It's con season and Mythopoeia is hitting the road again! We'll be attending the following conventions:
We're still in talks with a couple of other shows, so stay tuned to find out where else we'll be! Have a show that you want to recommend? Leave a comment below!
Hey folks, Vince here! I’m one of the creators of the comic series Skies of Fire and Glow, and just can’t stop talking about stories! Seriously, just ask one of our other creators Ray, who has had to listen to hundreds of story ideas over the years :P But, that’s enough about me. What we’re really here for is to talk about the importance of paneling in a comic.
What is a Panel?
Just so we’re on the same page, we first need to define what a panel is in comics. According to Merriam-Webster, a comic panel is: a frame of a comic strip.
a frame of a comic strip…
Well, that doesn’t help much. Why is it limited to a comic strip?!? Needless to say, we need a better definition for what a comic panel is. Luckily, I stumbled upon quite an adequate one on Wikipedia of all places:
A panel is an individual frame, or single drawing, in the multiple-panel sequence of a comic strip or comic book. A panel consists of a single drawing depicting a frozen moment.
This is a lot better than the Merriam-Webster one for sure! Doesn’t limit a panel to a frame, or a comic strip!
Not really sure about the “depicting a frozen moment” part though. Below is a panel from issue #1 of Glow. Here, Caszy and Koken tag-team to capture a contraption that is on the fritz. As you can see, we follow the actions of Caszy by “ghosting” her movements across frame. Since you see multiple moments using this technique, wouldn’t this image NOT be considered a panel according to our definition?
Since we have disproven that statement, let’s settle on the definition below:
A panel is an individual frame, or single drawing, in the multiple-panel sequence of a comic strip or comic book.
Perfect! Simple, and to the point.
Panels are the smallest “beat” of a comic. If you think of a story that is made up of three acts, these can be broken down into scenes, which can be further broken down into panels (in the case of comics). This is where the play-by-play happens. One panel can be an action/cause, swiftly followed by the next panel, being the reaction/effect. By stringing together a selection of well-placed panels, you can create an action-packed fight sequence, or quietly reveal deep secrets between two characters in a conversation.
For the cinematically inclined, one can compare panels to individual shots in a scene. Hitchcock said it best in an interview, where simply juxtaposing similar shots in different ways, the director can create different scenarios in the viewer’s mind.
Here we see Hitchcock smiling at a lady and child - Sympathetic Old Man.
Here are the same shots of Hitchcock, replacing the lady and child with a woman in a bikini - Dirty Old Man? You decide.
Using this simple example, you can see the power of paneling. These basic blocks of storytelling are vital in transmitting information to the audience in a visual and fresh way. You don’t need any words, simply order the panels in a way that the reader can infer something about the character or moment.
Now that we know what a panel is and its value in the medium, let’s jump into the history of panels, their cultural variances, and some tips on developing an awesome story through them.
History of Panels (Yay…)
Believe it or not, panels are older than comic books. Since the dawn of painting and art, artists have had to tackle the big problem of how to visually represent time? The solution? Create panels. Separate the images so people can follow them visually and generate the story in their minds.
Some of the earliest examples can be found in Egyptian Hieroglyphs, as well as Greek and Roman sculptures and friezes. One of my favorites is Trajan’s Column. It depicts the victory of Rome over the Dacian people.
The story spirals around the column, and viewers can “read” the story by starting at the bottom of the spiral and snaking upwards. Though there are no distinct cuts between panels, the imagery helps the reader determine when an event ends and another begins.
These early forms of paneling were crucial in visual story development. It gave guidelines to the viewer on how to digest the story. These advancements can still be felt today. As the Ancient Greeks and Romans wrote left to right, their visual stories were also designed to be read in the same direction. Today, western comics still adhere to this tradition, with readers reading from the top left, to the bottom right. In Asia, the movement was in reverse, hence manga and other Eastern comic literature must be read from top right to bottom left.
Reading comics: West vs. East
During the Medieval Ages, up until the 1700s, comics and panels didn’t see much major advancement in Europe. Due to the exhausting engraving/art techniques, visual storytelling was often relegated to single-panel images. They were simply visual additions to the written narratives of books. In Asia, however, cultures were developing towards more detailed and comprehensive sequential art. Lots can be said about this period, but that’s for another time.
