Comic Book Artist (Vol. 2) #4 by TwoMorrows Publishing

Captain Fear '2004 DC?Comics

DEPARTMENTS Ye Ed’s Rant Back from the Abyss 4 Knowles Knows Comic Books as Counter-Culture 6 Khoury’s Corner On George’s latest book, True Brit 8 10 McGregor’s Riding Shotgun Pop Culture Irving on the Inside Tony Millionaire’s Sock Monkey 14 Comic Book Chit-Chat Will Power: The Brothers Cooke documentary on Eisner 15 By GUM! There’s a new magazine to chew on 17 Grocery Bagge: Peter’s “Batboy” in Weekly World News 18 Paul Gravett interview on Manga: 60 Years of Japanese Comics 19 Backstory: Fred Hembeck Destroys the Marvel Universe 21 Alexa the Great: A rising star emerges from the Kitchen clan 27 A Touch of Class: A chat with publisher Manuel Auad 31 39 Fred Hembeck Dateline: @*!?# To Be Continued… What’s coming & Chris Irving bio 112

FEATURES Tony DeZuñiga Hex and Other Blessings 40

Shaun Clancy chats with the first artist of the “Filipino Wave”

Alex Niño The Fearless Artist 49

40 49 55

The brilliant visionary creator on early days in the old country, hitting it big in the States, and a career beyond comic books

Comic Book Artist Klasik 55 Filipino Komiks color cover collection 54 The Philippine Question: Ye Ed on the ’70s Artist Invasion 57 Context: A Brief History and Overview of the Philippines 58 A-Z A Guide to the Filipino Comic Book Artists 60

David A. Roach gives a Who’s Who of Philippine Artists in U.S. Comics

Filipino Komiks A History by John A. Lent 74 The noted comics scholar provides a look at the home-grown comics COMIC BOOK ARTIST™ is published as often as possible 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. Subscriptions are currently unavailable. 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: Captain Fear ©2004 DC Comics. Art ©2004 Alex Niño. First Printing. PRINTED IN CANADA.

Ye Ed’s Rant Back From the Abyss …and into a pretty darn hopeful world o’ funny books, all things considered

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Blame it on Will Eisner. Or, more correctly, my younger brother and frequent collaborator, Andrew D. Cooke. Ye Ed has had a pretty rough spring and early summer, beset with personal concerns and a decidedly bleak mood, and I’ve… well, I wasn’t available to hardly anyone in the comics world for an extended period, a time when the magazine fell behind (sorry, patient readers) and the future was looking a bit murky for yours truly. Honestly, a good part of it was perhaps an overly sensitive preoccupation with the “real world,” being riveted by the events of an increasingly angry and violent globe, wrapped up in the news of the moment coming out of Iraq and Washington, D.C., things having (on the surface) very little to do with our insular world of funnybooks. Again, as in the case of the immediate aftermath of 9/11, comics were losing a sense of personal relevance for me and, yeah, I was a bit depressed about that and, as well as, a burden of pressures from other areas in my life. But a fog has lifted, I’m back in the saddle, and determined to make an impact in the field I love best, focused on doing what I most likely do best: making magazines and books devoted to the examination and history of sequential art. Now, this doesn’t mean I’m turning a blind eye to the Big Issues facing this nation or ignoring the crippling polarization so prevalent these days. Nah, I’m as politically active today as I was in my college years, but I realize you can’t allow events to paralyze and lead a person to despair. Plain and simple, we gotta have hope…. Much as I’m inclined to use this magazine to pontificate on my own personal political outlook, I’ll just keep it general, on a lofty plane. Suffice to say I hope, as a nation — the most powerful on Earth — that we reflect on those seemingly-lost virtues of compassion, mercy and humility. That we examine any collective impulses of selfishness — arrogance, sense of entitlement, blissful ignorance and greed — and temper them with a little-used code of behavior called the Golden Rule. We need to accept the fundamental truth that hate only begets more hate, violence more violence, death just more death. The temptations of rampant consumerism, at the expense of our neighbors and our globe, need to be kept in check, and maybe — just maybe — there will be hope for us yet… End rant. Anyhoo, while I do appeal to all U.S. readers

to vote early — and often — in the upcoming Presidential elections, I’ll ease off the political rhetoric here and come back to the matter at hand: comic books and those who make ’em, and my own return to the fold… Like I began to say, it was my brother Andy’s fault… Y’see, as you’ll find in the lead feature in CBA’s “Comic Book Chit-Chat” section this ish, my sibling and I are involved in another collaboration (our second after working to entice film industry interest in our comic-book property, Prime8™: Evolution… Hollywood, take note!), a TV documentary on the life Will Eisner, the most

important practicioner of sequential art in the history of form. Sure, part of our motive is to parlay such a worthy endeavor into a continuing partnership, one that just might lead to success in motion pictures, but most of all, it’s an effort by two guys — along with a talented and eager film crew — to see a truly extraordinary artist receive some measure of recognition in his lifetime from the world at large. And, besides that, Will is a wonderful and generous dude, okay? Thus, Andy kicked me in the keester, told me to stop moping, and insisted that I attend Comic-Con International: San Diego 2004 with the aforementioned film crew… To be back in the perfect climate of Southern California was initially a slightly nervewracking experience, given my reluctance to “face the world,” but my state o’ mind improved considerably as the documentary filming progressed swimmingly. Certainly one highpoint was to win CBA’s third Eisner Award for “Best Comics-Related Periodical,” a shocking announcement, to say the least! (And to have Will Eisner, there on stage, be the first to shake my hand upon receiving such an honor is… well, kismet.) My gratitude goes to all who voted CBA this much appreciated trophy (which — check it out! — ain’t merely a plaque anymore!) Ultimately though, it was Howard Chaykin and Eddie Campbell, two superb comics creators whom I hold in the highest esteem as artists and human beings, who separately made me realize the importance of friends in this wild ’n’ crazy business. Howard (to be cover-featured next issue) encountered me in the main foyer outside the show, wagged a finger at me, and said, “If you treat other people as badly as you’ve been treating yourself, you wouldn’t have any friends. You still have friends, Jon. So straighten up.” Eddie took the time to seek me out afterhours at the Con and related to me the story of his own year-long “disappearance” from the world of comics, a period when he turned off the phone, shutdown e-mail, and closed his postal box. Eddie recited, from memory, the opening paragraph of his upcoming autobiographical graphic “novel,” sharing sentiments I intensely identify with. Such kindness I’ll never forget, E.C. So, I’m sorry for the delay and hope this is worth the wait. Me, I’m back to the grindstone! — Jon B. Cooke, Ye Editor.

