Since Real Detroit Weekly did not archive my interview from May 2010 by Detroit arts writer, Robert del Valle, I had to request the text so I can post it here:
------------------------------------------------
"Geli Girl" - a portrait of artist Angel Busque
Artistic expression is inescapably linked with the character of an artist - and the elements that shaped that character are as discernible as the colors or the brushstrokes on the canvas . In the case of Angel Busque, however, there is an additional subtlety behind the lines and hues. The biographical odyssey recorded in her graphic works (remarkably candid ones, we hasten to add) is a radiant voyage with specific feelings and emotions perceived as variations from panel to panel. Likening such a sequence of visuals to music is a cliche, but just as a symphony has "movements", the pictures rendered by this particular woman have "moments" that the empathetic viewer/reader cannot help but feel.
Ms. Busque graciously answered a few questions ...
1) You use the format of the graphic novel to tackle autobiography. Is it easier to "draw" one's life than to write it?
It is much easier for me to draw then to write, because drawing is what I DO. I was always meant to draw and paint. It's much more harder for me to "write" about myself, because I tend to over think and over-analyze my words way too much. I get impatient with writing and to be honest, writing has always intimidated me. Painting and drawing has always felt natural to me ever since I learned to draw on paper and on the house walls with crayons and my dad's shoe polish when I was little. I grew up very shy and quiet. I was afraid to talk and share what I was feeling; but when it comes to drawing, I have always been able to express myself visually. I feel fearless when I draw. I actually didn't start drawing graphic novels (or comics) until 8 1/2 years ago after a friend who had a passion for comics and graphic novels introduced this format to me. He was always elbowing me and telling me that my drawing style would suit this medium perfectly. At the time, I was studying as an undergrad at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago. I went to SAIC with the intention to focus on painting and drawing. But, during my first year I left painting and drawing to study in the sound department, along with some video production on the side. By the time I graduated I began painting and drawing again. It's like I never missed a day. I took an artists books class and kept drawing comics in my artists books that received compliments by my instructor and fellow classmates. After my friend shared with me his copies of "King-Cat: Comics & Stories" by John Porcellino, who quickly became my favorite comic book artist, I became hooked. I fed myself with numerous trips to Chicago Comics and Quimby's and picked up whatever mini-comics or comics looked interesting to me. I started drawing "Morning Star: Comics & Stuff" in 2001. It was meant to be more of a zine or mini-comic, but by the 3rd issue, the stories became longer, a little more complex, and had more of a feel of a graphic novel. I was getting a feel of how I wanted to tell my personal story. "Morning Star" is drawn from both memory and my handwritten journal. I noticed that all of my years in the sound and video department editing, began to show itself in my comic book work. I can close my eyes and envision moving images; how each "clip," each scene, the sound and images would layout and make a final piece. I traded "Morning Star" with other zinesters and mini-comic book artists, also sharing with close friends, and sold copies at Chicago Comics, Comix Revolution, and Quimby's.
2) Who has influenced you the most as an artist?
I met a sound artist, named Michael Anderson. He has an experimental folk project called Drekka and runs a small independant record label called Bluesanct in Bloomington, IN. We met in 1999. At the time I was a very confused undergrad, completely unsure of how to go about with my artwork. It felt like everyone around me knew what they were doing. The other students seemed to have these solid ideas and strong opinions about their artwork and yet in the classroom and in daily critiques I couldn't help but to feel that the artwork I saw lacked any real feeling or raw emotion. I saw a lot of things that were created out of shock value or artwork that was very pessimistic or cynical. It felt almost destructive. Why would you want to create more artwork in a world that's already filled with so much chaos and despair? I could easily admire and respect techniques and the process of how an artwork was created by my fellow classmates, but here I am finally studying in one of the most prestigious art schools in the world. To do what I loved to do and was good at, along with other artists who loved doing what they do and were also good at. But there seemed to be some kind of void in the majority of artwork I saw. I am not sure if I would feel this same way, going back to school with what I know now. But at the time, everything seemed very abstract to me. Nothing spoke to me. Nothing made sense. Why was I not getting it? Was I not thinking hard enough? Were the other students really getting the artwork that was created and constantly being displayed or were they completely bullshitting throughout all the critiques? Was I not smart enough? Cerebral art? Have I completely lost my mind? Is there any real deep meaning behind these pieces of artwork? Any sense of hope?