By the 19th and 20th centuries, new printing and art techniques pushed comics towards what we are more familiar with. Comic strips (stories contained within four panels or less) became a staple in newspapers. Terms like “panels” that make up “sequential art” were coined by Will Eisner and other creative giants of the era. Entire comic books were being created, and a new industry was born.
In this period, cinema also found its foothold in the world. Being both visual mediums, filmmaking and comics went hand in hand. Storyboarding became a helpful tool for filmmakers to visualize movies. Comic artists and creators often utilized film footage to help their drawings and panel work. Walt Disney married the two mediums though animation. Indeed, a story of panels is as much one of cinema as it is for comics.
Over time, artists learned to create new meaning, moods, and ideas through the panel. Not only were panels used as a technical tool keep the story moving, it became an artistic tool to emotionally charge the story.
Panel Size (Super-Size Me!)
Unlike cinema, comics aren’t limited by the size of the screen. While most movies now adhere to some form of frame size (16:9, 2.35:1), comics have the distinct difference of creating panels of varying sizes. You can have a Splash Page (full page panel), or perhaps a selection of consecutive box panels (like a comic strip). The options are limited only by the page.
There is no right or wrong when picking a panel size. Art is subjective, and artists often have to deal with varying requirements or constraints. Nevertheless, there is a basic language when it comes to panel sizes.
With Size, the main value comes in pacing the story. This deals with how much art the reader’s eye has to digest before moving on to the next image. A Splash Page, for example would technically take up the same viewing time as a selection of smaller panels in the same space. The splash would therefore be a longer “time beat” as you focus your time on only one image. Splashes are great for establishing shots, or wrapping up a scene. They give the reader a moment to set the scene, or digest what they’ve just read.
A splash page from Tintin: Land of Black Gold compared to a standard Tintin page. Tintin comics are known for their “boxy” panelling. However, this splash page really emphasizes the plight of Tintin and his friends as they march hopelessly through the empty desert.
Smaller panels give the reader less time to view the art, quickening the pace of the sequence. Smaller panels are great to accelerate the pace for a fight sequence, or a moment of tension (think Sergio Leone showdowns). Throw in some extreme-close-ups and you’ve got yourself a brawl.
Two pages from Frank Miller’s 300. Notice the usage of small panels to emphasize the quick blows in the shot. Overlapping the panels give an added feeling of haste.
Knowing how to pace your comic between splash pages, half-splashes, and sporadic mini-panels is an art in of itself. Not only does it need to work visually on the page, but it shouldn’t feel too quick or too slow between panels either.
One technique that plays on panel sizes is the fade to black or white. As in the example below from Wicked + Divine, you can visually represent a cinematic fade by shortening the panel boxes until it’s nothing but white or black. It’s a nice touch to slow a reader’s pace to a halt and prime them to start a new scene.
Panel Shape (Going Full Circle)
Defining panel shapes is another great way to imbue your story with tension and feeling. Though box panels tend to be a pervading force in comics and its history (think Tintin), artists have continually tried to push these boundaries for different effects.
The slanted, or canted, panel style is a great example of design for emotion. As humans, we like things to be straight, whether horizontally or vertically. When something is a bit off, it sets off alarms. Our brain kicks into gear - “Wait, are we off balance? Something’s not right…”
A staple in horror movies, we can translate this into comics not only by the image, but also by the shape of the panel.
An example from Katsuhiro Otomo’s Akira. Notice that all the panels are slanted. Coupled with canted imagery, the result is unsettling.
But it doesn’t end there. Wanna really bring on the creep? What about panels without straight lines? This kind of panelling can be found in Sandman.
How artists frame their images is almost as important as the images themselves. They play to the aesthetic or the story. Dream sequences might not have any borders, instead allowing different images to melt into one another to become a confusing mess.
As we saw in the Sandman example, crooked lines can create tension. But, using the same technique, another artist can create a sense of childish naivete to match their style.
