AsiaLIFE

Something’s going on in the world of Cambodian comics. Since the first known graphic novel was published in 1964, comics artists have struggled to overcome the challenges posed by the war period, advent of television, and copyright issues. Today signs are pointing to a reinvigoration of comics, as an emerging generation of artists begins to explore new directions. Mai Lynn Miller Nguyen takes a stroll through the history of Cambodian comics and asks what the future beholds.

In the sunny studio of Sonleuk Thmey in Battambang, the future for young Cambodian artists looks bright.

Prak Ke, 22, a young Khmer graphic artist and cartoonist is explaining his plans for the future. Though he is in no doubt as to the difficulty of the path he has chosen to tread, he seems confident enough.

“I want to be a comic artist,” Prak says. “It is hard, but I will put in the effort.”

Despite his youthful years, Prak knows a lot about arduous journeys. As a child, he used to beg on the streets of Bangkok before the police deported him back to Cambodia. He ended up in an orphanage that had connections with Phare Ponleu Selpak, the Battambang-based NGO that runs three artist schools alongside more formal education. Aged 16, Prak enrolled in Phare’s visual arts school.

At first Prak discovered how much he enjoyed telling stories through drawing. Then he developed his illustrative skills through participation in comic art workshops with visiting artists organised by Phare. Now though he does not have much time to work on his own comics, as he is busy working on graphic design projects for Sonleuk Thmey, the graphic arts studio and publishing house that Phare established in January 2009.

Sonleuk Thmey contracts five graduates from Phare’s visual arts school as illustrators and designers. Under the guidance of a French graphic designer, the artists are responsible for delivering commissioned projects. In return they receive a salary, insurance benefits, and valuable work experience.

Not that it is job security that drives Prak forwards on his chosen path, rather, he is motivated by a basic love of drawing, as well as an altruistic desire to get Cambodians more interested in reading.

“In other countries, there are so many books for people to read already,” he says. “In Cambodia, there is less. I hope to use my skills to design more so people have plenty to read.”

Preserving the Past
Few people in Cambodia know more about available reading material in the country, especially in the illustrated form, than John Weeks. Besides working as a comics artist himself, Weeks has made it a mission to support the growth of comics in Cambodia.

The American came to Cambodia 10 years ago. In 2006, he co-founded Our Books, a Phnom Penh-based non-profit organisation that promotes Cambodian comic book culture. Serving as an invaluable resource for local comics artists, the organisation facilitates workshops, organises exhibitions, and publishes selected graphic novels.

One endeavour of Our Books is to digitally archive comics produced in Cambodia. The archive, of around 300 works, provides a comprehensive perspective on how comics in Cambodia have evolved over the years preserving the artwork for the future.

“People have these collections that are going to disintegrate,” says Weeks. “If we don’t do something, who will?”

Through Our Books’ various efforts to preserve comics, Weeks has come to piece together an understanding of the history of comics in Cambodia.

Domestic comics date back to 1964, when artist Uth Roeun published what is regarded as the first comic book in Cambodia. For the next decade, comics seemed to enjoy a wide popularity. Yet as with other Cambodian art forms, the terror of war and the Khmer Rouge period during the 1970s stifled the comic book scene.

After the Khmer Rouge regime was overthrown and the country began to stabilise in the 1980s, the new socialist government’s subsidy of the arts helped comics to flourish again. Weeks describes the initiation of a sort of cottage industry, with home screen-printed comics for sale in the marketplace. In pre-television days, comics were an accessible source of entertainment for Cambodians. According to Weeks, content generally encompassed romance, horror and interpretations of Khmer legends.

Towards the start of the 1990s, private printing presses became allowed. Without copyright protection, authors saw their work appear under the names of others. Earning money from creating new comics became less viable. As other forms of entertainment materialised, the demand for comics waned, and the scene fizzled out.

“There was this explosion of comics in the eighties, and then a lot of people went back to doing other work, such as architectural drawing and painting,” says Weeks. “We know these people are out there, but keeping tabs on an entire community takes some doing.”

Tracking down comics much as a detective follows a trail of clues, Weeks often relies on word of mouth to discover new leads and follow up on obscure angles. In his quest, he has even stumbled across manuscripts yet to be published.

One such example is Flower of Battambang by Em Satya. Although one of the most prolific comics artists from the 1980s, Em’s book sat in his drawer for years until he showed it to Weeks. With the support of the French Embassy’s Valorisation de l’Écrit en Asie du Sud-Est project, Our Books published the book in 2007. It first run sold out almost immediately.

Tradition Passed Down
Weeks believes that the crop of new comics artists can gain a lot from understanding the older generation of Cambodian comics artists.

One such is Ing Phouséra, known more commonly by his nom de plume Séra.

