Author: Caitlin McGurk (page 7 of 158)

New faces at the Billy Ireland!

There are a number of new faces around the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library & Museum! In the late 2024, we were able to expand our staff to create three new positions thanks in part to contributions from generous donors to support our mission. We’re thrilled to welcome Museum Project Registrar Andie Near, Museum Educator Rebecca Richardson, and Accessions and Acquisitions Archivist Michelle Maguire! Learn more about these wonderful additions to the BICLM team below:

Andie Near, Museum Project Registrar

Hello! My name is Andie and in June of 2024, I joined the Billy Ireland team to serve as Museum Project Registrar, where I oversee the coordination of logistics for our traveling exhibitions and exhibits program. I come from that state up north, where I earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts in ceramics and jewelry from Grand Valley State University and began my career in museums. I hold a Master of Arts in historical administration from Eastern Illinois University, and served most recently as Collections Manager at the Kruizenga Art Museum at Hope College—until I joined this team of amazing humans!

What I love most about my work is that there is so much to love! My role brings me up close and personal to the abundance of technically breathtaking work at the Billy. While I enjoy the diversity of my day-to-day activities, I would say that receiving and sending out shipments are major exclamation points in my work-life.

Raised during a generation of incredible print newspaper comics, I related to Calvin and Hobbes and Luann, cried with Cathy (AACK!) and wished I understood Doonesbury. As an adult, poignant and rich graphic memoirs such as George Takei’s They Called us Enemy, and Beth Trembly’s Look Again helped inform my understanding of the world we live in. Since moving to Columbus, I frequently find myself at the library in search of any graphic story that peaks my interest.

Outside of work, you will probably find me out in the woods, cooking and spending time with friends and family, or in my sewing room. …Or on the couch with a comic book.

Rebecca Richardson, Museum Educator

My name is Rebecca and I’m the museum educator at the Billy Ireland. Prior to this position, I worked at the Wexner Center for the Arts where I supported educational programming. My roots are in K-12 education where I taught K-12 art and high school English. I have a A.A in English from Hudson County Community College and a B.A in English Secondary Education from New Jersey City University.

A few of my favorite graphic novels right now are One Hundred Demons by Lynda Barry, Ay, Mija! by Christine Suggs, Hot Comb by Ebony Flowers, and Huda F Cares by Huda Fahmy. Outside of work I make comics and zines. I also run when it’s above 30 degrees with a reasonable wind chill. To all you dedicated winter runners, kudos!

What most excites me most about working here? Well today, Andie called me over to look at some original art by Raina Telgemeier on her table sooo that’s a pretty cool thing to happen in the middle of your workday. But I’m also excited about getting more audiences here for museum programs. I like hearing sporadic laughter in the galleries when a punchline lands and showing folks how complex and versatile comics are. I also love that our upcoming programs could be the very first time someone makes a comic and that’s pretty cool 🙂

Michelle Maguire, Accessions and Acquisitions Archivist

Hey! I’m Michelle Maguire, the new Accessions and Acquisitions Archivist here at the Billy Ireland. My time is spent working with donors (sometimes the donor is creator of the work itself, sometimes they’re a friend or family member, sometimes they’re a collector and enthusiast) on the review of their materials; the logistics of getting their materials into our space—everything from books, to original cartoons, to personal items which include things like sketchbooks, fan mail, hate mail, correspondence between friends, receipts of the trade…anything that helps to paint a picture of the day-to-day life of a cartoonist; and then ultimately processing those materials to make them accessible to scholars, researchers and fans from around the world to study and enjoy. My job is great because I get to see and handle everything that comes in, while establishing relationships with donors and stewarding artists’ legacies.

As a kid in Canton, Ohio in the 80s I was excited by images and printed matter. Newspapers around the house meant I grew up reading the Sunday comics section. A magical corner of my grandparents’ basement held a constant flow of boxes containing unclaimed possessions of people who’d stored them in my family’s moving and storage business, introducing me to things like Life and Playboy and the wonderfully absurd National Enquirer. Discovering MAD on the racks at the drugstore, and National Lampoon by visiting friends whose older siblings had subscriptions. I equally loved flipping through pages of things that seemed “undesigned”—catalogs for Sears and JCPenney and whatever other mail-order offers showed up. Even getting my hands on the TV Guide felt exciting. All of these things certainly played a role in shaping my future love for layered meaning, deadpan humor, parody, and wordplay. Today my desire for looking at material from the past continues to deepen as the world around me becomes increasingly slick and sanitized.

