"[In Wendy, Master of Art,] Scott manages a rare thing: the sharpness of his satire doesn’t preclude a realistic rendering of personhood, and the seeming flatness opens up, at every turn, to a depth of feeling…. His mastery of his characters’ faces and gestures is also wonderful, his line quick and sure and expressive." —The New Yorker
The existential dread of making (or not making) art takes center stage in this trenchant satire of MFA culture
Wendy is an aspiring contemporary artist whose adventures have taken her to galleries, art openings, and parties in Los Angeles, Tokyo, and Toronto. In Wendy, Master of Art, Walter Scott’s sly wit and social commentary zero in on MFA culture as our hero hunkers down to complete a master of fine arts at the University of Hell in small-town Ontario.
Finally Wendy has space to refine her artistic practice, but in this calm, all of her unresolved insecurities and fears explode at full volume—usually while hungover. What is the post-Jungian object as symbol? Will she ever understand her course reading—or herself? What if she’s just not smart enough? As she develops as an artist and a person, Wendy also finds herself in a teaching position, mentoring a perpetually sobbing grade-grubbing undergrad.
Scott’s incisively funny take on art school pretensions isn’t the only focus. Wendy, Master of Art explores the politics of open relationships and polyamory, performative activism, the precariousness of a life in the arts, as well as the complexities of gender identity, sex work, drug use, and more. At its heart, this is a book about the give and take of community—about learning to navigate empathy and boundaries, and to respect herself. It is deeply funny and endlessly relatable as it shows Wendy growing from millennial art party girl to successful artist, friend, teacher—and Master of Art.
Walter Scott is an interdisciplinary artist working with writing, illustration, performance and sculpture. In 2011 while living in Montreal, he began a comic book series, Wendy, exploring the narrative of a fictional young woman living in an urban centre, who aspires to global success and art stardom but whose dreams are perpetually derailed. The position of the outsider and shape shifter is central to this body of work and the influence of feminist icons such as Elle Woods in Legally Blonde or artist, punk poet, experimental novelist and filmmaker Kathy Acker lingers. Recent exhibitions include Fictive Communities, Koganecho Bazaar, Yokohama, Japan 2014, Pre-Existing Work, Macaulay & Co. Fine Art, Vancouver 2015, and Stopping the Sun in Its Course, Francois Ghebaly Gallery, Los Angeles 2015.
Based on research in the AGO’s archives, Scott wrote fictions around the works in the collection to create new performances and installations during his residency.
I was not familiar with Walter Scott’s Wendy series of graphic novels, so I began here at what I take to be the end of it all, her graduation from the art school in Hell, Ontario. I see most of my Goodreads friends have been reading this for years and love Wendy. Well, I just met her, so I’ll start reading from the beginning now, book one ordered, and see if we grow to love each other. My view of this book is that it is good, funny, well-cartooned, has some heart, but as I see it it’s a part of a series of graphic novels by cartoonists who had terrible experiences in Art School that they want to now satirize, books such as Art School Confidential by Daniel Clowes, some of Jeffery Brown’s work, Cats of the Louvre, Catherine Ocelot’s Art Life, Karl Stevens’ The Winner, Joseph Remnant’s Cartoon Clouds, and on and on.
And all of these books are good and insightful and well-worth reading, but can be summed up by saying that Art School is too focused on High Art and the Pomposity of Postmodernism; in this one as with others the professors are no-talent folks that force their students to adopt the latest theory to frame their work. Their students go to school to make art, get drunk and high and have sex if they possibly can. Thus, Wendy falls in love with a guy who is already in a relationship (oh! boy! polyamory!); she makes it through, graduates, makes her share of art, but all she really wants is love.
I rate Wendy: Master of Art as 3.5 stars, though maybe if I read more of it I will like it better. It’s good, it’s funny, but check out some of the others, too, especially if you have been or are in Art School getting your MFA and especially if you would rather just make cartoons.
Oh joy. Another satirical graphic novel about art school.
All the usual stuff? Let's see . . . Angst and self-doubt about the artist's value as an artist. Mocking evaluations of art and discussions of the value of art in general. Colorfully weird classmates. Cranky old teachers. Personal friendships strained to the point of breaking. Twisted up romantic relationships. Substance abuse and related cringeworthy behavior. Godawful hangovers. Self-destruction. Vague and muddled self-realization.
Yeppity, yep, yep, yep. It's all in there.
