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For cartoon-college grads, future is hard to sketch
The first class to graduate is looking to break into the fast-growing world of graphic novels and comics.
from the May 11, 2007 edition
Page 2 of 3
When Ms. Frakes, a second-year student from Olympia, Wash., who earned her BA from Evergreen State College, first told friends and family she was off to cartoon school, "There was mostly laughter," she said. "I still get a lot of jokes: 'Oh, you couldn't get into clown school.'" Two years later, she was sitting across from an editor whose young imprint boasts an impressive catalog of well-regarded graphic novels.
On Sept. 12, 2005, in a space first occupied by the Colodny Surprise Department Store circa 1925, a drawing teacher and an arts administrator opened a two-year school. James Sturm, whose graphic novel, "The Golem's Mighty Swing," (Drawn and Quarterly), was honored by Time magazine in 2001, and Michelle Ollie, formerly at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design, envisioned a place where the next generation of cartoonists could learn their craft.

Today, the building has the lofty feel of an art school. The floors are the original wood. Silver wire is strung across white walls, where student work hangs from matching silver binder clips.
The first two years have been a success. They're working toward accreditation. Applications are up. Enrollment is steady. And the professionals who pass through as guest lecturers – as many as 15 a semester – are luminaries of the comics world. Mr. Spiegelman. Chris Ware. Alison Bechdel.
But now comes the real test. With little more than a month to go, it was unclear whether the school would be able to grant degrees.
Moreover, no one had landed a coveted book contract. The student whom classmates singled out as having already achieved a measure of success was Alexis Frederick-Frost, a lithe, ponytailed cyclist from Atlanta who studied studio art in college. He won a prestigious Xeric award earlier this year to self-publish a slim comic book about an Italian bike race. "La Primavera," which sells for $9, is inked in black and shades of blue and has the feel of the French animated film "The Triplets of Belleville."
"I'm trying to generate buzz with this comic, or use it as a calling card," he said.
He has accepted a summer internship with Drawn and Quarterly in Montreal. After that? He's not sure. But like others in the class, he plans to stay close to this town, where the White River flows into the Connecticut River, near the school that has nurtured his talent for the past two years.
Josie Whitmore, a classmate from Freeland, Md., will work a "regular Joe-Schmo job" while trying to launch a freelance illustration career. Meaning, she'll keep her job at the front desk of the Hotel Coolidge, across from the school, and pay a $120 annual fee to use the school's production lab.
At Bryn Mawr College in Pennsylvania, Ms. Whitmore was an East Asian studies major. Opening her laptop, she clicked on a cartoon panel of a man clutching a dripping mop, drawn in brush strokes unmistakably reminiscent of Eastern calligraphy.










