Comic Book Artist (Vol. 2) #3 by TwoMorrows Publishing

DEPARTMENTS Ye Ed’s Rant Heroes 4 Knowles Knows Aeon of Flux 6 Khoury’s Land of the Lost Punishing Fury 8 Comic Book Chit-Chat Sparky’s Legacy: Gary Groth on The Complete Peanuts 11 CBA High Five: Howard Chaykin’s Top Five Illustrators 18 Shameless Hype: Plugging Ploog’s Abadazab 10 Don McGregor Riding Shotgun 20 Irving on the Inside Land’s Lady 22 Incoming! Letters o’ Comment to CBA 24 Fred Hembeck Dateline: @*!?# 26 To Be Continued… What’s coming & George Khoury bio 112

FEATURES

33 44

Jay Stephens Sketchbook 27

The Jet Cat cartoonist’s work on Teen Titans, Nickelodeon & more

Darwyn Cooke New Frontiers 34

From Batman Beyond to Catwoman to The New Frontier, the brilliant “newcomer” gives us a comprehensive look at his life

Dave Stewart Awash in Color 44

The young comic-book colorist on his impressive accomplishments

Mark Chiarello Comics By Design 68

We launch “Pop-Ed Pages” by talking to DC’s editorial art director

Comic Book Artist Classic 47 Little Archie Color Cover Gallery 48 My Adventures with Little Archie: Gary Brown’s Overview 49 Bob Bolling An Adventurous Career 52 The Little Archie creator/artist/writer on life with the puny redhead

Dexter Taylor Taylor-Made Comics 64 The “other” great Little Archie artist on his long comics career COMIC BOOK ARTIST™ is published 10 times a year by Top Shelf Productions, P.O. Box 1282, Marietta, GA 30061-1282 USA. Jon B. Cooke, Editor. Chris Staros & Brett Warnock, Publishers. Editorial Office: P.O. Box 204, 3706 Kingstown Road, West Kingston, RI 02892-0204 USA • 401-783-1669 • Fax: (401) 783-1287. E-mail: JonBCooke@aol.com. Send subscription funds to Top Shelf, NOT the editorial office. Single issues: $10 postpaid ($12 Canada, $13 elsewhere). Six-issue subscriptions: $39.50 US Media Rate/$59.50 US Priority Rate; $69.50 Canada Air Mail; $89.50 Air Mail elsewhere. All characters © their respective copyright holders. All material © their creators unless otherwise noted. All editorial matter © their respective authors. ©2004 Jon B. Cooke. Cover acknowledgement: All characters ©2004 their respective copyright holders. First Printing. PRINTED IN CANADA.

Ye Ed’s Rant

Heroes The promise of Darwyn Cooke and unsung real-life champions of comic books

While Ye Ed and our cover-featured artist, Darwyn Cooke, may share the same last name, we’re not related. Still, during our first “meeting”— via telephone in the spring of 2003, when we conducted the interview herein — we were both amazed at the similarities we share in our respective lives. Except for, of course, the fact that Darwyn possesses a superb cartooning talent and exquisite storytelling ability, Ye Ed and the 43-

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year-old “newcomer” both came of age during the same renaissance era of 1970s comics, both had unhappy tenures as art directors in the advertising field, we’ve had our own respective bouts with alcohol abuse, and we can rant virtually in unison about shortcomings of the comic-book industry, as we share many of the same opinions. We lament, especially, the lack of true menschs in this super-hero dominated medium, both fictional and real, and how the field has turned its back on its longtime role as producer of children’s entertainment. Darwyn and yours truly can get downright rabid about the subject, as our obscenity-laced tirades skewer the mainstream for their lame cowardice. It’s not pretty to hear. But Ye Ed’s pontificating is merely hot air compared to the artist/writer, a pitbull who puts his money where his muzzle is. If the verve and enthusiasm found in his Catwoman and “Slam Brady” episodes weren’t enough, Darwyn’s current DC Comics’ mini-series, The New Frontier, a reworking of the formation of the Justice League of America (circa 1957-62), proves the cartoonist is dedicated to exploring the seemingly lost notions of sacrifice, loyalty and heroism. Having read the first two issues (as this piece is being written in late January), Ye Ed can attest that Darwyn is perhaps the most important mainstream cartoonist to come into the field in the last five years, a creator hellbent on reaffirming the — yes! — wholesome mythology which has served as the moral backbone of the genre. Post-modern deconstructionism? Gritty contemporary depictions of anti-heroes engaged in ultraviolence for its own sake? Endless celebrations for what might be most aptly named the anti-life equation (to steal a phrase from Jack Kirby)? Not in Darwyn’s work, for his world is about the ascension of the hero, whether in the guise of the recently maligned Hal Jordan or a uniquely reimagined Wonder Woman (Xena, move over!). With no slight intended against Dave Stewart’s beautiful coloring in TNF, Darwyn’s palette is one of stark blacks and whites, not the predominate grays in this Age of The Authority. Frankly, it’s about the battle between good over evil, and it’s nice to experience Darwyn’s fresh, yet retro, take on that too oft considered ”quaint” notion. To use the vernacular of the era it showcases, his approach to super-heroes is boss.

This issue also features a few other realworld heroes worth mentioning here, including a look at the genius behind the forthcoming debut volume of The Complete Peanuts, collecting the entire run of Charles “Sparky” Schulz’s seminal comic strip. The acclaimed cartoonist is a personal hero of Ye Ed, not only because the creator so aptly expressed the sensitivities and foibles of being a kid in this too-often complicated and cruel world, never forgetting the real angst of loss and rejection of his youth, but also because Sparky never seemed to lose sight of his responsibilities to his readership. Y’see, Schulz was a rare breed in the world of syndicated cartoonists: he wrote, drew and lettered every single one of those thousands of Peanuts strips he produced over a 50-year period. In this era of Garfield, where creators often have little to do with the strips bearing their credit line (other than to cash the licensing checks), Sparky — along with such brethren as Bill Watterson, the genius behind the lamented Calvin and Hobbes — proved his appreciation for his audience by being the sole creative force behind his work, a true auteur. Sparky, we miss you.

