Ragged Claws Network

The cover of The Three Faces of Time, which I bought yesterday at a used book store in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, is uncredited, and no signature is visible, but it sure looks like the work of Jeffrey Jones, circa 1968-69, to me.

ABOVE: Jack Williamson, Seetee Shock (New York: Lancer, 1968), with cover by Jeffrey Jones.

ABOVE: Frank Belknap Long, The Three Faces of Time (New York: Tower, 1969), with cover by Jeffrey Jones.

And yes, Jones fans, I know my inclusion of the above comparison under the category of “Swipe, Homage, or Happenstance?” is a bit cheeky. But, hey, I don’t mean nothin’ by it. I’m just saying it’s the same pose, that’s all.

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UPDATE (24 July 2010):

This just in: reader Patrick Hill points out in the comments section of this post that Jones informed him ten years ago that he (Jones) swiped the pose of the main figure in Seetee Shock and The Three Faces of Time from “H₂O World,” with story by Larry Ivie and art by Al Williamson and Roy Krenkel. Here’s the ocular proof:

ABOVE: Al Williamson and Roy Krenkel (artists), first page complete, "H₂O World," Creepy #1 (1964), page 10.

ABOVE: Al Williamson and Roy Krenkel (artists), first page detail, "H₂O World," Creepy #1 (1964), page 10.

If nothing else, the above news should make Maroto fans smile.

It’s no contest: the pencil drawing is superior to the published pin-up in every way that matters.

This story from Epic Illustrated #27 (December 1984) not only is “dedicated to the memory of Roy G. Krenkel” but also includes a lovely tribute to Jeffrey Jones, whose girl sculpture — see also below — according to comic-book creator, film-maker, and friend of Al Williams, Kevin VanHook, typically sat behind Williams at his drawing board around the time the story was created. Also, in the comments section of this post, regular participant on this site, Chris A, astutely points out that Williamson based the character of Kirth on Stewart Granger (1913 – 1993), a British actor with whose work I myself am almost entirely unfamiliar. Williamson has made Kirth’s nose somwhat shorter and more rounded than Granger’s, but Granger is definitely Williamson’s model here. Enjoy!

Buscema, in answer to the question, “Who is your favourite comic artist?”:

I’ll tell you, I’m at the point where I’m not impressed with anyone anymore. I was always looking for the good draftsmanship. Later on, I become interested in the story-telling aspect of comics. I think Hal Foster is perhaps the best story-teller in comics. As was Milton Caniff. A lot of guys, like Roy Crane — all great.

I did admire them, but now that I’m older, I’ve been in it for so many years, I can see things that I didn’t see before. I have the experience now. I have all the books of the collected works of Raymond, and of Hal Foster, and I’ve looked at the work of the old timers, and I’m not as impressed anymore. In fact, I see a lot of things they did, they could have improved upon. I see things now that leave me cold. I’m not impressed with anything in comics today. The only thing in recent times that I was impressed with, but not really floored by, was Tarzan by Joe Kubert. I think it was one of the best comics produced, of all times. I admire the guy. I think he’s fantastic, I really do. But that’s it. Maybe I’m too close to comics.

[The Art of John Buscema: Volume One (Sal Quartuccio, 1978), p. 9 (or 11, if you count the front cover and inside front)]

Kubert, on the importance of life drawing vs. copying from the masters:

Fine artists have learned through the ages by painting from sculptures and copying classic works but, when it comes to really knowing the figure, if you try to learn from copying other people’s drawings you end up with a double exaggeration. This especially holds true when the person who has really affected you and inspired you to draw like them is drawing an exaggerated figure to begin with. When you try to learn from an artist (comics or other) who is adding exaggeration, you end up exaggerating even more, which removes the figure from reality. One could be copying Mark Silvestri, who’s copying John Buscema, who’s copying Hal Foster, who did Life [sic] drawing! I find that, going back to Life drawing is like going back to the well — the source of inspiration — and it is a necessity which I find it [sic] absolutely essential.

