Author: gasp65

Ross Andru, ‘Super Comics’ Cover Man

gasp655 Comments

« It’s easy, from our 21st-century perspective, to condemn Waldman as nothing but a sleazy bottom-feeder eking out a precarious living by pirating the marginal dregs of an industry he was only peripherally a part of. » — Don Markstein

As some of you may have surmised from the title, this is a sequel to John Severin, ‘Super Comics’ Cover Man. Since I laid out the facts of the case in that previous entry, I refer you to it as an entrée en matière, an amuse-gueule.

It’s been suggested to me several times that I should devote some column space to Rostislav “Ross Andru” Androuchkevitch (though my co-admin ds certainly has, by dint of the man’s long stint on Bob Kanigher’s regressive Wonder Woman), but the trouble is, unlike the many of my generation who, presumably more through circumstance than discernment, imprinted on Andru and Gerry Conway*‘s The Amazing Spider-Man (1973-76), I had already lost all interest in Spidey after Steve Ditko‘s rightly acrimonious 1966 departure; I just wasn’t buying what they were selling.

My own, somewhat less agreeable run-in with Andru was through his ill-advised residency as DC’s principal cover artist (under “art director” Vinnie Colletta) paired up with Dick Giordano**, who reportedly slapped inks, and likely some coffee, on a few covers each day before catching his train to work.

However, as I always say, with a career that lengthy and prolific, there’s bound to be exceptions. Which brings me to a comment a dear friend and old comrade in ink-slinging made — just this week! — regarding an Andru cover I featured during last month’s Hallowee’n Countdown:

« Mmmm… that Ross Andru cover. Such a delightful classic! Who knew he was so good back then compared to his later work, which was pretty damn awful. »

So, like John Severin, Andru (with inking partner, for better — though mostly for worse — Mike Esposito in tow) was approached by Israel Waldman to gussy up his shoddy, oft-illegal reprints.

Redoubtable comics historian Don Markstein (1947-2012) did a breathtaking job of compiling a dossier of the whole I.W./Super Comics operation, complete with the cross-referencing of most — if not all — the ‘borrowed’ properties and personages. Essential reading if you’re at all intrigued by crafty reprobates of Waldman’s ilk.

This is Doll Man no. 11 (1963, Super Comics). Read it here!
This is Strange Mysteries no. 11 (1963, Super Comics). Read it here! The 60s Marvel colouring gimmick of leaving the background grey to make the foreground figures stand out (not to mention spare much time and effort) leads me to think that resident Marvel hues-man Stan Goldberg (no Rube he) may have been moonlighting for Izzy Waldman.
This is Danger no. 12 (1963, Super Comics). Read it here!

Mr. Markstein on The Black Dwarf: « The first question, of any character, is — why? Putting on a bizarre outfit to battle crime on an unpaid, freelance, anonymous basis seems pretty strenuous, requiring strong motivation. But his isn’t much. He just hates crime, no particular reason cited.

Next, what’s with the name? He was shorter than average, but not so short he qualified as a Little Person. Santa Claus would reject him on sight. And would identifying himself as a dwarf instill fear in criminals, confer fighting prowess on himself, or in any other way be an asset in his war on evildoers? It just sends a message that he’s small, so the evildoers can probably beat him up. At least he made up for his shortcomings by packing a gun. »

This is Mystery Tales no. 16 (1964, Super Comics). Read it here!
This is Strange Planets no. 16 (1964, Super Comics). Read it here!
This is Danger no. 16 (1964, Super Comics). Read it here! I was tempted to quip that it takes tremendous chutzpah to hire the then-current Wonder Woman artist to illustrate a cover featuring one of her numerous knock-offs… but I’m pretty sure Waldman, hardly a comics insider, didn’t know and didn’t care.