I studied photography and graphic design at Pratt Institute before making the switch to library science, thanks to overhearing a conversation about a librarian whose job was to manage a collection of vintage postcards of “boring motels across America.” (Sign me UP.) Since earning my MLIS in 2004, my career has allowed me to weave together my artistic, curatorial and organizational sensibilities, which includes 14 years in the History of Art department’s Visual Resources Library here at OSU, followed by a five-year freelance gig as a prop and set stylist on commercial and editorial photoshoots.

Outside of work, I like to spend my time digging through special collections at various libraries and making books. (Prior to joining the Billy Ireland I finished a nine-month fellowship at the most terrific New York Public Library Picture Collection, where I discovered a fondness for quick-witted gag cartoonists like Otto Soglow, Gardner Rea and Ed Koren.) I’m inspired by the endless possibilities of an archive—how the materials provide insight into artists’ concerns, and a glimpse into their brilliant minds, personalities and senses of humor. Spaces of contemplation, archives help to spark new ideas for a researcher, and have the remarkable power to motivate, invigorate, and activate.

I’m constantly losing my mind over what the Billy Ireland collection comprises. The scope of what we hold—everything from 19th-century manga to historical newspaper printing objects like flongs to Wacky Packages trading cards—is an astounding wealth of wild treasure. I’m a big fan of promo swag, collectible memorabilia, and souvenirs and ephemera, so I’ve been slowly making my way through our boxes of items amassed by underground comix cartoonist Jay Lynch, which contain everything from food wrappers, can labels and product packaging to decals, business cards and rubber stamp company catalogs.

I’m always sniffing around for things that I respond to visually, and working here I’m surrounded. I love studying sketches and drafts of a work (marked up with editors’ notes for revision), comparing the original art to the way it appeared in the finished, published piece; admiring the skilled hand in the lettering; getting lost in a brushstroke, a printmaking mis-registration, the flourishes within a title panel, the dynamic expression of emotion and movement in a static medium. I feel enormously lucky to have joined a team whose mission is to celebrate, preserve, and share printed cartoon history. Every day’s a new thrill!

Researcher Spotlight: Margaret Galvan on LGBTQ+ Comics

Dr. Margaret Galvan was a recipient of the 2023 Lucy Shelton Caswell Research Award. Galvan is Assistant Professor of Visual Rhetoric in the Department of English at the University of Florida. Her research examines how visual culture operates within social movements and includes her book, In Visible Archives: Queer and Feminist Visual Culture in the 1980s from University of Minnesota Press. The following is her report on her time spent at the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library & Museum in 2023.

Dr. Margaret Galvan and the Lee Binswanger Collection

For more than a decade, I’ve been researching comics by LGBTQ+ creators. I’ve traveled to roughly two dozen archives in the U.S., UK, and Canada, drawn upon growing collections online, and have even begun building my own collection of rare LGBTQ+ comics. In much of my research, I’ve been accessing these comics through queer and feminist archives and getting a sense of how these cartoonists mattered within these communities. When I heard that I had received the 2023 Lucy Shelton Caswell Research Award to conduct research in the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library and Museum, I was thrilled to get an opportunity to examine LGBTQ+ cartoonists from another perspective, thinking about their relationships with the larger comics industry and connections in particular to underground and independent comics scenes.

This generous fellowship supported me in nearly two weeks’ worth of research in the collections in July 2023, which gave me a chance to dive deep and cover a wide range of materials. In recent years, there’s been an explosion of queer comics publishing and scholarship; my research focuses on how there’s still a large swath of queer comics history that remains relatively uncharted. The book project that I was researching at the Billy Ireland focuses on how LGBTQ+ cartoonists built community and innovated comics in the 1980s-1990s. With that in mind, what I want to share here are two big “light bulb” moments I had over the course of my research and think about what they can tell us about how we collect and remember LGBTQ+ cartoonists.

Over the first two days of my visit, I pored over the biographical files of roughly 80 LGBTQ+ cartoonists, which were a rich trove of information. While some files consisted of clippings about the artists compiled in-house, half of the files contained information sent by the artists themselves. Lucy Shelton Caswell started the biographical registry of cartoonists in 1991—a historic moment when most LGBTQ+ cartoonists weren’t able to participate in the wider comics industry. These cartoonists responded immediately, most of them sending their forms between late 1991 and early 1992. A majority of the responses were from lesbian cartoonists—Andrea Natalie had created the Lesbian Cartoonists’ Network the previous year and would give out the addresses of group members to publishers, editors, and other reputable individuals. All of the lesbian respondents were affiliated with the organization. The registry consisted of a double-sided form that asked cartoonists about the details of their career, serving as an invaluable snapshot of factual information. By soliciting their information for the collection, Caswell welcomed them to be included in comics history. In correspondence to Caswell archived with her biographical file, Rhonda Dicksion recognized the importance of this gesture: “Thank you for asking me to be included in your registry of cartoonists. I consider it a great honor. I’m also thankful (and amazed) that the cartoons that I produce are so popular. It’s a rare treat to be able to follow your bliss, have fun, and receive a little acclaim, too. But then, you must know about that—your job’s bound to be a lot of fun, too.” In this brief paragraph, she draws a connection between the passionate nature of her work and Caswell’s.