The gent we talk to about the forthcoming book series starring good ol’ Charlie Brown, Gary Groth, as controversial a character as you’ll ever find in this crazy business, is another personal hero. Sure, he’s a pain in the ass and, yes, there are plenty of professionals who will have nothing to do with the guy, but for my money, the co-publisher of Fantagraphics Books has done far more to benefit the comic-book field than detract. The mainstream’s rank criticism of Groth has often baffled Ye Ed, as it off-handedly dismisses the enfant terrible as muckraker, iconoclast and (ye ghads!) pornographer, all true appraisals but (aside from smut-peddling perhaps) titles worth

ABOVE LEFT: Last ish we shared a pic of Cap but told you we lost the name of Cap’s secret identity, but photographer Kenneth Ray of Chicago gave us a call recently to remind us the Sentinel of Liberty is none other than Billy Henderson, who returns for a final salute here. Thanks, guys! Captain America ©2004 Marvel Characters, Inc. INSET ABOVE: Poor ol’ Charlie Brown in a Peanuts comic strip panel by good ol’ Charles Schulz. ©2004 United Features Syndicate, Inc.

Comic Book Artist’s shameless hype, capsule reviews, news briefs, mini-interviews & other ephemera of note

• March 2004

Sparky’s Legacy

Fantagraphics co-publisher Gary Groth talks about The Complete Peanuts

BY JON B. COOKE/TRANSCRIBED BY STEVEN TICE Comic Book Artist: Did you read Peanuts as a kid? Gary Groth: I did. I remember reading the strip in the ’60s, when I was a kid, but I have to admit that it didn’t have any greater impact on me than any number of other strips. I was a desultory comic strip reader as a kid. I’d just read anything from Andy Capp (which I distinctly remember, oddly) to Dick Tracy to Peanuts. I have to admit Peanuts didn’t have any greater impact on me than most of the other strips I read in the newspaper. CBA: In retrospect, do you remember them perhaps better than Andy Capp? Gary: Well, it’s hard to say, because I’ve re-read Peanuts since and have come to appreciate it more. I was a late bloomer in regards to Peanuts. At some point, I recognized Peanuts was a great strip, but in the same way I recognized that about certain strips which I knew were great but which I didn’t love, without having them becoming a significant part of my life. If you read the interview Rick Marschall and I did with Charles Schulz, in 1987 [though published in the final issue of Nemo, #31/32, Jan./Winter ‘91], which we’re reprinting in the first volume of The Complete Peanuts, you’ll notice I don’t know shit about the

strip. All of the questions I asked Schulz are generic, or based on the flow of the conversation. I didn’t go prepared, and wasn’t sufficiently prepared spontaneously because I wasn’t familiar enough with the strip. I think I added a lot of follow-up in the interview where I tried to pin him down on many of the answers he gave, but I wasn’t asking him specific questions about the strip. It was really only in the ’90s when I finally went back and started re-reading them that I gained what I’d call my more mature appreciation of the strip. (I have a very idiosyncratic and unsystematic kind of discovery process.) I can’t even say why I started to re-read the material; it just happened to be something I wanted to do at that time and as it turned out it was a propitious time to do it. But prior to that, I was really very dilettant-ish in my appreciation of Schulz. CBA: Obviously, the strip had mainstream appeal, and it was very highly merchandised and licensed. Were you wary because of its enormous success? Gary: You mean prior to the ’90s? I think that was part of it. I don’t think I deliberately avoided Peanuts because of that, but I think there was a kind of subconscious aversion to loving it very

much because of that very mainstream popularity. I was just into what I considered more radical work, into underground comix and alternative material. I had to go through that period before I could come out of it and go back and appreciate different kinds of work, like John Stanley’s Little Lulu, for instance. CBA: Other genres you hadn’t given attention to, let’s say? Gary: Yeah, usually older work. I think you hit the nail on the head: There was a period probably in the ’70s and ’80s where I just didn’t pay attention to Peanuts, because it did not represent any kind of edge for me. It was such an establishment strip, such a heavily-merchandised strip. CBA: Now that you’ve obviously had a chance to look back at it with more informed or appreciative eyes, are you surprised that such a subtle strip, a strip that really dealt with the angst of being a child, became so successful? Gary: Well, looking over it, I can see its mass appeal. I think there are these anomalies, where

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Comic Book Chit-Chat great artists achieve popularity. I’m not sure I could name anyone off the top of my head besides Schulz, but it occasionally happens. [Thinks for a few seconds] [Vladimir Nabokov’s sexually charged novel] Lolita is an example. Everyone knows what Lolita means. Why the hell did that book break out? CBA: Lolita was perhaps, maybe along with Peanuts, very much tied to its time. It came out when Playboy was gaining popularity, the Kinsey Report [on human sexuality] was released. Maybe part of Peanuts’ success was tied to the baby boom?

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Gary: That’s right: they both may have been at the right place at the right time. I guess that’s true of almost everything. It all depends on where and when you are. CBA: You went through a certain period of radicalism in your life. Did you look at, perhaps (to pick an example) the naming of [Snoopy’s bird friend] Woodstock, with a wry eye? Gary: Well, not at the time. That would have been what, ’69? No, I was a blissfully ignorant in 1969. I would have been 15, and about social and political realities I didn’t know shit from shinola. I’d only barely heard of Woodstock.

CBA: You weren’t going through a latent hippy stage? Gary: No. You know, in another year or two, by 1970 or ’71, I became a belated hippy. A faux hippy. CBA: Then your corruption started to take place? [laughs] Gary: Yes, I remember having arguments with my parents over growing my hair long. Or rather, I just stopped cutting it. [laughs] I missed Woodstock. I was two or three years behind the curve. I became aware of Vietnam a little later than a lot of people and partly because I was about to be drafted! CBA: You had a father in the military, right? Gary: Right. CBA: What is it about Peanuts that makes it art? Gary: I did a tremendous amount of research on Schulz and the strip before I did my 1997 interview, so, looking over it all, it was the depth and the resonance and the pain, I think, that struck me most forcefully about the strip. I was continually amazed at how Schulz was able to create this life’s work that repeated a handful of themes, yet each time he tackled them, they had the same resonance they had had in the previous incarnations, or he would actually add to it in some inexplicable way. CBA: For instance, what themes are you talking about? Gary: Well, rejection, of course. CBA: Charlie Brown’s rejection by the little red-headed girl, you mean? Gary: Yes, and that kind of heart-break applies to just about everybody. It’s so universal it’s banal but Schulz was able to transform what could easily have been a cliché in a lesser artist’s hands into something truly profound. Also, Lucy’s rejection by Schroeder… The alienation in the strip also resonated universally. Almost everybody (except people I really can’t stand) have felt themselves this sense of pain, this loss, this alienation, if not continually throughout their lives, then at certain periods in their lives. Obviously these feelings were important to Sparky and the memories of alienation and rejection stayed with him his entire life, and not just about the little redheaded girl. Every artist can depict pain, but he was able to universalize it so eloquently, and with such compelling and iconic characters, that he was able to ride that razor’s edge of being a great artist and being a commercial artist. (I don’t know if that answers the damned question.) CBA: I think it does. [laughter] How about

