Music, Mayhem and the Art of “POP” with Curt Pires [Interview]

With “POP” #4 in stores today, Curt Pires and Jason Coplands twisted and surreal little mini-series has come to a close. It’s a book we’ve loved so far, and while we’ve talked with Pires before about the series it felt pertinent to hold a bit of an exit interview as this is Curt’s first big series finale. Read on as we chat with Pires about every “POP” — from pop culture to Jodorowsky to memes to art criticism and beyond.

As a note, you should probably read “POP” #4 before reading this interview as we do discuss some slight spoilers.

Curt, at what point did you decide you hate pop culture?

Curt Pires: Love and hate seem like two very specific binaries that have an increasingly diminishing place in my life. I tend to feel more complex feelings towards things, and people in my life. But in regards to pop culture: I can’t put a date on it, but I can tell you what it feels like. It’s like a lover you used to love with every fiber of you, that truly convinced you “love” in the storybook sense that American media narratives wants to convince you is commonplace, existed. But then at some point I realized the love was poisonous and twisted. You try to sever the ties, escape the relationship, but every so often in a moment of weakness you come crawling back to pop culture’s door, hungry, alone, wanting. You fuck pop culture, and then remember all the reasons you and pop culture aren’t right for one and other, so you leave. But when you leave deep down in your bones you know that you’ll be back, on another cold, lonely night, when the dread creeps in and you need something to remind you that you’re alive.

I should make it known: I was being a little facetious with the use of the word hate, but you do kinda take a blow torch to certain aspects or ideas prevalent to pop culture, if not pop culture itself. It’s a lot more clear as the series progresses and we see more of this world, but did you know everything you wanted to put on trial beforehand or did it sort of evolve out of working on the series?

CP: Haha, yeah. It’s a little bit of both to be totally honest. The critique of consumerism and other institutions is sort of present throughout the entire work, and in some cases it’s very specific moments that are planned out and on purpose, and in other moments it sort of just found it’s way in. I think a lot of it is, a lot of the things we’re critiquing, we’re coming at, I’m critical of those things naturally. I walk around, and there’s no discussion in my head whether or not it’s fucked up, I’m past that point, I know it’s fucked up, so that acceptance just bleeds its way in. As the issues release it’s funny to see people have very visceral reactions and become almost defensive of some of things we critique; it’s making it all the more clear that there’s a conditioning present in regards to these issues. It’s a work that in many ways, is challenging people, I think, making them a little uncomfortable, which is cool.

POP #2

So lets get into the nitty gritty of the book. Two issues in, I’d say your overall mission statement of the book was pretty clear — but the second issue is so wild compared to the first, almost like the first was done to ease readers in and the second is where you threw caution to the wind. Being a somewhat established creator now, would you say that’s a fair analysis? What led to ramping up the more ethereal and surreal aspects of the story at such a quickened pace?

CP: Yeah, I’d say that’s definitely a fair analysis. First issues are an interesting game. As much as you want to do in a first issue, there’s always a basic responsibility to sort of set up the chess board, get the pieces in place, and set the stage for what’s going to happen next, y’know? With the first issue of “POP” I think we did this, but did it in a way that was still fun, exciting, and showed that this isn’t you’re typical comic. With issue two, I was really free to cut loose, and get to the core of what I want to do with this book, what I want to do with comic, what makes me feel alive, excited, so that sense of surrealism and that ethereal tonality definitely come into play.

That does bring up an interesting point, though, I think — the question of why a mini vs. an ongoing is always a present one in discussions of comics, but looking at this second issue… heck, looking at the third issue, why go mini on this one? It feels like you had a lot to say with the book, and the story certainly seems like it could’ve handled a longer run.

CP: “We could drag it out, but that’s for other bands to do”

That’s a very sly, non-committal answer there!

Let me rephrase then: issue 2, in addition to ramping up the pace, starts tossing out a lot of ideas and sequences and thoughts — all of which seem like seeds as much as plot points. But what do you find more conducive about the heightened pace and the condensed space? Why structure the song over a jam session and jazz solo?

CP: It’s just the way I like my comics. You don’t need 12 issues to cover lots of ground, communicate some big ideas, to ride the waves of idea space. I’ve always as a reader enjoyed comics that were bold inventive, took the less obvious path, and guided me towards new ideas and concepts, so naturally this sort of construction is appealing to me. I think if the book we’re longer in scope, you start to run the risk of meandering, drifting a little too much, and falling into that way too decompressed space. So, I guess the answer keeps coming back to, it just felt right to me.

