I first encountered Matt Lesniewski's comics while sitting in a candlelit church waiting for a violin and piano duet to walk onto the podium and play the hits of Fleetwood Mac. It was then that I received a text from a friend that read “Check this out” with a link to Lesniewski’s incredibly detailed work. The few minutes before the concert spent scrolling and zooming under candlelight left a strong enough impression on me to order all of his comics when I made it home (after an excellent duet).
While I was at first unsure of how to conceptualize the shifts in Lesniewski’s style over the years, I soon understood them in terms of granularity. Where his early, Eisner-nominated The Freak (self-published, 2018; AdHouse Books, 2019) consists of seemingly infinite detail, his recent Oni Press miniseries, Faceless and the Family (2023-24), offers a sculptural dimension to the flat paper of the comics medium through Seurat-like touches; a collected edition is due in July. Lesniewski’s is a style unlike any other, one that demands both the artist’s and reader’s careful attention.
I had the pleasure of exchanging emails with Lesniewski to discuss his career, his interests in storytelling, and why he keeps pushing his style to its very limits.
-Jake Zawlacki
JAKE ZAWLACKI: How long have you been drawing comics?
MATT LESNIEWSKI: I think the first comic I ever tried drawing was when I was 5 or 6 years old, but I didn’t do much in the way of comics after that. It was all about doodling my favorite characters or making up my own. I always loved comics and wanted to draw them, but I didn’t have the discipline to really sit down and write/draw a story, at least not yet. It’s a lot of hard work. It wasn’t until just after high school I made a serious attempt at trying to break into comics, and even then it took everything in me to draw four or five sample pages of a story I made up without much thought. In my young, ignorant mind, I’d be hired because of how great my art was, and I’d be forced to do the work of 22 pages a month of art because I wouldn’t have a choice. It was the perfect plan - that never came to fruition. I was trying to "break in" and be a penciler for Marvel or DC at the time. Or anyone who would hire me. It didn’t happen. That was my only aspiration at the time. So... to answer your question, I consider that time trying to break in when I really started. It’s a rocky start, but a start nonetheless. So something like 12 years.
I’ve seen some titles like Arctic Hell [2015], Alone Again [2016], and Antique [2016] credited to you, but can’t seem to find them anywhere. Are those from that early “break in” attempt?
No, those were books I did after the window of time when I just tried breaking in as a penciler. After sending a bunch of submissions to publishers by myself and with writers in attempts to get projects published, eventually it hit me that it might be worth it to try writing my own stories. That’s where Arctic Hell came in. It’s just a one-shot that I self-published about a decade ago now. And it’s not very good. But I proved to myself that it was possible, and it felt like a step in the right direction. Not only creatively, but it opened a path to getting a comics career off the ground in a more practical way. It was a path where I had limitless creative control. It was much more creatively fulfilling. And something about it seemed like a much more likely way to get my work in the hands of people who would be interested in it, even if it was something that blossomed down the road.
So after Arctic Hell, I did continue to pitch things with writers, but more and more it seemed like whenever I just did my own thing, things were starting to get somewhere. Artistically and in terms of a career. So I kept doing that over the years with books like Alone Again, Antique and even The Freak, except that was the one that changed everything.
Seeing your work over the last few years, it’s hard to imagine you submitting artwork that would fit with mainstream superhero comics. Did your work become more stylized as you began to write your own stuff?
You’re not wrong about that, but somehow this is something I only realized years later. Meaning, I always thought that having a unique art style would be something that would make me stand out from the pack of artists trying their best to look like whatever was popular at the moment. To me, that’s one of the things that makes an artist interesting. They’re not like anyone else. It took me a while to realize that an artist whose work isn’t easy to categorize or doesn’t necessarily look somewhat similar to the books it’s sitting next to would be a risk for a lot of publishers. Especially ones like Marvel and DC. I was thinking of it like an artist, and they’re thinking of it like a business, which makes complete sense. Why gamble on an artist no one knows with a style that’s a bit odd and hope it sells, when you can hire someone whose work looks like stuff that already sells? The only way my stuff would work there is if there’s a track record of a lot of people already liking it and buying it. It is what it is. But, I also realized a while ago that I’m not the type of artist that would make sense there, for the most part. It makes a lot more sense for me to do my own thing, let my art continue to evolve and grow and be the unique thing that it is. I’m embracing what I do creatively, and that seems like the best way to go. If Marvel, DC, or anyone else is on board with that too, then things might work out. The same goes for people reading my comics. I don’t think they want a watered-down version of what I’m doing. They want me to do my thing. You only go to my restaurant because there’s no other one like it in town. And I’m pretty good at making my food. Why change that?
When you were submitting to publishers, was this like the old pre-digital era where an artist would send off a couple pages to the editor at Marvel or DC and hope they’d get a letter back? Or were these formal proposals with outlined stories to indie presses?
