Speaker: Hikmat Darmawan (editor, comic observer)
Moderator: Farah Wardani (curator, art critic)
Along with: Bambang “Toko” Wicaksono (artist, founder of Apotik Komik, Yogyakarta), Uwi Mathovani (freelancer), Ade Darmawan (artist, director of ruangrupa), Dimas Jayasrana (artist)

ruangrupa, Jakarta, 13 April 2004

Hikmat Darmawan: In places where the tradition of comics is strong—such as in the United States, western Europe, and Japan—comics always become an inseparable part of the culture. Although it is no longer the case today, Indonesia has also seen such phase. Observe, for example, the American comic tradition: whether it enjoys a respectable position or sinks to the level of lowly art considered as corrupt, the comic is always present in the cultural dynamics of the American society.

In the beginning, the “Yellow Kid” comic by Outcault played a part in the creation of the mass media revolution. Two media moguls at the time, Rudolph Hearst and Theodore Pulitzer, competed to stun the public with colored comic pages, based on the four primary colors. Hearst was the first one to give a space for the “Yellow Kid” comic, which was astonishing in terms of the sharp social commentaries it delivered. From then on, the newspaper industry entered a new era—the era of color printing—with huge consequences to the aspects of visual design and news presentation. “Yellow Kid” was even considered responsible for the birth of the term “Yellow Journalism.”

In its evolution, the American comic tradition has been faithfully accompanying the nation’s social and cultural dynamics. With the arrival of the jazz age, for example, the American public was introduced to the works of Windsor McKay (the Little Nemo series) and Georges Harriman (Krazy Kat), which were full of visual improvisations. Meanwhile, World War II, which gave birth to “the greatest generation” and “the lost generation,” also delivered Superman and EC comics, the precursor to Mad magazine that profusely explored and exploited violence.

Keeping pace with the atomic age heralded by the atomic bomb and its hippies antithesis, science fiction, superhero, and underground comics appeared. When Superman was “killed” in 1993, the event became a national issue. Then in this all-virtual, all-visual millennium age, the universe of the comics has been unceasingly burrowed for the benefit of the gigantic Hollywood and game industries.

Let us also take a look at the comic traditions of west Europe—especially that powered by the trinity of France-Belgium-Netherlands. Ever since the industrial-cum-aesthetic revolution instigated by Hergé with his Tintin serial, the comics have been enjoying a respectable place in the European art tradition. The tradition of bandé-desinéé (the French term for comic) is considered as a part of the long history of the European art. The comic artists themselves also seem to employ this great artistic heritage seriously.

In Japan, meanwhile, Manga and anime have become an important part of the J-Pop (the Japanese popular culture), which itself has become all the rage throughout the world. These two important and interconnected branches of J-Pop were born out of the visionary blow of Osamu Tezuka, who has influenced the comic traditions in many countries with the mecha (mechanical) genre. In general, Japanese comics have sexual explicit contents. This tendency is very strong there. The translated Japanese comics in the United States during the ‘80s provoked strong protests about such contents; a general feature in Japanese comics that makes American parents cataleptic.

Seeking the idea of the medium
“The idea of the medium” is the idea about what comics are, how they should be, what they can do, etc. “The idea of the medium” for comics encompasses “all the ideas about comics upon which the creation of a comic is based.”

In studying the idea of the medium in the comic tradition, I am forced to compare the ideas of the medium that have sprouted in the United States. Such comparison is normal, as the American comic tradition has indeed much influenced the world’s comic tradition. Another reason for this is that there are many resemblances between the American and the Indonesian public—aside from the differences such as the fact that one is a post-industrial society and the other is just developing. There are, for example, similarities in terms of the dynamics in the relationship between the public and the popular culture. Indonesia and the United States both comprise “new cultures,” and are both melting pots generating their own characteristic popular cultures. Comics, in both societies, are inseparable from such dynamics. The ideas that we are going to trace are never pure ideas; instead, they are always being influenced by certain sociological conditions.

Comics as light entertainment and storytelling means
Just like Japan and Europe, Indonesia also have a cultural heritage serving as a precedent for the modern comics, as can be found in the puppet theaters and in the temple reliefs. The modern Indonesian comics, however, were practically born without giving much heed to such heritage.

The early generation of Indonesian comic artists originated from the Indonesian-Chinese ethnic group, with the comic strip Put On, published in the big newspaper Sin Po. The character of Put On, created by a young comic artist named Kho Wang Gie, duly became the first landmark for the Indonesian comics. Kho Wang Gie faithfully told the story of the fat Indonesian-Chinese character until 1960, when Sin Po was closed down. Thirty years! To this day, it is still an unchallenged record in Indonesia.