ABOVE: Sah-weet! A plaque no more, the Will Eisner Comics Industry Awards are now given out in the form of bona fide trophies. Yep, the globe spins and everything! CBA thanks all the readers and voters who supported the mag for the “Best Comics-Related Periodical” distinction, presented at this past July’s International Comic-Con: San Diego. Kudos to Gentle Giant Studios who designed and manufactured the new snazzy Daily Planet version!

greats; so I decided to cover the gamut of the artists who I decreed most important, and best represented this history we were writing about. These were the artists chosen: Leo Baxendale, Frank Bellamy, Brian Bolland, Mark Buckingham, John M. Burns, Alan Davis, Ron Embleton, Hunt Emerson, Dave Gibbons, Frank Hampson, Bryan Hitch, Syd Jordan, Don Lawrence, David Lloyd, Dave McKean, Mike Noble, Kevin O’Neill, Frank Quitely, Ken Reid, Bryan Talbot and Barry Windsor-Smith. Along with other contributors to the book, I made an effort to interview as many living artists as possible, to capture each one’s story and feelings regarding their heritage (and for those deceased, feature profiles filled with the appropriate respect and sincere admiration). Above all, I enjoy working with my friends — and everyone who made a contribution in this book is a friend. I don’t think I could have done True Brit if that wasn’t the case. It’s important for me to know who I’m working with, and I’ve toiled with good people, people of substance, so I’m very proud of everyone who lent a hand. Those appendages belong to old friends like Jon B. Cooke (that’s right, Ye Ed found time to interview Hunt Emerson and Bryan Hitch)

and Eric Nolen-Weathington, as well as new friends from “across the pond”: Brian “Duke” Boyanksi, Norman Boyd, Paul Holder and Peter Hansen. Fellow CBA editor David A. Roach was

my Yoda, my spiritual encyclopedia of the entire 100-plus-year history of British comics, and has been one of the top artists in U.K. funnybooks for close to 20 years. DAR spoke to me for many hours over the last year, and wrote the important — and exhaustive — historical exposition that opens the volume. No one was more important in making this book than Mr. Roach, who always — and unerringly — pointed me in the right direction. So, in closing, why would a Yank like me one from the armpit of the United States (that’s New Jersey), write and edit a book on comic creators of the British Isles? Because I wondered why there were so many great artists coming from the same place, and I think, with this book, we discovered a beautiful kinship that crosses generations of different artists. As I say in my preface, “This tome is recognition for every British artist (past, present, and future) for a rich heritage that I hope will never be forgotten.” I trust these sentiments are apparent whether you’re just browsing or doing us the courtesy of actually buying the book.

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True Brit. Edited by George Khoury. TwoMorrows, $21.95. ISBN #1-893905-33-0

Don Lawrence Peter Hansen on the career and passing of the great British comic book artist BY PETER HANSEN It is with great sadness that we report the death of longtime British comic artist Don Lawrence this past year. Born in East Sheen, London, in November 1928 — the youngest of three children — he attended St. Paul’s School (Hammersmith) until he was evacuated during the World War Two. Beginning in 1949, after completing his National Service, Don studied art at Borough Polytechnic for four years. On finishing his studies, Don discovered comics and, after an unsuccessful attempt to work at the giant Amalgamated Press comics group, he joined Gower Studio (run by Mick Anglo) where Marvelman, Britain’s only weekly super-hero comic, was being produced (for L. Miller and Sons, Ltd.). During this period, he continued to demonstrate his versatility by producing a number of cowboy strips for Miller, including “Daniel Boone” and “Wyatt Earp.” Don worked on the Marvelman

family strips for almost four years, gaining invaluable knowledge and technical skills. In 1958, at last, he made a breakthrough into the big league at Odhams Press, where he drew “Wells Fargo” in Zip, and at Amalgamated Press, drawing the hugely successful “Karl the Viking” in Lion, as well as Western genre comics work in the Sun Weekly. Don’s adventure strip work continued with other publishers, where he produced classic strips, such as “Tarzan” (TV Tornado), “Wrath of the Gods” (Boys’ World), “Blackbow the Cheyenne,” and “Olac the Gladiator.” Along the way, he illustrated several comic stories written by Michael Moorcock in the Lion, Tiger and Valiant comics of the 1960s, as well as “Joe 90,” “Thunderbirds,” “Fireball XL5,” and a host of other minor strips for other scribes. By far, Don’s greatest accomplishment as a British comic artist was his run on the brilliant “Trigan Empire” series, which debuted on Sept. 18, 1965, in The Ranger (published by Fleetway Publications), and later moved into the pages of Look and Learn. This series achieved cult status during its 11-year weekly run, and a number of these strips have been reprinted in three separate books.

In 1973, Lawrence again demonstrated his versatility when he began producing the “Carrie” strip for the British adult magazine Mayfair (a risque entry along the lines of Penthouse’s “Oh, Wicked Wanda”) By far, his own most popular work were the “Storm” books, produced initially for the Dutch market before being partially reprinted in two English editions by Titan Books in the U.K. The “Storm” series was an enormous hit in Holland resulting in Lawrence becoming a celebrity, complete with his own fan club and constant invitations to comic conventions (ironically, something that never really happened in his native country). Widely respected and an acknowledged influence on such artists as Dave Gibbons, Kevin O’Neill, and many other well-known contemporary British artists, Don Lawrence was one of the last links to the great British comic illustrators of the last half-century, and his passing will be mourned by many fans around the world.

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TOP: Ragged cover of Countdown #1 (Feb. 20, 1971), one of Ye Ed’s most treasured Brit comic books. ©1971 Polystyle Publications Ltd. ABOVE: Karl the Viking illo (left) and unused Western panel, both by legendary Brit artist Don Lawrence. Courtesy of Peter Hansen. ©2004 the respective copyright holders.

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Don McGregor’s Riding Shotgun Full-Circle Pop Culture From comic book mythology to television series mythology… and back again

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BY DON MCGREGOR Sometimes, things really do seem to come full-circle. It’s not just a storytelling device that can give a sense of dramatic fulfillment, a bringing together of disparate people, places and events, in the midst of chaos, to make a satisfying whole; it also occurs in real life, and can have just as satisfying an impact as fiction. In this specific full-circle circumstance, I am referring to Joss Whedon and J. Michael Straczynski, and the influence of — and passion for — comics to their collective TV series, and back to the medium both acknowledge they love. Both Whedon and Straczynski have brought the continuity of mythology and the journeys of characters’ lives over a vast periods of time, once the prime domain of the comics medium, since the 1960s, to their respective television series. Straczynski’s Babylon 5 and Whedon’s trio of shows — Buffy, the Vampire Slayer; Angel and Firefly — are all wonderful, more or less weekly, TV series which seized upon the idea of epic mythologies filled with iconic characters, all told in a episodic and periodic format. Comics were formally the primary domain for that kind of storytelling, though their release schedule was seldom weekly, but normally monthly or bi-monthly (occasionally as statically released comic series). A serial dose of words&- pictures on the printed page, with each unfolding issue capable of shaking up the status quo. That long wait between issues. Who knew what could happen to those characters next? And, curiously, as the comics medium continues to struggle with whether they should keep continuity or abandon or revise it, some TV, and even movies, have come to embrace the concept. Even more curiously, as many comics creators look to Hollywood to option their comic creations as TV series or movie franchises (in other words, to give ’em their big break in La-La Land, and maybe financial salvation), Whedon and Straczynski have traveled in the opposite direction, coming back to a medium they have both said many times influenced and inspired each as a storyteller. Comics to film to comics. So much talent in comics has always been passionate about film, and just as many filmmakers have reveled in comic books. I have always loved books and comics and

films. I was working on film projects and novels before I ever wrote comics. From my first regular comics series for Marvel, in the early 1970s, to my first graphic novels, Sabre (written in 1976-77) and Detectives, Inc. (’69, in a rare, seldom-seen edition, and ’81, from Eclipse), I wanted to give my readers stories that meant something to me, with characters the audience hopefully would come to care passionately about, something both Whedon and Straczynski do consistently in their medium of dramatic television.

