Category: Uncategorized (page 14 of 31)

Student Post: Impacts of Destruction and Building in “The Structure is Rotten, Comrade”

by Brenna Bierman

Every so often, the day to day tasks of working at the Billy Ireland allow you to come across a book, drawing, or strip that seems like it was made for you. I had this moment when a bright red book popped out of the stacks, titled The Structure is Rotten, Comrade. As an architecture student, the immediate implication of destruction, design, and rebuilding’s effect on social interaction fascinated me. Throughout the book, Viken Berberian and Yann Kebbi utilize both narrative and drawing to craft a story which thoroughly explores the power that buildings—and the architects that create them—have over the urban condition.

Frunz, the book’s protagonist, is an architect working for his father in the rapidly developing city of Yerevan, Armenia. Frunz’s father, who works for the Radical Architecture Department, seeks to create a brutalist utopia out of concrete. However, to create this utopia, a complete clearing of all previous buildings must occur. In his mind, all of the old must be rapidly cleared away to make space for the new. Wrecking balls swing wildly, destroying the city’s historic buildings as Frunz leads students on an architectural tour. As the group walks through the streets of Yerevan, Kebbi’s pastel drawings suggest the beginning of a revolution. With his group, Frunz walks through an environment of crumbling buildings and displaced people perched on Alvar Aalto stools— their only compensation for the destruction of their homes. The increasing tension between destruction and building simmers in Yerevan’s streets until discontent boils over.

The political instability in Yerevan is stressed in Yann Kebbi’s pastels. While Frunz walks through the city, there is a mixture of buildings, people, and cars at entirely different stages of completion. Each element feels fuzzy and slightly out of touch with the other parts of its environment, even though they inhabit the same space. Next to a person who is only an outline there may be a fully rendered wrecking ball, smashing into a building made from a block of solid color. Through these depictions, the elements become disassociated with each other, enhancing the idea that the people and their environment are at odds with one another. Kebbi’s drawings feel necessary for the viewer to understand the turmoil surrounding Yerevan. A fully rendered Frunz has his ankles grabbed by a homeless man who only exists as an outline. These outlined people feel like ghosts in their own city—a place being destroyed because of one man’s vision, leaving them hollow and incomplete.

Homeless man reaching for Frunz’s ankle. The Structure is Rotten, Comrade. pp. 104-105.

Underneath the graphic aspects, the implications of the plot are politically charged. The author, Viken Berberian, crafts a narrative which lays out the frustrations felt by the Armenian people. In Frunz’s world, the architect was the liberator, freeing the people and allowing them to have more. His idealism was directly at odds with the existing city, therefore it had to be destroyed to make way for the new, better system Frunz and his father would impose on the citizens. Berberian’s characterization of Frunz touches on a branch of architectural study that gained traction in the 20th century. Various articles focused around a critique of the architect as a “hero” that imposes radical changes on a population due to their own moral or ethical belief. Frunz and his father are the “hero architects” insisting on the correctness of their vision.

Homeless man reprimanding Frunz. The Structure is Rotten, Comrade. pp. 246-247.

However, they don’t account for the people’s attachment to the structures that already exist. Reflected in the citizens is the desire to retain their personhood, which is closely entwined with the city itself. In this case, increasing social unrest is a direct result of a faulty design that relies on destruction and incompetent, or uncaring, government leadership. The desire for a collective identity—which is based around the buildings that compromise the city— exposes how Yerevan’s political system and Frunz’s brutalist utopia have failed the citizens. A violent revolution is sparked by the failure to assuage the hopelessness and anxiety among the population. As expected, the revolution is fundamentally misunderstood by Frunz’s idealistic father, who tells the people he can restructure his designs. The people emphatically respond, “No restructuring, comrade. The structure is rotten.”

For people who are interested in architecture, urbanism, or revolution, this book would be a fantastic read! The Structure is Rotten, Comrade is available in the Lucy Shelton Caswell Reading Room at the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library & Museum.