Kho Wang Gie depicted the character representing the kind, Indonesian-Chinese public, living among the minority group in the capital city. Put On is a “kind-but-eternally-unfortunate fool,” just like the character of Lebai Malang in Sumatra. Such depiction apparently managed to capture the heart of the readers, so that Put On was successful and created many epigones.

From such concept, it was clear that Kho Wang Gie thought of comic as a “medium to give light entertainment.” As such a medium, the comic is not busy with the various complicated representation techniques; instead, it chooses the cartooning technique of simplification. Since Put On up to the series of Petruk-Gareng and the comic strip in the Bola tabloid, such idea remains popular.

I am not going to state that the idea of “comic as a light entertainment” in Indonesia originated from Kho Wang Gie. At the same time, long before 1930, the idea of “comic as a light entertainment” was also establishing in other parts of the world. In Europe, the works of Hergé before "The Blue Lotus" clearly betrayed such concept. In the United States—one of the main sources where Hergé drew his comic grammar and vocabulary—such idea was also gaining grounds.

Unlike the tradition of Indonesian comics in the same period, the United States in the 1930s was actually witnessing the peak moment of the “comic as an art” idea. At least it was at this time that Georges Harriman with his Krazy Kat was at the height of his popularity and aesthetic achievement. At the same time, however, the American comic industry was strengthening its foundation. The new industry needed to draw a wide public—children became an important target market, and the comics (strips) for adults were set to a lower standard so that more people could consume the strips. This meant that the idea of “comic as a light entertainment” was also becoming popular. The series applying the gag-strip formula (short comic strips with a light humorous surprise in the last panel), such as Blondie, Barney Google, and Popeye, became well known and started a long career spanning sometimes many decades, just like Put On.

We should note here that, albeit applying similar style and aesthetic approach as in the light entertaining comics of Indonesia—with the focus on physiognomy and simplification technique—American comic artists still managed to bring their comic craftsmanship to perfection.

Hal Foster provides another possibilities of “comic as a means of storytelling.” Adventure comics such as Tarzan suggest the realist style as an important narrative means. Extravagant situations that never take place in daily lives, such as Tarzan overpowering lions or becoming embroiled in interethnic wars, will be able to involve the readers if drawn with such a style.

On the other hand, science fiction adventures, such as those begun by Buck Rogers and then dominated by Flash Gordon drawn by Alex Raymond, have an equal mastery with Foster in terms of the realist style. After Flash Gordon, Raymond created the series of Jungle Jim and Rip Kirby; all of them became popular and at one time were introduced to Indonesia.

Before we further analyze the influences of such comics in Indonesia, we must nevertheless note another revolution in the American comics. In 1939, two Jewish high school students, Jerry Siegel and Joe Schuster, found a publisher for their dream-work—a mixture of science fiction, mythology of the Greek gods, and the mythology of the Bible and Old Testament: Superman. Siegel and Schuster’s creation soon created a big wave and is now established as a unique American genre: the superhero. Such wave inevitably hit Indonesia as well.

In 1954, R.A. Kosasih created an imitation of the American superhero character and gave it a unique Indonesian feel. This was Sri Asih, an imitation of Superman and Wonder Woman dressed in kabaya—the traditional dress of Java. The comic is often considered as the beginning of the comic books in Indonesia, and R.A. Kosasih was duly christened as “the father of Indonesian comic.”

Beside Kosasih, Johnlo also created the characters of Putri Bintang (Star Princess) and Garuda Putih (or White Garuda, in an all-black outfit). Kosasih was not as masterful as Johnlo was in his craftsmanship, and clearly far below Foster and Raymond. However, he and many of his comic contemporaries understood why the realist style was important for the story. He grasped the idea that “comic is a means of storytelling.” This is for example apparent in his wayang comics—or comics deriving their theme and content from the traditional (and sometimes indigenous) mythologies. These wayang comics had been preceded by his long researches about every nook and cranny in the wayang mythology, adapted as it is from the Mahabharata mythology and its offshoots, including the Ramayana story from India.