Can you talk a little bit about what goes into planning some of the more ethereal sequences in the book? This issue features a bit of a trip; how do you discuss and coordinate and organize such a sequence with Jason, with Pete? Obviously it’s supposed to be disorienting for the reader, but how close is the collaboration like to keep the team in the loop — or is that a non-issue?

CP: Yeah, the surreal elements that you’re referencing definitely required a little more planning and reference than some of the more, lets say, “everyday” sequences. First it starts with me being a little denser than normal in the script, adding lots of detail, painting the picture a little more fully. Aside from that, It’s really about reference. Jason’s pretty straight edge so I knew I’d have to give him some sort of reference for what a DMT trip was like, so I sent over this:

(Enter the point was sort of our point of reference for the DMTtrip stuff in general, Gaspar is good with realistic depiction of drug usage).

In terms of notes for Pete, I really didn’t worry too much, I know just from his own work that Pete can nail surrealism, and in fact I’m not even sure if he’s ever done DMT. I should ask him at some point.

This may be touchy, but do you ever fear at all that you’re making the material too unaccessible with scenes like this? I imagine the short answer is “no,” but I know you’ve looked at the reactions of the series so far; do people ‘not getting it’ influence you in any way, or perhaps push you? I’ve not read the finale, I don’t know how you’re planning to tie it all off, but I would imagine you’ll leave a fair deal open for interpretation.

CP: I don’t really worry about that, to be honest. When I’m writing/creating I’m basically just thinking about what I want to make, what I want to see the team do, what I’m interested in. It’s a purely selfish space in that regard. There’s no room for critics in that space, and I don’t believe in making art by committee. So while, yeah, I do find the quality of some of these “journalists” firing shots at a book they’re not even making an effort to comprehend a little frustrating sometimes, I don’t let it affect me. Issue four actually wraps things up pretty nicely I think. I’m certainly not looking to answer every question but I think people will be pleasantly surprised with the ending.

One thing that I want to touch on is the books influences. You and the team certainly wear a lot of it on your sleeves, whether it’s guards named Morrison and Quitely appearing during a “WE3” homage or the mention of Jodorowsky during a key sequence. But in a book that rallies against the homogenization of art from mass media consumption, where do you find the line is drawn from honoring past works with importance towards a new creation of your own?

CP: That’s a really great question.

There’s a couple different layers to my answer, so bear with me for a second. The Morrison/Quietly guards appearing in that sequence at the beginning of issue two is sort of a citation of sorts. We’re obviously sort of homaging a narrative technique utilized in “WE3” on those pages, and I wanted to make sure we owned it in some way. On another level, I just really hated the idea of someone who hasn’t read “WE3” before reading that sequence and thinking it was all us. I don’t know — there’s not an element of guilt to it, but it’s like, I feel a responsibility to the people we homage/sample to make sure we’re giving them their due credit. Same thing with the Jodorowsky note at the bottom of that other page. I cut up some dialogue from “The Dance Of Reality” so I wanted to make sure we gave him his due. It’s not that I necessarily feel like it’s something that’s essential for every reference or wink etc, but I really like the idea of leading people towards new art, new information, new thoughts, new perspectives. When I’m referencing things, it’s because they mean something to me, and I want to share. it’s not me going “hey, look at me! I’m cool! I’m hip”.

I mean, like, we’re living in a world where fucking Nic Pizzolatto is paraphrasing Alan Moore comic books for the closing monologue of his HBO show and not giving credit. To me, that’s sort of just fucking unspeakably shitty. As much as I love Pizzolatto’s work, it’s like, would it be so fucking hard for you to, y’know, give someone else some credit on that one?

In regards to walking the line between rallying against the homogenization of art, and walking towards a new creation, I think it’s really about balance. When I read some of my older stuff — well, “Theremin” really — it’s like, that’s such a weird thing for me to loom at because it is so hyper referential, almost to the point where it’s a story about stories, or a comic about comics, etc. I think I’ve certainly moved away from being as heavy on the referentiality, towards something a little more subtle. Or at least, I’m trying. I’m sure to some people it seems like I’m still the hyper referential anti-christ.

POP #1

One of the book’s primary messages seems to be based around the dangers related to the consumption of art, or media in general. But since this is a comic, literally entrenched in an artist’s medium, do you find it at all difficult to balance intent against message?

And, as a follow-up, what do you consider dangerous art? Should art be dangerous?

CP: I think the message of the book, at least my interpretation of it when I engage with it, is about the thoughtless consumption of art and media. It’s become alarmingly common to consume things, art/media included without thinking about what these objects/narratives we are consuming are saying, and what the act of us consuming them says.