It was definitely already the digital era. But I do remember, in the very beginning, doing it the old school way of drawing my pages, going to a UPS store and trying to figure out the scanner/printer. Then mailing the copies in a big yellow envelope and hoping for the best. They were all unsolicited, as I didn’t know anyone in comics, not even a friend. I didn’t even know that an editor would be the person I should be hoping notices the package. So, I just went online in 2011/2012 and hunted down any contact I could find. Small indie publishers that probably aren’t in business anymore, all the way up to Marvel, DC, Dark Horse, etc. I’m sure some of them were just thrown out or didn’t even make it to the address. On the first go-round I only got a response from one or two, and they told me to keep working at it but I wasn’t good enough. Which for me was huge. It actually felt incredible to get a response and some sort of constructive feedback. Somehow, that’s all I needed at the time to keep trying. The process quickly developed into doing the same thing, but over email.
How did The Freak change everything?
That was my first published book. My work was in comic book stores across the world. Chris Pitzer changed my life and started my comic book career. Something about that book resonated with people in a way that the previous ones didn’t. It all started at a convention in North Carolina, HeroesCon, 2018. I had already been to that show two years in a row previously, but not much happened at them. Not many people stopped at my table. But it was fun, and I liked a lot about the show. Especially the creators who were all there. At the show where I brought the first chapter of The Freak (which I printed 100 copies of or so myself), instantly things were different. People were stopping at my table, buying the book and passing it around. They were studying my original art. It was like a dream. It was crazy. I knew I had something special. Little did I know, Chris Pitzer even bought a copy. A month or two after the show, I started pitching the book to different publishers, including Chris’ Adhouse Books, and he accepted it. Everyone else turned it down or didn’t respond. If all that wasn’t unbelievable enough, eventually it earned me an Eisner nomination. I still can’t believe all of that happened.
Was the process different for The Freak compared to earlier comics you were making? When you look back, can you see a clear shift separating your work before and after The Freak?
Oh, definitely. Just before the making of The Freak, I was getting very frustrated that things were not only not taking off, but seemingly not going anywhere. I was done with not being noticed. A switch was suddenly flipped. I was going to draw a book that you HAD to notice. That was my mentality. I poured everything into it. And even that almost wasn’t enough, but luckily Chris gave me a chance. I think it was that energy mixed with a very good concept and story. It was lightning in a bottle that I’m not sure I’ve been able to harness since then. It was a very distinct feeling and time I don’t think I’ll ever forget. But who knows, maybe working with that intensity and passion didn’t actually make a difference and it would have gotten attention anyway, but I’m not so sure about that.
The Freak has this incredibly detailed, “everything but the kitchen sink” aesthetic. When you were creating this style, where people “HAD to notice,” how were you formulating it? Was it inspired by fine artists? Independent comic artists? Because it definitely isn’t a style that derives from Marvel or DC.
Right. The art style went hand in hand with my mentality at the time. Draw everything. Draw in a way that people would have to respect it and notice it. Draw in a way that an editor or anyone else couldn’t point to something and say, “Hey, you didn’t draw a background here.” Go all out and draw with such explosive enthusiasm that you’d have to notice. At the very least, I wouldn’t be ignored again. Even if it wasn’t your cup of tea, you’d have to at least give me some credit for what I did.
But I didn’t create the style itself on the spot before doing that book. I really just have one art style and it continues to evolve. So what I did at the time was just a continuation of what I always did, but I was using where I was in the evolution timeline of my art, if that makes sense. I rarely get anything from looking at other artists. That’s the last thing I want to do. Like I said, I’ve always tried to be my own artist and purposely tried to avoid looking like anyone else. If anything, it was a combination of the skills I had developed up until that point, and learning through experimenting and drawing itself. Of course, I am influenced by other artists. I’m just trying to clarify that I don’t study them, like a lot of other artists do. I’ve never sat back and tried to find what tricks I can pull from other artist’s work. What’s the fun in that? Where’s the creativity? That’s bogus and lame. I’ve never understood that or related to the idea of doing that.
But if I have any comic art influence in my creative DNA, it actually is the Marvel and DC stuff. Or at least the mainstream superhero comics I happened to see. That’s just about all I read up until I started to try and break in. I didn’t really know comics to be anything else. One other huge element that dictated the way my art looked at that time, though, would be that I always struggled to draw shadows or values of any kind. So I avoided it completely. I didn’t make a real effort to learn that stuff until 2019 or so, and eventually integrated it naturally into my work.
I might be overanalyzing, but it sounds like Max Weber’s Protestant Ethic, where there’s this religious conception of labor and earning respect (blessings) of editors (God). What was your family dynamic like growing up? Did you have a lot of creative people around you?