[How to Draw from Life (Vanguard, 2009), p. 12]

Continuing my little tribute to Al Williamson here at RCN, here is a story from the farewell issue (#34 [February 1986]) of Epic Illustrated, with story by Archie Goodwin and art by Al Williamson. The story includes both an homage to Frederic Leighton’s Perseus and Andromeda (1891) and a swipe from an, at the time “Out of Phase” was published, 35-year-old publicity photo of Sophia Loren (see comments for additional details — thanks, Chris A!), both of which I’ve included, dear reader, just because I think you might enjoy seeing them:

BONUS LINKS:

Golden Age Comic Book Stories: Al Williamson: March 21, 1931 ~ June 12, 2010, posted by Mr. Door Tree — includes the story “Food for Thought” from Incredible Science Fiction #32 (Nov.-Dec. 1955), with suitably incredible art by Al Williamson and Roy Krenkel

Mr. Media: Mark Schultz on Al Williamson’s Flash Gordon: A Lifelong Vision of the Heroic, interview by Bob Andelman

As a tribute to the late Al Williamson, here’s a terrific story that originally appeared in Weird Science #19 (May-June 1953):

Here’s Alex Toth, circa 1975, writing about his own career; as usual, click the image to view a larger (and in this case, readable) file:

Somebody out there likes Paul Lehr’s work; I know this not because people post to tell me they like it but because the Ragged Claws Network blog stats show regular visits to the Paul Lehr category. So, on with the show:

All three of the above covers were scanned from the library of yours truly.

BONUS LINKS:

David G. Hartwell on Richard M. Powers

The Richard M. Powers Cyber Art Gallery, curated by C. Jerry Kutner

The Powers Compendium

Yes, I know the given name of everybody’s favourite Art Nouveau image maker is usually spelled “Alphonse.” But in the out-of-print book I scanned these images from, his name is spelled “Alfons,” so that’s what I’ve used here.

BONUS LINKS:

Golden Age Comic Book Stories: Alphonse Mucha, 1860 ~ 1939 — this selection of images includes Mucha’s beautiful Moonlight image.

Golden Age Comic Book Stories: Alphonse Mucha, 1871 ~ 1938, posted by Mr. Door Tree — another large selection of images.

Golden Age Comic Book Stories: Alphonse Mucha 1860 ~ 1939: THE SLAV EPIC, posted by Mr. Door Tree — suffering undone by design.

Golden Age Comic Book Stories: Alphonse Mucha, 1860 ~ 1939: Ilsee, Princesse de Tripoli by Robert de Flers, posted by Mr. Door Tree — a large gallery of page decorations.

Golden Age Comic Book Stories: Alphonse Mucha, 1860 ~ 1939, posted by Mr. Door Tree — even more images by you-know-who.

In the past month or so, my wife and I have become the proud owners of two pieces of original art from the second year of the amazing 45-year run, 1957 to 2002, of the comic strip, Miss Peach, by Mell Lazarus. Although I feel that Lazarus did his best work in his Sunday strips, where he was able more fully to indulge his tremendous gift for comic dialogue, I was thrilled to be able to purchase two fine dailies, dated 09-09-58 and 09-24-58, in two separate auctions, for a mere US$55.50 each, shipping from the USA to Canada included. Here are the strips, which, btw, are not only huge — the paper is 18.5 inches wide by 6.06 inches high — but also in excellent condition, especially considering that they’re more than 50 years old:

Now, I am fully aware that many academically trained artists hate Mell Lazarus’s style of cartooning in Miss Peach, dismissing it as “childish” or worse, but as for me, well, I’ve always had a soft spot for the big-headed, big-nosed, sharp-tongued kids of the Kelly School. Modelled to a large extent on Charles Schulz’s beloved Peanuts, Lazarus’s Miss Peach combined economical but expressive and amusing drawings with witty and incisive social observation and punch lines that could make you laugh and squirm at the same time. The effectiveness of Lazarus’s visual shorthand is especially evident in his characters’ facial expressions, which in my experience always deliver more relevant and touching emotion than Lazarus’s (and Schulz’s) critics would have you believe possible.

