Blog

Today Professor Dan Werneck from Brazil is going to share with us some of his thoughts—and anxieties—as he prepares to teach his first comics class.  I hope we can convince him to report back here once the course is underway or perhaps after it’s finished to let us know how things all turned out–and what kind of ink he and his students make. In the meantime, this guest post is also an invitation to dialogue so please contribute your ideas in the comments.

—Matt

I stole the title of this post from Ray Bradbury. He once said that, in order to become a professional writer, you need to jump off a cliff first. After you start to fall, you may start making yourself a parachute. That is exactly what I’ve been doing in the last couple of days, and Matt and Jessica have kindly allowed me to share my parachute, I mean, my ideas with all of you.

Allow me a short introduction. My name is Daniel, and after being punished in kindergarten, pre-school, high school, college, master’s and doctorate programs for reading and making comics, I finally got my PhD and a position as a professor at the best art school in Brazil. Now that I’m playing on the opposite side of the game, I want to give my students at least a little bit of the comics education I never received as an undergrad.

So I proposed a comics workshop to the university, open to the general public. It will be a 60-hour course, meeting weekly, discussing both theory and practice.  I intend to teach students how to make comics and self-publish them, going from script to art to folding, stapling and selling their own comics.

The only problem is, I’ve never done this before.

illustration © Daniel Werneck

What, comics? Oh yeah, I’ve done some. You have never read any of them, and probably never will, but I’ve been making comics off-and-on since I learned how to fold and staple a piece of paper with my scribbles on it. What I’ve never done is teach a comics course.

When I needed to write the course’s syllabus, the first book that came to my mind was, you guessed it, Drawing Words & Writing Pictures. With its well-thought class structure and activities, it is by far the most comprehensive, creative and interesting book on making comics I have ever encountered. Of course Eisner and McCloud have a lot to add with their books, and I intend to force the students to read their stuff too, but to actually organize the course, I’ll have to stand on Matt and Jessica’s shoulders, so I can see further and figure out what to do.

The most difficult thing is to imagine what kind of student will show up. Who wants to make comics? Kids? Teenagers? Adults? Seniors? Men, women, hermaphrodites? I need to be ready for anything. What if my class is invaded by a horde of manga aficionados, and all I want to talk about is Krazy Kat and Peanuts? Or maybe there will be a lot of girls, and my opinions on Spiderman will be boring to them. Worst case scenario: I’ll have have all kinds of people at the same time, and the class will become a Tower of Babel of references.

On the other hand, that would also be the best case scenario. The more different people I find, the more ideas will clash, and the result will be anything but boring. Anyway, I’ll start with some history of comics, because no matter how old they are and what their tastes are, in this day and age it is very reasonable to assume that most of the students will have no idea of who George Herriman, Winsor McCayand Milton Caniff were.

Another strength of this course will be the practice. We’ll be at an art school, and I want to show them all kinds of papers, inks and tools to work with. I’m tired of the same old answers, repeated over and over again: “I use Strathmore bristol boards Col-Erase pencils and Pitt pens”. Boring! Let’s try different papers, pencils, erasers. I’m pretty sure most students I’ll meet have never tried drawing with a nib before. I’ll give them a chance to try, and also screen tones, crayons, wax pencils, tusche, dry pastel, oil pastel, watercolor. Let’s make our own ink, and cut nibs out of birds’ feathers and bamboo sticks! Let’s make our own paper!

Well, I’m getting a bit carried away here, but you get the idea.

Last but not least, I want these students to learn how to actually make their own comic books. I know some of them only want to get a job at Marvel and have a shot at drawing a Wolverine comic, but I want them to experience the pains and pleasures of printing, stapling, folding and selling their own comics; the joy of trading comics with fellow artists, the challenge of selling comics at conventions, or just going out in the streets and selling comics to random people passing by. All of those things are an essential part of comics, no matter if you are a famous big shot or just a new kid.

Anyway, that’s what I’ve been researching for the last couple of days.  I know I’ve talked too much here, so now I’d like to hear from you. Do you think I’m doing something wrong with my planning? What do you think my workshop should include? Do you know any other books I should be talking about with the kids? What comics do I have to show them when I talk about comics history? Do you have a good recipe for making ink?

Thanks so much for reading so far, and thanks again Matt and Jessica for letting me use this space, and for their amazingly inspiring book!

Prof. Daniel Werneck, PhD, is a professor at a public university in Brazil. During the day, he teaches animation, using comics as a tool for helping students develop skills such as storytelling, character design, composition, color theory, and many other concepts that are vital for a visual artist. However… after midnight… hagridden by an ancient malediction, Professor Werneck turns into a terrifying creature known simply as ‘Dust’! This horrid freak is a pulp fiction writer and illustrator who edits a dreadful pulp fiction magazine! Dust is currently working on its first graphic novel, due October 2011. Will professor Werneck succeed in stopping this frightening evil monster, getting rid of the curse?