These days, those first editions of Sabre and Detectives, Inc. would, in television terminology, be considered pilot episodes for proposed shows. Oh, I never thought of the books in those terms, although I certainly saw each in my head as their own continuing series. I had conceived of at least ten plot-lines for Detectives, Inc. before finishing the first one in 1969. Conceptually, I had seen that series as not just rooted in the mystery genre, but also capable of encompassing any genre I desired. For instance, I had at least one that was a straight-out fantasy horror motif. Another example: Roundtable Gladiators took place during an all-night game of cards, with visuals swirling about various players, as the night goes on and stakes raise higher, to culminate with early morn revelations. I also had a story that was completely mainstream, with no murders, no crimes to solve, per se, and Denning and Rainier — the stars of the series! — make only a walk-on appearance (somewhat like, say, what Will Eisner did many times with The Spirit, though my approach wasn’t inspired by that strip, as I hadn’t read enough of that comic at that time for Eisner to be an influence). I hadn’t even completed the first Detectives, Inc., and I was already envisioning where I thought series could go, hopefully keeping myself open to new possibilities, if I actually got the chance to do new stories with Denning and Rainier. I imagined the major events that had shaped and changed their lives before the reader would first meet them. I also conceived of those smaller, unexpected, defining incidents which would reveal who they were, ideas that would come at the very moment I was scripting a certain scene. For all the forethought involved in writing, sometimes, in the midst of putting pen to paper, revelations of character come to mind so quickly and ferociously that they become real and undeniably true. I never thought in the defining terminology of today, that popular culture parlance anyone who even half-heartedly follows what’s going on in movies and TV knows to some degree. For example, I never thought of “story arcs” (a term, I believe, that gained popularity when Stephen J. Cannell’s weekly TV series, Wiseguy, initiated the long-form narrative in that medium). When I began the first series I wrote for Marvel Comics, “The Black Panther,” I thought of character and theme, and where I believed a scene would most effectively work. I knew, for instance, that

Alexa the Great! From out of the Massachusetts wood comes the latest from the Kitchen clan Just what was the talk of the MoCCA festival this past June? At the annual fund-raising event benefiting New York City’s Museum of Comics and Cartoon, was the buzz about cracker-jack guests Chester Brown, Seth and Adrian Tomine, or the surprise appearance of fast-rising alt cartoonist Craig Thompson? Maybe the attendance of New Yorker regular Roz Chast or the release of Eric Shanower’s Age of Bronze: Sacrifice volume? Well, according to Publishers Weekly’s Douglas Wolk and Comics Buyer’s Guide columnist Heidi MacDonald, the highlight of the show was the debut of sixyear-old cartoonist Alexa Kitchen, daughter of longtime publisher (and himself a notable underground comix artist) Denis Kitchen! Alexa released her first sketchbooks, The Early Years, Vol. 1 and 2, at the Manhattan gathering, and Heidi tells CBG, “Everyone was pretty flabbergasted by Alexa’s work. Not only does she write and letter all her own work… but she has an eye for detail and composition that many grown artists can barely match.” Father Denis, mother Stacey, and Alexa agreed to talk with CBA about the talented girl’s big time debut in recent e-mail chats. First up, a Q&A with the recently-turned seven-year-old.— Ye Ed. Comic Book Artist: Alexa, how long have you been drawing? Alexa Kitchen: Probably since I was two or three. CBA: Is it fun? Alexa: Yes! I just love to do it. I love to get my hands on that pen! Always! CBA: Do you like comics? Alexa: Yes! CBA: What are some of your favorite comic books and comic strips? Alexa: Calvin & Hobbes, Powerpuff Girls, and Nancy. Little Lulu, too. CBA: Do you have favorite artists? Alexa: Bill Watterson and Ernie Bushmiller. They do good work. CBA: What happened at the MoCCA show? Alexa: Lots of people came to my table and looked at my books. They complimented my drawings, and I felt good about that. CBA: How many sketchbooks have you done? Alexa: Too many to count! CBA: Do you wish your dad drew more? Alexa: I like it when he draws when he wants to. CBA: Do you like his artwork? Alexa: Yes! He’s the best artist in the house! CBA: Does your mom draw? Alexa: Not that much. CBA: Has your dad taught you about comics? Alexa: That’s a hard one. I guess so. He pulls interesting books from his library for me.

Alexa: No! I just love it so much. I love to have my hand on that pen! It makes me feel good. I feel sad sometimes when I can’t draw. CBA: What other things do you like to do? Alexa: Computer games, running and bouncing, building stuff, and telling stories… Five things. That’s enough. CBA: What’s in the future, Alexa? Alexa: I don’t know. That’s hard. Sometimes I like to do comics for myself. But sometimes I like to do it for the public, too. CBA: Do you want to be a famous cartoonist? Alexa: Yes and no… Maybe! I don’t know what’s in my future. I might want to be a singer, but I think being a cartoonist is a neat idea. Next up, we grill Alexa’s parents, Denis and Stacey, about the real girl behind the work.

CBA: Some of your strips features a cat named “Denis.” Do you really have a cat with that name? Alexa: No, I don’t have any cats. CBA: Is that cat really your dad? Alexa: No, Denis is just the cat’s name. He’s more related to the character Garfield. That’s where I got the idea from. CBA: How many sketchbooks have you sold? Alexa: A lot! CBA: Have other people been contacting you about your artwork? Alexa: A few have. Mark Schultz sent me a letter last week. He’s so sweet. Patrick [McDonnell] who does [the daily comic strip] Mutts sent me one of his books. An editor at Dark Horse has been very nice to me. Oh, and Will Eisner, too. He’s so nice. I can’t remember the others right now. CBA: Is there anything you want CBA readers to know about you? Alexa: Tell them that I’m only seven. And that I think I’ll get better as an artist. CBA: What are you thinking when you draw your strips? Alexa: I do the picture first, then I add the words. As I go along, I think of more to put in the strip. CBA: Will you ever stop drawing?

CBA: When did you first realize Alexa had such drawing talent? Denis: When she was just two, she drew a very recognizable ladybug on one of those crude “Magna Doodle” boards that some kids have. I remember turning to Stacey and saying, “Look at this!” We saved many of her drawings from ages three and four that are indicative of early talent. But at five, she suddenly began — on her own — doing graphic narratives. That’s when I really raised an eyebrow. She’s been on an accelerated pace ever since. Stacey: She’s been interested in books for as long as her little hands could hold them — illustrated children’s books and comic books. I think her love of the way the combined images and text could move her as a reader inspired her to create her own. She’s been drawing since the