As much as these forms are important sources of biographical information, what interested me was how these cartoonists responded in ways that made visible how the registry’s questions were erasing the careers and lives of LGBTQ+ individuals.[i] On the front of the form, in a section entitled “major cartoon-related awards,” two artists pushed back. Rona Chadwick gently noted, “I haven’t won any yet but what I would aspire to, when they think of it, is the Feminist Cartoonist of the Year Award,” naming an imagined award that did not yet exist. By contrast, Michelle Rau was more direct: “Are you kidding? Feminist cartoons would NEVER win awards in any competition sponsored and judged by white, middle-class, heterosexual men.” Her remarks gesture towards why so many of her fellow respondents left this section blank.

On the back side, in the “Family Information” section reserved to list ostensibly heterosexual partners and children, many of the cartoonists modified the form to make their intimate lives visible, while others, even those in committed relationships, left it blank, leaving their families unrecognized in the same way they would be on so many official forms. The section asked in a seemingly straightforward manner for “Marital status (Please circle one): Single/Married/Widowed/Divorced” with further room provided to specify “Spouse’s complete name,” followed by three lines for “Children’s names” and their “Birth date[s].” Leslie Ewing asked, above her circling of “Married:” “Does joined at the hip count????” and added “long-time companion” over “spouse’s complete name,” specifying that she and Rebecca Le Dere had been together for ten years. When Howard Cruse added “Domestic Partnership” at the end of the list, he wrote a note in red felt tip pen pointing to his addition, “Should be on your standard form, folks!” In circling “Single,” Fish drew an arrow to the margin where she asked: “Can I say that I am single when I’ve had a girlfriend for 3 years now? This question is a bit antiquated.” As an addendum to her selecting “Married,” Nikki Gosch wrote “to a woman (unofficial as gay marriage is not recognized at this time). We have been committed since 7/11/1988.” (As a reminder, it would be almost two and a half decades until marriage and its privileges were extended broadly to LGBTQ+ individuals living in the U.S.)

Some cartoonists also added in their cats and dogs in this section, acknowledging the different makeup of their families. Diane DiMassa amended “children’s names” to “cats’ names” and recognized the three fur children that she was raising with her long-time partner, Stacy A. Sheehan: Goalie Jane Wilson, Frank Russell Sheehan, and Iggy Henry Sheehan. Nikki Gosch named both “Peanut (tabby cat)” and “Bosco (black cat),” and added that she and her partner Deirdre Lynn Smith were “thinking seriously about becoming pregnant! Will keep you updated :)!” For her marital status, Kris Kovick listed “Queer w/ dog,” adding “Thunder Kovick” as her spouse rather than her child as her fellow cartoonists had done. For children, Amy E. Kyes wrote, “A dog named Tori!—She’s regularly featured in my cartoon strips.” A later version of the form that a couple lesbian cartoonists filled out in 1995 contained the same marital status options, showing the intractability of the form and how sticking to the official record mattered more than accurately recording these individuals’ lives for posterity. How the cartoonists actively countered the compulsory heterosexuality of these forms echoed their comics where they made their subcultural lives visible. Some of the cartoonists also sent along copies of their comics, such that the Billy Ireland contains some rare small press comics, including ones by Nicole Ferentz and Linda Sue Welch that I’ve not seen in any other collections.

Linda Sue Welch’s “Out of the Darkness” (1991)

Susan Liberator was a constant presence in the reading room who I shared my research with and who located some truly amazing finds in feminist and LGBTQ+ comics history that had not yet been fully processed or cataloged. Early in my visit, I mentioned to her that I had located some rare early LGBTQ+ comics that were tagged as a gift of Avis Lang and others that were marked as part of the Lee Binswanger Collection—both women I knew for their involvement in feminist comics and community building. I asked her if there was, potentially, more information beyond these cataloged comics. Liberator was able to locate the affiliated unprocessed collections and brought them out for me to look at. The Avis Lang Collection consisted of several banker’s boxes of research that Lang did when she was preparing Pork Roasts, her early feminist comics exhibit that opened at UBC Fine Arts Gallery, Vancouver in 1981, that she published in comics form, and that later traveled to the Billy Ireland. With its focus on 1970s feminist comics, the collection was outside the scope of my current project, but it is an invaluable time capsule of a history that’s still not fully told.