In the idea of “comic as a means of story telling,” comics are a medium serving the story. The choice in the wayang mythology has not been caused by public pressure or urges from the educators in 1954, condemning as they were the comics as an evil foreign influence. If Kosasih merely wished to return to a local source, was he not more familiar with the stories of Kabayan—the famous fool of the Sundanese folklore? His choice to present the wayang comic is a sign that Kosasih had a storytelling ambition, an ambition to create an epic comic. The wayang comic also enables Kosasih to employ in his comic the storytelling means of the wayang. The idea of “comic as storytelling means” is especially present very strongly in the wayang comics of Ardi Soma and in the series of Sie Djin Koei by Siau Tik Kwie.

The “comic as a storytelling means” idea was also adopted in the comic tradition of the Medan stream in the 1960s, which reached its peak in the works of Taguan Harjo, as seen in Kapten Yani and Setangkai Daun Surga (A Piece of Heavenly Leaf). Harjo himself was almost equal with Foster and Raymond in his craftsmanship. He also created his own innovation: ignoring the anatomical formulae of “body = 6 x head’s size” that was common in the Western drawing technique. As he was drawing Malay bodies, he employed the formulae of “body = 5 x head’s size”. [1]

Another comic artist who deserved to be called as the crowning proponent of the idea of “comic as a storytelling means” is Teguh Santosa in his early period of comic-making (for example in Sebuah Tebusan Dosa—or A Sin Redeemed). However, he then became an exponent of a comic tradition basing itself with the idea of “comic as a means of imagination”: the tradition of silat comics. [2]

Comics as a means of imagination and a means to disclose reality
The ideas of the medium behind the various comic traditions described here never “inter-consume”: the presence of a predominant idea does not mean the absence of other notions. If, for example, I position the tradition of the silat comic under the umbrella of the idea of “comic as a means of imagination,” it does not mean that in the previous traditions the comics did not become a means of imagination. Furthermore, every idea of the medium undergoes its own development from time to time.

In the United States at the end of the sixties, two works were born which then, intentionally or not, became the credo for the idea of the “comic as a means of imagination.” The first work was a story in the comic anthology Weird Science#12. Another work that also became the “spokesman” for the credo of the “comic as a means of imagination” was a story in the comic anthology Zap #0 by Robert Crumb.

Albeit having no such credo, our silat comics obviously employ this idea. The seeds for such notion were already apparent in the tradition of wayang comic, which depicted a lot of warring scenes between the superheroes. In Sie Djin Koe, there were even more scenes of armed fightings or empty-handed combats typical of Kung Fu, which became the seed for the grammars of the silat comic from the 1960s and 1970s. Just as the adventure comic uses the realist style as its canon, the silat comic also tries to achieve realism in its images.

It can thus be said that there is a fine difference between the idea of the “comic as a means of imagination” that developed in Indonesia and in the United States. In Indonesia, the idea of the “comic as a means of imaginations” is a follow-up from the idea of “comic as a means of storytelling.” The imaginations explored along the journey of the Indonesian comic have been mostly a part of the story. That is why the biggest genre for several decades in Indonesia has been that of fantastic stories—such as the wayang and silat epics. In the idea of “comic as a means of imaginations,” it is admissible that people fly, or emit deadly lights from their hands. In a more subtle form,the idea also leads the Indonesian comic artists to depict the background landscape for their stories more freely.

In general, a silat story takes place in a universe dominated by forests and bulky trees, kampongs with plaited-bamboo huts, silent houses, and with a grim-colored nature. In many of his stories, Teguh Santosa created leaves and trees non-existant in the real world. The natural world in Teguh Santosa’s universe of silat stories tends to be surreal, depicted in a style close to the decorative tradition.

Another comic artist in Teguh’s era who was also skillfull in developing fantasy in his silat stories was Jan Mintaraga. While Teguh explored historical legends and other comic artists worked with historical backgrounds, Jan made the most of never-never land. His silat stories, whose main protagonist is named Bayu, moved in a pure world of fantasy. It is normal, therefore, that Jan’s characters mastered extravagant flairs with lots of flashes, such as the power to emit beam from their hands. In his earlier period, at the end of the sixties and the beginning of the seventies, Jan was better known with his romance comics, with the desire to present the world of young urbanites. There was a desire to present truth, albeit hyperbolically.

There are, indeed, no strong ideas about the “comic as a means to disclose reality” within the Indonesian comic tradition, as opposed to the situation in the United States. In the US, such ideas germinated sporadically in the anti-war comics of EC Comics and were furthered by the underground comics—especially those by Robert Crumb and Jack Jackson. This storytelling model opened a path pioneered by Harvey Pekar: an autobiographical comic with a hyper-realism approach. Pekar gave shape to his idea about comics in his series American Splendor.