Case in point: Call Of Duty. Basically every 13 year old in America is engaging with this media in a very visceral and intense way, it’s basically entrenched itself in the mass consciousness on a phenomenal level. What does the narrative in Call Of Duty teach us? It teaches our 13 year old males who are already basically hardwired to be misogynistic brutes that A) Violence Is Glorious, B) further intertwines the concept of masculinity to violence (again a problematic already existing narrative that is entrenched) C) embraces problematic anti-Islamic and borderline racist oversimplifications, and finally D) functions as almost training/conditioning to accept, commit, and process mass shootings/violence on a very Baudrillardian level. Again, is this inherently bad? If I can process it and think about what’s wrong with it as an adult, probably not; I can diffuse the problems, but as a 13 year old? You don’t have that ability yet. I also think it’s important for me to point out that blaming mass shootings/violent events on videogames is also a gross oversimplification.

The follow up is interesting. First off the idea of danger in regards to art is an inherently subjective one. I don’t think any piece of information or art is inherently dangerous, but once processed, depending on how the individual processes it, it can be dangerous. One example of this is, personally, I find a film like Birth of a Nation to be a dangerous narrative, dangerous in the fact that I find it circulates damaging narratives and concepts that actively work against the recognition and respect of the basic humanity of all beings. The racist, though, they will consume this, and find solace in it’s narrative, in it’s damage. It’s all in the processing.

That said, we can put objects/memes/sigils into the world with the intent of weaponizing them, utilizing them in a way that will make people have visceral reactions. I’ve never created a sigil with the intention of harming another human or the world, that goes against what I’m trying to do. Everything I do is with the goal of actively trying to add beauty to the world. A malicious person could easily do this, however. Memes: same deal. It’s not hard to imagine subliminal messaging, symbology being utilized in insidious manners to make people behave in the ways that corrupt institutions, governments would like us to, shit, it happens everyday.

In regards to “POP” itself, I did craft it to confront the reader in a way. It’s not easy listening. It’s not really a “pop” album in that regard. It’s a Yeezus, It’s an Only God Forgives. It pushes you to the edge of your seat, the edge of your comfort zone and makes you feel things, makes you question shit, because lets be honest, we need more of that in comics, we need to stop creating homogenized ready made drivel because it’s easy for people to consume and retailers to order.

“POP” is me, Jason, Pete, Ryan and Dylan turning all the way up — and look you square in the eyes and saying “you can’t fucking turn us down”.

What have you found that memetic influence to be like on the creative process, or at least how you quantify and isolate and curate your specific subjective perspective in the artistic process? The more you interact with the art that moves you, how do you find yourself trying to translate similar experiences into your work for other people?

I mean, there’s that quote, right? David Lynch says something along the lines of how he doesn’t want to talk about what his work means because the work is talking, it’s saying everything it needs to on its own. Do you find it difficult to instill that voice in the art, and to make it part of larger conversations?

CP: Memetic influence in the art? While, I’d say that with “POP” for the most part the concept of Memes comes into play with the general construction of the comic. Sort of encoded to the very DNA; shit, the very title of the comic is the concept of pop art, so I was very conscious of wanting each cell, each microbe of the comic, each page, each panel, being able to function as a separate art object. So the idea that you could throw the covers in a gallery, the pages in a gallery, the chapter end pages, it’s all art, it all functions as a whole, and it all functions on a memetic level as well. “Beautiful holograms” — get it?

Yeah, that Lynch quote is powerful. I keep coming back to it all the time. In this context, “POP” is pretty obvious about what it’s about, so, I mean, I’m not trying to hide that. But I’m also not trying to tell people how to feel about that. Is it good? Is it bad? That’s part of the conversation — which, I think, some people miss. The art itself is maybe critical of these things, but I’m an explorer, I’m not making any finite judgments. I’m inviting discussion. diving further into the lunch rabbit hole, I keep getting people asking me to “explain” how the pop stars are grown, dive into the mysteries, when it’s like… I’m sort of leaving enough people enough information to put things together, but I’m not interested in telling, or sharing that information in any way that’s separate or inorganic from the story we are telling.

I can’t stop listening to this Twin Shadow track as I answer these questions so maybe our readers should experience this too:

And with your recently announced Black Mask book, “Mayday”, I think we’re seeing similar ideas of Hollywood or this culture in general begin to permeate throughout your work. It’s even in the fourth chapter of “Theremin”, a bit. Do you find that there’s a connective tissue abundant in your work on purpose? Or rather: the David Mitchell idea of the “uber novel” where everything takes place within a specific world on purpose. Are we in the Pires-verse, if you will. Is it all connected by design, or by happenstance?