The Lee Binswanger Collection consisted of one slim archival box that arrived at the Billy Ireland in 2000. Aside from librarians removing and cataloging five comics that were included in the collection, the rest of the files have been sitting unprocessed and unread over those two decades.[ii] Binswanger is a feminist cartoonist who actively published in Wimmen’s Comix starting in the 1980s, publishing in issues #8-17 (1983-1992) and editing Wimmen’s Comix #8 (1983) with Kathryn LeMieux and Wimmen’s Comix #13 (1988) with Caryn Leschen. Her collection consisted of comics and correspondence that women involved with Wimmen’s Comix received in its final years for issues #16 (1990) and #17 (1992), though women continued to send along comics in the hopes of an eighteenth issue that never materialized. I spent a day and a half poring through the files and photographing nearly everything. Roughly 60 women wrote in—a third of the correspondents were lesbian cartoonists. As I already knew from reading the Lesbian Cartoonists’ Network newsletter, lesbian cartoonists were displeased with the heterosexuality of Wimmen’s Comix #16 (1990) and its themed focus on men. LCN editor Andrea Natalie encouraged her fellow cartoonists to send their work for consideration in the following issue. Their letters, which included comics, clippings, and resumes, provide vital information about these cartoonists, whose contributions are still undervalued to this day. Like the bio files, this correspondence offers essential context to learning more about these artists and shows how these artists had to work hard to advocate for themselves in a largely straight profession. Ultimately, five lesbian cartoonists affiliated with LCN, Natalie included, were featured in Wimmen’s Comix #17 (1992), but the Binswanger collection makes evident the exponentially larger world of feminist and lesbian cartoonists that was emerging at the same time that Wimmen’s Comix was unfortunately coming to a close. Sitting with this collection reminded me just how much history has not been told about this period and just how many artists remain forgotten.

Dear Trina, Angela, and Rebecca,  I'm writing to all three of you because Rebecca says frequently mail is not shared with other members of the collective.  I (and other lesbians) was surprised and disappointed to find that only one tiny panel of one page in the entire WC #16 showed a lesbian perspective of men. I was also surprised the intro was purely heterosexual. Lesbians jokingly call the book Straight Wimmen's Comix, but it doesn't seem so funny to me. I can't understand how dykes can be so invisible, especially since we've been workin' so hard through the Lesbian Cartoonists' Network to get our work out there!  When I spoke to you, Rebecca, you said the collective, as per usual, called three lesbians (and Roberta who's bisexual and doing straight toons). Only Jennifer wanted to submit. You speculated that Leslie Ewing and Alison Bechdel were either "uncomfortable with the subject ("a tribute to men")," or "burned-out on the subject."  From what you tell me no further outreach was done. You had never heard of LCN, even though I sent debut issues to Trina and the collective, care of Angela and P. Glockner. The 46 other lesbian members of LCN were completely in the dark as to the subject, deadline, editor, format, terms, etc. Those of us who made blind submissions are still unsure that Rebecca has even seen our work. We got absolutely no response — no note telling us what the subject was — not even a rejection slip.  Wimmen's Comix is a feminist endeavor open to all women, right? Lesbians are a huge part of the feminist community, and we are a sizable part of the WC readership. Poorly representing us is like People of Color Comix doing a "Tribute to Whites" with Asian, Arab, and Latina/o stories and including only one panel of African-Americans.  I've worked on collectives. I know it's exhausting and because of the loose structure things slip through the cracks. But if there's a willingness to include male artists surely energy can be found to better include lesbians. Rebecca promised to write to LCN members when the decisions for issue #17 have been made, and here are the addresses as I promised. Four of us live in San Francisco and Roxxie lives in Berkeley, runs a cartoon club and publishes a cartoon 'zine. Can you let these dykes know when the next meeting is and allow them to attend? We want to be a part of the collective and we can sure work hard. How's that for a tribute to lesbians?  In sisterhood, Andrea Natalie

1991 letter from cartoonist from Andrea Natalie complaining about the heterosexism of Wimmen’s Comix #16 (1990) that was part of the drive to have more lesbian representation in the series.

Endnotes added by the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library & Museum:

[i]  The biographical registry form was discontinued from use at BICLM in the early 2000s.

[ii] Although this collection had been inventoried, a record for it was not yet online. It has since been added to the BICLM online collections and is available here.

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