Broken Frontier

Every two years in Belgium,  the largest Belgian comics festival takes place in the tiny city of Turnhout. Broken Frontier was there and  spoke to Olivier Schrauwen, famed creator of My boy who received the price for Best Debut. Graduated at the Academy of Art in Ghent, he has reached the ripe old age of thirty and displays a very sober outlook on life, displaying a keen eye for human behaviour, very apparent in his comics.

Broken Frontier: A nomination at one of the worlds largest comic festivals,, the price for Best Debut at the largest Belgian comic festival, Strip Turnhout, numerous praise in the international press. They are all very fine accolades from the comics world but does it also open new doors for you?

Olivier Schrauwen: I laboured a long time on My boy and the only thing that kept me busy during that period was finishing my comic. What would come after the finalisation of that project never crossed my mind. The fact that the comic is receiced in such a grand manor totally flabbergasted me and the – for my norms, anyway – out-of-proportion attention it accumulates in the media, I find that to be very funny.

BF: On every project, your drawings are different. If there is a common ground, it is a kind of longing to la ligne claire where the colouring gives rise to atmosphere and fore- and background. Who are your main influences in art and comics?

OS: I think the work of Tardi has the most resonance with me. My parents always had the first albums of Adèle Blanc-Sec lying around so that worked on my artistic sensibilities for a long time (an example can be seen to the right of this paragraph). As a child, it was the horror that attracted me most. That overdone ‘AAAAHH’ when someone falls through a window or gets shot in the face. I still remain a fan to this day of his work as opposed to the works of Tintin from Hergé or Gaston Lagaffe by Franquin. I mostly appreciate them for sentimental reasons. The stories of Tardi can turn out to be very silly sometimes but they always keep their pleasant dark view of humanity.
BF: What is your opinion on the graphical styles that are emerging in France due to the works of Manu Larcenet and Christophe Blain? Their scratchy linework stands in shrill contrast to your clear delineation.

OS: I tend to like that French shool of thought that originated from Sfarr. Sometimes though, it feels a bit too chique for me. I can intensely like an ugly, naive or even a very banal drawing.

BF: Did your parents stimulate you in following a comics course in college?

OS: It is not the sort of education that leads to financial security later on in life but I think they were okay with it. I do not believe that I would have been any good at anything else anway.

BF: Your style of humour has a tinge of the absurd to it. It reverberates on ao enlargement of the banality of human behaviour and this way, it becomes something very comical. Is there a liberal tinge to your upbringing.
OS: I’m afraid there’s no short answer for this..

BF: Your drawings seem to breath history, no matter which style you employ. Is this something you aspire to or does it just flow from your pen?
OS: My drawings all have a very false authenticity. Maybe it has something to do with me being raised in Brugge (the Venice of Flanders). That city has in itself a very rich history but at the same time, it is also incredibly – and disgustingly - fake.

BF: Is there a lot of involvement of the computer in making or finishing your comics? The fake authenticity you mentioned, I can’t seem to make up my mind whether is is done by hand or on a computer.

OS: I use my pc to colour my comics and to copy/paste certain repetitive patterns I create. Sometimes I find myself going back to handcolouring, mind-shouting ‘Ah shit, ctrl-z!’. But then, ofcourse, my drawing has already been irrevocably shot to hell.

BF: Do you rather like playing the rol of the comic artist within the confines of your own living room or are you actively looking for international fame?
OS: Most of the alternative creators have an international outlook because they know that the people they reach in their own country is a small and select audience. But most of the time, the process flows very naturally. At a comic festival, there’s always a Pole present or a Est that asks you to make something for their small press magazine (Olivier is working on his contribution for the international alternative publisher Elektro comics’ anthology Glomp).
BF: You’re also very active in the world of animation. Is this something you take on because comics alone can’t put bread on the table or is this another passion in your life?

OS: Honestly, I like all discipines that you can practise inhouse and with a minimum of tools. Comics, cartooning, animation and music. But comics is my oldest love and it also where my strenght lie.

BF: Are there any plans to bundle The Mongoloids, your unfinished project for the now defunct magazine Parcifal together with Macho Man? which new projects keep you awake at night right now?

OS: Well, Macho Man was my first long story. I started on it and I was a bit insecure but along the way, I started really having fun with it and it just kept growing and kept getting more absurd, much to the chagrin of my readers who couldn’t make heads or tails out of the story.
It was never my intention to publish these tales together in one volume and I guess it’s all too much in the past for me now to ever retrace my steps on those projects. I must admit that I haven’t completely detached myself yet from the Mongoloids, I think I still have plans for that one ...

BF: Up untill now, what has life in comics taught you?

OS: It has taught me that I have to labor on with patience. But I guess it’s the same thing I would have learned if I had become a farmer.
BF: Thank you very much for your time and good luck on your future endeavours.

###

To discover the works of Olivier Schrauwen, visit the site of publisher  Bries who has published My boy and displays his work along with other fine Belgian creators in the anthology Hic Sunt Leones #1 and #2.