Anton Kannemeyer, who creates comics under the alias Joe Dog, was born in 1967 and grew up in the Transvaal region in northern South Africa. In 1992, he co-founded (with artist Conrad Botes) Bitterkomix, an annual South African comics publication that unapologetically defies taboos and the cultural mainstream. His work—an often startling combination of political satire, social commentary, and biting humor—has been featured in over sixty group exhibitions and numerous solo shows, notably at the Jack Shainman Gallery in New York, Art on Paper Gallery in Johannesburg, and at the Michael Stevenson gallery in Cape Town. Kannemeyer has also curated several comic exhibitions in South Africa and Europe.

What initially drew you to the language of comics? How would you characterize your particular approach to the form?

AK: Initially I loved the fact that you can create your own visual world and make anything happen! Sometimes shocking things, in the case of a lot of my earlier work, and iconoclastic things. My approach to the form (and I appreciate the word form, not medium) is in fact quite eclectic—I'm more of a formalist than an intuitive draftsman; in fact I don't see myself as a great illustrator.

Where do you see your work fitting into the tradition of socio-political satire? Do you see controversy as a productive force?

AK: I’m certainly not a mainstream satirist, and I don’t think I would do well as a newspaper cartoonist, for instance. I need the freedom of editing and even publishing work myself—this is in fact why exhibiting in galleries suits me. Also, I think that there’s not enough satirical material appearing on African issues. My specific interests (at the moment) are black/white relationships, political correctness, affirmative action (interestingly called “positive discrimination” in French)—issues that have been topical in South Africa since the first democratic elections. Controversy is good to kick-start debate, often in the media; this I regard as productive.

How do your personal experiences and opinions factor into your work?

AK: I did a lot of autobiographical work when I was younger, did a lot of cathartic comic drawing. Those experiences and opinions are still relevant to my work, but I have become less autobiographical. In fact, I’m very interested in more ambiguous storytelling (I used to be quite pedantic sometimes!), like Rutu Modan’s Exit Wounds.

In your Alphabet of Democracy series, you target specific aspects of South African society, and yet the works carry a much broader significance in terms of prejudices, injustices, and social issues occurring across the world. How do you select which issues to tackle? Who are your intended audiences? How have these works been received in South Africa versus the U.S. and other places?

AK: I think it’s initially important to work from close personal experience; those issues and references are more authentic than trying to create some sort of general “international” message. Since democracy started in South Africa (1994) there has also been a lot of international focus on the art scene and we certainly benefitted from that. I have also had the opportunity to work and live in Europe for a while, and that certainly broadened my perspective; when I was young I thought only white people in South Africa were racists—then I encountered racist sentiments in Germany, Holland, Belgium, England and France…. The Alphabet series has been received extremely well in both South Africa and the U.S. Obviously the series was edited for the New York exhibition—some references were very specific and some even in Afrikaans, which an international audience simply would not understand. There are at least two different sets of the series; fortunately both were acquired by two different collectors (one South African, one Canadian), which means the series will stay intact.

There’s a tension in your work between the simplified cartoon style and the complex, difficult subject matter. How did you come to appropriate, pay homage to, and critique the style of Hergé’s comics and their title character Tintin? What does this character represent to you?

AK: I grew up with Tintin and he was often my only means of escape (especially during my pre-pubescent years—definitely the most difficult years of my life to date). In order to return to that stage of my life in comics it just seemed natural to appropriate the Tintin style—the clarity (clear-line simplicity), but often with deep shadows and frightening content. One can also enjoy Tintin on many levels; from an artistic point of view I regard Tintin as some kind of standard, almost like a bible.

In stark contrast to the realms of media and politics, which tend to skirt these issues, you face them head-on. What spurred you to be so brave and direct in your voice?

AK: I guess one could call it brave, but it’s really just a way of working. The only work that I find compelling is work that deeply affects the reader/viewer. If people find my work lukewarm I have failed miserably. But I also think that certain issues are more debated in the South African media (and politics) than in the U.S. media—I think, for instance, that white liberal academics in the States are very afraid to offend, to such an extent that (I remember I read this in Bill Berkeley’s The Graves Are Not Yet Full) a black Liberian academic said he wished Americans could just call a spade a spade. In South Africa it’s a daily reality: issues regarding racism (for instance) are endlessly debated on TV and radio. But there is also a very strong sense of political correctness and guilt among white academia in South Africa, make no mistake.

What do you hope your reader will gain from experiencing the piece you made for this series? Do you see your comics as calls to action, or catalysts for change? Or is it more about bringing oft-suppressed or hidden issues into the light?

AK: I think the piece is investigative, and maybe because of the limited space there is no “editorial” opinion or comment. But I quite like that—it makes it more ambiguous. I think the piece could be all of the things you suggest. Because I source my material from newspapers, I still notice underlying racist trends—the white man who is gang-raped is called “Mr.”, whereas the black man in the first story has no “Mr.” before his name. In reporting (in South Africa) you are not allowed to reveal a person’s race, but normally you can figure it out, even if no name is revealed.

Why do you choose to work under a pseudonym, and how did you select Joe Dog?

AK: I started out with the name Joe Dog right in the beginning when I drew my first comic. The idea was to sound similar to some of my punk heroes like Johnny Rotten, Sid Vicious, or Jello Biafra. Also, my father is a fairly well known South African author, and I didn’t want to be known as “the son of J.C. Kannemeyer.” And finally it was quite interesting how quickly the name stuck once people started reading our comics in South Africa. They remembered two things: Bitterkomix and Joe Dog—not really caring who the hell I am—which is more or less how it should be. But my gallerists in South Africa always insisted on me using my “real” name, so I have this dual persona, which is actually silly.

What was your impetus for founding Bitterkomix and how has it evolved over the last 16 years?

AK: This is quite a big question, I’ll answer some of it: I started Bitterkomix with Conrad Botes—we studied together at the University of Stellenbosch near Cape Town. We both had an Afrikaans background, and both pretty much rejected most of the Afrikaner ideology. We were “bitter” and hell-bent on hitting back, fighting against the army, the schools, our parents and religion. After the initial two copies of Bitterkomix, we started getting other artists on board, which means it created a good energy for producing work. We also worked closely with some local alternative rock bands—we did a lot of posters for them at one stage.

What are the issues facing us today that you’re most interested in, concerned about, or motivated by as an artist? What should we be paying attention to?

AK: I think that big corporations and corrupt governments are mainly responsible for the current state of Africa—there is often very little transparency when oil and other minerals are extracted from Africa. Corruption is rife and this needs to be exposed and challenged on all levels. But I think when addressing these issues (as a satirist) it’s important to do what good satirists do: to entertain critically. As soon as you get on a moral high horse everyone is bored to death. It’s a challenge to sustain comedy sometimes—like when people’s hands are chopped off: it’s not really funny, no matter which way you look at it.