Yes, from my point of view they are two ways of looking at the same thing - two different approaches to working with spiritual or shamanic spaces. Through trance states (gained through breathing, dancing, fasting, drumming) or through creation, ritual, etc one can expand the underlying assumptions and vision that hold you tied to a particular complex of habits. It's not necessary for someone to be aware that's what they're doing (or to describe it in similar words) - the act of relating to the world in this creative way makes it "shamanic" or spiritual in the way I see it. When you work with shifting the way you see the world and yourself by creating you are working with "shamanic" or "psychedelic" spaces, even if you use different words to describe these spaces. Anytime you access areas within you (or outside of you) that are normally hidden or purposefully shut out, that is a "spiritual experience" from my point of view. That also doesn't mean that the art itself needs to have any specific references to religion or spiritual practices. The presence of "spiritual" signifiers is completely irrelevant to its inherent power to invoke an altered state or at the very least a momentary shift in perspective. Often the presence of such signifiers is a short cut to let the audience know what is happening (often as a way of marketing) - in the process framing the creation within a pre-established set of definitions.
- You come from El Salvador, and now you live in the USA. How do places where you stay influence your works?
Living in El Salvador allowed me to experience at least 2 or 3 different cultures - the city culture of San Salvador, which was very influenced by the USA but still had a particular character of its own, the countryside culture which was a lot older and grounded in a very different way of looking at the world and the culture that my grandmothers showed me which was even older, and rooted in a way of perceiving people and events that is almost lost now. I perceived an archetypal weight in almost every story my grandmother would tell me about the world - a weight that was (and is) nearly impossible to translate by simply repeating her words. In these stories and descriptions, I could perceive a kind of inherent magic which tends to be banished by the standardization of the modern city. Moving to the USA allowed me to interact with the modern and postmodern culture of San Francisco directly, as well as encounter people that came from other places in the world. This opened me up to very different ideas and points of view. It also opened me up to the psychedelic counterculture which evolved in the 90s in the Bay Area. This is where I first encountered electronic dance music, ambient music, ecstatic dancing, etc.
- I am interested in the field where poetry and comics overlap. Do you think there are works that can be both seen as experimental comics and as visual poetry?
Yes. Often that's how our work has been described - as a kind of visual poetry. (A friend said of our comics: "Sometimes when I read your stuff, I doubt my ability to understand English.") Many of our comics don't have a clear storyline and yet there is a relationship between the words and the images that is more poetic than illustrative. As much as possible we strive to reach the edge of what can be understood - something that is just beyond language while still using language and other symbols and signifiers as imperfect pointers.
- How important is text in your works?
Although some of our graphic pieces are completely devoid of text, it is always present in one way or another. There are some pieces where the text is gone because it was removed at the last minute - in other words, the piece was created around a piece of text. And then, when the piece started to take shape, I realized that the text itself may no longer be necessary. In those cases I still perceive the old text as a kind of absence that can be gleamed through the shapes and symbols that remain. In other cases, the text is written first and the graphics are created around the text, to clash with it and somehow complement it. Yet in other cases, the text is a final touch - an emergent meaning from a random scanned page or from a street advertisement, etc. In all these cases, the text is not meant to define the piece, or to communicate a final meaning. Instead it's meant as another element that adds to the complexity of the different elements interacting with each other.
- What do you think about abstraction and asemic writing - are these things similar?
For me, asemic writing seems to imply a kind of meaning - it promises meaning and then doesn't fulfill that promise. It's similar to what I do with music - where there may be a sample of text that is so buried in other sounds that the listener can perceive a voice saying "something" but they can't tell what the meaning is. You can hear enough to tell that "a voice is saying something" - the primary message of the message is achieved: its existence as message. But no further meaning is forthcoming. So asemic writing, while not having meaning in itself, still holds on to "a meaning of meaning" - within a graphic piece it can hold the place of text, saying this is where the explicit meaning would be found if there were any. Abstraction would go a step further in breaking down any possibility of meaning - or simply allowing you to create or place meaning where you see fit.
- How should comic frames be used?
I don't think there's any rules for how they should be used or not used. In our comics, we have some books where there are clear comic frames in a traditional style and other books where there are no frames at all - just a full page collage or an implied sequence of scenes or chambers without boxes around them.
- Can you tell us something about Radio Free Clear Light?
RFCL was initially born as a music night of improvisation; an experiment in impromptu shamanic invocation. Eventually, it grew to become an identity around which we could experiment with all kinds of creation - including visual art. When I say "we" in relation to RFCL, in my mind I include all the many people that have been a part of it over the years (since 1995)whether they only worked on one comic, one piece of music, or whether they worked with me for years. One of the main principles of RFCL has been to focus on the process of creation rather than on the final result. We design a process and then see what comes out - instead of imagining a result and then trying to figure out a way to make that result happen.
- Your music was performed by an orchestra - how do such things happen?
I met the conductor of the Symphonic Orchestra in El Salvador during a visit to El Salvador. He listened to some chamber pieces I had written while studying classical composition. He liked them and offered me the chance to write a piece for the Orchestra. I jumped at the chance and spent approximately a year working on a piece: "Canto Para Ser Perseguido" which was eventually performed by the Orchestra. It was a great honor to have my music performed by the national Orchestra - and even more, to see that the musicians enjoyed what they were playing and they were happy with it.
- Does your art influence people around you?
Since I try as much as possible to not focus on results I don't spend much time thinking about how my art will influence or not influence anyone. I simply know that I've put a lot of attention and effort into it, and if someone looks or listens (or reads) carefully, they will find it there. At that point, it's up to them to find it and convert it into something for themselves. My part of the equation is done.
www.blacknotemusic.com