Pekar presented his idea of the medium in one of his early comics, drawn by Crumb: “You c’n do as much with comics as the novel or movies or plays or anything. Comics are words an’ pictures; you c’n do anything with words an’ pictures!” [3]. Pekar opened many doors with his comics. He opened, among others, the narrative possibility that would later grow into a distinct genre: autobiographical comics, which gained ground in the nineties. Another branch of possibility that Pekar opened has been the journalistic comic, especially that developed by Joe Sacco. So far, it is in Sacco and Pekar that the capacity of comics to disclose reality reaches its zenith.

More than any other journalists in general, Sacco is always aware about his dillematic position as a journalist who is not free from prejudices and limited point of view. He makes a note about this dillemma. Then, he reports this in the form of comics with extraordinary photographic accuracy and vast opportunities for drama (more than in photographies).

As per my notes on Indonesian comics so far, there have been no comic artists with as strong obsession to disclose reality as Crumb, Jackson, Pekar, or Sacco. In the early 1970s, the Indonesian reality in comics must be wrapped up by another thing such as fantasy, symbolization, or romance. In Indonesia, the genre of romance comics then become the one closest to day-to-day reality, merely because of its having the background period of “now” and the background setting of “metropolitan Jakarta.” The protagonists of romance comics at the time, Jan Mintaraga and Zaldy, tended more to be the beneficiaries of romance comics popular in the United States in the fifties until early sixties. They were more inclined to create hyperbolic characters or dramas. Those who sought to disclose reality through historical stories, such as Ganes TH, tended to choose legends or heroic stories that have never been thorough in creating characters.

The absence or scarcity of the Indonesian comoic artists supporting the idea of “comic as a means to disclose reality” continues up to this day. Even if there are some local artists who are trying to depict reality—usually through parody—that is more because of another idea: an idea that is now prominent among the latest generation of Indonesian comics.

Comics as a means of free-expressions and as a matter of technique and sensual effects
In the 1980s, the Indonesian comics started to face a serious threat. On the one hand, the old pattern of comic production (the investors pay the comic artists in a home-industry method, and the comics are distributed through small book-rentals) is no longer sufficient. On the other, imported comics (the publication of translated comics) are gaining grounds.

It was at this time that Tintin and his fellows arrived in Indonesia. A pirated version of the Eppo magazine was also published, creating an even stronger market for the European comics (the magazine is an anthology of European comics). The Hai magazine also printed European comics. Meanwhile, American comics (especially from DC Comics) are becoming institutionalized through the Cypress publishing house, and buoyed by the screening of American animation series. At the end of the eighties, Candy-Candy, Sailor Moon, and City Hunter also arrived from Japan, at the same time with the preponderance of anime series in video rentals.

There is another thing we should note: the Indonesian comic artists mentioned before had no chance to pass on their torch. The master artists were getting older, while the young comic artists were yet to be seen. There are many reasons for this (the appreciation for comic artist never increases and is instead decreasing, for example?). One thing is obvious—what can we do—the comic artists and the Indonesian comics are disappearing. And how are ideas to grow if the proponents are fading away?

In the nineties, the Japanese comics held sway in Indonesia. The American comics slipped directly into the scene as un-translated imported comics, creating thus a distinct sub-culture in Jakarta, Bandung, Yogyakarta, and Surabaya. The Indonesian comics, meanwhile, officially fell asunder. The comic itself, as a medium, became a part of the Indonesian society; at the same time, however, the local comics could not get involved there. In the mean time, as the comic remains a part of the Indonesian public, there lives a desire among some communities to create comics. An idea of the medium apt for such situation therefore becomes dominant—the idea that “comic is a means for the free expression.” I use the word “free” here with uneasy hopes, as “free” here tends to mean that “every one can do it, without rules, and it becomes a cheap-‘n-cool means for expression.”

In a pamphlet Crumb attached in his Despair comic (1969), it was written: “Drawing Cartoons is Fun!” Although doubtful whether the Indonesian comic artists of the nineties and today have read the pamphlet, I nevertheless think that Crumb’s attitude is truly in keeping with their methods. The majority of these young comic artists do not come from a certain school or artistic attitude; instead, they depart merely from their love for comics.