I could go across the street from the building where my classrooms were held to The Art Institute of Chicago Museum and spend time in their different galleries. Personally, Gallery 109: Tadao Ando's “Power of The 16 Pillars” (room for Japanese screens) was my favorite place to go to in AIC to sit in silence and meditate. I would go there to calm down the anxiety I was feeling and experience the classics from masters themselves, that would both encouraged and inpired me. To make me feel again amidst all this lost and confusion.
Upon meeting Michael, I began to listen to his sound pieces. There is one song he wrote in particular called "Possibilities” where he sings: "Way back when I was a child. I could clearly see that this world that surrounds us is full of endless possibilities. And now I am not a child, but I still try and see, that this world that surrounds us is full of endless possibilities." I would later cover this song and play it for some of my sound classes." In my version—created during the time I was dealing with my insecurities with being shy and using my own voice—I also sang some of the lyrics from Velvet Underground’s “After Hours” (“If you close, the door the night could last forever. Leave the sunshine out and say hello to never…”.)
Covering “Possibilities” was a turning point for me. Michael challenged me to create artwork that was honest, that had feeling, and that can communicate hope and love. I wanted to risk being bold and daring by creating work that questions a deeper meaning in life. To create artwork that shows vulnerability, that evokes a sense of beauty and a sense of longing. Artwork that might possibly almost make you tremble and sense how fragile life is. I just want to create artwork that speaks to the soul and that tells stories. To create something that other people could relate to and that will make you feel human. Artwork that you can experience. Artwork that gives. Artwork that both encourages and inspires. One of the most rewarding things to me is when other people look at (or listen to) my pieces and tell me that I’ve inspired them to create. I couldn’t ask for anything more.
3) Detroit vs. Chicago?
Both cities are definitely unique in there own way. To be honest, I can't give a fair assessment. I spent the first 18 years of my life in metro Detroit before heading to Chicago where I went to school, worked, and lived for 10 years. Before I left Detroit, I still hadn't received my driver's license and didn't go out that much. A year and a half ago, I had moved back to Michigan where my family is because I have been dealing with the autoimmune disease, lupus, and had to have a total knee replacement. So now living back here, I finally got my driver's license (!) and had recently recovered from my surgeries. I am just beginning to explore everything that Detroit has to offer. Chicago is a place I adore and love and where the beginning of my adult life started. I built many aquaintences and strong friendships there. I was constantly surrounded by other creative souls that had this amazing energy and were able to nurture each other by bouncing ideas off one another and to collaborate and do art with. Something was always going on within even just a block away from me. I felt alive and didn't feel lonely like the way I did, when I first moved back to Detroit. In Chicago, you felt city life all around you. I am constantly missing and craving to feel that again. I had been very sad to leave Chicago and skeptical with what Detroit could show me in comparison.