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Comic Book Chit-Chat

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age of three with a fine point black pen, but it wasn’t until age five that I — as a “non comic book person” — really started to notice the eye she had for putting together her ideas. There was one thing that stood out from the beginning that made her different from other children who love to draw: Alexa never really wanted to color in other people’s lines (as in coloring books). She always wanted to create her own lines. Furthermore, even from the earliest doodles, Alexa rarely drew static “pictures” (i.e., girl standing next to rainbow). Alexa always tried to tell stories with her images. The comic-book medium was a perfect outlet for her. CBA: What do you think of Alexa’s budding success? Stacey: I wouldn’t use the word “success.” Alexa doesn’t seem to draw for recognition. She seems to have an embedded need to create. She draws for hours on end when ideas hit her or when she feels the urge to put pen to paper. Denis and I really aren’t allowed to see her work until either she finishes and sometimes shares a page or story, or until she retreats to bed and we

secretly go through her enormous piles of “mistake” papers, which nest all over our home. Alexa draws purely for her own pleasure. She is completely unaffected by what others think of her work or any fuss that’s made over her ability. Denis: We are certainly proud and are her biggest fans. But we’re also cautious.Stacey was a child star in the country music business, recording songs and performing on stage at five. So Stacey knows firsthand the ups and downs of an early spotlight, the dangers of being a stage mother, and so forth. But Alexa has a true passion for drawing, so for now we’re letting her take the lead. The running joke is that she’ll decide tomorrow to be a ballerina, and that’s absolutely fine with us. But, thus far — God help us! — she wants to be a cartoonist! CBA: Any anecdotes to share about your daughter and reactions to her work? Denis: After I booked three exhibit tables at the recent MoCCA show, I gave Alexa a half-table to display sample binders of her originals, and we had Xeroxes of representative samples spiralbound. When I told her other artists at the show

would be selling sketches, she said she might if she was “in the mood.” So her sign on the table said, “Sketches, if I’m in the mood, $2 small, $4 large.” She made $118 in sketches plus several hundred dollars more from personalized books. Apparently, there was a buzz on the floor. Professionals, in particular, kept coming over because someone else sent them so they could “see for themselves” what this six-year old was doing. We watched a steady procession of pros do double-takes as she drew for them. Diana Schutz at Dark Horse signed her up, on the spot, for two pages in an upcoming anthology. A couple weeks later, I read in Publishers Weekly that she was “the talk of the show.” I don’t think I made it into PW ‘til I was 35! Stacey: Everyone has been unbelievably supportive of Alexa, from family and friends, to professional creators. The buzz since MoCCA in June has been really kind of a surprise. CBA: Has Alexa shown talent at other things, as well? Stacey: Yes and no. Alexa learned to read at age four, so she has a strong sense of language. For her age, she has an amazing knack for spelling and the use of words. For about a year (age five-and-a-half to six-and-a-half), she carried around two very large books: a children’s dictionary and a world atlas. She was obsessed with learning the various meanings of words, and with maps and geography. She was the only fiveyear-old I knew who could tell you the capitals of all 50 states — and a great number of countries, as well. She was also probably the only child last year at the San Diego Zoo more excited about the “you are here” maps than with the animals on display. She actually made me leave the zoo after being there only an hour-and-a-half so that she could go back to the hotel and work on her Encyclopedia of Dog Breeds book. I didn’t even get to see the panda bears! (Sigh.) But, as far as other areas, Alexa is a pretty normal little girl. She loves animated cartoons, computer games, playing dress-up, and hates to clean her room. Denis: Her communication skills, in general, are well above the curve. She reads voraciously. But, in every other respect, she’s a normal little girl. CBA: Do you perceive influences by other artists in her work, Denis? Denis: Alexa reads a wide variety of comics, thanks, in part, to a large library of material here. In particular, she seems influenced by John Stanley’s Little Lulu and Jim Davis’ Garfield. She also loves Calvin and Hobbes. Just recently, she discovered Tin Tin on my shelf and, the next day, she compiled a want-list of missing volumes from a back cover ad! CBA: What’s your creative experience, Stacey? Stacey: I have a musical background. I started singing and performing on stage at the age of three and, by age six, had cut my first professional demo in a recording studio. I spent most of my childhood in musical theater, and singing across

TOP: Great Denis the Cat strip by Alexa Kitchen. The girl cartoonist tells us that Denis — a slothful, gluttonous feline always on the prowl for mischief — is not based on her father of the same name, but rather inspired by Jim Davis’s Garfield comic strip. Courtesy of Denis Kitchen. ©2004 Alexa Kitchen.

A Touch of Class Manuel Auad on his Eisner Award-winning publishing imprint & love of comics BY JON B. COOKE/TRANSCRIBED BY STEVEN TICE As mentioned on page two of this issue, Ye Ed and our next subject go back a ways, and Manuel’s participation was essential in the planning and execution of this special Filipino issue of CBA. But, most importantly, the gentleman is a discriminating publisher of fine books on some of the greatest comic book artists of this or any other age, including the Eisner Awardwinning Alex Toth (technically published by Kitchen Sink in 1994, but Manuel served as editor and compiler). The following phone interview took place on February 26, 2004. Comic Book Artist: Where are you from, Manuel? Manuel Auad: Well, I was born in 1935, in Beirut, Lebanon. When I was only two years old, we left that country. My mother is Spanish, and on my mother’s side, my grandparents were from Spain, and somehow, many years ago, they migrated to the Philippines, and thus my mother was born here. CBA: How did she meet your father? Manuel: He had a haberdashery in the Philippines, and that’s where she met him. They got married over there. A few years later, they moved to Beirut, my father’s home. I guess the marriage didn’t work out and my mother moved back to the Philippines. My mother didn’t speak about it very often, so I didn’t really know too much. I hardly know anything about my father. We went to an island called Cebu, and that’s where I spent the war years. We were there during the Japanese occupation, of course. CBA: Well, what was the occupation like? Manuel: It was no picnic. I was six years old when the war broke out and about nine by the time it was over. What I remember is that there was never enough to eat. We had a vegetable garden in the backyard. Towards the end of the war, the Americans were taking one island after another from the Japanese (there are hundreds, thousands of islands in the Philippines). There was no electricity, no running water, during all those years through the war. It’s almost like time stood still. Nothing. You lived with just candles, making your own entertainment. You’d make shadow figures on the walls to entertain yourself. Or you’d

play a lot of checkers. Once in a while, we’d be looking at a magazine, and the worst part was you’d see an ad for a Betty Crocker mix, a beautiful picture of cake with the icing on it and all that, and we’d be drooling over it. [laughter] At one point, the Japanese told us that the Americans would be arriving any day now to take over our island, so the Japanese decided to not leave anybody alive. First, they burned the city down — all the houses and buildings — and, of course, at that time, there were no fire engines or anything like that. You weren’t allowed to even try

and put the fire out, because, if you did, they would shoot you. The plan was to scorch the whole city and, the next day, kill the remaining people still standing. I remember the following day the city was smoldering. There weren’t that many families left in the city. It wasn’t a very big island. But soon we started to hear shots. You see, they started killing at the waterfront, moving from one side of the city, just sweeping along the way, shooting people. We could hear the shots getting closer and closer. You could hear a lot of screaming and crying. There were no atheists

