q. i. f.?

Archive
red

Been watching comic art demos on YouTube again lately, and it’s led, as it evidently must, to another late-night superhero drawing. In this instance I wanted to draw a little something without being quite as careless about it as I’ve tended to be with these things, and started leafing through my ancient (though only purchased last year) copy of the famous How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way. Stopped at this page; I’ve had occasion to re-watch Captain America 1 & 2 recently. Told myself it would just be a head and shoulders, but drew the whole figure. Fit on the page suggests that I knew better where this was headed in the back of my mind than in the fore. At any rate, it seems like Cap came out of it alright, on the whole. If he’s embarrassed to be outfitted satisfactorily neither in the classic nor the contemporary manner, he doesn’t show it. Standing tall — it’s what we require of him, I guess.
 
 
captain_america2

Without thinking about what I was doing, I ‘liked’ a friend’s propagating-profile-change Facebook post last week, consenting thereby to replace my usual image with one of a comic book character of his choosing. The character he assigned me was the Punisher. Well, I’ve been much preoccupied with work &c., and was under the weather besides, and I never got around to the switch. I did find occasion to break (yet) a(nother) long drawing fast the other night with a little 3 x 5 card Frank Castle before bed, though.
frank_castle

Frank is at ease here (for the artist’s sake), sans gear, a bit deadpan — letting his chest insignia do the communicating, it seems, if any needs doing. Interesting to note that he bears a slight resemblance to the actor who’ll be appearing as him on Netflix’s Daredevil in the 2016 season. I didn’t know the character was coming to the show until after I did this; it was the sketch that led me to some googling and the discovery.

wait, there’s more.

One of the thoughts about comics & cartooning knocking around in my head for a while is that the way comics works has something in common with puppetry. I’m not thinking of Jim Henson-style puppetry or the complex animatronic creature-machines that CGI hasn’t quite yet (as far as I know) made obsolescent in the movies. It’s carved or molded puppets that I have in mind, and the kind of performance they make possible or likely — performance not very concerned with an illusion of lifelike action, but built of routines, with a catalogue of stock elements both verbal and visual. I don’t mean to suggest any particular historical connection to puppetry in the emergence of comic books. (Maybe there is, who knows. I imagine it would be a hard thing to demonstrate, if so.) All I’m thinking about here is the way things work, basically, in the comics.

wait, there’s more.

Haven’t drawn anything in months, and I’ve been itching to. Itching worse, this week, because I started playing YouTube comic con sketch demos on the tablet next to me while working at my desk. I should have resisted, because there’s really no time, but finally I dug the sketchbook out of a box. I just wanted to do a little Superman head, something along the lines of these. It started off badly, though, as it was bound to, and I kept playing with it for a long while — contrary to plan in every way.

wait, there’s more.

It’s not exactly news now, of course, but I’ve only learned with release of the first issue today that there’s a new H.B. series. (Being drawn by a first-rate artist, too.) This series is noteworthy particularly in that it seems set to pick up with story material never thoroughly developed in the twenty years these characters have been in print, presenting H.B. once again as American superhero fighting monsters, now in the middle rather than at the end of the twentieth century. How about that? I can’t help taking it as a little bit of a challenge to find the thread of my occasional thoughts on the subject and return to them. It’s going to be some months before I read any of this new stuff, probably, since I don’t buy until issues (in digital form) go on sale. But I’m basically interested in what Mignola’s raised or suggested with what he’s already done, anyhow, more than in what he’s going to do next. There’s plenty to talk about as it is, without new material. This new material definitely is a nice prod to get back to it, though, if I can find the time.

Mignola’s graphic style in the H.B. and BPRD books evolves quite a bit in the titles’ first few years. That’s a common enough observation, and nothing specially to do with Mignola as an artist or a writer, for that matter. (Take, e.g., my cartooning idol Richard Thompson: the way he drew Cul de Sac — already at the height of his career as a cartoonist and illustrator, his style well established — underwent a similar period of refinement and simplification after it began in the Post Sunday magazine, and then again after he took it to syndication as a daily.) I’m interested in talking more, sometime, about the evolution of Mignola’s graphic approach in relation to his evolving approach to the stories, but for the moment, let’s just look at an isolated aspect or two of the change, in very brief terms.

wait, there’s more.

The last two posts here cracked open the door, just a bit, to some discussion of visual stereotyping and race. I didn’t have any definite plan to open that door further, but it’s interesting stuff, to say the least, and a good way to go for a wider historical field on the subject of graphics and human figure. So let’s just push it open and encounter the dangers within as we may.

wait, there’s more.

I’ve been reading Grant Morrison’s gushy-trippy memoirish, Supergods, lately — since about a week after learning of it by way of this post in Darrell’s series meandering among the pagans, currently in progress. (Go take a look.) I mention in a comment there that I hadn’t heard of the book. Actually, I had no idea who Morrison was before reading that post. That tells you something about extent of my appreciation of comic book culture.

wait, there’s more.

Over a few recent days I’ve been listening to an interview with Jack Kirby, done in L.A. in 1990, posted on YouTube by the Jack Kirby Museum. He’s 72, and he rambles and loses track of the questions, and you get the feeling the show hosts don’t quite know what to do with him. But he’s fun to listen to, on the whole. A theme he seems to like returning to is the idea that storytelling runs in his family. I can’t help thinking that he was probably always the rambly, discursive, storytelling type of conversationalist. Maybe the guy we’re hearing on tape is someone really not far removed from the guy who started out in Superman and Batman knockoffs during the Depression, fifty-odd years earlier.

wait, there’s more.

PBS has a three-part series on the American comic-book superhero running now — from Siegel & Shuster to the recent summer blockbusters. I watched (minus dozing) tonight while doing some bookkeeping. If you get your comics history largely from Wikipedia and YouTube, like me, you’d say it feels sketchy. At times, seems not much more than a long commercial for the Marvel and DC media shops. It may be the work of a Ken Burns alumnus, but it’s some way from doing what Ken Burns does for Americana.

wait, there’s more.

Social media & sharing icons powered by UltimatelySocial