That might be a reach. I wasn’t raised religious at all. I was just trying whatever I could think of when nothing else seemed to work. If I tried as hard as I could, something might work out. That was the plan and outlook when The Freak came to me. I did have artists in the family, and I was encouraged to draw ever since I was a kid. It’s always been thought of as a positive thing. So I definitely had a huge leg up there. Not only in the amount of experience I have by now, but also the idea that it’s okay and good to create things. There’s something to be said for that.
That “permission” to create, if I can use the word, is huge. So, The Freak comes out, and now you’re a known quantity. Is that what led to Crimson Flower [2021], Static [2021] and Mind MGMT: Bootleg [2022, all published by Dark Horse]?
Yeah, pretty much. Static came first, though. When I tried getting that one out there, it was still an uphill battle. Back to square one. I wasn’t that known yet, and this would have been before The Freak was released through AdHouse by a few months. But long story short, I did Static. Then Matt Kindt noticed The Freak and liked my work, which led to Crimson Flower [which Kindt wrote] and eventually Mind MGMT: Bootleg [a multi-artist spinoff of Kindt's solo Dark Horse series].
It’s interesting to look at those three books because you can already see stylistic shifts away from The Freak - which is odd, because The Freak looks like such a complete and refined aesthetic. If the initial point of that intricate and detailed style was to find success, which you did, what led to further evolution?
That’s a good question. I think I can’t really stop my art from continuing to morph into something else. Whether it happens to improve or not, something in me won’t allow myself to arrive at a style. It just doesn’t work like that for me. If I really had to examine it, I think it’s mostly a mix of an unending desire to try and improve, a desire to experiment, and a need to keep myself entertained. Hopefully with that equation, fans of my work won’t ever stop looking either. But it’s completely a natural running machine going on in me that I can barely attempt to explain. It’s just something that luckily keeps running, and for the most part I’m happy with the way it’s doing so. Even the frustrations that come along with it. It’s all part of the chaotic process. If I try to really study it too much, I’m afraid of what I’ll find. I’m afraid it’ll stop or change in a way I don’t like. So yeah, I’m not sure that answers things. But at the same time it’s something I think might be better off left unanswered.
I mean, with the amount of detail that goes into your work, you’ve got to keep yourself entertained. But now we’ve arrived at your latest comic with Oni Press, Faceless and the Family. As far as style goes, I’ve never seen anything like it. If I had to try and pin it down, I’d say it looks like if Sam Kieth studied under Constantin Brâncuși. There’s this surreal yet geometric style, a space western set on a planet in the shape of a hand, and characters that range from former gang members to folks off the pages of The Grapes of Wrath. How do you conceptualize genre, both stylistically and thematically, in your work?
It never occurred to me to refer to this book as a "space western," but that’s about perfect. I think in the upcoming hardcover collection Oni simply labeled it "fantasy," which works too. So "space fantasy western" might be what I’m looking for. Anyway, when it comes to genre, much like my art, I never really concerned myself with trying to fit things in a box. It’s not even something I really think about until I have to try and explain the thing I made. It’s created some challenges in that regard too, but I think creatively it really opens things up. I’m making the type of comics I’d want to see, and part of that is going to a place you can only imagine. Don’t get me wrong, a straight-up crime story or horror is great too, but when it comes to grabbing a bunch of pens, a stack of paper and using your imagination to tell a story, why not really try and stretch the limits? It’s fun for me to make, and hopefully other people find something about it amusing as well. I might sound like a broken record, but in terms of the art style, this really is just the ongoing evolution of what I was doing in The Freak, and even everything before it. The only thing intentional about this one was I took even more time than usual, in an attempt to give the art a lot more care and attention. I’m still not even close to satisfied with that part of it, but I think it’s some of my best stuff so far.
It certainly is. It’s also a style that seems to be getting traction with other publishers for variant covers. You’ve done covers for the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Usagi Yojimbo, XINO, The Deviant, with another on the way for Into the Unbeing. What kind of creative itch do doing covers scratch? How does this kind of work come about?
They’re fun because they’re a one-and-done type of thing. They also give you the challenge of trying to either tease what the issue might be about without giving too much away, or highlighting a moment from the story in your own way. That’s one of the most enjoyable parts: interpreting a character/characters in my own style and delivering that in the best way I can. Hopefully in a way that helps sell the book. And a lot of times they can be rewarding to do because I’m not worried about tying together a story and considering a litany of things in the way I’d be doing so when drawing a comic. It’s just one image, and in a lot of ways I just get to draw and have fun, for the most part. Once the initial sketch/concept is approved.
More often than not, [variants] come about when one of the creators reaches out to me personally. It’s even happened quite a bit at conventions, which I find interesting. I don’t know if it’s a matter of convenience, and seeing me sitting there feels like the best way to ask, rather than email. Or it could be people just prefer doing that in person for whatever reason. Either way, I’m fine with it! Keep them coming.