Of this particular breed of characters, Markstein wrote: « Superheroes first turned up in American comic books just before World War II, and flourished during the early war years. Especially flourishing were a sub-species of superhero that wrapped themselves in the U.S. flag like a cheap politician. Inexplicably, these are referred to as “patriotic” heroes, indicating that wearing the flag like Captain Freedom or Miss Victory was deemed a mark of patriotism higher and more… »

This is Fantastic Adventures no. 16 (1964, Super Comics). Read it here!
This is Strange Mysteries no. 17 (1964, Super Comics). Read it here!
This is Daring Adventures no. 17 (1964, Super Comics). Read it here! « May I have this dance, Green Lama? » « Why, I thought you’d never ask, Falstaff! »
This is Police Trap no. 18 (1964, Super Comics). Read it here! In my opinion, this is one of the best-composed of Andru’s Super/I.W. covers: very nice sense of depth, though the effect would play out far better without the quite superfluous ‘We proudly present...’ blurb, which breaks the visual flow.
I think the guy on the left is a bit ticklish. This is Plastic Man no. 18 (1964, Super Comics). This is actually a pretty spiffy issue, featuring classic work by masters Jack Cole and Will Eisner. Read it here! DC, who owned the character — having bought it from its original publisher, Quality, when it left the field (along with Doll Man, Phantom Lady, Blackhawk…) — would resurrect Plas in 1966. That didn’t click. It wasn’t until the Steve Skeates / Ramona Fradon revival of 1976-77 that someone managed to grasp the appeal of Jack Cole’s unique creation. But again, sales were low. In 1980, Andru would again depict Plastic Man on Adventure Comics covers spotlighting Jean-Claude “Martin Pasko” Rocheford and Joe Staton‘s unfunny, misguided and mercifully brief run. And hey, if you’d always longed to see Andru’s version of Eisner’s The Spirit, this is all you get!

-RG

*Harlan Ellison on Conway, circa 1979: « I mean, the first time I met Gerry Conway, who the hell would’ve known that Gerry Conway would single-handedly ruin the entire comics industry. He’s a classic example of the deification of no-talent in all industries. He’s not good, but he has it in on Thursday. And that’s all they care about. You know, fill them pages. » [ source ]

**taking over from Mike Esposito and actually making him look good in comparison!

Local Hero: Boston’s Francis W. Dahl

gasp656 Comments

« I’m going to Boston to see my doctor. He’s a very sick man. » — Fred Allen

My turn to spotlight a recent find: last month, during a fruitful visit to Ellsworth, ME’s The Big Chicken Barn, I spotted — among others — an item of interest in the humour section: a hardcover volume entitled Dahl’s Brave New World, published 1947. Spare but effective cartooning, plenty of imagination and wit. See what you make of it.

Replace ‘miniature plane’ with ‘drone’ and you’ve got a cartoon for these here times.

While the ordinary citizen has been waiting for his long-promised, personal jet pack for decades on end, a ready-to-wear helicopter would be, it seems to me, a reasonable substitute.

I love knowing that there’s a world of talented folk I’d never gotten wind of. Even if a lifetime is too short, even if I’ll miss out on some great art, both capital A and lower-case, I prefer to hold the optimistic view and raise the half-full glass in a heartfelt toast.

By way of biography, Mr. Dahl (1907-1973) thankfully rated an obit in the New York Times on May 7, 1973. Allow me to quote liberally from it:

« Francis W. Dahl, Boston’s best‐known cartoonist, whose works have appeared in newspapers here for 45 years as well as in a series of books, died today at his home in Newton. He was 65 years old.

Mr. Dahl’s cartoons focused on Bostonians and their politics, customs, costumes and foibles, with most of his subjects growing out of local news items.

From 1928, when he began his newspaper career as an $20‐a‐week illustrator, until last June, Mr. Dahl drew his cartoons for The Boston Herald and its successor, The Herald Traveler. When the paper was purchased by The Record‐American last June, he joined The Boston Globe.

Collections of the cartoons also appeared in a number of books, including “Left Handed Compliments,” “Dahl’s Cartoons,” “What, More Dahl?” “Birds, Beasts and Bostonians,” “Dahl’s Boston” and “Dahl’s Brave New World.”

