There are a number of elements that factor into sequential storytelling: page design, background, lighting, staging, and a handful of others — but the one I find myself leaning on the most to carry across a narrative is my characters’ acting, and by extension character interaction.

Not to assume at any theatrical skill on my part, but I like to think I’ve seen enough movies and TV shows (good and bad) to know how effective acting can be a powerful storytelling tool.  I’ve broken it down into sub-facets to help illustrate the point:

Expression covers not only facial distortion but also speech delivery.  The wrong look can make a bit of dialogue ambiguous, which is one of the worst things in a visual medium.  It is worth learning that anger isn’t merely a furrowed brow and that surprise isn’t simply bulging eyes.  It is equally worthwhile to remember that someone yelling doesn’t always bear teeth and that someone smiling is not necessarily squinting as well.  Think about the dialogue being delivered (if you have a full script), and more often than not the right expression for your character will present itself to you.  This is where observing the nuanced performances of the likes of Gary Oldman and Meryl Streep pay off.

Body Language and Gesture come into play when wide angle shots or limited panel space leave facial features too distant to make out.  With the right physical presence, any character is able to deliver thought and intent without ever having to say a word.  Some masters of silent sequentials are Stuart Immonen, Frank Quitely, and Dave Gibbons.

Props are of use when a character not only interacts with another, but also with his environment.  Different people will have different ways of holding their glasses, just as one man may angrily rip a phonebook in half in a burst of rage while another will tear the pages out one by one as his anger builds.  In this sense, it helps to know the kind of character you are portraying so that you can vicariously perform the action for him.  Some films I would recommend for prop use are Ocean’s Eleven, Scent of a Woman, and The Usual Suspects.

This fun theme ran for two weeks to coincide with what we predicted was going to be X-Men fever as everyone and her mother was going gaga over Fassbender.  Unfortunately, I caught the bug half way through and could only participate for half the designated period.  Still had a lot of fun with my pieces though, and the experiments I was able to play with are definitely worth revisiting.

Posted here are all of my illustrations.

Visit the site for the whole crew’s art.

Recently visited my home in Cebu and went rifling through my trash.  Found this fan-service-intensive pin-up of Urban Animal from 2002, when it had a different title.  To be honest, I don’t even know who those three women are, or if I ever had any intention of writing them into the story, but yeah… boobies.

Every so often, someone calls my attention to a new tool or technique that will, as they say, ostensibly make the creation of art a lot easier/faster/better.  The latest version of Photoshop.  The new Wacom tablet.  The new graphite Staedtler is cutting their leads with.  I call this ‘The Myth of the Magic Pencil’, partly because it just has a nice ring to it… but mostly because I find these ideas to be more about hats than rabbits.  As much as I like to babble about method and style in the creation of my art, I don’t tend to linger on the tools.  Maybe I’m just backward like that, I don’t know… but I just feel this fixation on gadgetry renders you prone to falling flat on your ass because you were admiring your shoes too much.

Call me a dinosaur or a snob, but I’m of the belief that there is no such thing as a magic pencil.  No single tool can make you a better artist.  In a sense, all these things cooperate and contribute to a self-actualized artistic whole that functions through you, the draftsman.  So quite realistically, the illustrator himself is the magic pencil the ancients speak of.  None of it is magic, because ALL of it is.  All of it.  The light in your studio.  The breeze coming through the blinds.  Your posture.  The coffee in your pot.  That last good movie you saw.  That last great book you read.  The music you play.  The silence you enjoy.

The sweat in your brow.

The throb in your eye.

The pain in your wrist.

All of it.

At the end of the day, it’s all there and waiting for you.  It’s just a matter of using it.