We’ve talked about your evolution as an artist, but I wanted to dig into your interests as a storyteller. In thinking of The Freak, Static and Faceless, there’s this interest in the loner or outcast. What draws you to those types of characters, and thus their stories?
They say write what you know, right? No, I’m kidding. Or am I? I don’t know, I guess it’s something I relate to on some level. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. Some of it is fiction, and some not. It all comes from my head. The loner type character is always something I’ve found interesting. The flawed person who doesn’t have everything figured out in their life. They have a hard time relating to "the crowd." That weird quiet person in the corner. Don’t you wonder what their story is? Don’t you feel for them? I know I do. I’m definitely aware of that particular, somewhat repeated theme in my stories, so much so that I almost decided not to follow through with Faceless. I really battled with myself, because it wasn’t until the story was pretty thoroughly fleshed out I realized it did resemble previous topics, even if in a new way. Especially considering Faceless and the Family is more of a group story. Soon enough, though, I decided I was going all the way with the idea because it was too good not to see it through. And I liked it that much. I’m really glad I did.
This is something I think about a lot, and I kind of like it the more I think about it. An R&B singer can do 10 albums in a row all about sex and love, and everyone calls them a genius - which is fair. A director can do their third slasher-horror movie in a row and no one seems to question it. Again, I think that’s cool. I really do. But I almost stopped myself from doing my recent comic just at the thought of it being in any way a repeat. Maybe it’s my own self-doubt or being too overly self-critical. I’m glad I won this battle, but the war wages on.
Anyway, my point is, I think there’s something to people who create things sticking to a lane, and "writing what they know." Whether that’s intentional, or if they’re creating something and similar themes emerge on their own. If anything, I think that shows some kind of authenticity. There’s something the artist clearly wants to say and it’s coming out of them whether they realize it or not. That’s pretty cool. Then there’s the artist who never in any way repeats themselves and they always have something completely new. I guess the case can be made that there are two types of creators in that regard. It’s a common thing that comes up if you really think about it.
I’ve heard it described as depth versus breadth, with many artists using varying degrees of both. It seems like westerns would be natural settings for those kinds of stories too. Even Crimson Flower has a similar frontier vibe of hunting down the rogue murderer. Thinking of Faceless, is there a way out of that isolation? Maybe this leads into the “Faceless Will Return” on the last page.
I think part of a way out is just taking the first step, even if there’s no destination. That’s how Faceless starts his journey on page one, and that was more or less the idea there. Just being done with whatever you’re no longer going to put up with and making a shift of some kind. Figure out the details later. All that mattered was the first step, because you weren’t even sure you’d be able to do that. Soon enough, just by doing that, Faceless realizes he’s not the only one out there who feels stuck and needing a way out. So yeah, I think all it takes sometimes is to start, and that might be the biggest hurdle.
And yes, Faceless is coming back. Things will continue from where they were left off, but this will also be a brand-new adventure that could stand on its own. I’m super-excited about it.
In addition to Faceless returning, what else can we look forward to seeing from you in the future? Stylistic changes? Any particular properties you’d like to work with?
I can’t predict any stylistic changes, but they can always happen. The only thing that’s really shifted since the last pages of Faceless and the Family is I’ve pared down the amount of different textures I’m using. So instead of five to six different ones, now I’m down to two or three at the most. It saves time, and I think it’s a bit less chaotic. Maybe a little easier to discern what’s happening, especially in wild moments in the comic - several characters, actions scenes, etc. A lot of time has been spent in the past just thinking about what textures will go where. Will they or won’t they clash with one another. And I’m still having to do that, but this choice makes things a little easier while still maintaining that quality I’m going for. I’m also playing with different ways to convey objects or characters in the foreground/background. I find that to be pretty fun and it’s something I’ve been experimenting with, so more of that could emerge. Other than that, it’s just a continuation of what I’ve been doing and any other changes will come about organically, if at all.
As far as properties I’d like to work with, I’m not sure. I wouldn’t be against just building up the Hand Planet and the Faceless world with more stories and characters, and making that everything it could be for the foreseeable future. That’s the realistic goal. At the same time, though, I can’t deny there still is that kid inside me who wants to do something with DC and/or Marvel and scratch that itch. Ideally it would only be if I could still be myself. Meaning, maintain my art style (which is something I would not compromise on) and being able to tell my own stories within that universe, my way. Within reason, of course. Doing my own miniseries that doesn’t effect continuity of anything would be really cool. Outside of that, I’m not sure what I’d want to do other than my own stuff. I’m not closed off to anything, but nothing else comes to mind.
The post “I Was Done With Not Being Noticed”: The Matt Lesniewski Interview appeared first on The Comics Journal.
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