A Hub for Strange Connections: Reflecting on Brain Frame

on brain frame

Summer of 2011: A friend requested I set up a comics reading during his stay in town. And so, just after finishing at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, I organized the first Brain Frame. My familiarity with the format was slim, and most of what I'd seen disappointed me. Unless an artist is particularly charismatic, I feel live readings generally detract from the rich personal experience of reading a book or comic to oneself. Instead, I decided, “I'll ask my most gregarious friends to read their comics in the weirdest ways possible. At least then we will have fun.” One performer lectured on the theological underpinnings of Jim Carrey's The Mask(1994) as it related to his comic about David Bowie; another squealed over a distortion-heavy cassette track; I read four short comics using props like a cup-string telephone and a bag of ketchup in my underwear. It was more successful than I ever dreamed. The power went out for an hour in the middle of the show but people stuck around, demanding more when it was over. That night was a sweaty affair in a busted apartment gallery. Now, three years later, I'm closing the book with a grand spectacle at the unbelievably stunning Thalia Hall.

The Brain Frame medium—what I like to call “performative comix”—is new and still evolving. At every event, six unique individuals (or groups) interpret their own comics-based work. Often, comic panels are projected as a digital slideshow, accompanied by whatever else the performer(s) deems appropriate: costumes, sound effects, music, props, animation, etc. Brain Frame has seen shadow puppetry, circuit bending, stand-up comedy, live tattooing, and rigorous exercise routines. I could go on. Brain Frame could go on, too, except I don’t think that’s a good idea.