Stories about Mr. Dahl have become part of Boston’s journalistic legends. Once, for example, a Herald engravers’ plate broke just before deadline and 144,000 copies were printed without his cartoon. A printed box asked readers if he was missed, and 4,000 letters were sent to the editor saying yes.

On another occasion, Mr. Dahl broke his right arm — his drawing arm — but rather than miss a day the paper had him draw left‐handed for six weeks. »

While the NYT piece itself draws heavily from a 1946 Time Magazine profile of Dahl, it left out the juiciest part of the anecdote: « Since draftsmanship is the least of Dahl’s assets, the switchover didn’t show much. »

It’s refreshing to see — especially in light of the era it was produced in — the lady take the amorous initiative.

I couldn’t pass this one up: I mean… mushrooms, bats, moles and skinks!

And here’s some insight into Dahl’s relative obscurity: « Because he concocts his cartoons out of local news items, and refuses to change his ways, mild-mannered Francis Dahl has never been syndicated. But for his collections of reprints, he would be unknown outside New England. » [ source ]

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VII, Day 31

gasp651 Comment

« … but the rain is full of ghosts tonight » — Edna St. Vincent Millay*

Well, I made it through another countdown. Thanks for your interest and support!

In the proper spirit of the thing, I’ve indulged and reserved my very favourite Hallowe’en treat for last, and that’s a Joe Gill–Steve Ditko chiller — for the second consecutive year!

I’ve always adored this one for its adroit juggling of hushed atmosphere and giggles, its casually dropped hints and layered subtlety. Ditko really had no peer when it came to insinuating his narrator into the visual tapestry. In this case, his first and finest host, Mr. L. Dedd (or I. M. Dedd, depending on the source). Ditko is clearly having a ball.

Unless I’m mistaken, Steve Ditko always inked himself (and sometimes gloriously inked Kirby) until 1964, when George Roussos as ‘George Bell‘ (seemingly using the wrong end of the brush, sorry) inked Ditko’s pencils on a trio of early Doctor Strange episodes (Strange Tales nos. 123-125, if you must know).

Even while working at Marvel, Ditko (wisely) kept working for Charlton. At his busiest, he was assigned an inker on a revival of Captain Atom, Rocco ‘Rocke’ Mastroserio, and the combination bore splendid fruit. Ditko was one of those cartoonists who laid down the basics in the pencils, then had most of his fun in fleshing them out in ink. Finishing Ditko’s layouts wasn’t a task just any Joe could handle, as the ensuing years would bear out.

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

This is Ghostly Tales no. 60 (March 1967, Charlton), cover art by Rocco Mastroserio; edited by Pat Masulli.

And so we’re done, countdown-wise, for another year. If that’s not quite sufficient to slake your loathsome lust, promenade yourself through our bloated-by-now archives, at this point two hundred and seventeen posts strong :

Hallowe’en Countdown VII

Hallowe’en Countdown VI

Hallowe’en Countdown V

Hallowe’en Countdown IV

Hallowe’en Countdown III

Hallowe’en Countdown II

Hallowe’en Countdown I

Wishing you all a hair-raising Hallowe’en — thanks for all the creepy loitering!

-RG

*did I imagine that someone (David Mamet?) once said that her name sounded like ‘a bowling ball tumbling down the stairs’? It may have been meant as a compliment.

Hallowe’en Countdown VII, Day 30

gasp65Leave a comment

« Addams’ idea of a bracing day’s outing is to visit an insane asylum. He takes a kind and friendly interest in the inmates and will chat with them unselfconsciously by the hour. “They have a refreshing conversational approach,” he says. » — John Kobler

For this, the penultimate entry in this year’s Hallowe’en, I’ve reached for one of the most prized items in my collection: a book I apparently picked up for 10 dollars in the 1990s… it’s a bit hazy. It was originally given to (or by) one ‘Sadleir’ on December 25, 1950.

Coming upon the tome while browsing the general humour section, I vaguely recall being intrigued by its title, ‘Afternoon in the Attic’, and upon realising that it was illustrated by Charles Addams, the deal was sealed.