CP: It’s complicated. I feel like there’s obvious thematic connections between some of my work(s), and that’s definitely something that’s conscious. I mean it’s clear to me that “POP”, “Mayday”, “LP”, and even an unannounced thing with Joshua Smith are all me looking at the idea of fame, music, mortality. So I mean, I’m not setting out to assemble a universe, but it’s being created none the less. It’s all connected by design, but the design is something that’s forcing it’s way into the universe, not something I am blueprinting. Which, to me is the way it should be. I feel like there’s nothing less sexy than I forcefully constructed universe. “world building” is something that happens, not that you can sit down and do. I let the art take the wheel, and the rest just sort of happens.

What role do you find sex plays in comics? Or at least modern comics; I’m aware of tijuana bibles and the long history of smut in comics, but I’m wondering where you see it fitting in — er, no pun intended.

CP: What role does sex play in comics? Basically whatever role we want it to. I’m all for the embrace of sexuality in comics. There seems to be this dichotomy in media where we accept and are okay with the most horrific forms of violence, but the minute we are confronted with a scene of sexuality that is in any way explicit, or true, we recoil. I mean, this is a huge issue in my opinion in comics. Comics readers and retailers get behind and support books with ridiculous levels of violence, and for that matter, juvenile and sometimes misogynistic interpretations of sexuality. Female characters with impossible proportions in order to maximize the ass shot, boob windows on costumes for basically no reason what so ever. But the moment you confront these readers, these retailers, with some real honest people fucking? Stop the press. This isn’t just comics, this is media in general. Society accepts violence, but feels ashamed when faced with it’s own sexuality.

So yeah, I’m all for sex in comics, “POP” #4 shows a bit of that, and there will be more down the line. Shit, I almost made a porn comic with Ben Sears once.

Did you really??? Why didn’t you?

CP: Ben got kinda scared, and I realized I was mostly just having a mental breakdown. It was half hardcore porn, the other half (pages split down middle) was about a family of wolves travelling through a snow covered forest.

Ah, OK.

So, one last thing I wanted to ask you about — I remember at NYCC, you were excitedly telling me about the last sequence in “POP” #4 that’s just an absolute breakdown of the book and the page and what we normally see in comics. Having now seen that sequence, I can confirm that Jason fucking killed it, but I’m wondering how stuff like that gets put together for you? We sort of talked about this earlier, but in terms of planning, in terms of pushing standard conventions or trying out certain visual tricks and ticks, what is the process and collaboration like for you and Jason here?

This’ll be out right as “POP #4” is coming out, but I imagine you don’t particularly want to spoil anything.

CP: Yeah, I mean, it really starts with me writing the script. I think I was approaching that end portion of the book, and even before I started writing it, I wanted it to be special, I didn’t want to just sort of end the series with a whimper. I like when comics end with a bang. So I got to thinking like, what was the best example of an explosive finale I could think of, and I somehow flashed to the end of “Casanova: Avaritia”, where like the entire book goes silent and they go three panels, with like a five panel fourth row. And I remembered reading that and being blown away. The last thing I’m interested in being is a Matt Fraction cover band though. Matt Fraction is the only one who can do Matt Fraction, y’know? I mean shit, there’s enough guys out there peddling there basic ass “Hawkeye” ripoffs these days.

So I start thinking about, how can I take this idea, this concept, of the sequential breakdown of time and push it beyond what they’ve done there, how do I transcend that and make it my own. I start scribbling and fooling around with layouts, and all the sudden I’ve got it. We have to sort of build up to a sixteen panel grid. I mean the sixteen grid is so intertwined with the DNA of this book at this point, I think it would be interesting to play with the idea of reconstructing and deconstructing that. So I start scripting — the script for those pages is very very tight, and very specific, because if I don’t do it that way, no one will understand what I’m going for.

Jason gets the script and brings it to life. It only works because he knocks it out of the park. And I’ll be honest, I think the moment that makes those pages magic, that makes it come together–is how Jason has Spike’s gun move across the top panel of those pages, as the facility starts to reach this explosive point. It works up until then, but man, that’s when gravity, and physics, and the fucking reality of the situation comes in.

I’m really fucking proud of those pages.

POP #3

“POP” #4 is in stores now, with the trade coming in February. Make sure this comic enters your personal library, one way or another.