Showing posts with label ana two. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ana two. Show all posts

Saturday, January 3, 2026

31 Days Of CCS, #3: Ana Two, Iris Gudeon


Ana Two is one of the most exciting artists to emerge from CCS this decade (and I believe this so fervently, that we will be publishing book by them soon). This little mini, Storm Drain, came from this year's Riff Raff anthology, which in turn is edited by CCS alum King Ray. This is only a 4-page, but so many of Two's interesting storytelling elements are at work here. This is a two-track narrative, with the first arc being about a nameless narrator leaving behind a journal on a napkin that yearned to be drained, washed away, and become a new person. This accompanies the distorted, psychedelic imagery of a body wasting away, becoming skeletal, and finally being reformed. The bottom third of each page is taken up by big text, acting as a sort of call-and-response with the rest of the narrative. Every gesture and statement Two makes in their comics is big. The emotions are over-the-top, bursting out--uncontainable. The desire to live, to die, to control, to be controlled, supercedes everything else, and the exaggerated art reflects. 



I find Iris Gudeon's strange little comics to be utterly baffling in a way I enjoy. The figures (usually animals) are simple and cute, the humor is often corny in a deliberately labored way, and it all amounts to what you see is what you get. There's no larger message, no intricate character work, no intense drawings. It is purely strange and cute gag work, but less in terms of having punchlines and more in terms of one artist's fancy flowing smoothly and freely on the page. All of this is true about Standing Cats, whose sensibilities are somewhere between Dr. Seuss and B.Kliban. Drawn in what looks like colored pencils, there's a vibrancy to these yellow cats going about various activities, including building chairs (with or without a sense of obligation), doing taxes, and staring at the sun. It's just a bit of nonsense, but I always look forward to this kind of nonsense from Gudeon. One thing I did notice is that their line is much more confident here than it was in their earlier minis. 


Tuesday, December 24, 2024

45 Days Of CCS, #23: Riffraff

The Gutter is a substack anthology that mostly publishes very short stories or serials. Of late, they've gotten more serious about things, going to a paid subscription model for comics in 2025 and releasing their first print anthology, Riffraff, in 2024. The anthology also had a digital component, but I'm going to focus on the print edition here. 



It's edited by two CCS alums, Cathy Mayer and King Ray, and there are several CCSers who contributed stories. Emil Wilson opens with "Recycling Husbands," which is fitting since this issue's theme is "Trash." Wilson leans into the concept from the beginning, as a wife puts her "husband on the curb with the recycling. I decided I didn't need a husband anymore." It follows the logic of this statement in an even-handed and slightly dispassionate way, as she finds the husbands are "crushed into compressed blocks." Eventually, some of her friends get recycled husbands. Wilson's art is partly scribbly and partly looks to be inspired by advertising art designed to invoke a 1950s America feel, but the power reversal here is amusing and understated. 



Sofia Lesage's "Digital Wasteland" cleverly uses the short format with a repetitive gag that lands because it's only six pages. The protagonist is beset by a buxom bot begging for her attention while she scours the internet for something else, only the digital wasteland is a real one. This is a rare example where a digital font (for the bot) is an effective storytelling tool. The ending doubles down on all of this, as the protagonist's desperation leads her to make a critical mistake. 



Ana Two once again proves their capacity for innovation with "Throw Your Past Away." Once again, it's a smart use of a limited number of pages, as Two uses the Riso format to create a ghostly, foggy background. The protagonist talks about leaving messages behind on napkins revealing the sensation of wanting to be thrown away, to be drained, to be hollowed out of their depression and turned into something new. It's a striking combination of spectral images and beautifully concrete text. 



Violet Kitchen's "Birdhouse" reveals yet another strong story for the young artist, who has been on an incredible roll. Kitchen's line is scribbly and expressive; it reminds me of a certain kind of cartoony naturalism from artists like Michel Rabagliatti. However, their understanding of composition is incredibly advanced. Here, the open-page layout of hipster friends attending a garage sale transforms into one of them feeling the sincerity of an old woman's joy in the simplicity of her understanding of beauty. Kitchen's ability to subtly evoke emotion through visual cues is extraordinary.