Suffice it to say that it’s also a brilliant piece of writing, a series of essays on unusual topics: the niceties of duelling, Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum, Astrologers, Paris’ Théâtre du Grand Guignol (1896-1962), Winston Churchill among the Apes, Psychic mediums, a bartending school, a family of human cannonballs, a tour of haunted New York State, and a chess-playing automaton.

Since most of you won’t make it past the paywall, here’s part of the author’s New York Times obituary:

« John Kobler, a writer whose early days on the crime beat resounded in an enduring biography of Al Capone, died on Monday in Manhattan. He was 90.

He was born in Mount Vernon, N.Y., and was a 1931 graduate of Williams College. He worked for various news organizations as a reporter before editing the crime reportage of PM, a 1940’s New York tabloid.

In World War II he was a civilian intelligence officer posted to North Africa, Italy and France, where he was attached to the United States Embassy. He returned to freelance for The New Yorker, Colliers, Vanity Fair and The Saturday Evening Post. His first book, published in 1938, was ”The Trial of Ruth Snyder and Judd Gray.’‘ It interwove trial testimony with commentary about a notorious 1927 murder case. ”Some Like It Gory” (1940) and ”Afternoon in the Attic” (1950) were collected essays about bizarre crimes and creepy characters. ”Afternoon’‘ was illustrated by Charles Addams.

He was best known for ”Capone: The Life and World of Al Capone,” a biography published in 1971 and reissued most recently in 1992 by Da Capo Press. It remains in print, as does ”Ardent Spirits: The Rise and Fall of Prohibition” (Da Capo, 1993).

He also wrote biographies about Henry Luce (1968), John Barrymore (1977) and Otto Kahn (1989), the banker and arts patron. His favorite among them was ”The Reluctant Surgeon: A Biography of John Hunter’‘ (1960), the 18th-century Scottish anatomist and precursor of modern surgery (1960). » [ source ]

My copy had already shed its dust jacket by the time it came into my possession, but the cover image was also used as a frontispiece.
While Kobler provides what’s likely the definitive biographical essay on Charles Addams (at 10 1/2 pages), Addams, in return, gives us this picture presumably worth the proverbial thousand words.

For this post, I’ll stick to a single essay, the one entitled « Next Week: Murder in a Madhouse ».

The introductory illustration…
« Satisfied customers », quips the caption.

« The seats in front of me were occupied by an American family — father, mother, two girls and a small boy. “I just can’t bear it,” mother was saying, “I just won’t look.” The girls were chewing their programs which bore the Grand Gignol trade mark – a bat with a man’s head. The small boy, who I felt sure was a connoisseur of American comics, sat unruffled and superior. “Kid stuff,” he snarled. “Quiet!” said father, who seemed uncertain what his proper attitude ought to be. “The curtain’s going up.”

The climax bursts with all the restraint of a fire alarm. While Hunchback and Normandy Woman pinion Louise’s arms, One-Eye goes after the cuckoo bird with a knitting needle. Blood splashes all over everybody. (“Heavens!” mother gasped, forgetting not to look.) Louise’s screams shiver the scenery.

But a super climax is yet to come. Hunchback and Normandy Woman, suddenly fearful of what they have done, turn on One-Eye and force her face down upon a hot stove where it sizzles in a jet of smoke and flame like a barbecued mutton chop…

That was enough for father. He herded his family through the exit amid the shrill protests of the small boy who did not want to miss the rest of the program. What he missed included a maniac who disembowels small boys, a woman who gets shot in the head by a gangster and, sandwiched between for comic relief, a bedroom farce with lines never intended for little pitchers to hear, all of it staged with determined realism. »

« Curtain call at Le Grand Guignol. »

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VII, Day 29

gasp65Leave a comment

« Life is like a maze in which you try to avoid the exit. » — Roger von Oech

Some time in the late 1980s, a friend handed me a book, challenging me — I guess — to “see if I could work out the solution.”

