REVIEWS: The New Yorker at 100

I recent watched The New Yorker at 100 documentary on Netflix, which turned out to nicely complement the 100 Years of New Yorker Cartoons exhibition we saw at the Society of Illustrators during our visit to NYC in April.

The documentary offered a great glimpse into the magazine’s inner workings and history, including segments devoted to some of the magazine’s established cartoonists (and the cartoon selection process), as well as its iconic covers and distinctive spot illustrations. It was particularly nice to see fFrançoise Mouly, art editor of The New Yorker, in action, who of course is also the co-founder and co-publisher of Raw and Toon Books, as well as the spouse of cartoonist Art Spiegelman—a few weeks before, I had coincidentally re-watched the American Masters episode on Spiegelman, Disaster is My Muse, when I came across it on YouTube—Mouly is prominently featured there as well.

It also included an overview of some of the groundbreaking and celebrated articles and stories in the magazine, such as Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, which first appeared as a piece in The New Yorker, and Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood, first serialized in the magazine. One doesn’t always associate hard journalism with The New Yorker, but it definitely has become known for such work. As an example, Ronan Farrow brought his coverage exposing Harvey Weinstein to the magazine after others thought it was too hot to handle. There were other examples from its history of how the magazine stood by its reporters, a courage that seems to be lacking in many of today’s news outlets.

I’ve always been a fan of magazine and print journalism and, over the years, have intermittently maintained subscriptions to magazines like The New Yorker, Vanity Fair, Wired, Esquire, Time, and The Economist. In fact, it was a career path I briefly considered, and worked as a copy editor at my college paper and interned at an ambitious startup magazine called Buzz in the early 1990s. 

During my brief time there, I worked as a fact-checker—my name is in the masthead on a few of the early issues. The New Yorker is considered the gold standard in fact checking and we were given a fact-checking style guide from The New Yorker to train us. So I was delighted to see the documentary cover its fact-checking operation and, must admit, my jaw dropped when I learned that the magazine had 29 fact checkers on staff!

Al Hirschfeld Exhibit

Even More Sketches for SDCC '25

More Sketches for SDCC '25

Spotted in the Wild in NYC...

Yes, almost immediately after WonderCon ended, we are off to New York City!

Happy 50th Anniversary of Funky Winkerbean

From the Art Vault, Pt. 1

Below is the original art for a Rob Hanes Adventures "pinup" from 1995 that was used on the cover of the Nov. 1997 cover of Diamond Comics' PREVIEWS catalog featuring a collage of upcoming comics....

(The leather coat he's wearing has a little too much red in it. A bit of trivia: it actually was supposed to be a "vintage" leather army air force flight jacket that was sometimes worn by the lead character in the classic adventure strip, "Terry and the Pirates," during World War II. My character wore it in a few early stories.)

Honoring Genial Gene Colan

To see a slideshow of photos from the event described below, click here.

I had the great privilege to attend the annual banquet of the Cartoon Arts Professional Society (CAPS), of which I'm a member, this past weekend. Although CAPS has thrown these banquets for many years since it's founding in 1977, several years ago the group renamed the award given at the event the Sergio, for Mad cartoonist Sergio Aragones, a founding and longtime core member of the group.

This year's Sergio went to legendary comic-book artist Gene Colan. It was a great dress-up affair; the food was terrific, and among the attendees were Aragones, June Foray (a past honoree), Stan Freberg (another past honoree), Bill Morrison (who MC'd), Stan Sakai, and Scott Shaw! Speakers included Gerry Conway, Mark Evanier, and Marv Wolfman. Conway and Wolfman touchingly spoke about how Colan's artistry made them better writers, both of whom worked with Colan early in their careers. Original art by Colan was on display at the dinner, and a tribute book was assembled for the honoree.

An outstanding professional-quality video tribute was also put together by CAPS president Pat McGreal and played at the dinner. The video included glowing tributes by Dave Gibbons, Batton Lash, Rob Liefeld, Jeph Loeb, Jeff Smith, and, of course, Stan "The Man" Lee, as well as others. Numerous photos of Colan's family and of his childhood were included in the video, provided by Colan's wife, Adrienne.

A nice video tribute was also provided by Marvel Comics Editor in Chief Joe Quesada. CAPS member Bill Morrison MC'd, bringing the same style and comedy he has brought to his work as MC of the Eisner Awards.

The honoree, Gene Colan, was touched by the award and in his gracious acceptance remarks, acknowledged the people he had worked with, the fans, and CAPS.

But what made this year's tribute particularly impressive and memorable was the fact that the guest of honor actually was not in attendance—due to health reasons that have been public knowledge, shortly after he accepted CAPS' invitation, he told the group that his doctor had advised against him traveling to California from his home in New York.

