Noah Van Sciver
Noah Van Sciver didn’t start out wanting to do comics. He caved, he says, to a familial obligation to it. His father liked comics. His brothers liked comics. One of them, the elder Ethan Van Sciver, even ended up as a comic book artist, working for both DC and Marvel Comics—but don’t think of Noah as just another Baldwin. The Denver-based 24-year-old (who will be at StarFest at the DTC Marriott this weekend) has a weekly strip in the Westword, self-published four issues of his own comic Blammo!, and puts out a handful of free mini-comics as companions. Rooted in DIY ethics—and aesthetics—he takes inspiration from the cartoonish, satirical works of Robert Crumb and the like. Noah talked with The A.V. Club about being born too late, fanboys vs. regular people, and how the comic industry is dooming itself with all these extra copies of the Watchmen.
Decider: Are there professional benefits to having an older brother that draws for DC?
Noah Van Sciver: Because Ethan’s into the whole superhero stuff and that whole scene, I can sneak in there too and get some press from his side. Like Wizard magazine—which is predominantly superhero comics—they’ll cover something that I did just because of who my brother is. I’m in the issue this month, actually. They did an article on the Van Sciver brothers—it’s really weird. So, that’s the good part of it, but the bad part is that the people that read my brother’s stuff wouldn’t really be interested in my comics, because I don’t really draw comics for comic fans. I draw it for regular people to read, not the fanboy crowd, really.
D: Are you dissing superhero comic fans?
NVS: No, no. [Laughs.] Most of the people that read indie comics, they listen to the same music as me and stuff, so I consider them just regular people. It’s hard to explain, actually. There is definitely a weird section that is dedicated to the kind of stuff I do, but whenever I have events at Kilgore, it’s mostly regular people that show up. But, then, you can’t really tell who the fanboys are, can you? Nobody’s wearing Superman shirts or anything.
D: Maybe someday you’ll have a launch and people will come dressed as you.
NVS: [Laughs.] No, I’m too self-conscious. That would be pretty funny though, wouldn’t it? Someday.
D: Do you think you could eventually turn your brother’s fans into fans of yours?
NVS: Yeah, definitely. But I don’t know if they would actually be interested in what I do because they liked it, or because of whom I’m related to. It’s like if you’re really into Tom Cruise, you’d be automatically interested in his brother, too.
D: Don’t you think also that there’s a Baldwin brothers downside to that?
NVS: I’m almost certain that happens in my family. [Laughs.] I think I am that brother that people look down on—my work is definitely a lot different than Ethan’s. And I’m still trying to learn more about myself through what I do. A lot of it is autobiographical, but I’m trying to move away from that. I’ve been doing more short history stories. I did one on the Denver Spiderman. And I’m doing a graphic novel right now on Abraham Lincoln, but only from 1830 to 1842. It’s not dealing with him being a president or anything like that; it’s about his depression and his rocky relationship with Mary.
D: So you’re switching from autobiography to biography?
NVS: Yeah. I just don’t want to be another one of those artists that just does comics about himself. I’m certainly not as interesting as Harvey Pekar or Crumb. I haven’t lived long enough to be bitching about it. The thing, too, is getting people to read your comics nowadays is really hard. The attention span is so short. I think I was born in the wrong era. I should have been born in the '40s. That way, I could have been a hipster in the '60s in that whole Zap Comix crowd. I would have fit in really well there. I’m kind of out of place—just trying to figure out how to do it now in a world that’s moved beyond comics.
D: Is self-publishing your answer to that? Do you think it’s a way to preserve underground comics?
NVS: Somebody has got to pick up all the slack, all the independent comics that are being self-published and distribute them, and that’ll be what saves it. Self-publishing is basically the only way to even do a comic book in the pamphlet form, because a lot of the companies aren’t publishing them anymore. You can send it to them, but they’ll reject it right away. The money isn’t there for them. It’s all about graphic novels now. Every time I go into a bookstore, there’s, like, 85 copies of the Watchmen. And I know people are buying it, but for God’s sakes, how many of those did they print up? I mean, those should be a nickel apiece here in a month after the buzz dies down.
D: Is it tough to work against the tide of the mainstream?
NVS: You have to do it for love, you know? There’s no other reason. There’s no big payoff. You can become famous, but then you’re famous in this small, little world. It’s not about that—I’ll never be rich or famous. I’m pretty sure I’ll always have to work a crappy job, but I’m okay with that. I draw comics because I love it.