Cul de Sac by Richard Thompson
How can the same technique create two different outcomes? Do we need to refine our definitions, or is there more at work? I like to think the latter is true.
Panel shapes and size are simply variables with limitless combinations and designs. By understanding the basics, artists can think outside the box (see what I did there? :D) and come up with new ways to inspire the reader to think and understand.
That’s All Folks… For Now.
There is so much more that can be discovered about panels and what you can put inside them (or even between them!). But, that’s for another time. People have spent their entire lives on the subject and there are many books out there that can give you a more detailed insight on the subject matter.
The Five C’s of Cinematography by Joseph V. Mascelli is a great book for the technically and theoretically inclined. Yes, it’s a filmmaker's book, but since a ton of comics are making their way to the silver screen, it’s probably the more suitable choice. Also, check out the Visual Language Lab. This guy puts the science into art and it's all really cool!
Till next time,
Vince out ;)
When you read a comic, do you look at the pictures or words first?
I love asking this question to everyone I meet. For the longest time I was under the assumption that everyone viewed comics the same way I did growing up: reading the words first, followed by the pictures. Sure, good art was important to me, but words were the thing about a comic. Sometimes I’d go entire issues or trades barely looking at the images, letting the dialogue and narration of a story carry me through.
Vince, on the other hand, grew up experiencing comics in the inverse; he would scan the image before the words. I didn’t know that until it was brought up in conversation one day while working on Skies of Fire. Before then, it never occurred to me that people would have different ways of experiencing the medium.
So is one way inherently better than the other? I think if you ask most people they would say of course not! But then how about this question: does the way you experience comics affect your taste in them? And the followup: How?
A good example I like to use is Geoff Darrow’s Shaolin Cowboy, a comic we at Mythopoeia adore. It’s tremendously detailed yet almost bereft of words. Instead, the comic focuses on beat by beat action storytelling that rivals any great Kung Fu flick.
On the back of the hardcover of Shaolin Cowboy is the following quote by The Comic Pusher: “This feels like simple, hollow artistic masturbation in four colors, stapled with a barcode for the suckers to lose three fifty on.”
(The Comic Pusher actually has really awesome and thoughtful content. Wish he would still update!)
It’s displayed proudly next to unrelenting praise by comic luminaries Mike Mignola, Stan Sakai, and a slew of others. Did the reviewer from The Comic Pusher simply not get it? Or is it that hes simply used to experiencing comics differently? That’s what I thought anyway when I read the quote.
It’s funny because I think maybe ten years ago I would’ve agreed with him, but having started making my own comics I find myself aligning with that more visually-driven style. Both Glow and Skies of Fire are image-first books where we very consciously try to let the visuals do the heavy lifting.
Why do we do make comics like this? Well, a lot has to do with our training. Both Vince and I went to film school, where the first lesson they teach you is that a story should be able to be understood strictly through images. Our professors taught us that if we were to mute a movie, we should still more or less be able to figure out what’s going on. We’ve made no secret that our projects began life as screenplays or teleplays.
Comics are not movies, as a lot of our critics like to point out :). And of course there are a lot of ways to combine pictures and words. One of the limitations in the way of creating comics like we do is that for the most part our wordplay tends to be limited towards spoken dialogue or sound effects. There’s a lot more interesting ways to push the interaction between words and pictures in interesting ways. Our friend Greg Needham’s Mixed Signals comes to mind:
Regardless, I’m not writing to defend or vilify any artist’s style. People are free to create and enjoy what they want, and it’s that rich tapestry of variety that makes comics -- and all art, for that matter -- beautiful. Pictures or words. Which one do you look at first? And have you ever tried it the other way around?
Hey guys! My name is Vince and I am one of the creators of the Glow comic that is currently out on Kickstarter. Please check us out if guns and golems, mutants and magic, witches and warlords are your thing!
If you’ve found yourself here, you most likely wish to kickstart a project of your own or might just be interested in what we do. This is our fourth time back on the platform, and I thought it would be cool to share some ideas that worked for us in making our projects a success. So let’s jump right in!
Why have a good video?