Séra believes that there has always been a “strong place for images” in Cambodian culture. “It suffices to enter into a temple to realise that,” he says.

Born to a French mother and a Cambodian father, Séra was 13 when the Khmer Rouge took control of the government. He and his family fled Phnom Penh to France, where he has resided ever since.

Impasse et Rouge, his first publication in 1995, employs a dark, dramatic aesthetic to depict the gradual fall of Cambodia to the Khmer Rouge. Though Séra’s beautifully rendered graphic novels have earned him fame on an international level, on his return visits to Cambodia, he is keen to help develop local talent. In coordination with VALÉASE, Séra directed a series of workshops in Phnom Penh and Battambang from 2005 to 2008 entitled (Re)Générations.

“(Re)Générations is a project born from a desire to breathe life into comics in Cambodia,” says Séra. “I notice that the youth I meet are hungry for images and the ability to use them for self-expression. I do not impose anything big. I do nothing more than propose a framework. Then I accompany the current.”

Published in 2008, (Re)Générations: La Nouvelle Bande Dessinée Khmère showcases selected comics from the workshop participants, including Prak Ke and fellow Sonleuk Thmey designer Reun Sokhom. The premier anthology of its type in Cambodia, the publication reveals a diversity of content and techniques previously unseen in local comics. Featured strips depict the daily life and struggles of Cambodians, providing testament to the power of using comics to relate the country’s stories. Some using watercolours, some simply using pen, the artists have developed their own individual styles, each finding distinct forms of expression. Specific influences, whether foreign or domestic, are difficult to pinpoint.

“There is not yet a trend defining comics in Cambodia at the moment. It is too early,” notes Séra. “Yet what I can confirm is that today the youth are open to the world.”

The level of talent among these artists is striking, but Séra is aware that talent alone is not enough.

“There is only one thing that is valuable,” he says, echoing Prak Ke. “Hard work and perseverance. The young authors in the country must work daily. Only then will the fruits of their labour come.”

Propelled by Passion
How realistic is it for young comics to have sufficient time to perfect their chosen art? Even if they have the necessary skills there are many societal, as well as financial pressures, working to prevent artists from pursuing their talent.

Try Samphos is a prime example. Though Try enjoyed drawing from a young age, her family discouraged her from considering art as anything more than a hobby.

“My parents did not want me to be an artist,” she says. “They thought artists couldn’t earn money.” When it came to university, she pushed aside any idea of applying to art school in order to pursue a more practical degree in management.

For most post-war Cambodians, choosing a profession is about finding a source of dependable income. Being an artist is seen as an unreliable choice of profession.

Despite the concerns of her parents, Try has found a way to do what she loves.

Continuing to draw for her own enjoyment, she honed her skills by participating in various workshops. She taught herself how to use Photoshop and Quark Express, so that she can scan her drawings and fill in the colour digitally.

Try now works as a graphic designer and comics artist, taking on the occasional commission for NGO projects.

She has also self-published six of her own written and illustrated children’s books, including one comic-style book. “I cannot do any other job, I only love this,” she says.

An Income from Art
Try is not alone in turning to NGOs for work. Local and international organisations, as well as government agencies, have used comic books to illustrate educational messages on topics such as HIV and AIDs awareness, water safety, and children’s rights.

Makara Soeung is one artist who has capitalised on the demand for commissioned publications. Starting with US$800, he set up his own printing house, Grand Arts. The company has now published around 100 publications since 1998, many of which are for NGO and government agency projects.

“There are many companies using comics artists,” says Makara. “If artists have good imagination and know how to make relationships, they can support their living.”

According to Makara, it is possible to be both a canny businessman and an artist, though perhaps not at the same time. For now, Makara is grasping the opportunity to finance himself in the present. He finds he hasn’t the free time to create comics now—though he looks forward to the day when he will again. “When my business is stable, then I will only do comic books,” he says.

What’s next?
So what does the future hold for Cambodia’s young comics artist community? A recent success story illustrates the present predicament.

In March 2010, Sonleuk Thmey published two graphic novels, Nos Coeurs and Au Commencement, under the editorship of Séra.

Based on workshops held from June 2008 to January 2010, Séra selected artists Nuong Sakal and Chea Sereyroth to illustrate the publications. Featuring modern drawing techniques and bold storylines, the two novels represent a remarkable achievement for comics in Cambodia.

Like many of the workshops and publications over recent years the graphic novels were funded through the support of VALÉASE. Dependency on subsidies makes a fragile situation for the production of comics in Cambodia. Since the VALÉASE project ended, Séra’s plans for future workshops and publications have been placed on hold.

“There is still a lot to do, to pass on, but the funds are missing,” he says. “I do not know yet how things will continue in the near future.”