then.We were all shaking. There was no place to hide. Our house was just a pile of smoldering cinders. But then, in the nick of time somehow, the American G.I.s arrived, and suddenly all the Japanese jumped into their trucks and started taking off for the hills.,That’s the first time we saw a jeep. [laughter] Of course, we had never seen Americans before. So they just came marching down the street, offering us candy — Hershey bars — and that’s something I’ll always remember. CBA: Were such atrocities common for the Japanese? Did they do that on a lot of islands? Manuel: Basically, yes. CBA: What were they trying to cover up? Or was it just malice? Manuel: It was just malice. CBA: It wasn’t necessarily like the Nazis, who were trying to cover up the Holocaust? Manuel: Oh, no. It was just for spite and malice. Believe you me, we had just as many, just as bad, just as horrible atrocities committed in the Pacific as there were in the European theatre, which nobody seems to talk about too much. CBA: Now, when you first came to the Philippines, did you have an agrarian upbringing? Was it middle class? Manuel: It was middle class. Spanish was still a language very much spoken, at that time. The Philippines had been a colony of Spain for 300 years, so most of the Filipinos still spoke Spanish, at that time. Of course, I am talking about before the war. CBA: Now, was there a concerted effort to eradicate Spanish as a language from the Philippines? You said, “This was before the war…” What happened after the war? Manuel: After the war, English, more or less, took over as the secondary language. Naturally, all the movies were in English. All the magazines and newspapers are in English. You learn English in school. You spoke Filipino — Tagalog — among your friends. I spoke Spanish with my family and, in school, I spoke English. So the idea of eradicating the Spanish names, like the street names, especially, came during the [Filipino “President-For-Life” Ferdinand] Marcos era [1965-86]. He wanted to get really nationalistic, I suppose, so Marcos changed the names of many things. On the street where we used to live, that name no longer exists; it was changed to a Filipino name.

ABOVE: Mid-1970s shot of Manuel Auad, courtesy of the man himself.\

31 CBA V.2 #4

Comic Book Chit-Chat

32 CBA V.2 #4

CBA: When you were going to school, were they teaching Spanish in school at the time? Manuel: Yes. CBA: That practice stopped by the ’50s or ’60s? Manuel: I think that stopped by 1950. CBA: So you read English? Manuel: Yes. I went to grade school in Cebu, a little island, during the war. One of the subjects we were taught was Japanese. Every morning before class, they would play the Japanese national anthem, raising the Imperial flag in the schoolyard. We were taught how to count in Japanese and that sort of thing. CBA: The occupiers, were they loathed? Did you guys hate them? Manuel: We were in fear of them, because you never knew… They had a sentry every three or four blocks. If you’re going past them, you had to stand in front of them and bow. If he’s not happy with the way you bowed, he’d give you the butt of his rifle right on the head. CBA: Ooh! Which could kill you, right? Manuel: Oh, yes! You would have to say “Kumbawa” or “Tomadachi,” which means

“friend.” “Kumbawa” is like “good morning,” “good evening.” You’d bow your head as low as you can until they gave the sign for you to go along. CBA: Did you see much violence and death as a kid? Manuel: One time, we were walking down the street and there was a sudden commotion in the marketplace. I was maybe seven years old. Suddenly, we see this poor man, a Filipino, running for his life, all bloody. Of course, Japanese soldiers came running behind him. I don’t know if he got away or what happened, but the sight of this man running all bloody was enough to scare the hell out of a boy my age. You have to remember, these were my formative years. But, after the war, in 1945, that’s when we moved to Manila, because my grandparents had a house there. CBA: Now, were there any long-term effects, being so young under a culture of such brutality? I don’t think it’s imaginable for an average American to comprehend the fear. Would you dream about those days, for instance?

Manuel: No, not me. I didn’t have that. Right after the war, when I was nine years old, I had a toy plane and was making the sound of a plane engine — like any kid would — and my grandfather would say, “Don’t do that!” Somehow just the sound would remind them of the bad times. The thing that sticks in my mind was the fire. There were always fires. Houses were always being burned, including ours. And there was nothing we could do about it. CBA: So the Japanese used fire as a weapon? Manuel: Yes. CBA: Man. So the liberation was when? Manuel: Let’s see: On February 3, 1945, my birthday, we received the news that the American invasion had begun. That’s when we knew they were coming. So I guess a couple of months later we were liberated. That’s a feeling that nobody’s ever going to be able to relate! There’s just no way to adequately describe the liberation. CBA: Now, what was the situation with comics in the ’30s, prior to the war? Manuel: It was the Sunday funnies, mostly. CBA: They reprinted American strips? Manuel: Yes. You had the old standbys: Prince Valiant, Tarzan, those kinds of things. Barney Google. The comic strips of the ’30s. CBA: Did you see them? Manuel: I can’t say that I did, because I was only six years old when the war broke out. Then everything American stopped, there was nothing. CBA: Right, but you grew older. Manuel: Yes, and, of course, right after the war, we moved to Manila right away, where comic books were being imported again. CBA: So these were American editions you saw? Manuel: Yes. CBA: What was the first comic you remember seeing? Manuel: I think it was called Sparkler Comics. I also remember Black Hood, Airboy Comics, Jungle Comics…. CBA: Do you remember the super-heroes?

TOP: Introductory page of Magic Carpet #1 (Comics & Comix Co., 1977), drawn by the great Alfredo Alcala, and featuring the artist, and issue writers Manuel Auad and Bill Blackbeard. ABOVE RIGHT: The cover of that magazine.

…and other

blessings

TONY DeZUNIGA T H E

C B A

I N T E R V I E W

Tony DeZuñiga exploded on the scene at DC Comics in the early 1970s — the first of the tsunami of Filipino artists to arrive in the U.S. — most significantly as co-creator and artist of Jonah Hex, the “Weird Western” anti-hero. He also contributed significantly to Marvel Comics and long worked as a visual designer for computer gaming. Tony copy-edited this phone interview. Tony: Most letterers put a light pencil-line before starting to letter, but Alex just gets the pen, writes it directly onto the paper, and that’s it! Shaun: How’d you get involved in comics? Tony: Well, I was very young then. I was maybe 16. They had a lot of local comic book publishers on the islands, because they come out weekly. That’s how good the business was. But I was really very, very fresh, very amateurish in those years. There was an outfit that published a magazine that came out weekly in, oh my God, something like six different languages, and each one had to be translated, so all the word balloons had to be changed! So they asked me if I wanted to do lettering. I said, “Oh yeah, sure!” So I started doing that, and that’s how my career in comics began. I met a lot of artists who had already started in the business, like Alfredo Alcala and Nestor Redondo. They kept telling me, “Don’t get discouraged, Tony. Just keep practicing until you’re ready, and you’ll find out, sooner or later, and you’ll know when you’re ready. And then, that’s it! It’s as simple as that.” Shaun: You were friends with Nestor Redondo? Tony: Yes, as well as with Alfredo Alcala. These were the guys who really encouraged me.

Shaun: Were they already doing some work for American comics when they were encouraging you? Tony: No, this was in the early 1960s. At that time, some of them had tried getting work in America, but the distance between the countries was just too great. The answer they got was, “It’s really hard to give you work because you’re so far away.” There was no express mail service then, no DHL. So that was the problem. As I said, I went to school in New York, then went back to the islands and worked for three years in advertising. But I got bored doing that kind of work. I said, “Ink is in my blood, so I gotta get back to drawing!” Then I went back to New York and made an appointment with Joe Orlando at DC Comics, one of the editors there. I walked into his office and said, “Look at my work.” He said, “Well, Tony, if you really did this work, I don’t see any problem with you starting on a script right away. You just have to make sure, when you work on a script, that your work will be the very highest quality work, matching what you are showing me right now.” I told Joe, “Oh, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. But it will be of even better craftsmanship than you are seeing right now.” He was very nice and

CONDUCTED BY SHAUN CLANCY TRANSCRIBED BY STEVEN TICE 41 OPPOSITE PAGE: Certainly artist Tony DeZuñiga’s most fondly-recalled series was “Jonah Hex,” a character he co-created with writer John Albano for All-Star Western. Cover detail from Jonah Hex #56 (Jan ’82). Courtesy of the artist. ©2004 DC Comics. ABOVE: The distinguished artist himself. Courtesy of Tony DeZuñiga.