Observe, for example, the works in the Karpet Biru (Blue Carpet) anthology, or the special editions of the Animonster magazine. There are often interesting works arising from these comic artists. Some (or a few) show good visual intuition without the baggage of any art theories. At least, “artistic theories” such as the matters of perspective and shadowing are applied intuitively, or by mimicking their favorite comic artists. But, and this is interesting to note, a lot of the Indonesian comic artists set off without any technical provision whatsoever. It is as if they create comic simply because they happen to own some paper, a snowman marker, or the ability to tinker with graphic computer programs. Furthermore, they have no other languages aside from the visual.

On the one hand, there is indeed an artistic democratization of sorts. I need to state, however, that: as a medium that has never become a part of the elites in Indonesia, the agenda of “democratization of the (comic) art” is actually not crucial. There has never been a tough filtering process that makes the comic a “game” of just a few people—or the elites—in the world of Indonesian comics. I fear that such idea results instead in the following: because every one is able to create comic, the standard for quality is thus threatened to peter out. “Creating comic” becomes an activity of self-indulgence, and is no longer something that requires discipline and a long process, which will naturally be endured by just a few people. The most obvious result of such situation is the abundance of comics, but only a few are truly prominent and survive.

Another path derived from the idea of “comic as a means of free expression” takes a rather paradoxical course. Some of our young comic artists who create comics using this idea, and with a background in art, precisely make works that tend to be avant-garde. We know, the avant-garde tendency implies a certain degree of elitism. The avant-garde works can only be consumed by only a few people—usually those with a certain intellectual “provision.” The idea that in the beginning is meant to free the artists, precisely gives birth to works imprisoning them in the small island of “contemporary art community.”

The phenomenon that best represents such paradox is the Daging Tumbuh anthology, edited by Eko Nugroho [4]. Eko clearly applies the idea that there are no set standards for the comics that can be published in his anthology; it is only a matter of taking turns. Another interesting thing about this anthology is its distribution method. As a photocopied journal, Eko merely prints the covers; the contents are free for everyone to copy. Those who buy the original copies from Eko, however, will invariably receive bonuses such as stickers, bookmarks, or mini-comics. The anthology survives to this day and is even considered by many as one of the “champion” of Indonesian underground comics.

Almost all the works printed in the Daging Tumbuh anthology have similar tendencies. I have no issue with the agenda of “(comic) art’s democratization.” Hope not, however, that the Indonesian comics will be revitalized using such a way. What is more likely to happen, should we only bring to light such works, is that an increasing number of people will be more reluctant to be engaged with the Indonesian comics (and other comics in general). [5]

In general, comics created with the idea of “comic as a means of free expression” have nonetheless the desire to disclose the reality as seen by the artists. This is a little bit different with another idea that grows simultaneously and is advocated by many of Indonesian young comic artist—that is, the idea of “comic as a matter of technique and sensual effects.”

Such comics flower in the indie path, as works traveling from one exhibition to the next, and from one reader to another. The difference lies in the fact that the idea of “comic as a matter of technique and sensual effects” is created by comic artists with abundant references about comics from abroad, and usually also with a large amount of talents and funds. These comic artists work with a reductionism of sorts: comic is a matter of the most sophisticated technique. As a general rule, such comic artists do not worry about the issues of theme, content, or storytelling. Often, the comic artist have in mind such grand themes as love, identity, or humanity, but they plunge directly into technical issues without exploring first their theme and content. There is also the fact that a generation of comic artists has been born who know nothing other than comics. This generation appears to have no other choice aside from growing self-referentially). This happens both in the United States and Indonesia.

The most interesting thing happens, however, when the mainstream comic artists who know nothing other than comics develop their ideas about comics. They create while being completely ignorant about the various achievements in other fields 6. This is a disease that easily spreads among the comic artists with specialization in drawing. Or, to be more precise, among the comic artists who put more emphasis in pictures rather than in content or theme.

Dimas Jayasrana: We’ve heard a long portion of the history. We must admit that such global play, directly or not, affects the Indonesian comics of today. Perhaps now we can hear from Mas Bambang as our colleague from Apotik Komik…

Bambang “Toko” Wicaksono: In the beginning I indeed made comics more from the visual aspect, as I was an art student anyway. I had no baggage of representing the culture of Indonesian comics, and at the university I also didn’t care whether the comic I made would be a superhero comics or otherwise. Everything simply flowed…

Farah Wardani: How about the market condition of the local comics?