stylistically? Was his minimalist style artistic? Gary: How can you imagine the strip being drawn in any other way? That subtle, gestural approach had to have something to do with how well he communicated all of his themes. He was something of a pioneer in that reductive style that a lot of people went on to abuse. CBA: But Schulz’s style is very difficult to replicate, isn’t it? Gary: Well, that’s what I hear from any number of artists, like Ivan Brunetti or Chris Ware. They just can’t get that same line. I assume that’s true, because that line represents his signature. This is true of every line by any superlative artist. There are artists with extraordinary lines, and then there are artists with other strengths, who don’t have that same quality. But it is impossible to replicate that Schulz line, because it’s like handwriting, it comes out of his being, out of who he is and what he’s experienced. It’s not just a matter of technique; it’s a matter of form and content forming a perfect whole. The line is just exquisite, and why it’s exquisite, and why it’s exquisitely appropriate, is one of those mysteries of art. I guess that’s partly what makes the strip as good as it is, because you can’t dissect it. You can look at that line until you fall over, but you still can’t quite figure out what makes it so expressive. And that’s true of, I think, every great cartoonist, like Chris Ware, Jaime Hernandez, etc. That line is just so distinctive and expressive. CBA: Now, since The Complete Peanuts is starting from Year One, you must have looked at the development of his style. Is there a radical shift in the early years? Gary: Well, my impression is that his style achieved maturity pretty quickly. I mean, the very early strips are obviously very different from what it became. I did study the strip pretty closely six years ago, when I interviewed Sparky [The Comics Journal #200, Dec. ‘97], and I haven’t gone back recently and looked over the whole 50 years, but I think his approach and his line does evolve over the entire course of the 50 years. In the first five years, he achieves what we really recognize as the style of Peanuts pretty quickly. I mean, you can see it in the first two years, which represents the first book, and by the end of volume one, all the characters are pretty recognizable, with the possible exception of Snoopy, who’s still walking on all fours. But you can see Schulz figuring it all out, trying to determine where he’s going to go and how he’s going to evolve as an artist, how he’s going to depict these kids. The first year or so, there’s a crudity to

TOP: The very first Peanuts comic strip, from October 2, 1950. Courtesy of Fantagraphics. Peanuts ©2004 United Feature Syndicate. ABOVE: The “father” of Charlie Brown in (presumably) a 1960s photograph, courtesy of Kim Thompson and Fantagraphics.

Conducted by

Jon B. Cooke

Transcribed

Steven Tice

Darwyn Cooke is an “old-school” type of guy, the kind who still believes we need heroes. Whether he’s talking about artist Alex Toth or Hal Jordan, the cartoonist is passionate about the subject and nowhere is it more evident than in his current on-going DC Comics six-issue mini-series, The New Frontier, an epic retelling of the origin of the Justice League of America written and drawn by Darwyn. The creator, who cut his comic-book teeth on various Catwoman series over the last few years, was interviewed via telephone on April 24, 2003, and Darwyn copy edited the final transcript.

Comic Book Artist: What year were you born, Darwyn? Darwyn Cooke: 1962. CBA: So you do go back! I’d bet people think you’re just a new, young hotshot on the scene, right? Darwyn: It’s funny sometimes when people meet me. I try to explain that I’m in my second life, my second career. CBA: Well, I guess we’ll learn it all here. Where are you originally from? Darwyn: Toronto, Canada. Born and raised. CBA: What kind of childhood did you have? Did you live in the city itself? Darwyn: Only when I was a very small child. We moved out into the suburbs when I was in grade one. It was a very typical North American childhood from that era: a suburban home. I also had two younger brothers. CBA: Any sisters?

Darwyn: No, much to my mother’s chagrin. [laughs] CBA: What did your mom do? Darwyn: She was a really bright lady who would work when she felt like it and took care of the house when she felt like it. So for two years she’d be home making lunches and keeping house, keeping everything rolling, then she’d get bored and say, “Well, I’m going to go get a job.” She did various things: office manager, restaurant work, whatever she felt like doing. CBA: She was an empowered woman? Darwyn: Yeah, I’d say almost totally, except for her attachment to my father. [laughs] CBA: But love will do that? Darwyn: Yes. My father was a bit of a rascal. I’d say he was her weakness. CBA: What did he do? Darwyn: My father was a construction worker most of his life, and ended up running the union.

PAGE 33: Hal Jordan/New Frontier illustration for Tripwire magazine, 2002. ©2004 DC Comics. PAGE 34: (From top) Motion blur from the Batman Beyond title sequence; Martian Manhunter (from NF); “Heroes of The New Frontier”; Catwoman by Darwyn Cooke (pencils) and Doc Allred (inks). All ©2004 DC Comics. KUU Snowboard Girl advertising illustration by Darwyn for KUU Snowboards (’97) ©2004 the respective copyright holder. Kids from Batman Beyond by Glen Murakami and Darwyn. ©2004 DC Comics. PAGE 35: (From top) Portrait of Darwyn by Steven Manale; detail of the Slam Bradley color guide (’01) ©2004 DC Comics; Spider-Man’s Tangled Web #11 (Apr. ’02) cover ©2004 Marvel Characters, Inc.; Selina pencil drawing (’01); art from Batman Beyond by Bruce Timm and Darwyn; Dana Tan from Batman Beyond by Shane Glines and Darwyn. All ©2004 DC Comics. ABOVE: Green Lantern from The New Frontier. ©2004 DC Comics. OPPOSITE PAGE: The Suicide Squad from The New Frontier. ©2004 DC Comics. All images courtesy of Darwyn Cooke.