Strikingly gifted artist Chea, the illustrator of Au Commencement who Séra refers to as one of the most promising young cartoonists, is currently preparing another graphic novel. Yet when it comes to the issue of how he will publish his future work, Chea says he does not know. 

“Cambodians are not really interested in comics nowadays, but they just need to try them,” comments Chea. “They are good entertainment.”

In order for comics to advance in Cambodia, building readership and demand is key.

“We’re going to need a market that exists without subsidies,” says Weeks. “The fact that it was thriving before in the 1980s, and it sounded pretty good in the 1960s, raises the question of what can we do to get it up to speed now?”

Until comics can sell for profit, commissions from the NGO sector are maintaining comics in Cambodia. Stories like those of Prak, Makara, and Try show that some comics artists can earn a living, though it requires tailoring their art to meet the demands of clients.

The new generation of comics artists, eager to explore new forms and encouraged by opportunities to do so, will have to come up with their own answers as to what the future holds for them. Whether that will be in full-technicolour or more black than white, only time will tell.


Uth Roeun, Father of Cambodian Comics
“I drew the villages, the countryside, the palms, the mangos, the coconuts, the beautiful girls,” Uth Roeun smiles. “There were a lot of beautiful girls who I was secretly drawing.”

Reading Tin Tin and other French comics, the author of Cambodia’s first comic book in 1964 became inspired by the idea of using drawings to tell a story. Though when it came to creating a drawing style, he closed his books and sought to create something of his own. Uth began to sketch everything he saw around him. He translated the people and landscape of Cambodia into the visual language of comics.

“At that time, there were no comics artists in Cambodia,” says Uth.

For the next decade, Uth published approximately 40 comic books. Many were retellings of Khmer legends, such as his rendition of classic tale Tum Teav, while other narratives revolved around romance and daily Cambodian life.

Uth recalls how comics were passed among friends, so that each comic purchased ended up in the hands of several readers.

“Comic books are easy for people to understand,” he explains. “At the time, there were no movies. Most Cambodians could not read, but could understand comic books.”

His recollections paint a picture of a time when comics were in demand and structures were in place to supply that demand. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, Uth says he easily earned a living from his comics. He maintains that royalties from his first comic book were the equivalent to two thousand dollars by today’s standards.

Now 65, Uth can be found most days in his office at the base of Wat Phnom, in the centre for the Association of Cambodian Artist Friends that he founded in 2000. He stopped making comic books years ago due to weakening eyesight, but still continues to create art. Works in progress fill the room—an immense canvas presents the beginnings of a fruit still life and a wooden model of Angkor Wat is being partially covered in gold leaf.

In fact, a career in comics has been only a small part of Uth’s colourful life. He’s illustrated for schoolbooks, novel covers and magazines. During the Khmer Rouge regime, Uth survived by painting portraits in exchange for food and other necessities. He served as Department Chief for Publishing at the Ministry of Education before retiring in 2001. Today, painting is his main activity.

Over the past five decades, Uth has seen comics pass through various stages, so he is ideally placed to comment on the current crop of cartoonists.

“The young artists now are very good,” he says, before adding with a hint of a smile. “Some are even better than me.”


Where to Buy Comics in Phnom Penh
Carnets d’Asie, 218 Street 184. The bookshop at the French Cultural Centre features a handful of Séra’s publications, the (Re)Générations anthology and graphic novels, Em Satya’s Fleur de Battambang, and several French bandes dessinées.

International Book Centre, 250 Monivong Boulevard. IBC offers a selection of independent Cambodian comic books.

Monument Books, 111 Norodom Boulevard. A go-to for a wide array of foreign graphic novels, including some local publications such as John Weeks’ QuickDraw.

O’Russei Market, Street 182 at Street 63. Though scavenging is required, the books section sells screen-printed versions of older Cambodian comics.


24 Hour Comics Day
Catch comic book artists in action at the 24 Hour Comics Day event on Oct. 3 at Java Café and Gallery. Every year, comic book artists worldwide gather to share ideas, defy sleep and come up with 24 original pages over the course of a mere 24 hours.

Organised by Our Books, a group of artists in Phnom Penh are accepting the challenge. Though 2010 will be the third year that cartoonists in Cambodia are joining in, this marks the first time for participation over the full 24-hour period. An opportunity for artists to come together, the event will also link to the global comics community via a web cam.

Pages will be posted for exhibition as completed and kept on display at Java for one month following the event. Artwork can be purchased for US$24 a page.

Cambodian and foreign artists of all skill levels are welcome. Paper, art supplies, and coffee will be on hand for all those who want to join in the fun.

24 Hour Comics Day Cambodia, Java Café and Gallery, 56e1 Sihanouk Boulevard, 8am on Oct. 3 to 8am on Oct. 4. Follow at home via webcam and Twitter at: www.javaarts.org.