Kickstarter is an awesome platform for indie comic creators to make their stories come true. Not only is the comic section of Kickstarter quite healthy, but you can show off pages and concept art to really stir the crowd into helping it make it happen. The visual aspect of comics is much more powerful than just writing out a story synopsis and a paragraph on how it will look.
At the top of each campaign, you also have a space to drop in a video.
This isn’t necessary, but is a great way to make an awesome first impression, and you only get one chance at that. A video can show your passion for the project, add a fitting tone for your work through music, and offer a concise explanation of your goals and story.
Ray, my co-writer, and I are staunch believers in using the video element to its fullest potential. We both graduated from film school, so we understood its importance going in.
Here are our top 5 tips of making your video on Kickstarter:
1. If you gotta shoot, shoot. Don’t talk...
In this modern age of HD digital cameras and fiber-optic internet, viewers have come to expect quality when they press play on a video. You might be strapped for cash (probably why you are kickstarting in the first place), but getting good quality equipment is a firm investment into making good videos and bringing in more funds for your magnum opus.
Your video should mirror your project in quality. It’s a way viewers can gain confidence in what you do, and assures them that you are in full control of what you are presenting. Seeing your face for the first time with some great lighting and HD goodness is a good start for any kickstarter. It makes your video approachable and lends a face behind the project.
Of course, quality comes with a price. For Ray and I, we use the Nikon D7000 from our film school days. It’s a solid DSLR camera that offers 1080p video and was pretty competitive in quality back in 2010. Since then, better (and cheaper) cameras have come out, so you have a better assortment of toys to pick from.
2. Aziz, Light!
The next thing is lighting. Sure, you could shoot outside on a sunny day, but you’ve got uncontrollable factors like wind and sound. You’d want to shoot somewhere where it’s quiet, and you are undisturbed. Even with a quality camera, low/bad lighting can break your video. But, don’t worry. There is a cheap solution to this – the China Ball!
This wonderful contraption can be picked up at your local hardware store for as little as 15 dollars! Stick a 200W bulb in one of these paper lanterns and you’ve got some amazing soft light for your video. They even use these things on blockbuster films, like The Dark Knight. Hey, if it’s good for Bats, it’s good for us!
3. Can you hear me now?
This is one thing even filmmakers sometimes forget about. Directors often care more about getting good video than capturing good sound. After all, you can always “fix” the sound in post, right?
True, but you don’t want to go there. It is painstaking work, and the result can actually be terrible. Let’s make it clear:
SOUND IS JUST AS, IF NOT, MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE VIDEO!
Bad sound can be distracting, and at times, unnerving. The hiss from a camera microphone is enough to make someone click the back button. It’s also a telltale sign of an amateur video.
To fix the problem, we use the Audio Technica ATR 3350 Condenser Lavalier. Don’t worry about the name. All you have to know is that it’s easy to use, produces nice sound, and is dirt-cheap!
At about 36 dollars, this is a bargain! The jack plugs into a standard mic input. Just switch it on and off you go. You’ve got a good cord distance, and its small size ensures that you can hide it under your collar.
4. Short and Sweet
All right, so we have a camera, our awesome China ball, and a microphone clamped to our chest. We shoot the video. Great! What next?
Time to edit your video! I use Final Cut Pro 7 to edit our videos. It’s professional grade and really intuitive to use once you get a hang of it. You don’t need to go so far to cut your video together. As long as you have the time and are willing to put the effort, any editing software will suffice.
What’s more important is what you do with your edits.
5. Soundtrack and Effects
Cool, so you have your images and your interviews put together in a rough video. Now comes time to finesse the work. Ray and I always want our videos to be as dynamic as possible in order to capture the tone and mood of the comic we are presenting. We do this in two ways: music and easy motion effects on our comic panels.
I hope you guys enjoyed this post and found something handy in order to help you on your own Kickstarter adventure! We have some more tutorials on crowdfunding on this website, so please feel free to browse around!
And if our work strikes your fancy, please check out our current Kickstarter for Glow here.
If you have any thoughts or questions, please feel free to comment or message us at www.mythopoeia.us/contact.
Till next time, keep glowing!