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most important, but there were other things running along in that same period of time that were mightily impressive. Jim Steranko, being one of them, made a profound impression on me, I think because of his sense of design and his ability to add that elegance to Kirby’s basic approach. “Red Tide” [Fiction Illustrated, Vol. 3, Chandler, Aug. ’76] came out and, looking at that work and doing all my burrowing around, I came up with Al Williamson’s [newspaper comic strip] Secret Agent Corrigan, where he’d taken the idea of high-contrast photo reproduction to an extreme. I was looking at that work and saw a middle-ground for myself for quite a while, trying to hit the realistic proportions and nature of Adams’ work, but breaking it into solid black-&-white the way Toth would or the way Williamson did during that period. Dave Stevens was just starting to happen. I also had just started collecting all those EC Comics Russ Cochran volumes. Half of my education is in those books. So I started to see that there was a middle-ground for me at that time, trying to keep my drawing classic, but also trying to break it down into black-&white simplicity, getting away from the idea of feathering and so forth. CBA: Did you find that hard to do? As a kid, I remember spending hours and hours feathering and feathering and feathering, just indulging myself, only realizing after many hours that no amount of feathering can disguise a bad drawing. Darwyn: Exactly. CBA: While there can be a reason for feathering, isn’t it often just unnecessary embellishment? Darwyn: Well, I also think one of the biggest problems the industry faces, in general, is how little most of the artists look at the world outside of this business. I still had an interest in art and design beyond comics at that age, so at that time I’m also looking at Blue Note album covers from the ’50s, Norman Rockwell, and I’m also looking at David Stone Martin. I was drawing from a really deep pool of stuff for a thirteen year old, looking at all kinds of things. To me, the simpler comic work made sense in the context of Picasso and the ’50s illustration and the design revolution. So it seemed legitimate that the more you stripped away, the more powerful the work became. INSET ABOVE: Slam Bradley (’03). Character ©2004 DC Comics.

A lot of those lessons for me came through graphic design and other areas. I could see how it all connected there and why it was working. CBA: What education did you pursue? Darwyn: It’s a long story: When I got out of high school, I was still 17. Somehow or other, I must have skipped a grade (I’m not that smart, but my mother somehow got me into kindergarten early), and I decided to work for a while. So for two years I worked construction. At this point, I was doing mostly portrait work and experimenting with wash and just trying to capture people, drawing movie stars or friends. The neighbor of one of the guys I worked with was an instructor at one of the colleges we had there. He and I ended up getting together, and I got into college that way. Then, after a year, they threw me out [laughs] for poor grades and bad habits. That’s when I got serious. I’d been thrown out of school and was pretty ashamed, so I thought, “If I’m going to do something with my life, I’ve got to get to it.” CBA: What year was this, roughly? Darwyn: This would be about 20 years ago now, in 1982 or ’83. I decided comics were the thing and spent the next year working in a bar as a waiter and working on my comics stuff. I went down to DC at the end of that year, I guess. They had just started up New Talent Showcase [19 issues, Jan. ’84-July ’85], which actually made it clear they were looking for new people. So I got really excited about that, made the big trip down to New York LEFT: Batman City, and it went Beyond still from really well. They the title sequence bought my sample by Darwyn and continued on page 84

Bruce Timm (’99) ©’04 DC Comics.

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Awash in Color:

The Diverse Pallet &

What makes Dave Stewart a special talent, Darwyn Cooke confided, is the fact the colorist is also an accomplished artist in his own right (as you will see in Dave’s drawings accompanying this interview), giving our subject greater insight in his approach to the work than perhaps his peers. He was interviewed via phone on November 23, 2003. Comic Book Artist: When and where were you born, Dave? Dave Stewart: Boise, Idaho, on August 3, 1972. CBA: Did you have brothers and sisters? Dave: One younger brother. CBA: Was your family creative? Dave: My mom painted, but other than that, no. She did a painting every four years or so. She would paint a portrait, from a face out of a magazine, things like that. CBA: Did you draw at an early age? Were you creative? Dave: Yes. In sixth grade, I was drawing my own comics and actually selling them to kids at school. CBA: Did you key into comics young? Dave: Yes, I did. I started collecting comics. My mom and dad were religious fundamentalists but they got ahold of them and pitched my whole comic book collection in the trash. Around sixth grade, I wasn’t allowed to have comics anymore. In college, I got back into them again. CBA: What kind of comics were you reading before they threw the collection away? Dave: I remember some of my favorites were the Art Adams X-Men Annual [#10, Jan. ‘86] and I remember reading a lot of Eclipse stuff. CBA: Did you put up a defense with your parents? “Hey, these aren’t so bad”? Or there was just no changing their minds? Dave: I didn’t have much of a chance. I didn’t want to see the comics go. It was pretty bad, but I did continue to draw, and that spurred me on even more, because I didn’t have comics to read, so I had to make my own comics to fill that void. CBA: What kind of comics did you do? Dave: It was a lot of science-fiction stuff, with robots. CBA: Were you watching any animated cartoons at the time? G.I. Joe, for instance? Dave: Every once in a while, I’d watch some cartoons, but other than that, not much. CBA: Your parents were pretty