He had, however, misread me: altogether lacking that flavour of ambition, I wasn’t in the slightest interested in solving the riddle. Instead, I was quite content to wallow in the uncanny ambiance and enjoy the stunningly wrought textual clues.

This is Maze (1985, Holt, Rinehart and Winston), written and illustrated by Christopher Manson; Amy Hill, designer.

« This is not really a book. This is a building in the shape of a book… a maze. Each numbered page depicts a room in the Maze. The doors in each room lead to other rooms. For example, the room on page 1 has doors leading to rooms 20, 26, 41, and 21. To go through door number 20, simply turn to page 20. Your challenge is to find your way from room 1 to room 45 and then back to room 1 using the shortest possible path. If you use your head, you should be able to make the journey in only sixteen steps. »

« … a gloomy, cavelike place far underground. Even I was oppressed by the weight that hung over our heads. A very small hole, high above, admitted a feeble light. »
« … what appeared to be an old storeroom. Dust obscured a damaged painting, making it hard to understand just what the artist had intended. »
« … one of the biggest rooms in the House. All three doorways were dark. “Afraid to go out?” I asked. »
« … a much warmer room. Shadows danced across the floor to the fire’s music. »
« … a dramatic room with four entrances and exits. “Not enough light in here,” they remarked. “Not very tidy either.” »
« … a darkened chamber dominated by a large figure. We could see that someone had been working here recently; the entrance I had so carefully hidden had been uncovered. I made a note to return as soon as I could and fill in the hole again. »
« … a melancholy little courtyard surrounded by a brick wall too high to see over. A dead tree lifted its bone-white branches to a sky filling with gray clouds. »
« … what appeared to be someone’s basement. One of them sank gratefully down on an old couch which promptly collapsed. »
« … the foundations of the Maze. Deep underground stones had been carved and fitted; passage opened in the natural rock. »

Nearly four decades after its publication, Maze’s mystique endures. And interest resolutely lingers, which I salute. Apparently, Maze belongs to a genre termed ‘ergodic fiction‘.

Should you wish to try your hand at the task, the entire book’s available to peruse here.

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VII, Day 28

gasp656 Comments

« If anything, I consider myself non-violent. I’m from the hippy era, peace, love, groovy. » — Rick James

1968 wasn’t exactly a banner year for Harry Shorten and Wally Wood‘s Tower Comics (1965-69); Wood’s flagship title, T.H.U.N.D.E.R. Agents, was down to running a mixture of reprints and inventory, and a mere two issues were cover-dated 1968. A final number, the 20th, limped onto newsstands a full year after its predecessor.

So it’s understandable that Wood started casting around for plan B. He gave Archie a try. It didn’t take… surely his fellow Tower editor and Archie refugee Samm Schwartz must have tried to warn him. Oh well.

« Our Monster Is Hip. Oh, Where Did We Slip? », most likely scripted by Archie mainstay George Gladir (1925-2013), appeared in Archie’s Madhouse no. 64 (Oct. 1968).

As far as I know, this was the only story Wood drew for Archie Comics, at least in their usual humorous mode. In the ’70’s, he would provide finishes over Jack Abel‘s pencils on one story (« Devil Rider », Red Circle Sorcery no. 10, Dec. 1974) for the interesting but short-lived, Gray Morrow-directed Red Circle Comics Group, a more ‘mature’ Archie offshoot… and that’s it.

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VII, Day 27

gasp6510 Comments

« I’d rather have my stuff in pulp magazines where people can see it than in a museum where they don’t. » — Lee Brown Coye

Despite the passing of nearly a century, a lot of Weird Tales (“The Unique Magazine”) illustrators are somewhat well-remembered today: Virgil Finlay for his stunning, eyesight-ruining pointillist technique, Margaret Brundage for the cheesecake, Hannes Bok — more pointillism – for his graphic invention…

My own favourites are inarguably the true-blue weirdos in the deck, Matt Fox and Lee Brown Coye (who, at five foot ten and 136 pounds when the Army deemed him unfit for service, kiddingly referred to himself as ‘Lean Brown Cow’); while Fox created a fine passel of WT covers, that frankly wasn’t Coye’s forte, though he did produce his share. In truth, the starkness of black and white was his element.

