Why?
The Philippine Question personal commentary by jon b. cooke
Anyone even slightly familiar with Comic Book Artist realizes that Ye Editor— my humble self — is a sequential art freak particularly obsessed with the American comic books of the 1970s, in whatever form they took in that day. From DC’s “daring and different” titles under Carmine Infantino’s helmanship, to the faux comics of National Lampoon, to the mind-blowing underground efforts coming from San Francisco, Ye Ed is convinced that the story behind that era’s funnybooks is an important tale worth telling. One severely under-appreciated aspect of U.S. comics in the ’70s is surely the arrival and accomplishments of the Philippine “school” of artists, a stunningly talented group of men who made an immediate and lasting impression on the industry and among appreciative readers. Strange sounding names — DeZuñiga, Niño, Redondo, Alcala, etc. — would quickly become familiar and quite welcome to those aficionados willing to venture outside the super-hero genre, and take a peek at the mystery, Western, science-fiction, romance and war anthologies of those years. Nestor was knockin’ ’em dead in Swamp Thing! Alex was blowing our minds over at Warren! Alfredo was astounding us with his inks on penciler John Buscema’s Savage Sword of Conan! The Filipinos were everywhere in the ’70s! While the comics of that decade have been examined ad nauseum by this magazine and others, as well as in a number of bona fide books on the subject, extremely little has been written anywhere about this “invasion” of the Filipinos. A single issue of the fascinating Philippine Comics Review (Oct.-Dec. 1979), a sole entry — under “Alex Niño” — in Comics: Between The Panels (by Steve
RIGHT: Writer Mars Ravelo and artist Nestor Redondo’s Filipino heroine Darna. From The Philippine Comics Review #1 (Dec. ’79)
Duin and Mike Richardson, 1998), a lone article in CBA (“Invasion from the Philippines,” by Chris Knowles, Vol. 1, #5, Summer 1999), and scant else can be found written about the experiences of the 90 or so artists from the Southeast Asian archipelago who toiled in U.S. comics for upwards of three decades. Regardless of all their efforts pumping out thousands of pages — among them innumerable masterpieces, often for a pitiful page rate — these artists have received virtually no recognition from fandom and historians, never mind being forgotten and disrespected by an ungrateful industry. For shame. The question of why naturally comes to mind: Why have the Filipinos been so ignored over the years? Is it blatant xenophobia against “foreign” artists (similar to the neglect the Spanish and South American “schools” also suffer)? Or is it a sideeffect of the prejudice against non super-hero material (as few Filipinos — among them Alcala, Rudy Nebres, and Danny Bulanadi — were successful in the costumed character field)? Some major U.S. artists of that era have opined to Ye Ed that the Philippine art was “sub-standard” and “hardly comparable” to contemporaneous American efforts. Huh? In this editor’s humble opinion: As a group, these Asian artists were astonishingly accomplished and talented almost beyond measure. Certainly the top three talents — Redondo, Niño, and Alcala — stand shoulder-to-shoulder with any comic book artist the world over, bowing their heads to no one. This issue is a particular labor of love for Ye Ed, as I’ve been fascinated by the work of these illustrators, ever since my oldest brother, Richie, in a dramatic gesture, held up a gorgeous Alex Niño comic book — this was back in the early ’70s — and exclaimed, “This is as good as anything else being published today.” Now, those were heady words, as Jack Kirby, Bernie Wrightson, Barry Windsor-Smith, Neal Adams, Mike Kaluta, etc., were arguably producing their finest work in that time frame. So, needless to say, I’ve been eager to devote an issue to the Filipino school for a long, long time. Here’s hoping that this woefully short section is but an opening volley in efforts to rectify these shortcomings. No doubt, these gents are deserving of the attention. In the following pages you’ll find not only eye-opening overviews of the accomplishments of many Filipino artists (by frequent CBA contributors Manuel Auad and David A. Roach), but also a brief history of their homeland (for context) and a solid look at the history of the Philippine “komiks” industry (by John A. Lent, editor-in-chief of the prestigious International Journal of Comic Art), amongst other goodies. Again, this is only a meager start in giving these wonderful artists the respect and coverage they warrant. Enjoy. — Jon B. Cooke,Ye Ed.
57 TOP INSET: Nestor Redondo cover painting for The Philippine Comics Review one-shot (Dec. ’79).
CBA V.2 #4