Panning the murky old print stream for the odd glimmering nugget
Promo, Tools
For as long as they’ve been around, comics have been recruited in the name of commercial (or educational) enterprise. Or just plain propaganda. Here are some… notable examples.
« If you did, you may find your letter printed in this book… If you haven’t written The Monkees yet, join the fun that’s going on inside this crazy, lovin’ book. »
In 1967, the phenomenal Jack Davis (1924-2016), as prolific and versatile as an artist can get, provided twenty-one original cartoons and the cover to this snazzy little tome issued by the Popular Library.
Dear Davy — I am one of your greatest fans. I have all the Monkees records that have been released so far. But I have one problem. I played your first record so much that it began to melt, and now it wobbles so much that I can’t play it anymore. I know it’s not your fault, but I don’t think it’s fair that I should be punished for being such a Monkee-lover. I think the record company ought to give me my money back so I can buy a new album. You could even think of it as a kind of award for loyalty or something. Please, Davy, talk to the record company and make them send me the money? Yours truly, Diana V., Charleston, SCDear Mike — You know your record ‘Gonna Buy Me a Dog’? Well, if you really want a dog, I have a three-month-old Great Dane that a friend gave me six weeks ago that I have to get rid of. He’s a little too playful. Last week he knocked over my mom’s favorite vase and my kid brother. His name is Linus, but he’s not too attached to it. Your fan, Steve R., Coral Gables, Fla.Dear Monkees — I like your group very, very much. You probably never heard of Varna. It’s a little town near Ithaca. I wrote a poem for you: I think the Rolling Stones are great, I think the Beatles are fine, On the other hand, I think the Monkees are DIVINE. Your fan, Jeannie G.Dear Monkees — My name is Wendy. I like your records. Please send me a picture of you. I forgot all your names so please put your autographs on the pictures. Sincerely, Wendy K., Butte, MTDear Davy Jones — I like your shows very much. I like all your songs too. I like all your clothes and your hair. You are very very cute. You better come to Wichita or I’ll smash you one. Lover, Carol K., WichitaDear Monkees — Please send me Davy Jones in the mail. Send it to Cindy L, Louisville, Kentucky.
In closing, I see Micky Dolenz (b. March 8, 1945) turned seventy-three… yesterday. Happy belated birthday, Corky!
« The only escape from the miseries of life are music and cats » – Albert Schweitzer
In the mid-50s, New Yorker cartoonist (and children’s book author, sculptor and Orgone Box owner) William Steig (1907-2003) was called upon to throw together some illustrations for Epic Records’ “Epic in Jazz” LP series, which featured classic 30s recordings from the likes of Johnny Hodges, Chu Berry, Count Basie, Barney Bigard and Cootie Williams. One might safely opine that the good Mr. Steig outdid himself. You be the judge.
John Cornelius “Johnny” Hodges (1906 – 1970) was a saxophone giant of the big band era, and closely associated to Duke Ellington’s band. This 1955 compilation gathers some key recordings from the mid-to-late 30s, including Rent Party Blues, Skunk Hollow Blues and Dooji Wooji.Bobby Hackett (1915-1976) was a trumpet, cornet and guitar player who performed with Benny Goodman and Glenn Miller’s bands. Among my very favourite of his recordings are some he made in the 1950s with trombonist supreme Jack Teagarden. There was tremendous musical and personal camaraderie between these two.Trumpeter Roland Bernard “Bunny” Berigan (November 2, 1908 – June 2, 1942) had, according to Al Rose, the custom of carrying « several packages of chewing gum in his pocket, not because he was addicted to the vigorous mastication of chicle. He had an even more practical use for the stuff. He’d put three or four sticks of gum in his mouth as we approached a boîte with liquor in mind. Once inside, we’d sit at the bar and order our drinks. Then he’d excuse himself, promising to come back in a moment. He would walk purposefully off, to the men’s room I assumed incorrectly. Early on I discovered that what he was doing was finding the jukebox, putting a wad of Wrigley’s Doublemint through the coin slot, then pushing the slide in to assure the device’s inoperability for at least as long as we’d be there enjoying our drinks. He’d return to the bar secure and relaxed in the knowledge that our ears wouldn’t be assaulted by bad music. »The great Rex Stewart recalls Chu: « Chu Berry was a big bear of a man and, as a matter of fact, he resembled a great big teddy bear. He was always in good humor and never had an unkind word to say about anyone. His given name was Leon Berry, his home town was Wheeling, West Virginia, and he hove onto the Harlem scene with his tenor saxophone. While he lived, he loved the life of a musician, late to bed and even later to rise. His favorite hangouts were Tillie’s Chicken Shack on Lenox Avenue and the Victoria Cafe on Seventh Avenue, where they used to serve good barbecue. Later he’d frequent the Woodside Hotel along with the fellows with Count Basie’s band when they lived there. Chu loved to talk, drink and eat, and if he could do all three while playing he was in his particular seventh heaven. »« Probably no other band has brought such fame to sidemen as the Duke Ellington band », sagely states Shirley Hoskins Collins in the liner notes of this peerless LP showcasing four of the Duke’s finest acolytes: Barney Bigard, Rex Stewart, Cootie Williams and Johnny Hodges.If I need to tell you who Count Basie and Lester Young are, you need to treat your ears to some fine vintage jazz, pronto.