strict about what you would be exposed to? Dave: Oh, yeah. They were very, very religious. CBA: Were you able to be creative within that environment? Dave: It was weird. I remember I was a fan of [the Marvel mini-series] Rocket Raccoon [#1-4, May-Aug. ‘86, Incredible Hulk #271, May ‘82] at the time. I had picked it up. Little did I know that I’d be coloring [Rocket Raccoon artist] Mike Mignola’s art years and years later! [laughs] I really loved that book. Then my parents caught wind of it and they said, “These are talking animals. That’s demonic. Animals don’t talk, so you can’t have this comic,” and that was that. They were afraid of the imagination. They didn’t want me drawing monsters, didn’t want me to draw talking animals, or anything like that, so I was stuck with war and sci-fi comic material, as long as it didn’t get “too crazy”. CBA: So they kept a strict eye on what you read? Dave: Yes, pretty much. I tried to make them happy. I was totally immersed in fundamentalism myself, so I tried to be a good boy. [laughs] CBA: Did you go to parochial school or were you home-schooled? Dave: I went to private schools up to grade seven, and then after that I was home-schooled. These were private Christian schools, so they didn’t have a lot of creative activity. I was always encouraged to draw when I was in class, but beyond that, there wasn’t a lot of creative stimulation. CBA: Did you go through a period of rebellion? Dave: Well, like I said, I was really into the religious part of it, too. I thought I was doing the right thing, but when I started going to college, I guess I started rebelling a little bit. My eyes started opening up. It’s that whole thing: you’re just fed one idea throughout your

conducted by jon b. cooke

CBA

V.2 #3

ABOUT OUR “COVER”: Superb rendering of Little Archie and his co-stars by the character’s creator, the great Bob Bolling, drawn exclusively for Comic Book Artist. Colored by Aaron Reiner. All characters ©2004 Archie Publications, Inc. TOP: Little Archie commission piece drawn by the incomparable Bob Bolling, featuring Mad Doctor Doom, Chester, and our red-headed hero. From the collection of Mark Worden. Art ©2004 Bob Bolling. Characters ©2004 Archie Publications,Inc. ABOVE: Quartet of Bolling covers for various Little Archie titles. RIGHT: Detail from a Little Archie house ad. All courtesy of Gary Brown and ©2004 Archie Pubs, Inc.

DEDICATION: Given that the comics historian contributed this entire “issue” of Comic Book Artist Classic celebrating Little Archie, we gratefully dedicate this to:

GARY BROWN

I first met Little Archie on a whim. When I was 10 years old, I had just started to pay serious attention o comic books. The purchase of Action Comics #226 (Mar. ’57) had instantly propelled me into what would become a lifelong hobby of reading and collecting comic books. At first, my buying habits included mostly those books that were 10-year-old-boy friendly, namely the Superman and Batman titles. But, occasionally, when I had a few extra dimes and quarters in my pocket, I searched the squeaky wire racks for new comics that might appeal to me. Mostly, those included an occasional Dell cowboy comic book, Carl Barks’ Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge, and the John Stanley/ Irving Tripp Little Lulu. One day in 1958, with few new comics of interest on the stands and two quarters to spend for cutting a neighbor’s lawn, I came upon Little Archie #4. I was instantly fascinated by a comic book that featured a teenage Archie as a kid. It was enough to snag me and my 25¢ (plus tax). After taking the issue home and reading it several times, I was hooked. I was an 11-year-old boy, so not yet interested in the regular Archie books and their comedic teenage boy/girl interaction. However, the idea of reading about this American icon as a little kid seemed fascinating to me. The stories were funny and I easily identified with the characters. What initially drew me to the Little Archie comic books, however, was the sense of community that Little Archie and his pals offered. They had a group of close friends they called “The Good Ol’ Gang” and they often did things or had adventures together. It wasn’t one kid against the world, but one kid supported by boys and girls of his own age. Writer and artist Bob Bolling created a world for Little Archie and his buddies that, although it was expanded to other cities, countries and planets from time to time, was well defined and consisted of what most young kids would consider an ideal existence. There was a clubhouse, a creek for fishing and

swimming, forests and hills for exploring, and a relatively safe environment in which kids could run, roam and play. And it had all the demands and rules young kids dealt with in everyday life. Their parents had them do chores and keep their rooms straight, but were there for the kids in times of need. There were bullies and casual not-so-nice kids in school and, on the south side of town, in the guise of the Southside Serpents, a rival gang. The boys did not want to play with the girls, but more often than not, the girls got to participate anyhow; and even friends disagreed and argued. It is interesting that Bolling has said Archie’s editors and top brass basically left him alone in writing and drawing his Little Archie stories from the first issue on. There were occasional editorial forays into new titles like Little Ambrose, Little Archie in Animal Land, and Little Archie Mystery, but the higher-ups never told him to write certain stories or stop drawing a particular way. This means Bolling was allowed to create this world and keep it spinning by subtly using many of the same characters and events to trigger new tales. Dexter Taylor, the “other” Little Archie artist, has said in conversations that he also was allowed to write and then draw stories without prior editorial approval. However, some word editing would be done on the final product, if needed. The best example of this is Bolling’s creation of Little Ambrose, a kid smaller than the other members of the Good Ol’ Gang and subsequently picked on by them. However, Bolling gave Ambrose determination, so the kid who hadn’t grown into his large red hat yet constantly hung out with Little Archie and his friends in an effort to win their respect and friendship. But Little Ambrose is more than a mere sympathetic character. His diminutive size makes him the catalyst for all sorts of exploits and misadventures. For example, in the story “Balloon Boy” (Little Archie #10), the gang makes a crude version of a hot-air balloon, but none of them are brave enough to go up in it. So, they turn to Little Ambrose,

Overview by Gary Brown

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who jumps at the chance, thinking it will put him in good standing with his “elders.” Of course, the flight turns into a humorous disaster involving everyone and putting Ambrose back on the outside. However, Bolling allows Ambrose to succeed in friendship with Little Archie on many occasions in a oneon-one relationship. The title’s star understands that while Ambrose can be a pest, he has a good heart. This is a theme Bolling returns to many times with Little Archie: people are basically good. Although Little Archie and others have to look hard to find it at times, it still is there. That theme is best typified in the story, “In Trouble,” (Little Archie #21). Little Archie gets in trouble at school by fighting, shooting a squirt gun, and stealing Jughead’s lunch. So, Principal Weatherbee calls Mr. Andrews and makes an appointment to visit that afternoon to talk about Little Archie. While driving to the Andrews’ house, Weatherbee spots Little Archie walking home, but the picture he gets of the youngster is much different. Little Archie picks a flower for a little girl, helps an elderly woman cross a busy street and rescues a distressed cat from a tree. When Weatherbee meets Little Archie’s father, he changes his tune and says what a nice young man the boy is. Little Archie, unaware of the principal’s change of heart, is upstairs in his room putting together model airplanes. As a kicker, when Weatherbee gets in his car to leave, he asks Mr. Andrews for help to release the emergency brake. Why? “Someone” put glue on his steering wheel and Weatherbee can’t move his hands. Aside from Little Ambrose, Little Archie’s relationship with Betty is perhaps the most interesting. The Betty-loves-Archie-but-he-doesn’t-know-it theme is carried over from the “Big” Archie comic books, but Bolling often digs deeper into Betty’s character. In “The Long Walk” (Little Archie #20), Betty sees Veronica walking home from school with Little Archie, so she calls him up to see if he would walk home with her the next day. Little Archie is uninterested, but a bribe of a strawberry soda makes him agree. Frustrated that Betty “tricked him” into going for a walk like Veronica had done, Little Archie decides he will give the “sissy girl” a walk she will never forget through Spook Woods and Hocomock Swamp.