Now, I could go on quite a bit about Mr. Coye, but as I always do in such cases, I’ll sharpen my focus. So focus I shall: on Weirdisms, a semi-regular feature LBC enjoyed in the pulpy pages of Weird Tales for a couple of years, circa the late 1940s — a precursor, if you will, to Warren’s Creepy’s Loathsome Lore a couple of decades later.

Such a striking composition! This is “Witch-finder”, from the November, 1949 Weird Tales.
“Witchcraft”, from Weird Tales’ issue of September, 1948. Written by E. Crosby Michel.
“Witch-finder Matthew Hopkins”, from the March, 1950 Weird Tales. If Vincent Price is a bit too arch and camp for your taste, check him out in Michael Reeves‘ brutal Witchfinder General (1968).
“Imp” appeared in the January, 1949 issue of Weird Tales.
“Medicine Men”, from Weird Tales’ March, 1949 edition. I’d surmise it unlikely for a platypus to wind up as a wizard’s pet… but it certainly works thematically.
“Sabbat witches”, written by E. Crosby Michel, saw print in the May, 1948 Weird Tales.
“Vampires”, from the July, 1947 issue of Weird Tales. Written by E. Crosby Michel.
“Witches”, written by E. Crosby Michel, from Weird Tales’ January, 1948 issue.
“Wizards and Witches”, from Weird Tales’ March, 1949 issue. I wonder whether their pet boar helps them locate and dig up delicious truffles.

Incidentally, I recommend to the interested Luis Ortiz’s fine Arts Unknown: the Life and Art of Lee Brown Coye (Nonstop Press, NY, 2005), as well as Pulp Macabre: The Art of Lee Brown Coye’s Final and Darkest Era (2015, Sacred Bones). Oh, and Matt Fox is finally getting his own deluxe monograph, which I preordered ages ago and is about to emerge, The Chillingly Weird Art of Matt Fox (2023, TwoMorrows); here’s a preview. I trust Rascally Roy Thomas won’t be ordering a copy.

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VII, Day 26

gasp653 Comments

« It is the job of thinking people not to be on the side of the executioners. » — Albert Camus

Another day, another executioner… funny how these patterns emerge unbidden.

Jerry Grandenetti, with his tenebrous depths and oppressive angles, is another artist I’ve always strongly associated with Autumn and Hallowe’en. While the greater part of his work at DC Comics was war fare for Bob Kanigher, my heart pounds for his spooky work for editor Murray Boltinoff‘s 70’s stable of titles (The Witching Hour, Ghosts, and The Unexpected).

This particular tale marks a rare foray outside of the well-trod paths of formula and so-called ‘O. Henry’, or twist endings. Writer Bill Dehenny (an alias of editor Boltinoff’s, actually) ushers in midlife doldrums and attendant shades of moral grey, an unusually open, downright existential ending, elements scarcely encountered in DC ‘mystery’ comics of the era. Hell, there’s even a bird named Engelbert!

End of an Executioner was published in The Witching Hour no. 26 (Dec. 1972, DC), just after Brian Garfield’s Death Wish and well before Michael Winner’s film adaptation/distortion.

What’ll he do? Will he go the Bronson /Neeson vigilante route — or turn his back on the old family tradition?

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VII, Day 25

gasp65Leave a comment

« Je suis American / Please cook my steak again. » — Ben Folds

Serge de Bechetch (1946-2007) and Jean-Marc « Loro » Laureau (1943-1998)’s Déboires d’Outre-tombe was an off-and-on (1969-75) series of short pieces parodying horror movie tropes. It took its (clever!) title from diplomat-author François-René de Chateaubriand (1768-1848)’s Mémoires d’Outre-Tombe (« Memoirs From Beyond the Grave »); “Déboires” signifies ‘a run of bad luck’ or, originally, ‘an unpleasant aftertaste’ from drinking wine. Nowadays, Chateaubriand is mostly associated with his chef’s favourite steak recipe.