These sets were reissued over the years, often with bland photo covers (oh, the infamy!), but Sony Japan has done right by the series a few years ago, reissuing it on cd while retaining the essence of its visual allure and, in most cases, adding four tracks of the same calibre and vintage to each disc.
Did I mention that Cab Calloway and Dizzy Gillespie are also in attendance? Sorry, it must have slipped my mind, what with all the excitement and bathtub gin.
« My neighbours listen to good music whether they like it or not. » – Unknown
A couple of days ago, I came upon a recent piece by the one-and-only Robert Crumb, one that’s currently up for (well-heeled) grabs through the auspices of Heritage Auctions.
Quoting Heritage’s description: « Robert Crumb and Others – ‘Spike and Mike’ Jam Mural on Canvas (2015-16). An approximately 80″ x 60″ sheet of canvas, with sketches on both sides. Chief among them is a “Draw Me” ad parody by Robert Crumb. Getting Mr. Crumb’s involvement was not easy; it took a friend lugging this oversized piece of canvas around Europe to track down the elusive artist, but the results were worthwhile. Crumb’s art measures 8″ x 11″, and is on the “unfinished” (cream-colored) side of the canvas, with several other sketches. »
It brought to mind the rich, if often sordid, history of art lessons offered in comic book ad spaces. Here’s a sampling.
The face that launched a thousand backroom businesses, and the object of Crumb’s homage/parody (1952). Note the sharp bit of self-serving credibility-boosting: « Amateurs Only! Our students not eligible. » The implication being that, naturally, their students are now all successful, seasoned pros… but you still need to tell them to butt out of the contest. The beautifully-drawn girl anticipates Jaime Hernandez‘s stripped-down style, if you ask me.Apparently a dry run (1954) for the great Joe Kubert’s School of Cartoon and Graphic Art (established in 1976, and still around); its (early) graduates include Stephen Bissette, Rick Veitch and Timothy Truman. Joe’s then-partner Norman Maurer, aside from being a fine cartoonist himself, was the son-in-law of Stooge Moe Howard, for which Maurer produced many 3 Stooges cartoons and comic books. Maurer and Kubert were also co-originators (with Leonard Maurer) of 3D Comics in 1953.Well, if you can’t draw… there’s always tracing; though even there, talent is an asset (1963.) According to Kirk Demarais‘ excellent book, Mail-Order Mysteries, this was « a rip-off. »This little ad was quite ubiquitous in 1970s comics. Was the product offered worth a damn? The mystery endures; well, that and the newly-wealthy cartoonist’s memorably frazzled expression.Roy Wilson’s book can still be found with a little digging. It certainly boasts a great cover. I’d mark this one as an honest enterprise (1973.)According to Kirk Demarais, You received « A thirty-two page booklet that teaches you, not only to draw monsters, but how to draw, period. Art history and artists’ tools and techniques are covered, along with a gruesome collection of creeps. It’s all presented with a healthy dose of encouragement for young pencil bearers. » Monsterman (aka Harry Borgman) earned himself a thumbs-up verdict from Mr. Demarais: « In a sea of shysters, Borgman is the real deal. » (1975)Mail Sack, Inc.? Still, a quarter doesn’t seem like too much of a gamble… (1971)Corner-cutting maestro and Marvel yes-man Big John B.’s art class gave the world such enduring talents as… er, Bob Hall. (1976)For some reason, this one leaves me… somewhat skeptical (1978.) Nice perspective, chump.And of course, we can’t leave out the cream of the crop (1982.)
Mr. Crumb is right, of course: the bottom line is that « You need to knuckle down and really learn how to draw! »
I must confess (good for the soul!) I’ve never actually seen a Hugo doll in the rubbery flesh (not could I afford one at the prices they command nowadays) but I’ve always loved this ad, which appeared in plenty of comic books in the year of our lord 1975.
« Snerk! Snerk! » does sound like something Peter Lorre would say, bless his black soul. Writer and illustrator unknown, regrettably. Anyone?The whole kit and kaboodle. The rest is up to you.« He’s a puppet, too! »
Our boy, pardon, man Hugo was the brainchild of polyvalent filmmaker, author, illustrator and monster maker Alan Ormsby, man of a thousand hats. That explains (nearly) everything! To give you an inkling of the man’s astounding versatility, here are a pair of illustrations from Ormsby’s wonderful Movie Monsters (Scholastic Book Services, 1975), essential reading for the creepy kid lurking within.
Brown Bag Frankenstein: « When you’ve covered the headpiece with paper towels and it’s about half dry, glue the ‘L’ brackets in place on the forehead, as shown. »« How to turn from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde before their very eyes! ».
Who's Out There? 