Betty, on the other hand, is delighted and wears her favorite dress in anticipation of a lovely walk home. But Little Archie drags her through quicksand, over a log on Carson’s Creek, near a hornet’s nest, into a briar patch, past bats and ants, and finally over an “extra-mean barbed wire” fence. Betty matches Little Archie step for step, even though she is a mess and her favorite dress is ruined. As they pass Veronica and other friends at the soda shop, they all laugh at how Betty looks. Realizing he’s hurt Betty, Little Archie apologizes and tells her, “You’re as brave as any boy.” Betty’s feelings for Little Archie are revived and she gets to cut a lock of his hair for her scrapbook. This is a good story by itself, but Bolling uses two devices to help bring home the important points. One is a full-page map showing the “long walk” home through all the dangers Little Archie could find. It graphically demonstrates just what Betty had to endure. Second is a framing device using three of Betty’s stuffed dolls: a panda bear, a captain, and a witch. He has them come to life on a shelf in the bedroom and discuss what Betty is doing and why. The bear and the captain can’t figure out things, but the witch warns that Betty is “under someone’s spell.” The story’s final panel shows a dirty and tattered Betty sleeping, scrapbook under her head, with a big smile on her face. The bear and captain dolls wonder what happened to her, but the witch has the poetic answer: “Can’t you tell her heart’s full of joy, put there by a red-haired boy?” As Bolling became more comfortable with writing and drawing Little Archie, he started to explore storylines outside the Riverdale boundaries. He began by putting Little Archie into adventure stories, then quickly moved into using fantasy and science-fiction. Although popular topics such as battling pirates, going to Mars and fighting a monster were used, Bolling was able to put his own clever touch on the stories. For example, to put Little Archie in the time pirates ruled the seas in “Pirates” (Little Archie #21), he used a confused scientist who accidentally releases a mysterious vapor while sitting by Little Archie, thereby sending him into Blackbeard’s clutches. To get our hero to Mars, Bolling brought two Martians to Earth on a mission in “On Mars” (Little Archie #18) and they run into Little Archie,

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capturing him and taking him to the red planet as a prisoner. Bolling also is very good at using his wry humor to set up a story. In “Venus Revisited”(Little Archie #23), Bolling populates Venus with cute, octopi-like creatures, one of whom loves to play the bongos. A trip to Earth in a used spaceship puts the musical Herbnik in contact with Little Archie, who eventually saves the alien’s life and has his deeds celebrated in song back on Venus. In contrast, while Bolling’s “On Mars,” uses humor and gags throughout the story, it is more serious and puts Little Archie in a position of peril. As Bolling moved more into adventure stories, he developed what I consider to be three distinct styles of drawing. For the regular stories of Little Archie in Riverdale with the Good Ol’ Gang, Bolling used what might be termed the “regular” Archie cartooning style. For science-fiction and fantasy stories, he used a more complicated style that included additional line work on such subjects as futuristic cities, alien landscapes and unusual characters. While this wasn’t a huge departure from the regular stories, he often would use a number of panels that showed the reader the tone of this particular story was different from the norm. Finally, for the mystery tales, Bolling used a much darker style that seemingly put the cartoon-like Little Archie in the real world. The adults and villains would be drawn in a realistic style, so the contrast with the Little Archie character was dramatic and effective. It was the second s-f/fantasy style that Bolling used to draw the popular Mad Doctor Doom stories. The green, monstrous Mad Doctor Doom is determined to conquer the world, but each time he creates a devious plot, Little Archie pops up and somehow puts an end to it. Bolling clearly enjoyed doing the Mad Doctor Doom stories as much as he liked the connection between the villain and Little Archie. “(Mad Doctor Doom’s) nemesis — the only nemesis put there by fate or providence — is Little Archie,” Bolling said. “Little Archie doesn’t know it, but Doctor Doom knows that if he could get rid of Little Archie — his nemesis — the world is his.” Mad Doctor Doom and his sidekick Chester first appeared in “Robots of Doom” (Little Archie #24). After a four-issue delay, the Doctor then appeared in five consecutive issues, starting with “Dig Those Grubbers” (Little Archie #29). Mad Doctor Doom also appeared in “The Terrible Tornado Machine” (Little Archie #38), the final issue Bolling worked on in his