CBA V.2 #4

except on the face? That’s the only obvious place where you can put it. So that’s it. I decided half of the face was blown-up by a cannonball. [laughs] That’s it. They loved it, loved the character, the design and all that. So that’s it. I loved Jonah because…. You see, John Albano was a cartoonist. He did cartoons for The New Yorker and I don’t know what else. So he would draw the script in cartoon form, and put the balloons with stick figures, and all that. All I had to do was just look at it, and I don’t even need to read the script. It was so unique. I fell in love with that strip, and that’s why I kept it all these years. [Prior to their talk, Tony had given the interviewer John’s original thumbnail script, along with Tony’s initial thumbnail art — Ye Ed.] Because the size of the script he made, it’s almost the actual size of a comic book page when it’s printed. So that’s what I did with the pencil. When I showed it to Joe, he said, “Well, how are you going to make this printable?” Because DC and everybody printed their own art paper, 11" by 17" boards, as they didn’t want any artists just drawing the work on their own paper. Somebody might draw on paper the size of a bedsheet, and that was bad. So that size fits their method, and that’s why they printed those boards and just gave it to the artists. I said, “That’s not a problem, Joe. All I have to do is blow it up on an opaque projector to that paper size, and then the printer will just shrink it again to the printed size.” “Oh, okay.” So they understood, and then that’s it. That’s why I still have those thumbnails. I really think it’s quite a collector’s item, because I don’t think any other artist had done that before. Shaun: I don’t know if John Albano had done any other titles at DC. [John Albano wrote extensively for editor Joe Orlando from the late 1960s to the early ’70s and was briefly a DC editor himself in 1972 on Larry Harmon’s Laurel and Hardy #1. He also contributed some gag cartoons to Plop! — Y.E.] I’m not familiar with his other work. But I’d be interested in knowing if he had used that format regularly. Tony: You know, that’s a good question. I’m not sure, though. I can’t even ask John today. I think he passed away a couple of years ago. Shaun: I did notice that, in the copies you gave me of the pencils, it’s pretty close to the finished job. On page two of the first appearance in pencil

TOP: The young artist Tony DeZuñiga in 1964. Photo courtesy of Tony. ABOVE: Tony DeZuñiga’s stylish design sense was clearly evident in his innovative logo designs for the installments of the James Bond 007 knock-off serial, “Ten Yen Te Alegre,” appearing in the Filipino comic book Redondo Komix. Splash from #34 (Aug. 11, ’64).

told me, “You know, it’s not how much detail you can draw and how good it looks; you have to really tell a story well. The pictures you draw must tell a story. It’s like watching a silent movie. Without reading all the words, all the copy, a reader needs to be able to follow the story.” So I really learned a lot just from talking to Joe. I used to go to his office one day a week just to get instruction. Not on how to draw, but how to tell a story well. Shaun: Did DC have a staff of artists there, or did you work at home? Tony: No, I worked at home. I don’t think they had an art staff in-house, except for the colorist. Even their letterers were not working in the office. I think the freelancers were all doing the work on the outside and then they’d deliver it to the office. That’s what I understood. I may be wrong, but I didn’t see any artists who were doing work there, except for the guy who was in charge of production (whose job was to oversee the art, especially the covers). The printing process, at that time, was just not as good as what they’re doing today. It was very different in those years. Shaun: Do you recall your first assignment? Tony: Yeah, it was an Egyptian story for one of the mystery titles. Anyway, I was so nervous that, I tell you, the job really didn’t turn out that good. [laughs] I was just so nervous. But, thank God, Joe Orlando understood the situation, so he was telling me, “You’ve gotta just relax and enjoy what you’re doing. Because you can draw, I see that you can.” Thank God, he understood. Shaun: Did you pencil and ink that one? Tony: Yes, I penciled and inked the very first job. Shaun: Did you have a month deadline or did he give you a week? Tony: No, that was an inventory job. I remember that. Whether I finished it or not, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Shaun: Oh, it was a try-out? Tony: Yes, like that. Right. Shaun: Do you still have that story? Tony: Yes, I think I do. I remember looking at it recently and thinking, “Throw these pages away!” [laughter] It’s not very good. Shaun: We all have to start somewhere! This was in 1971? Tony: Yes, you’re right. That’s exactly when I started at DC. Shaun: Which ongoing series was your first? Was Jonah Hex the first continuing character you worked on? Tony: I think he was. Carmine Infantino was president of DC then. It was his idea to put out a Western character, but it was going to be Joe Orlando’s book, because Joe was the main editor. But they wanted to do was ridiculous. They wanted to do was take a cowboy character, a Western character, who was a take-off on the Incredible Hulk — exactly like the Incredible Hulk, with a physique like that! Oh, my God — so I was telling the writer, John Albano, “I don’t think I want to do this. I think you’d better find another artist.” John told Joe Orlando, “If Tony won’t do it, I’m not going to write it.” So they argued. Finally, Carmine agreed, “Okay, if you can design a character you want to do, and then we’ll give you two issues of that book [All-Star Western], and, if it doesn’t do anything, we’ll just kill the title.” So John and I talked about it. John called me, “Well, what do you think about that deal, Tony?” I said, “I’ll risk it. It’s worth a try, instead of doing what they wanted. I can’t be drawing the Incredible Hulk wearing a cowboy hat.” So that’s the start of Jonah. Then they told me, “Just design him.” He was a Confederate soldier who survived the Civil War and, if I make him so he’s battle-scarred or something like that, that already gave us a start on how to develop the character. So I did a lot of studies. This was the worst thing about the assignment. Well, where else can you put scars on a character

the cba interview

The artistry of Alex Niño isn’t easy to describe. Words like manic, graceful, surreal, hallucinogenic, subversive, and whimsical come to mind, but whatever it is, his work is utterly, undeniably original. Of the supremely talented Filipino school, Nestor Redondo and Alfredo Alcala may have unbeatable technique and incredible chops as artists, but few comic book creators in the world can match Alex’s visionary approach and unique brilliance. Quite simply, the man is an artist’s artist, one very highly-regarded by a legion of fans, many from outside comics, and we’re proud to present Alex’s first in-depth interview in his forty-plus-year career. This telephone interview was conducted on January 31, 2004, and Alex copy-edited the transcript. Comic Book Artist: Where are you originally from, Alex? Alex Niño: The Philippines, on the main island called Luzon. I lived in a province, in the countryside. CBA: What was your upbringing like? Were you poor, were you middle class? Alex: I came from a family of farmers who rely on what we produce! Money was not a problem —we don’t need any — we used barter trading. We lived in a village, days away from the nearest town. To a certain living standard, we were dirt poor, but we were used to it. One time, my father came home from a trip and brought with him coins to be used as buttons, necklaces, even nail washers! To me, those were the real happy times. CBA: What crop did the farm produce? Alex: It was a family farm, so we grew rice, not to sell, but for the family to eat. CBA: Did you have brothers and sisters? Alex: I have two brothers and one sister. I am the oldest.

