| AT: Yes, in 2003. It was to promote a Japanese translation of my work, and also to get the ball rolling with this translation project with [Yoshihiro] Tatsumi.
RS: He’s been a big influence in your career. When did you first discover him?
AT: There was an unauthorized release of his work that came out here in the late ‘80s and that’s when I first found it. Probably when I was first starting high school at 15 or something like that.
RS: What was it about his art that you took to?
AT: Well, at that period in my life, the timing was really fortuitous because I’d grown up reading comic books all my life. When I was around 13, 14, I started feeling like I was outgrowing comics. I’d go to the comic shop every week and buy the same stupid superhero thing, and not even reading them, just sort of filing them away. Fortunately, it happened to be a really exciting time for underground comics. So I was able to discover that whole world, primarily “Love & Rockets” by the Hernandez brothers. So that was a real eye-opener for me—to see that you could take the visual language of comic books but tell very adult and personal stories. So when I found Tatsumi’s work not long after that, it was sort of a similar revelation. I’d been aware of Japanese comics my whole life, and just because of my background, people including family members always assumed I’d have an interest in manga. But I never really took to it. The stuff that got translated into English was a lot of ninja, samurai stuff. A lot of robots. To me it was, yeah, I mean it probably was a little more sophisticated but it was still similar to the American mainstream work that I was losing interest in. So to find this work by Tatsumi was sort of analogous to discovering “Love & Rockets.” It wasn’t the Japanese-style manga that wasn’t interesting me, it was the content. So it was a real inspiration to me.
RS: But right now there’s an explosion of manga in the U.S. So many things are being translated.
AT: Yeah, but it’s still, for the most part, not to my taste. That’s the funny thing. There’s certainly a wider range, but the range includes everything except for what I’m interested in … but to find something like the work Tatsumi does is still pretty rare.
RS: Or maybe it’s just stuff that hasn’t been translated into English?
AT: Yeah, well that’s the thing. People like me who can’t read Japanese are judging a whole art form from a tiny keyhole. It’s like if the three most popular American movies made it over to Japan, then they’d say American cinema sucks.
RS: So when you were in Japan, did you realize you and Tatsumi had similar personalities?
AT: Yeah it was kind of like an “It’s a Small World” experience because here’s the guy who’s so much older than me and we’ve had such different lives. We’d never before set foot on each other’s soil, and yet within minutes of us meeting, with an interpreter, we were speaking very fluidly, acting friendly and finding a lot of common ground. The thing that blew my mind was that he seemed just as enthusiastic and curious about me and I sort of expected this would be my audience with the great man and sort of interview him, but it was much more of a conversation.
RS: So I assume he was well aware of your work?
AT: Well not wellaware because I don’t know if he reads English and my work had only been translated into Japanese right at that time. But he had read the Japanese translation.
RS: In "Optic Nerve" #9, the story opens up with couple leaving a bad Asian American film. The guy starts venting about how Asian Americans artists always feel the need to infuse some sort of cultural lesson in their work. So what sort of advice would you have for aspiring Asian American artists?
AT: Well, I don’t know if I have any advice.
RS: How about criticism?
AT: Well, that’s not me for one thing, so you shouldn’t assume that anything that comes out of that character’s mouth is my own view. In many regards, that character is much more vehement than I am, and so I guess I don’t have any criticism or any admonition or anything like that for people who are trying to do art. The only position I can take on that is just what I feel I want to do personally or what I enjoy consuming. And in general I don’t think I’ve ever been interested in art that’s political with a capital “P.” That relates to what I do with my work as well as what I like to read or see in movies or listen to music. I certainly have no criticism for people with political causes or issues they would like to vent or social changes they would like to see happen. But just on a personal level, I’d prefer to see that divorced from art, which is a pretty unpopular stance to take. But it’s not so much a stance as it is personal taste.
RS: Reading your works, I get this idea that it’s a documentation of your life.
AT: I’d be reticent to make that description. I think I’m courting that misinterpretation with this story because I’ve sort of thrown in a few fake clues that would make people think it was completely an autobiographical story—setting it in Berkeley, making the character sort of look like me—there’s a few things like that that I threw in there for some perverse reason but I would say this is actually the most strictly fictional writing that I’ve done in terms of trying to create characters and invent plot lines.
RS: So what’s your next project?
AT: Issue 9 of "Optic Nerve" is the first chapter of a three-part story. And I’m now working on the third chapter. That’s the main thing that’s taking my time and I’m looking forward to getting that done, and next year publishing it as one big book. The second Tatsumi book debuts next week. It’s called “Abandon the Old in Tokyo.” And that’s about it for now. I sometimes do illustration work on the side but I’ve been trying to turn that work down and get this book done. There’s a CD for an event called “Luna” that I did some artwork for. I do stuff for the New Yorker but that’s about it. |