first run on the title. Mad Doctor Doom was serious about his life’s calling and split his time between his castle, Crackstone Manor, and traveling the world as a stowaway and sometime dishwasher on a freighter, the Pride of Walvis Bay. Although some of his conquest plans were evil, his choice of a sidekick could be questioned. Chester Plunkett was the archetypal teenage hood of the 1950s and ’60s. With slickedback hair piled high on his head and a ducktail in the back (think John Travolta in Grease), the punk rarely got anything right and was of little help to the Doctor. Also, his language was pure 1960s hipster, adding “ville” to many words, such as “berrysville,” “rocketsville,” and “losersville.” In the modern cartoon vernacular, Chester was “Pinky” to Mad Doctor Doom’s “The Brain.” Perhaps the best Mad Doctor Doom story was “Time Taxi” (Little Archie #32). A frustrated Mad Doctor Doom decides he’ll never conquer the world as long as Little Archie is there to somehow foil his plans. So, he uses a time machine (a.k.a. Time Taxi) to go back in time “BLA” — Before Little Archie. However, his plans continue to fail because there conveniently is a red-headed “Little Archie” in each time period he visits to muck up things. After Bolling stopped producing Little Archie stories with #38, Dexter Taylor took over all the scripting and drawing on the title. But Taylor was no stranger to the character. He had been doing Little Archie stories since the third issue, successfully employing many of the same adventure themes and characters. In fact, Taylor has done more issues of Little Archie than anyone else. But some of the stories, driven by editorial changes, reflected less of that unique world created by Bolling and more of what was going on in the “Big” Archie titles, including the introduction of “The Little Archies” singing group (#42), and Little Pureheart (#40), which was a smaller version of Archie’s super-hero identity (Pureheart) during the mid- to late 1960s. Taylor’s work on Little Archie is no less important to the title, however. He has the distinction of following Bolling’s successful development of the concept that began in 1956. I have long contended that the Bolling Little Archie stories are some of the finest to ever come out of American comic books. The stories possess the same artistic and technical quality as Barks’ work on the Disney ducks and Stanley’s Little Lulu comics, two of the giants in the field. Bolling told stories with meaning and purpose. They taught young readers to keep trying their best, fight to overcome prejudice and listen to the goodness in their hearts. Like most of us, Little Archie was far from perfect, but in the end his good parts always won out — sometimes defeating Mad Doctor Doom’s latest plot to enslave the planet and other times merely bringing warm smiles to the faces of his parents. Bolling created some wonderful adventure and fantasy stories for his readers, but more importantly, he was able to put down on paper the energy, curiosity and mischievous mind of a young child. While we all didn’t grow up as part of a Good Ol’ Gang in a safe and exciting town like Riverdale, we certainly wished we had.

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TOP: Typical Bolling adventure spread, this from Little Archie #13. INSET: Panel from Little Archie in Animal Land #1. ABOVE: Gary Brown reading his fave comic title.

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Comic Book Artist: Let’s start off at the beginning — where and when were you born? Bob Bolling: I was born in Brockton, Massachusetts, on June 9. I’m a Gemini, so I jumped around a lot. And if I give the year, I’m going to get a lot of brochures from long-term care facilities and retirement homes and funeral homes. CBA: So, you’re older than 19? Bob: Yes, old enough to drink. Would you like a beer? (Did you know that in Col. Sanders’ will, he asked to be cremated extracrispy? I deal in facts, since we’re talking about funeral homes.) CBA: What about your childhood? Tell us a little about your parents and how you lived as a child. Bob: It was perpetual charm, I’d have to say. My father was a scientist and a chemist, and my mother was a bacteriologist. That’s where they met, in the laboratory. My father was head of the laboratory in city hall in Brockton, Massachusetts. He also was an expert murder witness and a ballistics expert, and he and my mother got together over test tubes, and that’s how I was created. But he was a great man. I think he always wished that I had followed in his footsteps. For Christmas, he’d always give me microscopes and things like that. They were interesting, but I always wanted to draw. He had a marvelous gun collection. Fantastic. Sometimes he’d give me toy guns. And I lived with guns. I was shooting a rifle when I was five or six years old down on the Cape [Cod], with supervision, of course. But I never got interested in guns; I was always interested in drawing and reading, which I did a lot of. CBA: Where did that interest come from? Were you interested in the comic strips in the newspaper? Bob: Yes. I always wanted to write. When I was a kid, we read comic books and swapped them, and then the Sunday papers would come, as well as the daily papers, and I’d devour them. My father had a pretty big library in his den and I would read and look at all the books that were of interest to me. I’ll never forget one thing that interested me, even though I was only about three years old — I used to toddle into his den, and the bigger books were on the bottom. I was able to get one particular book out. It fell down and I was able to lay on it and look at it. It was Dante’s Inferno. It had the most hideous engravings of people in hell and it was written in Latin, but I couldn’t read it anyway.

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Conducted Conducted & & Transcribed Transcribed by by Gary Gary Brown Brown

Wednesday and Sunday. I’ve been quite fortunate. I’ve sold some of my work through a gallery up in the Florida Panhandle. I’ve gotten as much as $1,000 a painting, but this is a new thing for me, and I’m learning. I’m not a good painter, but I haven’t done that many. But, I like painting. I’m going to keep doing it, and I’m so happy that people like it and want to shell out their hardearned cash for it. CBA: I see you’ve done some landscape, figures, and still life paintings. Bob: I haven’t done any landscapes, but I’ve got some sketches I’m working on. I’ve taken some photos and I’m working them up. I want to work on my paint quality and see if I can work on technique and help my brushwork. On landscapes, you don’t have to be as accurate as you do on figures. The figures you tend to tighten up. CBA: And you also do what could be called cartoon paintings. You’ve got the dragon and the lady. You’ve done a series of those. Bob: Yeah, and I’ve sold those. I’ve sold all of those except the few I have here. And I’m doing one now that’s really an exaggeration of laughter and enormous mouths and big boobs. It’s really kind of outrageous. It’s a style that has evolved into that. I’m not going to do every painting like that. But I want to do it and see how it looks. CBA: Going back to your comic-book work. What is the hardest thing for you to do? Writing? Penciling? Inking? Bob: It’s all hard, but I think writing is the hardest. If you write a good story, somehow you know the drawing is going to be good. And you’re enthusiastic about doing the drawing. I get these scripts today and it’s nothing but heads talking. It’s so difficult to draw and it’s so uninspiring. They’re sometimes in school, where you’re limited in background and atmosphere. I got two stories recently that were exactly alike. And they go through the predictable stuff — five pages and six panels a page. I try to put in action, but we don’t have much action these days. A kid picks up a book and thumbs through it and there’s nothing but heads talking. But if you see somebody hanging from a balloon by a string or on a bridge that’s collapsing or anything like that, it piques the interest. So, if I can write stories that will do that, my drawing will be better. CBA: Is there a Little Archie story you haven’t done yet and would like to? Bob: Yes, I recently reread one that was done for Archie & Me and another for Betty and that was about the Civil War. I’d like to do one with Little Archie where he perhaps would somehow be a drummer boy. He’d lead the troops, because that is what the drums were for, and he could get involved in a story with a drummer boy from the other side — either the Confederacy or Union. Maybe with his drums, he could avert a common disaster or something. At the end, they would realize that we’re all brothers. A story like that. I think the Civil War would bring that out and I would like to do that story. CBA: Do the Little Archies you wrote and drew in the 1950s and ’60s still connect with kids today? Bob: I don’t know. Every once in a while I will find a book, and stop and read a story that I did. Of course, I forget them as soon as I finish them. And I’ll think “That’s not bad,” or “Why did I do it that way?” But I think it may connect with kids today because kids are kids. I mean, I’m a kid at heart. Kids are the same today, but their interests may be different. There weren’t any computer games back then. CBA: I have two sons and I know that watching them as they were growing up — the world is different, but the growing-up part of life, at that age, still is the same. They are curious, mischievous and always learning. I don’t think that changes at all. Bob: I agree. So, I think they are applicable, the stories I did then. Of course, back in the ’50s, I couldn’t write as well as I can now. CBA: Do you like doing comic book covers or is it a necessary evil? Bob: No, it’s a necessary evil. I didn’t like it because you have to submit sketches. Because they had to be really good, I’d tighten up on them and my work didn’t have the usual freedom it has. And when someone else inks it, it