In the first decade and a half of his career, Lazarus, who was never short on ambition, steadily worked his way up in the newspaper comics world, going from fledgling freelancer/comic-strip artist — his first, moderately successful strips were “Wee Women” and “Li’l One” — to an assistant position with Al Capp and Elliot A. Caplin’s Toby Press, to art director/comics editor at Toby Press, to nationally syndicated cartoonist. Following the success of Miss Peach, Lazarus, restless as ever, went on to create a short-lived humour-adventure strip, Pauline McPeril, with artist Jack Rickard, in 1966 — it was cancelled after three years — and then bounced back with a second comic-strip hit with Momma, in 1970. And for the next 30 years, Lazarus wrote and drew two syndicated strips, Miss Peach and Momma, until health issues caused him to reduce his work load by dropping Miss Peach in 2002. Momma, however, is still going strong!

But Mell Lazarus hasn’t only had success with readers; he’s also received the respect and approbation of his peers, winning the Best in Humour Strip Award from the National Cartoonists Society (NCS) in 1973 and 1979, the Reuben from the NCS for Outstanding Cartoonist of the Year in 1982 for his work on Miss Peach, and the Silver T-Square from the NCS “for outstanding dedication or service to the NCS or the profession” in 2000. And as if that wasn’t enough, Lazarus’s fellow cartoonists also elected him President of the National Cartoonists Society for two terms, 1989 to 1991 and 1991 to 1993.

Finally, in addition to cartooning, Mell Lazarus has found time to write television scripts, plays, two novels — The Boss is Crazy, Too and The Neighborhood Watch — and, well, you get the picture. He’s always been a busy guy. But not too busy to answer his own front door:

Notice that the publication dates of these covers by Paul Lehr, scanned just this morning directly from the library of yours truly, range from 1969 to 1980. I’m sure some people think of Lehr as a bit of a one-trick pony, but with this little group of four, one gets a nice sense of Lehr’s quiet versatility as an image maker, in a nutshell, as it were. Oddly enough, Frazetta later painted an image, entitled Torment (1986), of a guy impaled on a curvilinear structure that would not look out of place in the future city hinted at in the Gunner Cade cover — which perhaps tells you all you need to know about Frazetta’s attitude to modernity — but Lehr’s flamboyantly attired, bubble-helmeted hero is about as far from the half-naked, heavily muscled, hard-charging Frazetta archetype as one can get. Yes, the Glory Road and Power of Blackness covers are fairly typical Lehr productions; however, with the cover for The Centauri Device, Lehr charges boldly into John Berkey territory, and acquits himself very well indeed.

The numbers and dates of these covers by Jeffrey Jones are included in the file names. They’re displayed here in order of publication, earliest first, latest last, 1969 to 1980.

These figure studies by Jeffrey Jones are undated, but my guess is that they’re from some time in the 1970s:

BONUS LINK:

Corben Studios: Figure Gallery

From Nightmare, volume 1, number 6, Dec. 1971 (as usual, click the image to view a larger version):

I was reminded of the existence of the interview when a copy was posted on the blog “Booksteve’s Library.” I extracted the above scan from a CBR of the magazine that is freely available elsewhere on the Web. I did not get it from “Booksteve’s Library,” where, in fact, you will find a cropped version of the page. However, I am pretty sure Steve got his scan from the same source I did.

BONUS LINK:

The Studio Artists at the 1978 NY Comc Con — promotional profiles of Jones, Kaluta, Windsor-Smith, and Wrightson, with photos of each. The photo of Jones in the falling snow is classic.