by JULIET WATERS

As an illustrator, Alberta-born and now Brooklyn-based Jillian Tamaki has found her way to the pages of The New York Times, The New Yorker, Maclean’s, Entertainment Weekly and plenty more. But that’s only half the picture. She also applies her vibrant, flowing brushwork, her dynamic sense of proportion and knack for rich textures to personal drawings and comics.

Her debut in that medium was Skim, a one-off comic now destined for expansion, from a somewhat autobiographical script by her cousin Mariko Tamaki. That was followed by “City of Champions,” a wry look at Edmonton, and “The Tapemines,” a wordless surrealist fable executed in a flowing scroll format.

Both are included in Gilded Lilies, her new book from Montreal’s Conundrum Press, and between them eat up half the page count, leaving space nonetheless for a variety of illustrations, drawings and doodles which add up to an excellent overview of Tamaki’s talents and ideas. The Mirror reached Tamaki by e-mail in Toronto, prior to her visit for the fifth annual Expozine.

Mirror: What would you say are the themes and preoccupations of your work, particularly your personal, as opposed to commissioned commercial, work?

Jillian Tamaki: I don’t really set out consciously with fixed ideas to explore, but themes do seem to emerge once the works are viewed cumulatively. I think I am interested in memory, detail and unseen narratives. I’m fascinated by quirks and character too. I feel most comfortable examining the ordinary and familiar, hopefully to reveal something unfamiliar.

M: In interpreting the faces and bodies of people, you seem to zero in on their flaws and imperfections, but do so with a certain grace and fluidity that precludes regarding them as simply ugly.

JT: Well, maybe it’s a weakness on my part, but I find beautiful people kind of difficult to draw. Starlets are the worst. Like Britney Spears. It’s like she doesn’t have enough information in her features for me to latch onto. I think a lot of illustrators would agree with me on this point.

M: You also seem to take great care and pleasure in drawing animals, and also trees, water, rocks and so forth. You do this in a more vivid and focused manner than you apply to human-made urban environments. Are you, to cop a phrase from Kids in the Hall, an “outdoorsy” type?

JT: Ha, no, not really. I’m definitely not a hardened urbanite, though. I suspect I hold some sort of horribly Romantic notion of nature being some sort of tonic to all ills or something. I spent a lot of time in the country riding horses when I was growing up, and I appreciate the power and solitude of nature. But I also love the rhythm and character and unspoken systems of the city. Or, more likely, I’m just better at drawing the organic.

Invention over convention

M: Your approach to comics often rejects the strict distinction between one panel and the next, and also the standard, clearly defined narrative flow. These are challenging decisions in the comics medium, and you follow them through with remarkable competence and inventiveness.

JT: I guess it wasn’t a conscious decision, no. My first comics project was Skim, which was written by my cousin and was in a very straightforward comics style. After that, I wanted to explore the medium and not worry about a conventional story. I don’t know that I have any conventional stories to tell, actually. I enjoy interpreting other people’s work and creating stories through images. I’ve actually been doing comics based on e-mail spam gibberish, so there you go. More wackiness to come.

M: You’ve relocated to Brooklyn—are you finding it a good source of visual inspiration?

JT: Yes, but Edmonton was a source of inspiration to me too—“City of Champions” was the result. But Brooklyn is just nonstop activity and stories due to the sheer concentration of people. New Yorkers are a colourful bunch. They’re what make the city amazing—and sometimes shitty.

M: What’s the status of the expanded Skim?

JT: I’m preparing the first draft right now. The project is teaching me a lot. It’s helpful to be visiting Toronto in the transition from fall to winter, because Skim is set in that exact time and place. I’m trying to make the main character’s surroundings become a distinct character unto itself.

At Expozine, 5035 St-Dominique on Saturday, Nov. 25, 11 a.m.–6 p.m., free (fifth-anniversary party, same location, 9 p.m., free)