would be even stiffer or less accurate than I would like. So, I was never crazy about doing covers. Plus, thinking about them isn’t easy. You sit down and make a lot of sketches and submit them. It takes a lot of time CBA: On Little Archie, at first there were gag covers. Then, gradually, the covers began to reflect the story inside that issue. Bob: Yeah, and we’d even have little pictures about the stories on the covers. And I thought that was a pretty good idea. CBA: Wasn’t there a time when you were offered a book at Tower Comics? Bob: Now, Harry Shorten had moved to Florida. Up in the Lake Worth or Lake Wales area. He died there, but I never saw him after he left Archie. He left and was working for Tower Comics, and did stuff like Tippy Teen. Samm Schwartz also went with him. Samm was the editor there. Harry called me and asked me to do Little Tippy, but I refused. I hadn’t been with Archie that long and I liked Harry and didn’t want to refuse him, but I didn’t want to work for both. Harry also did the comic strip There Outta’ Be A Law. He was a good writer. He was sort of old-fashioned, but he knew story and knew structure. You see, we don’t have artists or writers in charge today. Unfortunately. CBA: Anything else you’d like to do? Bob: I’d like to teach. One time, I taught a class and I didn’t want to do it. I’m introverted and nervous talking to people, and it was a three-hour class. I wondered what I was going to do. But, you know, after three hours, I wasn’t even finished. I was going to do an inking demonstration, but I never got the chance, and after I taught that class, I kept thinking about things I could do better, so I kind of think I’d like to do something like that. Do some teaching — I mean, I’ve got all these years of experience that I can pass on to somebody. Stuff that you can only get through trial and error over years. CBA: So, have I overlooked something that you anticipated? Bob: Well, there is something I want to say: Working for Archie, they always paid and they always paid on time. You submitted work and you knew when you were going to get a check. I’ve worked for advertising agencies that paid late. In fact, when I went back to work for Archie, I had one agency that owed me nearly $1,000 and I never got it. But Archie always paid — through thick and thin. Even back to December 1954 when I was only… umm… nine years old.

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Bob Bolling,Painter Several years ago, Bob Bolling begin painting while also writing and drawing stories for Archie Comics. He has done a number of nature and landscape paintings, in addition to a series featuring a flying dragon and a wild woman enjoying jokes and drinks in a bar. Bob’s paintings are for sale. For information, contact: Gary Brown, 2074 Polo Gardens Drive, #206, Wellington, FL 33414 or e-mail: garyb98294@aol.com

TOP: (Clockwise from left) Bob painting in his Florida studio; Bob stands before one of his series of paintings about a woman and her dragon; Bob beside his 1967 Ford Mustang Fastback he bought (almost new) in ’67. The car remains in cherry condition! All photos by and courtesy of Gary Brown.

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no Little Archie retrospective would be complete without a chat with the “other” great artist on that series, Dexter Taylor. Following creator Bob Bolling was no easy task, but Dexter made a superb impression. CBA interviewed the artist on June 22, 2002.

Comic Book Artist: When and where were you born? Dexter Taylor: I was born January 1931, in Canada. Brantford, Ontario. CBA: What about your parents? Dexter: My father had graduated from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, though he couldn’t get a job at first, but he eventually found a job in Canada. When World War Two broke out, I was just a kid, and my mother didn’t want to stay in Canada, since they both were Americans, so we moved back to Massachusetts. I did a lot of moving as a kid. My father would get a job and that would end, so he’d get another job and we’d move. CBA: When did you discover you had a talent for drawing? Dexter: It was in first grade. I knew I liked drawing. I’d meet new kids and make friends, but then we’d move again, so I think I sort of turned inward and spent more time drawing. I drew for anything to do with school — the school newspapers, the town newspapers — I’d just draw as much as I could. I mean, as much as they would accept my work. CBA: In growing up, what sort of comic books and comic strips did you enjoy? Dexter: Oh yes, I had great appreciation for Flash Gordon by Alex Raymond. In Canada they led the comics pages with King of the Royal Mounties, I liked that. And of course, I was always a Carl Barks fan. I don’t know if he did all of the Donald Duck books I read, but I always liked his stuff. And I was a fan of Little Lulu by John Stanley, too. CBA: After high school, what sort of training or schooling did you have? Dexter: I went to the same school Bob Bolling went to, Vesper George. As far as I am concerned, it didn’t help me that much in cartooning. But what really helped me in cartooning was when I got the job at Archie and I started meeting all these guys there. I thought I was a good cartoonist before I got the job at Archie, but when I got there, I found people there who were very, very good. CBA: I guess working at Archie was on-the-job training? Dexter: Yes, on-the-job training, that’s right. CBA: Vesper George was in Boston? Dexter: That’s right, I think it went out of business sometime in the early 1970s, but at the time I went to it, it was booming. All the veterans were back from World War Two and going to school on the G.I. Bill. And boy, were they good! I was just out of high school because it was several years after the war and when I saw some of the work they were producing, I thought, “Jeez, I’ll never get a job.” And they used to periodically announce that only about 10 percent of all

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ABOVE: Recent photo of Dexter Taylor taken by Gary Brown.

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