CBA: When were you born? Alex: On May 1st — May Day — 1940. CBA: Do you remember the Japanese occupation at all? Alex: A little bit. CBA: Was it hard on your family and the village? Alex: It was very hard! All able-bodied men in the village had to join the guerrilla forces against Japan — that included my father — and the rest of us were forced to leave the village and hide inside dug-outs, like rats. Pearl Harbor and other movies we have today remind me of those fearful times when I was a kid. Planes would engage in dogfights right over our village, and empty shells would fall right from the sky on top of the dugout where we were hiding. We used to pick ’em up and play with them as toys. When the shells landed, they were still really hot, because they had just fallen from the planes up there.

PREVIOUS COLOR PAGES: Our intro page to the Alex Niño section is an alternative version of this issue’s Captain Fear cover (and yet another painting of the Caribe pirate is found — albeit reproduced far too small — on the reverse of this page). Captain Fear ©2004 DC Comics. Taken in the 1970s, the full-page photo portrait of the artist appears courtesy of and ©2004 Manuel Auad.

52 CBA V.2 #4

THIS PAGE: Various panels from Alex Niño’s much-beloved Adventure Comics serial, Captain Fear, one of the few continuing character strips the artist has worked on in mainstream American comics. Clockwise from top left: shamelessly modified by Ye Ed, the splash page from Fear’s origin tale in Adventure #425 (Jan. ’73); logo motif from #433 (June ’74); and the final panel from that same issue. The series was created by writer Bob Kanigher. All ©2004 DC Comics.

Pacific

the Philippine Islands contextual overview by jon b. cooke

the guise of the Katipunan, a secret revolutionary society composed of workers and peasants) continued to grow. In 1896, the Philippine Insurrection (under the leadership of General Emilio Aguinaldo) began, driving most Spaniards from the country. Though a temporary truce was called with the weakened occupiers by 1898, Aguinaldo used the growing hostilities between the United States and Spain (over the sinking of the battleship Maine in Havana Harbor) and requested the aid of the U.S. Navy. Thus, with the onslaught of the Spanish-American War, U.S. Naval Commodore George Dewey sailed for the islands and, once there, successfully sank the Spanish fleet on Manila Bay. In an apparent betrayal of Aguinaldo and the rebels, the U.S.”bought” the Philippines for $20 million, as part of the Spanish-American peace treaty, and thus, with the loss of Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines, the age of the Spanish Empire was past and the new era of American colonialism had only just begun. Cheated by the Yanks, the general appealed for a popular uprising against these new imperialists though the revolution was downgraded to guerrilla warfare in short order. By 1901, the rebellion was crushed and Aguinaldo arrested, and in the next year the islands were officially declared a territory of the United States of America. The call for independence was

ing year, the islands were declared liberated. The Republic of the Philippines was announced on July 4, 1946, and the U.S. soon negotiated a 99-year lease for military bases. Independence — albeit a neocolonialist sort — had arrived. The communist-led Huks, rejecting U.S. control, again took up arms and nearly seized power but the rebel group was destroyed by government forces — aided by the C.I.A. — in the early 1950s. In 1965, Ferdinand Marcos, the most highly decorated Filipino soldier during World War Two, was elected president of the Philippines (aided by his influential wife, Imelda Romualdez). During this volatile time for the region, as the U.S. was fighting a war in Vietnam (a country maybe 700 miles west of Manila), the nation was beset by its own renewed insurgency — in this instance the Maoist New People’s Army — and Marcos declared martial law in 1972. Dissolving the Congress, imprisoning the opposition, and basically announcing he would remain as president by whim, Marcos became virtual dictator, ruling the country by corruption and cronyism. In 1981, Marcos lifted martial law and won reelection, but would be dogged by financial recession, growing political opposition, and — yet again — internal strife fomented by leftist guerrillas. The 1983 assassination of his leading opponent, populist Benigno Aquino, Jr. — a crime widely suspected

never entirely quelled, though the country’s trade grew dependent on the U.S., as virtually all their exports sailed stateward and the Philippines became an important market for American merchants. By the mid-’30s, the archipelago was deemed a commonwealth, their first president — Manuel Quezon — elected, and independence from the U.S. was slated for 1946. Importantly, U.S. General Douglas MacArthur arrived in 1935 and soon became field marshal of the Commonwealth army. The day after the attack on Pearl Harbor — December 8, 1941 — imperial Japanese forces invaded the Philippines, and the conquest was complete early the following year, with American forces defeated — 36,000 starving men, three-quarters of them Filipino — on the Bataan peninsula in April. The previous month, MacArthur had been ordered by U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt to abandon the island, though the general memorably vowed to the Filipinos — and warned the Japanese — “I shall return.” The new conquerors suffered harassment during their brutal occupation from native guerrilla warriors (trained by the U.S. Army and Filipino officers), including the Hukbalahaps (or Huks), who used terrorism against the enemy. Forces under the returning MacArthur landed in the heart of the islands on Oct. 20, 1944, surprising the Japanese, and by July of the follow-

to have had the approval of Marcos — led to widespread dissatisfaction of the president by many Filipinos. Marcos, in a move orchestrated to prove his strength, called for a presidential election and found himself opposed by Corazon Aquino — Benigno’s charismatic widow — leader of the growing anti-Marcos”People Power” movement. Three weeks after declaring himself a victor (through rampant voter fraud and intimidation), Marcos was overthrown by a revolt of army officers. As the deposed leader was flown to exile in Hawaii (where he would die three years later), “Cory” Aquino was sworn in as the Philippines' first woman president. Cory’s presidency was plagued by problems as she never managed to bring the powerful feudal families or the military under her control. She survived seven coup attempts and made little headway in improving life for the majority of Filipinos who were — and still are — living in poverty. The country’s economy picked up after President Fidel Ramos took office in 1992, but huge problems remained, including crippling foreign debt, crime and poverty. Ramos was succeeded in ’98 by former vice-president Joseph Estrada, a former movie actor. Elected to the Presidency on a propoor platform, he has promised food security, jobs, mass housing, education and health for all. Whether these promises can be kept remains to be seen.

fin

ABOVE: Jesse Santos, one of the great Filipino comic book artists (sadly neglected in this issue of CBA but extensively interviewed in CBA V.1, #22) shared this ’60s photo of Filipino komiks artists posing with the notorious President Ferdinand Marcos and his (shoe-lovin’) wife, Imelda (both in circle). Jesse is at far left.