I was unaware when I asked my library to purchase it due to its appearance on the Publishers Weekly 2020 Graphic Novel Critics Poll that this is the third book in a series, but I doubt reading the first two would really have done much to improve my opinion of this volume.
If this does something for you, be sure to check out the even more wretched Cannonball by Kelsey Wroten. (And see how I managed to unwittingly plagiarize my own review nearly two years down the road. I need to develop a new schtick, apparently. Or stop reading books about art schools.)
Wendy is back!!! Doing an MFA in Hell, no less. I, too, am desirous of untangling my relationship to materials but you’d never catch me saying that out loud (what happens on goodreads stays on goodreads).
PS I’m sensing a recurring theme in my recent obsession with literary works that satirize grad school… if anyone has any others, send them my way!!
On one hand, MFA programs are definitely a big circle jerk. On the other, you DO get jerked off when you're in a circle jerk, so...kind of the same result, right?
Maybe I just think making art to impress others is silly, and it doesn't really work because most people who would be impressed by it aren't going to be because their role is to critique, and they can make themselves appear smart by throwing a smart-sounding critique your way, even if the critique doesn't connect to the art all that well.
Maybe those who can't do art critique it.
Those who can't make graphic novels critique them.
The UBC library has the Wendy series and all my ills have been solved. This series is perhaps Canada’s best literary offering to the world. For those who find Brat too mainstream, one-dimensional, and patronizing: I offer you Wendy.
I’ve also accidentally begun reading this series out of order because I got confused where this one fell in the sequence but as some annoying graduate student might say, maybe I’m just queering narrative chronology 😌
I can find no fault in the Wendy series! I love each one! Particularly funny if you are or were involved in or adjacent to the fine arts scene in higher ed.
Säger bara Lacan och Derrida... Om livet som konstskolestudent. Antagligen autofiktion.
Presenteras i vinjetter, från fester, vernissager, barer eller klassrum. Meningslösa konversationer med ord som 'ontologisk' och 'dogma'.
En liten detalj jag tyckte var mycket rolig var att highstreet:en i den kanadensiska hålan Hell(!) har en butik vid namn Yawn & Yarn - nära Hetero Bar & Grill. Och i bokens Montréal finns Café Blasé.
This was an entertaining graphic novel about a chaotic girl doing her masters. I thought the author explored modern relationships and issues very well, crafting several characters you can openly laugh at. I needed to switch my brain off by reading this in one sitting after my traumatic OSCE.
I picked up Wendy at my local bookstore, stopped by a café on the way home and read it right through. Fortunately I was sitting on a bench outside so my laughter only alarmed pedestrians. This is niche humor for sure – if you haven’t done your MFA or (better) had friends who have – then probably the jokes lose some context. But if you have… pure snort-out-loud joy awaits.
Way back in the 80s I was in grad school getting a strong dose of postmodernist Theory. I had several friends at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago writing indigestible artist’s statements, enduring critques, wearing black. Judging from Wendy’s adventures in the art program in Hell, Ontario, not much has changed. From the first panels (“somewhere in Berlin”) jokes are scattered everywhere, relentlessly – in the Expressionist expressions of the characters, the dialogue (“Oh good, we thought you were American”), the club clothes (or lack of them), or just in the absurdist details littering the corners. Scott’s style of rapid scrawling reminds me of the long forgotten but hugely talented, colossally hilarious Claire Bretécher.
And praise the comic gods again for Drawn & Quarterly. I loved Wendy, I have been Wendy.
Scott continues this series strong. Wendy goes back to school to Hell, Ontario full of day trips to Toronto and workshops with her classmates. A great biting satire of the art world.
if you work in any proximity to artists then i can't really recommend the wendy books enough (even if you just like, have spent any amount of time in montreal). this volume balances a lot of the things i really liked about the first volume while dropping many of the more gimmicky bits that didn't really land for me in the second volume. now i'm interested in really long string, it's crazy how long it can be sometimes
2.5 Funny satiric take on grad school theory classes. Brought me right back to those classes where you tried to do the dang reading-really you did! 😂 The mention of Lacan made me break out in a cold sweat anew. Crazy, manic illustrations that I think even Charles Sanders Pierce would say nail it. Definitely going to look for the rest of the Wendy series.
C’est un autre cinq étoiles pour ce roman graphique. On y retrouve Wendy, quelques années plus tard, dans une université ontarienne où elle est inscrite à la maîtrise. Encore une fois, l’histoire montre énormément d’autodérision, traitant avec humour des postures propres aux études aux cycles supérieurs. J’ai ri comme pas possible !