So taking advantage of modern technology, using Skype, CAPS (through the tech wizardry of member Stephen Silver) was able to patch Colan in through a video-audio hook-up!! Colan and his wife were projected from a laptop onto a screen and hooked up to the room's sound system, so they were able to see and hear the whole proceeding (see photo above)! Everyone was amazed by the quality of the link from 3,000 miles away, saying it was like a NASA hookup or a remote telecast during the Academy Awards.

A special surprise was during the presentation of the actual award. CAPS had secretly sent the engraved award to Colan's wife, so when the presentation was made at this end, his wife handed him the Sergio statuette—Colan was genuinely surprised and delighted.

After the formal program ended late in the evening, Colan stayed on so that individual attendees could sit at the terminal and speak with him and congratulate him personally. All the guests also received a special edition endplate of an original piece by Colan, individually numbered and personally signed by the artist (see picture above right).

It was another classy event for CAPS from start to finish.

Another blog about the event can be found at the blogs for Mark Evanier and Marv Wolfman.

Mad About Sergio

This past weekend, my family and I had the privilege to attend a special reception for "Mad about Sergio," a gallery exhibition for celebrated, award-winning Mad cartoonist Sergio Aragones, at the Ojai Valley Museum. (I'm also proud to count myself as a professional acquaintance of the artist!) In attendance at the reception was the artist himself, Sergio Aragones, as well as a lot of his good friends from the cartooning world, including "Cathy" comic strip creator Cathy Guisewite, The Simpsons' creator Matt Groening, "Momma" cartoonist Mell Lazarus, and Usugai Yojimbo comic-book creator Stan Sakai.

Though the show ends this week, if you have a chance to catch it before it closes, by all means do so.

The exhibit provides a comprehensive retrospective of Aragones' work and career. Plenty of the artist's original art are included in the show—quite a few are surprisingly large in size, and impressive in their scope and the tiny details for which the fast-drawing cartoonist is known. Samples of some of Aragones' other arts and crafts interests—among them needlework—are also included, which the artist notes helps keeps his creative juices flowing. Pieces from his personal collection of original art by other cartoonists Aragones admires are also in the exhibition. This includes work by Captain Marvel artist C.C. Beck and original comic strip art of classic work like Winnie Winkle and The Captain and the Kids. Many of Aragones' awards are also in the exhibition, as well as a delightful short documentary about the mounting of the show.

And in keeping with the cartoonist's sense of fun, many samples of Aragones' spontaneous cartoons can be found directly on the walls of the gallery itself, often interacting with the display pieces. A re-creation of the artist's work space is on display at the show as well, as seen below.

The show was mounted in conjunction with a series of talks and presentations by the artist.

It was a delightful evening and a lot of fun to visit the show with the artist in attendance.

Below are my photos from the exhibition. To see all the photos, click here. (Note that the photo at the top of this post is from a Los Angeles Times article about the show.)

Click here to see all the photos.

REVIEW: Alan's War

One of the best graphic novels I've read in awhile is Alan's War: The Memories of G.I. Alan Cope by Emmanuel Guibert (2008 from First Second Books). With some exceptions, many American graphic novel memoirs come from a new generation of talented cartoonists who are comfortable expressing themselves through comics. While many of these efforts are often praised for their frank honesty, they tend to also reflect the callowness and narrow experience of youth by being self-involved and introspective.

Alan's War, a biography translated from an original French release, to some degree shares much with these autobiographical memoirs in that it features a young man trying to find his place in the world. The main difference, however, is that the soul-searching in Alan's War occurs during World War II (and a brief period during the post war), when there were larger, more important things occurring in the world around him. And, as with more traditional memoirs, it is told in retrospect with the advantage of hindsight and the passage of time.

"The Greatest Generation" has received extensive attention in recent years, and been deservedly celebrated and honored. I suspect this is partly due to the yearning for an era when the world seemed morally less complex, as well as a desire to preserve the memories of a disappearing generation.

Alan's War, however, defies what most would expect from the memoirs of a World War II vet. For example, the subject of the memoir, Alan Cope, seems to have actually seen very little direct combat (though no doubt enough action to remember for the rest of his life) since he joined the service towards the end of the war and was in training for an extensive period of time before going overseas. Cope also appeared to be unusually sensitive and curious for someone of his age and generation, with a special love for music and the arts. Though not fully explained, this leads to a gradual disenchantment with America and his realization that he has a closer affinity to European culture and its way of life, which leads to his settling down in Europe after the war.

