Random Manga Roulette -- Blue Period

AYO!! You know what time it is...

Time for another Random Manga Roulette! This time it's Blue Period, by Tsubasa Yamaguchi.

"What's so great about Picasso's paintings?" 

"If he's considered number one, then I'm sorry, but... I don't 'get' art." 

"Honestly? They look like something I could paint.

Wow. What a brilliant way to open this manga. Though Picasso, in my humble opinion, was a genius, (and funnily enough, I doubt the protagonist, Yatoru, was talking about anything in Picasso's blue period) I think it's a really common sentiment to take a look at some of his more abstract paintings, perhaps from his cubist period, and go, "Man, that sucks. I could make that." 

However, as Yatoru will soon learn, art is more than how it looks. 

Blue Period is a manga about a bored overachiever, Yatoru Yaguchi, learning that despite his rigid focus on studying and previous assumption that art was pointless, art is actually a great passion for him. It can be summarized that simply, but the manga is already -- within one volume -- so much more. In the first few chapters, we get an examination of how he only kept high grades (despite being somewhat of a delinquent) because it was the one way he could find validation from others, and in the discovery of making art for himself, he finds validation from within. I got goosebumps writing that. If there's one way to pull me in to a conventional drama, it's to make it about art. One of my favorite anime is Keep Your Hands Off Eizoken!, a slice-of-life about three girls who want to make anime. Shirobako is a similar, way more realistic anime about the same thing, and tops my list. As does Bakuman, an AMAZING manga about two boys who learn to make manga and get published for Shonen Jump, all in attempt to accomplish their dreams. As far as films go, I haven't seen much, but even a darker flick like Whiplash is great in how it shows the all-consuming nature of making music (and abuse).

In the first chapter, Yatoru goes from kind of a dickhead who deadnames his genderqueer friend, puts on airs as a street kid, and disregards art entirely, into someone who realizes this thing he thought was pointless for so long is actually where he finds his inner comfort. Someone who realizes what he thinks and says can't be taken lightly. Having instant character development is another way to get praise from me.

From there, the narrative reflects a commonality in slice-of-life manga in having our characters learn different art techniques -- not to say that manga with conventional settings always display art techniques, but manga that dabble in a specific topic often take a lot of pages to demonstrate niche and specific information about that topic, using simple diagrams and heavy exposition (some examples would be Yuru Camp with camping, Silver Spoon with farming, Bakuman with manga, and of course, Blue Period with art). Much like the last title I read for Random Manga Roulette, 7th Garden, Blue Period is a VERY wordy manga, but not without being justified.

Something one of the characters says early on in the story really struck a chord with me, as an artist myself. I'll put it below: 

 

 

So often when I share my writing, or talk about how much I've done, I'm met with that term. "Talent." "You're so talented," they say, because they can't think of anything more substantial. And I'm guilty of this too. My friend, Toni, is an amazing artist (whose work you can find right here --> Fancytonic Artstation), and so often I've defaulted to "you're talented," when complimenting her work, and it's something she's heard no shortage of from other mouths. But if we stand back and examine that term, it doesn't do her artwork, nor my writing, justice. At all. I'm not so egotistical as to assume my writing is amazing, but I do think it's good, and it's good because I've put previous time and energy into honing the craft -- as has Toni with digital art, paint, and pen/pencil. To write it off as "talent" is to assume you, or someone else, can't do the same with effort and dedication. Which just isn't true. Skills are fostered. We may be inclined toward one or the other for a multitude of reasons, but if I wanted to I could pick up, say, calligraphy, and become quite adept at it. As you could writing. The only reason you don't is because you don't want to. 

In the context of Blue Period, this student's comment in rebuttal to Yatoru's compliment serves as more character development for him, stressing the nature of art itself, and what it may mean for him. 

If we can talk about the previous two posts in this series so far, about Queen Emeraldas and 7th Garden respectively, I had a few criticisms of those titles. I have no criticisms for Blue Period. Not yet, anyway. There's room for mistakes, and plenty of room to grow -- as immaculate groundwork has been laid. Maybe the wordiness and jumping around in time a little bit in the last chapter means it kinda sorta maybe has an unflattering pace...? Though honestly I think that's just a nitpick. It took me longest to read this one of the three so far, but I liked it the most. By a wide, wide margin. 

It goes without saying that while I'm debating on continuing the other titles, I will DEFINITELY be picking up the second volume for Blue Period. The art is truly wondrous, it's got a conventionally-slant style and often depicts other forms of art, like paintings and drawings, AMAZING detail... like, just look at this thank-you list of people whom Yamaguchi had work on her manga: 

As a final note, this manga dealing with art of course brings up color theory. It even shows us a color wheel... in black and white. I just thought that was funny, being manga and all. 

That's all I have to say about this awesome first volume. Sayonara, everyone, catch you on the upswing. Of my paintbrush. 

  - Austin