it alive?