As a result, Cope is able to provide an atypical, intensely quirky and personal view of the second world war, a side not usually seen in literature about the Greatest Generation. His view of boot camp and training truly shows how much the military of the time was a citizen's army, and he speaks candidly about the intense friendships he develops with fellow soldiers, noted and emerging artists and thinkers, and European civilians, some of whom are pragmatic and accepting of the new world order, though remaining unrepentant deep down as Nazis. He recounts with vivid detail many of his personal experiences as a soldier.

The book is written and drawn by Emmanual Guibert, a French cartoonist. According to the introduction, Cope befriended Guibert during the 1990s, and after beginning to share his stories with the younger cartoonist, agreed to allow Guibert to record his memoirs in comics format. Cope died before the French edition appeared.

Guibart allows Cope to tell his story straightforwardly with little adornment but it's compellingly told. With its tender linework, the art is simple but powerful, and the gray wash evokes the era wonderfully for the reader.

Alan's War is a fascinating memoir that provides an alternative view of the wartime era from a uniquely self-aware and original individual.

Note: Alan's War was selected by National Public Radio as an NPR Best Graphic Novel of 2008.

RIP Windows 98 PC—Hello, iMac!

I'm sure I've mentioned in past blogs that my primary computer is a PC that runs Windows 98, purchased back in, of course, 1998. While I enjoy watching people's jaws drop when they hear that, I'm always quick to note that the system—with only 128 MB of RAM—always got the job done for me, so why fix what ain't broke?* The brunt of my post production work on my comics work has been done on this Win 98 machine running Photoshop 5.5 and CorelDraw. Long ago, I learned that it's not the tools that matter, but the skill of the artist, and the same applies to computer hardware and software. After all, no one can tell (or cares) whether the final piece of work was produced with Photoshop 4 or Photoshop 7. (Above right: A promotional shot of my Windows 98 system from a 1998 newspaper advertisement.)

I knew that upgrading the system one day would mean not just replacing my desktop computer, but also probably require me to also purchase new hardware (an 11x17 scanner and graphic tablet), as well as some software—especially if I chose to migrate to a Mac.

Nevertheless, aside from the growing obsolescence of my system, my computer needs and ambitions were gradually outstripping the capabilities of my Win 98 system, and it was coming time to upgrade my computer. After having been mightily impressed with the new iMac,* over the past year or so, the call to upgrade had become stronger. The capabilities of the new Intel processor Macs, plus the ability to run Windows programs at native speeds with third-party software, seemed to offer the possibility to transition to the Mac without necessarily having to completely sacrifice all my PC legacy programs, files and equipment. My earlier reluctance to go Mac wasn't just due to the cost, but also because some of my PC software programs simply were not available on the Mac.

During the Martin Luther King holiday weekend I took the plunge. I purchased a base 20" iMac computer, added 4 Gigs of third-party vendor memory, and at the time of purchase installed Windows XP along with Parallels Desktop software. Parallels allows users to run another operating system natively and side-by-side with Mac's operating system, OS X. (You can even cut and paste between the systems and share folders.)


When it comes to technology, I know to take with a grain of salt the claims computer manufacturers make about their products and know that such installations don't always run so smoothly right out of the box.

So I must admit even I have been shocked at how nearly flawlessly this transition has been given the complexity of this migration. Within Windows, I have been able to install my Quicken 2003 and Quickbooks 2001 programs, and import all the related personal and business financial data.

The real test was connecting my Mustek 11x17 scanner to the system. The scanner is another discontinued dinosaur that I purchased because it was compatible with Windows 98 (and fortunately also XP) and not at all with Mac. Crossing my fingers, I installed Photoshop 5.5 within the Windows environment and installed the appropriate drivers for the scanner—and the scanner came up within the application just as it's supposed to!

I also was able to install an old Epson color stylus printer to the system that was originally purchased to work in tandem with the Win 98 machine. No Mac drivers even exist for the system. After doing some research online, however, I found some third party printer drivers. The printer now not only works within Windows, it also prints from the Mac side as well!

The only item I'll have to upgrade is my graphics tablet due to it being a serial device that only interfaces with an old PS2 style keyboard/mouse connector.

So it's farewell to another piece of equipment that's done great service for me over the years.
-----

* At my "day job," I've had the fortune to have access to state-of-the-art Macs over the years, which is how I became pretty famiiar with Macs and learned how to work seamlessly between PCs and Macs.

SHOP TALK: Google SketchUp

Like a lot of cartoonists, I’ve gradually embraced the digital revolution in varying degrees. Being the lazy bum I am, I’m always interested in making my work easier. However, I’ve also always made a point to only adopt methods that don’t detract from the overall quality of the work, or call attention to itself by clearly looking like it was done on a computer. The best examples are my transition to using Photoshop to emulate classic halftone screens, and CorelDraw for my lettering and balloons (which I blogged about here). Again, the priority for me was to ensure that readers didn’t notice any change in the work, and to add other effects gradually and subtly.