Uwi Mathovani: It can generally be said that the market for the local comics does not exist yet. But since 1998, Mizan, and Elex Media Computindo, have been publishing wayang purwa comics, and other kinds around the year 2000. Mizan as a distributor is quite consistent, although still limited. Such is also the case with Elex, which has a better distribution network. The number of Indonesian comic titles published proves to be quite a lot. From the last data, we know that there are almost more than 200 comics published. In Surabaya the situation is also quite good, and two titles have been reprinted—it’s a pity though that the comics look like Japanese ones, from the setting of the story and everything…

I think this is a matter of the comic artist’s and the publisher’s having no similar language. I wish a third party could be involved here to function as a bridge of sorts; but this problem is still much too complicated…

Ade Darmawan: I always get bored when other discussions always talk about the distribution of the comics, and never about whether we have created comics, or how the comics can be a part of our social lives.

And is there a comic out there that is as interesting as that? Just like Dimas (Jayasrana) once mentioned, why do people like Doraemon so much? It is very Japanese, though. But what do Indonesian comics look like? I mean, have the comic artists intensely appreciated their own public?

This is very interesting especially if we look further backward. Why, for example, did Elex decide to buy Japanese comics? What made them think like that, and what made them succeed? Why can’t Indonesian comics be treated that? Should we theorize this, the public will like the comic if they can see themselves reflected in the comic.

Perhaps we should create the demand first, and then the supply. Perhaps this is just a matter of choice. Because they have no other choices, people will opt for what have been provided for them. Just like the soap operas, no matter how bad they actually are, they would be labeled as the “market’s demand.” I mean, there are strategies behind such things…

Dimas Jayasrana: I think the basic problem lies in the exploration of the idea itself. I have a friend who is a comic-freak but has no Indonesian comics in his collection. Probably it’s one of the problems, that the comics are not considered as something scientific by the comic artists themselves. There are no apparent efforts to explore the theme sociologically. Say they only have pen and paper, for example… what can be expected of them? I think there’s also a chain-effect and linked ultimately with the mentality of the creator.

Hikmat Darmawan: I agree that the matter of mentality is an important issue in the problematic of our comic artists today. Precisely at the time when we have abundant references and tools, we have no national comics. Why is this? There’s a problem with the education, too. The problem of the young comic artists is that they read too much comics and nothing else. Therefore, they become too preoccupied with themselves. Comics become, for them, merely a matter of technicalities. But we can’t be too comfortable with such excuses for long.

If we merely talk about the problem, well it’s like that already anyway. Don’t we have any hopes? The fact is, we don’t, or at least the local comics are being marginalized in our own society. It is true what Ade (Darmawan) has said, we must think strategically. The elements of the industry must be complete, and I think we can’t wait for some divine intervention to make them complete. Everyone has an answer for that, and there’s no single correct answer, except that we must start working.

Hikmat Darmawan adalah seorang pengamat komik dan film, tinggal dan bekerja di Jakarta sebagai penulis, editor dan redaktur www.rumahfilm.org. Ia akan menjadi Editor Tamu untuk edisi "Komik dan Kota" pada akhir 2008 ini.

Editor’s note The first part of Hikmat Darmawan’s speech is a combination of his original paper, “Comic Ideas from Time to Time: Comparing the Tradition of American and Indonesian comics” and the transcript of the ensuing discussion. At the beginning of the discussion, the writer read out his paper.

Footnotes
[1] Mas Edi Sutriyono, an art observer and a lover of comic, mentioned this to me during a conversation.
[2] I also included educational comics—which obviously have the idea of "comic as a means to convey message"—in the category of the idea of "comic as a storytelling means". This kind of comics also bloomed during the nineties until today, in the form of comics created as a projects of various NGOs.
[3] Harvey Pekar, The Life and Times of Harvey Pekar, Ballantine Books, 2003.
[4] A young comic artist from Yogyakarta. This town is rife with such comics. The forerunners of such "genre" that deserve mentioning are Athonk with the Black & White, and Apotik Komik, who a few years ago grabbed public attention with their mural movements in the street walls of Yogyakarta (and followed by visual artists colleagues in Jakarta).
[5] And I haven't spoken of how some "weird works" are good, and some are bad. The major avant-garde works in the West invariably resulted from dialogues and responses in the art history explored by the artist. The "avant-garde" works in the contemporary Indonesian comics are often no more than "a wish to be peculiar", or simply copycats. It so often happens that the approach of the "avant-garde" (or "the postmodern", or "the conceptual art", or "the experimental art") proves to be a mere excuse to get around the weakness in the craftmanship or storytelling.
[6] I often, half jokingly, tell my colleagues in the Indonesian comic community of today that the disease plaguing a lot og out contemporary comis artists is the disease of reading too much comics!