 

image sources:

The Structure is Rotten Comrade

The Structure Is Rotten, Comrade

 

Researcher Spotlight: Susan Kirtley

Susan Kirtley is a Professor of English, the Director of Rhetoric and Composition, and the Director of Comics Studies at Portland State University, and recipient of our 2019 Lucy Shelton Caswell Award.  Her research interests include visual rhetoric and graphic narratives, and she has published pieces on comics for the popular press and academic journals.  Her book, Lynda Barry: Girlhood through the Looking Glass, was the 2013 Eisner winner for Best Educational/Academic work.  She served as a judge for the 2015 Eisner Awards and is currently the Secretary for the Comics Studies Society and a member of the Executive Group on Graphic Narratives for the Modern Language Association.

Below, Dr. Kirtley reflects on her time spent researching at BICLM earlier this year:

Dr. Susan Kirtley in the Lucy Shelton Caswell Reading Room

If I could, I would live in the Billy Ireland. No, really. During my research trip this summer I fantasized about bringing my puffy red sleeping bag to the museum and camping out in Snoopy’s doghouse, conveniently located in the Reading Room. For a comics researcher or fan, the Ireland is a treasure trove, a place of magic and wonder, and frankly, I never wanted to leave.

I was honored to receive the Lucy Shelton Caswell Research Award to visit the Ireland and conduct research over the summer, and every day I spent there was a gift. Before I arrived I corresponded with the library staff, who were extremely knowledgeable and helpful. They asked great questions about my project and seemed genuinely excited about my research, a study of newspaper comic strips created by women during the time of the Women’s Liberation Movement. I’m fascinated by this particularly turbulent time in American history, and I believe that comic strips help illuminate this tumultuous period as women were negotiating numerous competing demands and belief systems. The strips of the time both reflected cultural narratives and helped shaped them.

When I finally reached Columbus I was giddy with anticipation, and upon entering the Ireland I was struck by the grandeur of the space, and this is no accident. Everything about the facility is designed to celebrate the rich history, tradition, and craft of comics and cartoons. Upon arrival I was greeted warmly and given instructions on how to care for the materials I was to review. I received my white cotton gloves for the handling of fragile materials (which made my hands look a bit like Mickey Mouse’s—a delightful bonus!), and the staff had set aside cart after cart full of boxes brimming with materials relevant to my research. It was heavenly.

Each box contained new treasures. I was able to study materials I could never have seen anywhere else, and the boxes revealed to me not just the products I was studying, but the process behind them. As I dug through the boxes I was able to page through Nicole Hollander’s art journals from school (she’d received a C), as well as her notes, sketches, original art, published pieces, and correspondence. Thus I was able to witness her entire process from idea to publication. Furthermore, Hollander’s papers revealed a hidden history through her archived correspondence and legal documents. These letters uncovered the rich community Hollander developed with other cartoonists, particularly female cartoonists. In one letter Jan Eliot encouraged Nicole to pursue self-syndication. In another letter Lynda Barry discussed Hollander’s problems with rights and permissions, an issue that became even clearer when I located the actual contracts. Hollander also exchanged epistles with Alison Bechdel, commenting on syndication and success. I never would have learned about this rich but concealed past without the treasures contained within the Ireland.

And, of course, there is the art itself. I reverently studied original artwork from Lynn Johnston, marveling at her precision and technique, with every dot and line carefully and confidently placed. I felt honored to hold the original art depicting Farley the dog’s heroic passing in my hands before flipping through letter after emotional letter from fans who were touched and angered by his death.

While I sat in the corner of the Reading Room, hour after hour, thrilled with each new box that the kind and patient staff brought out, I witnessed a family gathered to see original work from Bill Watterson. The staff had brought several samples for the mother, father, and young son to examine, and as the three huddled around the original art, pointing and exclaiming at each small detail I couldn’t help but smile. This family was celebrating comics, together. Instead of playing video games or watching YouTube, this small family unit was exclaiming over the genius of Calvin and Hobbes. I suppose that’s just the magic of the Ireland. I was sad when it was time for my visit to come to an end, and I couldn’t help but stare longingly at Snoopy’s doghouse one last time. There is so much more to see and I can’t wait to return. But next time I’m bringing my sleeping bag.

-Susan Kirtley

Snoopy’s doghouse in the Lucy Shelton Caswell Reading Room

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