At the 2007 San Diego Comic-Con, a well-known industry pro who has been an acquaintance for many years turned me on to Google SketchUp, a 3D modeling program available as a free download. Only recently, however, did I begin to take baby steps with it, and I must admit I can anticipate it becoming a more regular part of my artist's toolbox.

The program allows users to build and edit 3D models that can then be rotated and viewed at any angle. The model can then be combined with other models, and saved, downloaded and printed in a variety of usable formats. (There are also plenty of filters and features to turn it into a wireframe drawing, or to make it look as photorealistic as possible.) Even better, thanks to the generosity of the online community, there already exists an extensive database archive of objects available for download and customization. As any artist who has struggled with getting the angle just right of a gun, a chair, a staircase, an automobile, an airplane, or even a building or cityscape knows, the applications of such a program is mind-boggling.

I’ve never used a 3D program before, so have no point of comparison for it. But the program is fairly intuitive, though of course once you begin getting more ambitious, you’ll no doubt need to delve into the manual.

I first used the program for a shot of an airplane in an upcoming story. I found a generic plane in SketchUp's online library, rotated it to the right angle, saved it as a TIFF, then used a lightboard to bring it into the finished art.

My next project was a bit more ambitious. A fictitious building in New York City, the Drakorp Building, which is the headquarters for the title character of my comic-book series, Rob Hanes Adventures, occasionally appears in the book. Initially, I had found a generic skyscraper model in SketchUp's library. However, given the distinctive look of the Drakorp building, I thought it might be worth it to take the time to build a 3D model of the building that I could then always have on file to use whenever I needed it.

Though it required some fiddling and more learning about the program, I actually built the model from scratch in just a few hours. You can see the model in its entirety in the image at the top of this post. It's actually a fairly simple, straightforward model, especially since each side is identical. The only part that turned out to be a challenge was cutting and pasting each side of the building with the window slat features down the structure's full length intact. Cutting and pasting in a 3D space turned out initially to be a bit tricky to figure out, but I finally got it to work.

In addition, I decided it might also be a good idea to place the model within a larger city environment to create atmosphere for the structure whenever I used it. After finding a generic cityscape and integrating my Drakorp building model into it, I also imported into the space a completed model I found online of the Empire State Building. (See below for a shot of the final model at a dramatic angle, with the Empire State Building in the background.)

One thing I know for sure is that the next time I need to integrate a stairwell into a story, I will be using SketchUp!

Saluting the Centenary of Milton Caniff

Anyone familiar with my work will know that Milton Caniff—creator of Terry and the Pirates and Steve Canyon—is one of my earliest cartoonist heroes. February 28, 2007 marks the centenary of his birth.

Why did Caniff make such an impact on me? After all, he was an artist whose favorite period of mine was produced in the 1930s thru the '40s, a good 40 years before I discovered him when I was an adolescent. What in his work resonated in me after so many decades?

First of all, of course, was his art. In collaboration with his studio-mate, Noel Sickles, who worked on Scorchy Smith at the same time Terry began, Caniff launched a whole new "school" of cartooning, which used high contrast black and white to great dramatic effect (see sample below). The innovative new style captured a sense of urgency and immediacy that was revolutionary, not too unlike cinema verite.

But though the art initially grabbed readers, ultimately it was the stories and the writing that kept readers coming back for more, and made his work timeless. Caniff's writing and plotting brought a new level of sophistication to comics. His characters (usually the villains but sometimes also the protagonists) were not simply driven by the usual pulp desires of greed and evil for their own sake, but sometimes by petty lust and jealousy as well. Caniff's plot turns often hinged on a character acting out, not because they were inherently evil, but usually because of recognizable human frailty, often leading to regret and a realization and acknowledgment of error.

Even compared to many comics being published today, Caniff's characters and storylines were adult and sophisticated; sex and sexual politics often smoldered beneath the surface and were a potent part of his storylines. There was a lot of subtext both to his stories and the characters.

As this suggests, Caniff's characters' were complex, human and unpredictable—and, in the case of iconic characters like the Dragon Lady, bigger than life. But they also were instantly recognizable to readers. As one of the first "deans of cartoonists," Caniff was an innovator and visionary, who by all accounts also was modest and a true gentleman who was an effective ambassador for his field.

For a more detailed assessment of his work, click here. Reprints of Caniff's work are widely available, and a biography of Caniff by comics historian R.C. Harvey is due in June.