So far, on the surface, I have found in Detroit a lack of motivation and a lot of bitter and jaded personalities wanting to get the hell out. Furthermore and digging deeper, I am meeting people who are so passionate about this city and who are working on some really amazing and wonderful stuff. I've been getting excited exploring and finding out more about these personalities of Detroit. It seems like Detroit has an energy of it's own that is hidden; that the rest of the world, including me, is just realizing. Also, of course, there is a rich and deep history here, with music, architecture, politics, literature, art, etc. that I am embarrassed to say that I've been completely oblivious too. I want to know this Detroit. In these last couple of months I've reconnected with friends and classmates who are doing art and teachers that had encouraged me in the past and paved the way to see that I do well in my life and in my art. I have also been meeting other motivated artists. A few weeks ago, I struck up a conversation with a girl working behind the counter of Tasi in Royal Oak. She told me of all these art galleries that I need to check out. In a memoirs writing class that I took at the local library, an older woman named, Irene Walt--whom I later found out is a huge supporter of the arts in Detroit--had been leading a full, rich life in South Africa, but now calls Detroit her home. She told me the history of Pewabic Pottery and how she helped to fundraise pewabic installations in public places like the Detroit People Mover Stations and the Detroit Receiving Hospital. She told me that I definitely need to check out the pewabic's galleries. I found out that my orthopedic surgeon's family has been holding jazz concerts in their own home. (The last event being jazz fusion guitarist Larry Coryell. The next upcoming event will be vocalist and pianist Freddy Cole.) Last year I had my first solo art show at The Woods Gallery in Huntington Woods and met the gallery's new coordinator, Lisa Grix. I've been to some of The Woods Gallery shows and am excited with what Lisa has stirring up for this year. I've also met and talked to Jesse Cory of 323East, who was eager to share with me other art shows that are coming up. I am pleasantly surprised with the enthusiasm and friendliness that I've been experiencing in my exploration of what is Detroit. There are all these hidden gems that I keep finding. Also, I am a great, great food lover and leaving a place like Chicago with all it's choices in places to eat had me almost kicking and screaming. I am delightfully finding out all the great foodie spots Detroit has to offer. (i.e. Roast, Slows Bar-B-Q. And don't even get me started on the sushi at Olso!) I am looking forward to knowing more about why I am falling in love with this city. Detroit does play a bigger part of me than Chicago than I had originally thought. After all, this is where I grew up and my family here.
4) You recently went to NYC for an arts conference. How did it go?
Yes. For a week in March, I attended The International Arts Movement Encounter 10 Conference. I received an e-mail from artist, Makoto Fujimura, the creative director of IAM, letting me know that this year, they had a sponsor to give away scholarships and a stipend so that chosen recipients could partake in the conference. The IAM staff submitted recommendations to be chosen for the scholarship. I was chosen as one of these recipients.
IAM is an arts organization that was found by Mako in 1990. IAM's vision is that "the world is not as it ought to be and that it longs for meaningful existence and involvement in our culture - to make our world a better place and to be part of a story greater than ourselves...too often our reality is a broken and fragmented story in which value and dignity are stripped from humanity." IAM believes that "art, as a universal language, can begin to address this dehumanization and that the world needs artists and visionaries to lead the way in seeing beyond the trivial to the transcendent, bringing synthesis to fragmentation and hope to despair."
IAM Encounter 10's conference theme is: "2010: 10 Questions for 10 Years." Artists and creative catalysts from all over the world gathered in the Great Hall of Cooper Union where we looked at what to envision for IAM in these next ten years; what questions are to be faced and asked and what cultural impact can be made.
I was excited, honored and privileged to be a part of this. Mako is my one of my favorite artists. In 2003, Mako was appointed (a six year Presidential appointment) to the National Council on the Arts. At the completion of his term in 2009, then Chair of National Endowment for the Arts, Dana Gioia, honored him with The Chairman's Medal for his outstanding service and contribution to the arts advocacy in United States. Mako recently had an exhibit in NYC that paid homage to Georges Rouault called "Soliloquies." The exhibit featured both Mako's and Rouault's work side by side.
5) A young artist is beginning to explore reading and drawings comics. List some of your personal favorites that you recommend for this person to read.
- Anything by John Porcellino! His "King-Cat Comics & Stories" collection really inspired me to draw comics. His lines and style of drawing is so simple but it says and evokes so much.
- Marjane Satrapi "Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood" and "Persepolis 2: The Story of Return"
- Art Spiegelman's "Maus I: A Survivor's Tale, My Father Bleeds History" and "Maus II: And Here My Troubles Began"
- Santiago Cohen's "The Fifth Name"
- Lynda Barry "One Hundred Demons"
- Brian Ralph's "Climbing Out"
- Jeffrey Brown's "Clumsy" and "Funny Misshapen Body" (I relate to "Funny Misshapen Body" so much, because Brown is also from Michigan, deals with an autoimmune disease, and while attending SAIC as a student went through the same lost and confusion I went through while studying there. It's like we lead parallel lives, went to the same coffee shops, and even have mutual friends, yet we have never met!)
- James Kochalka "The Sketchbook Diaries", "Kissers"
- Sam Henderson's "Magic Whistle" (Hilarious!)