59 CBA V.2 #4

Philippine Comic Book The Filipino

60 CBA V.2 #4

There is a wonderful word, much beloved of comic-book pros, to describe obsessive line-work and cross-hatching: noodling. The undoubted kings of noodling were the Filipino artists who first entered the U.S. culture in 1971, led by Tony DeZuñiga. As has been the case with other influxes of artists — such as the South American, Spanish and British invasions — U.S. fans have long seemed unsure what to make of them. Were they merely cheap labor, or a safeguard against a possibly militant artist guild? Alternatively, were they rather a supremely talented — and quick — band of artists who would bring something new to an increasingly diverse comics scene? I would prefer to believe the latter option, but there is every possibility that all three could be true. The pioneering Tony DeZuñiga, the first Filipino to break into the American market, must have been extraordinarily visionary to travel to a foreign country, with a culture entirely alien to his own, to present his work to DC Comics. Luckily for him — and us — DC boss Carmine Infantino and editor Joe Orlando were perceptive enough to see the possibilities in his work. His first assignment, inking Ric Estrada on a romance story for Girls’ Love Stories #153, duly appeared in the summer of 1970. Within a year, DeZuñiga had branched out into other titles and genres, such as House of Mystery, All-Star Western, and The Phantom Stranger, and his new assistant, Ernie (Chua) Chan, was also beginning to get romance assignments. When Infantino and Orlando traveled to the Philippines in 1971 and discovered Nestor Redondo, the floodgates opened. Through DeZuñiga and Redondo, we first saw strips by Alex Niño in July 1972, soon followed by Gerry Talaoc, Vic Catan, Alfredo Alcala, Fred Carrillo, and many more. What the Filipinos shared was a good, solid and usually (Niño excepted) conven-

tional approach to storytelling, exceptional draftsmanship, and exuberant, florid brushwork which harked back to the golden years of magazine illustration in the first few decades of the 20th Century. Interestingly, DC were quite selective in who they used, ignoring excellent Redondo-esque artists such as Federico Javinal and Rading Sabater in favor of quirkier, more individualistic artists like Niño, Alcala and Ruben Yandoc. Once they saw how the Filipinos had transformed DC’s mystery titles, other companies came calling — principally Pendulum Books, which used Nestor Redondo to recruit artists for their new Classics line (1973-79), and Marvel Comics. Marvel needed illustrators for their black-&-white mags, and picked up DeZuñiga and his stable of artists. Some of these, such as Rudy Nebres and Ernie Chan (then using the name Chua), soon moved on to their color books. By the end of the decade, Warren Publishing also began to recruit a large number of Filipinos, resulting in a talent drain from the big two which precipitated a second wave of immigrants, including Romeo Tanghal, Adrian Gonzalez, and Danny Bulanadi. However, 1982 proved to be something of a watershed for the movement, when both Warren and DC cancelled their horror lines. Mainstream editors had always seemed reluctant to try out the Filipinos on their super-hero books, relegating them to the commercial margins on horror, Western and sword-&-sorcery titles, but as the ’80s progressed and those genres were snuffed out one by one, the foreign artists either had to adapt to the mainstream or move elsewhere. One result was a mass exodus to Hollywood and the animation factories, where they at least had the comfort of higher pay. Those who stayed behind, including Tanghal and Bulanadi, enjoyed steady work as inkers but there seemed little

TOP: A fascinating — and gorgeous — one-shot we heartily recommend folks to seek out is Magic Carpet #1, published by Bud Plant in 1977, which features spectacular artwork by the legendary Alfredo Alcala. Voltar was a sword-&-sorcery character Alfredo originally created in the Philippines, which also appeared in The Rook #2-9.

Artists in U.S. Comics phile

by david a. roach

call for the graphic exuberance that so typified the movement at its most thrilling. With a very few exceptions, the Filipino invasion of comics is now over, and their ’70s heyday is either ignored by collectors or misunderstood. In recent years, a third wave of creators has entered the U.S., but I suspect that few readers are aware that the likes of Whilce Portacio, Leinil Francis Yu, Jay Anacleto, Lan Medina and Gerry Alanguilan are indeed Filipino. Their art reflects the U.S. comics mainstream of the past decade rather than their own visual heritage, and they clearly work in a different artistic tradition, with little in common with their predecessors. That is probably good for them commercially, but it means that the traditional Filipino style is all but dead. So, for the purposes of this article I shall deal only with the first two waves of Filipino artists. In the ’70s and ’80s, almost 100 Filipino artists drew and inked strips for U.S. publishers — a staggering figure — and the following “primer” is as complete a listing as I have been able to assemble as a guide to who did what. With a few exceptions, the artists seem to fall into three camps: followers of Nestor Redondo, who favored a smooth, feathered inking style; the circle around Tony DeZuñiga, who went for a muscular, dynamic drawing style, much like that of John Buscema (who so many of them went on to ink at one time or another); and a grittier, more gestural inking style typified by Rico Rival and, later, Romeo Tanghal. So, let’s bring on the artists! — D.A.R.

JUAQUIN ALBISTUR Not positively identified as a Filipino, but contributed a couple of edgy, angular horror strips to Dark Mansion (#10) and House of Secrets (#124).

ALFREDO P. ALCALA One of the few Filipinos to build a genuine following in the U.S., almost from the moment his first strip in Unexpected #138 (Aug. 1972) hit the stands. Alcala had honed his talent in the Philippines for decades and was already a star there, even lending his name to a comic: Alcala Komiks. While he shared his fellow Filipinos’ love of muscular, heroic figures and excessive rendering, he took it to new heights with intricate, etched linework, inspired by turn-of-the-century artists such as Franklin Booth (predating Bernie Wrightson’s interest), J.C.Leyendecker, and Frank Brangwyn. In the U.S., Alcala became a mainstay of DC’s mystery books for several highly productive years, also popping up in Plop! and Weird Western Tales (on “El Diablo”), and going on to draw 113 strips for them in total. When Marvel set up their black-&-white line, he was one of the first artists poached from DC, and his elaborate inking and delicate wash tones graced most of their titles, including Tales of the Zombie and Planet of the Apes (adapting the Beneath… and Conquest… movies). But it was his inks over John Buscema on the newly created Savage Sword of Conan which caused a sensation, particularly “Black Colossus” in #2 and “Iron Shadows in the

61 ABOVE: Undoubtedly one of the most consistently beautiful strips drawn by a Filipino artist in American comics was Rima, The Jungle Girl (#1-7, May ’74-May ’75), edited by Joe Kubert, written by Bob Kanigher, and drawn by Nestor Redondo (based on the character in W.H. Hudson’s tragic novel, Green Mansions). This splash double-page spread is from #1, a breathtaking image that just might be the most beautiful introduction of a comic book character ever. Courtesy of Manuel Auad. ©2004 DC Comics.

CBA V.2 #4

1971

The Infantino & Orlando Trip

Arriving in Manila on December 6, 1971, DC Comics publisher Carmine Infantino and his main editor Joe Orlando, traveled with artist Tony DeZuñiga to the Philippines and subsequently met with SPIC, the Society of Philippine Illustrators and Cartoonists. The meeting took place at the National Press Club on Dec. 8, presided over by the “dean” of Filipino komiks artists, Francisco V. Coching. Courtesy of Manuel Auad, here are a bunch of pictures from that historic occasion, which resulted in many great artists working in American comic books.

LEFT TO RIGHT: Tony DeZuñiga, Carmine Infantino, Nestor Redondo, and Joe Orlando. Joe Orlando.

LEFT TO RIGHT: DeZuñiga, Orlando and Infantino.

LEFT TO RIGHT: Orlando, Infantino, and Francisco V. Coching.

Joe Orlando.

LEFT TO RIGHT: Unknown (in white shirt, standing), Larry Alcala, Ben Alcantara, DeZuñiga, Coching (standing), unknown SPIC advisor, Orlando, and Infantino.

62 CBA V.2 #4