Don't ask me if I've abandoned my color-filled style of painting . . .
As far as I can remember, I've loved black and white art. It began with black crayons on white sheets of paper on the backs of mom's student exams. When someone mentions comics, my mind flies to black and white inky panels, not color. Perhaps it's because I spent my first years as a reader of comics in Japan, where the mangas were all black and white. Black and white has it's own set of parameters and design issues. Black on white is ecstatic. The two "colors" -one being the total absorption of light and the other, the throwing off of all light-are polar opposites. It's thrilling, its ecstatic, it's exhilarating. It's drama and conflict. Durm und strung.
The question I least like when people see my original art is: will this ultimately be in color? No. Black and white is rich, energetic, potent, unforgiving in its first impact on our retina. Think about the first mark you make on a pristine sheet of paper. The abrasion of the black crayon is like an explosion in the cosmos, the moment when matter comes to be.
Please don't say to me, I've loved your use of color; don't ever give that up. I won't, I'll reply. But black and white is my bliss.
The following page coming soon.
Published Reviews, Articles and Interviews:
Comic Book Resources Reviews Forget Sorrow: An Ancestral Tale by Comic Book Resources
Causes Belle Yang Supports
826 Valencia Street