In his new graphic biography, Muybridge, Quebec cartoonist Guy Delisle delivers a portrait of an unusual man’s very unusual life. Though he never became a household name like his contemporary Thomas Edison (who also appears in this book), inventor and photographer Eadweard Muybridge’s work paved the way for the invention of animation and motion pictures, and ultimately shaped the deeply visual culture we all inhabit today.
Delisle first made his name in graphic reportage, drawing first-hand accounts of his time in Asia while working for animation studios in Pyongyang: A Journey in North Korea and Shenzhen, both published in English by Montreal house Drawn & Quarterly. It’s no surprise then, that the life story of this globe-trotting, 19th-century proto-animator was an appealing subject.
Those who are familiar with Muybridge at all likely know him for his series of photographic studies of motion, most famously of galloping horses, compiled in the volumes The Human Figure in Motion and Animals in Motion; these have served as references for artists of all types since their publication 120 years ago. In Muybridge, Delisle tells the story of how a once-celebrated landscape photographer was commissioned to conduct these motion studies by an eccentric millionaire, and how that commission changed the course of the visual arts forever.
If the rapid pace of technological change in the Victorian age is the theme, a very human life, full of drama, intrigue, and tragedy provides the structure. At the age of 30, a stagecoach accident left Muybridge in a coma, and ultimately changed both his personality and his hair colour. He later murdered his wife’s lover, in front of witnesses, but avoided prison altogether. And that same millionaire-patron (Leland Stanford, who founded the eponymous university), went on to claim credit for Muybridge’s work. Delisle reveals a strange, emotional man motivated by his most basic needs – to have a home and cobble together an income – who finds himself in extreme situations, hobnobbing with luminaries and dastards, and making scientific breakthroughs through a scrambling combination of obsession and desperation.
Despite the high stakes and the cantankerousness of his subject, Delisle teases out a pleasingly deadpan, ironic tone throughout. Far from a “Great Man” narrative, Muybridge disrupts the genius-inventor mystique cultivated by the likes of Edison, and shows how much circumstance and happenstance might be the better part of brilliance.
Delisle’s cartooning is perfectly suited to his narrative. Many of his panels are actually quite understated, with economical linework, a muted palette (evoking sepia tone), and facial expressions hidden behind Victorian beards. But this baseline restraint is a backdrop for the bolder, more dramatic, or more absurd moments when Delisle deftly deploys bold colours, fluid, expressive gestures, or moodier settings. The wry tone of Muybridge is due in large part to the interplay between these two modes. The story is supported by ample examples of Muybridge’s actual photography, appearing either captioned and outside of the main flow of the action, almost as plates, or integrated directly into Delisle’s own panels.
Of course this book will have a particular appeal for photography and film buffs, and those already familiar with Muybridge’s work and legacy. But for the rest of us, for whom this eccentric figure is a half-remembered footnote, Muybridge will prove an absorbing, delightful, and truly fascinating tale.