In the other stories, Faye Harnest's "Books" makes interesting use of shapes in discussing how she felt when the books she was forced to dispose of weren't taken by anyone. Stephanie Guralnick's story about dumping out one's heart is less a story than a tone poem. Betsy Hudson's story of an unhoused man building his own tarp castle in the alley next to some friends' apartment was touching, especially with the tender, scribbly line. Abi Inman's story of a robot and a bird feels a little familiar, but it's well-executed. Quinn Stephens' ridiculous "Rick Garbage" short is just the injection of ridiculousness that this otherwise fairly sincere and serious anthology needed. Overall, this is a very well-edited anthology that makes good use of its theme while providing enough variance to prevent things from getting tedious. 

Sunday, December 15, 2024

45 Days Of CCS, #15: Ana Two

Ana Two's Hyperfawnus got an Ignatz nomination, and it was well-earned despite it being so short (just twelve pages of story). There's a neat trick and swerve on the first two pages, where we see a deer and a girl, and we are led to believe that the girl is the narrator, as the narration says "Follow me, little fawn." Instead, it's the Old Man of the Forest who's narrating, which we learn when the girl accidentally shoots the deer with an arrow. The rest of the comic is devoted to the price she must eventually pay after she refuses to fulfill the price of a single drop of blood. It's clear by the way that Two uses color, as well as their themes, that E.M. Carroll is a big influence. However, Two uses Carroll as a launching point for their own themes, interests, stories, and visual expression, rather than directly imitate what Carroll does. This comic is a great example of a story where much is hinted at but little is revealed, other than what is directly needed to resolve the character narrative. Here, that narrative is simply a price that must be paid; all other motivations and world-building remain unspoken. Two's panel design frames the work with unusual shapes, and the concave construction of many of them leads to a feeling of things closing in on the protagonist. 

Their latest project is Darkroom, published by the Shortbox Comics Fair. (Full disclosure: there is a longer version in the works that Fieldmouse might become involved with.) The story follows a vampire named Seraphina, forever in a young body despite her many years. She's in love with a photographer named Lynn, who is obsessed with trying to capture her on film. The story flashes several decades to Seraphina and another lover named Esther who was also obsessed with trying to photograph her. The other member of the cast is a mousy detective named Ira who has found a trail of bodies following Seraphina, and they are closing in.


Ana Two's comics explore a lot of aspects of power relationships and exchange vis-a-vis kink. That's part of what's going on here, but the main thrust of the character narrative is objectification. Seraphina is clearly a monster, but she is capable of love. Feeding for her is like a shark eating its prey; it is an amoral act of survival. Two gives some hints about how Seraphina lives with herself; memory for her is not a linear process, but instead "swimming upstream a river." What she remembers is "blood, tastes, scents." This explains why she doesn't completely recall how the older photographer, Esther, used her in the same way Lynn did. All Seraphina wanted was a connection, no matter how fleeting they all tended to be, but what the photographers wanted was their own version of immortality, through their work, using Seraphina as the means to get there. Ana Two's use of color is brilliant: grayscale wash (with spot color) for modern-day scenes, sepia wash for the older scenes, and a dark red wash for the darkroom. Two's work is thoughtful, subtle, and forceful all at once. 

Sunday, December 10, 2023

45 Days Of CCS, #10: Ana Two

Ana Two's comic Playtape is a masterful example of psychological horror that evolves into CNC kink. There's an attention to detail that heightens the tension of the comic from the very beginning, dipping deep into the comic's narrative and thematic references to film. Starting with the translucent cover of a DVD that's filled in with an image beneath it, Playtape explores hidden layers and secrets that are only exposed after enormous stress. 


The story follows Uma, a film editor who receives a DVD on her doorstep without her knowledge. The bizarre video is of a masked, hooded figure who's created a dummy version of her. It's creepy and invasive, and Uma immediately sets out and accuses her assistants and ex-boyfriend, who are baffled as to what she's even talking about. She continues to receive DVDs that are increasingly creepy and sexual in nature, and it finally breaks her in an unexpected way. Even as the most recent DVD includes the hooded figure introducing rope and getting increasingly graphic, it leads Uma to take control of the situation in a surprising way. The end of the comic, which includes the identity of the stalker (which is almost completely unimportant) utterly reframes every interaction seen in the comic in terms of BDSM power relationships. In the end, the Uma transforms being the object of desire into something very different. Ana Two's cartooning excels in capturing this transformation, including a clever use of the De Luca effect when Uma walks up the stairs and into her apartment, feeling inexorably drawn to getting the next video, "like I was being led to the guillotine." This is a smart character study that constantly pushes and redefines the protagonist on nearly every page, and each new detail builds on the next.