To be honest, while Loro’s artwork was often inspired, Déboires’ gags mostly fell flat; I presume that the creators had no idea how hoary these monster jokes had become, not having been exposed to the likes of Famous Monsters of Filmland, Topps’ ‘You’ll Die Laughing‘ card set, Mad, Cracked, Sick… and all the glut of parody mags. However, Loro was for a time — and right from the start — editor of the French edition of Warren’s Creepy, which was, imho, superior to the original thanks to better printing and, most significantly, its brand-new, first-rate documentary material created by Midi Minuit Fantastique alumni, replacing Warren’s cool, but repetitive in-house Captain Company adverts.

Here are the strips I consider standouts. Just a few years on, Loro would attain his peak with the early cases of gumshoe Abel Dopeulapeul, whom we’ve featured a few years back. Contrast and compare!

Volume one of Déboires d’outre-tombe (1981, Éditions du Cygne).
Volume two of Déboires d’outre-tombe (1982, Éditions du Cygne).
« You can tell a good workman by his tools!!! »
Loro was clearly catching a lot of Hammer films of the era.
The plot, in a nutshell: Bertille constantly henpecks her husband because of his general rakishness and lack of gainful employment. Oh, but he’s found a job, he claims. Just then, she’s anonymously denounced as a witch. « I told you, Bertille. You see… I’ve found some work. »
« So, what have you done today as a bad action? »
« I took the orphans from the youth club to the beach for a swim… »
« And what’s so evil about that? » « The sharks… »

-RG

Hallowe’en Countdown VII, Day 23

gasp652 Comments

« I didn’t say she was dead, I said I killed her. » — Barnabas Collins

… and speaking of that tormented bloodsucker, Mr. Barnabas Collins — mentioned in passing just yesterday — here’s a look at the short-lived (fifty-two contracted-for weeks, just like Daniel Pinkwater and Tony Auth’s Norb) syndicated strip that appeared at the tail end of Dan Curtis‘ preeminent supernatural soap opera‘s run (1966-71). The strip was likely scripted — at least in part — by Little Abner creator Al Capp‘s prolific brother Elliot Caplin (who also had a hand in the creation of Russell Myers’ Broom Hilda around the same time!)

Dark Shadows, the comic strip, was illustrated by veteran cartoonist Kenneth Bald (1920-2019), who’d worked for Fawcett, ACG and Atlas before judiciously decamping to the more rewarding and respectable milieu of syndicated newspaper strips, first with Judd Saxon (1957-1963) and then with Doctor Kildare (1962-1984).

The March 28, 1971 strip. While I’m not inclined towards photo-aided realism in comics, Bald was such a master of the mise-en-scène — that is to say layout and pacing, that he rarely failed to draw me in, as opposed to, say, more acclaimed photo reference addicts such as Al Williamson or Gray Morrow.
April 25, 1971.
June 6, 1971.
July 11, 1971.
August 29, 1971.

December 12, 1971. Richard Howell explains: « The Dark Shadows strip also invoked a very unusual use of coloring techniques (for the Sunday instalment), which eschewed a realistic look in favor of underscoring the strip’s mood (including a meaningful experimentation with color knock-outs done in harmonious gradations in the same color families). The first two Sundays were colored by Bald himself, who gave it up due to dissatisfaction after seeing the printed versions, and the extensive amount of time it took him to achieve the color effects he wanted. »

Here’s a trio of examples as they showed up in (news)print.

May 2, 1971.
September 26, 1971.
October 24, 1971.
In 1996, the strip was collected in more than satisfactory fashion by Pomegranate Press — colour might have been financially prohibitive — in no small part thanks to superb documentary material provided by Ken Bald and cartoonist and longtime DS fan Richard Howell. An actual fan, unlike, say, Tim Burton*.

-RG

*despite getting a free pass to see it, the abomination that was Burton and Depp’s franchise-murdering Dark Shadows (2012) made me want to scream for a refund. Or the perpetrators’ heads on spikes.