--= Sardinian Connection =--

Gary Spencer Millidge draws Kirby & F4

2011-12-18T03:06:00.000-08:00

In 2004 Gary Spencer Millidge contributed - with other Italian and International artists - to the Italian book Jak Kirby: Tributo al Re, conceived and supervised by Italian journalist and comics writer Marco Rizzo.
The sold-out anthology celebrated the genius of Jack Kirby in the 10th anniversary of his departure with short essays, appreciation texts, illustrations, short comics and much more. I contributed with a short text and also involved some International friends in the homage gallery.

In that occasion Gary Spencer Millidge drew a great illustration celebrating both Kirby and one of his most popular creations, The Fantastic Four.

Many thanks to Gary for his generous support to the book and... for his permission to post here his great illustration in colour for the first time. Enjoy! :)

P. CRAIG RUSSELL interview

2011-10-17T14:16:00.000-07:00

Interview conducted by smoky man, on theoccasion of the publication - by NPE - of the Italian edition of Coraline’s adaptation .

Answers received in October 2011. Posted herewith the artist's permission.

Many thanks to Mr. Russell for his kindness and support.

P. Craig Russell official site: www.artofpcraigrussell.com

In your long careeryou have successfully adapted into comics form several works originally fromdifferent sources. What about your approach to the original material? Do yougenerally make a lot of researches and studies before actually start?
P. Craig Russell: I actually don't do a tremendousamount of studies and research before I start a project. Certainly if thesetting is something like, for instance, feudal Japanor 19th century Holland,I have to assemble costume and architectural reference ahead of time and if I'mgoing for a more realistic approach I pose models and photograph them forreference. The only time I do a great amount of sketchbook work beforebeginning to draw a story is when the visual 'tone' of the piece is morecartoony. For my adaptation of Oscar Wilde's fairy tale The Devoted Friend Ifilled 50 pages in my sketchbook.

Page from Coraline

What about your method in adapting intocomics form? Do you follow a "standard" process? I suppose that maybeeach piece needed its own "tone" depending on the author and specificwork, I guess.. but maybe there are common threads or techniques/storytellingdevices that you can identify...

PCR: When beginning an adaptation I firstphotocopy each two page spread of the book onto 11x17 paper. This leaves a hugemargin in which I can thumbnail sketch however many versions of a page design Ineed before solving the problem. I also use these large pages to do a veryrough 'blocking' of text to comic page. In other words, based on simpleexperience, I 'guesstimate' how many paragraphs can make the transition fromprose to page. Sometimes it's not even whole paragraphs but only a fewsentences that are given an entire page to themselves. I'm also looking for agood 'break' point for each page, almost like the stanza of a poem. You don'twant a page break in the middle of a sentence. Also, it's easier to spread outthese sheets on the table than to be constantly leafing back and forth throughthe book as I lay it out.

Page from A Voyage to the Moon

How much did your "method"change with the passing of years? If it did...

For me 'method' is an evolution,just as one's handwriting or drawing style subtly evolves over the years.Having said that, there have been some seismic shifts such as going from theillustrative realism of The Gift of the Magi (Opus 31)to the straight out cartooning of A Voyage to the Moon (Opus 32).But those changes in drawing style were dictated by the subject matter of thestory. Layout style has been more constant in its evolution although the yearin which I did nothing but lay out over 600 pages (1996?) I quickly evolved apage design approach in which I was acutely aware of the aligning andconfluence of the 'gutters' between panels. There was another shift severalyears later when I was designing Coraline and started running gutters acrossdouble page spreads. It's not entirely consistent throughout the book butusually is. With Coraline I also started playing with the interplay on each, ormost, pages between very large and very small panels. I enjoyed the challengeof making the pages visually interesting as a series of rectangles while notlosing sight of the importance of storytelling, of why those rectangles were onthe page in the first place. In other words it failed if it was merely one orthe other.

An other page from Coraline

Talking specifically about Coraline, howdid the project originate? Which were the difficulties - if there were any - thatyou faced along the process?

PCR: The first part of your question iseasy to answer. For me the project originated when Neil Gaiman called me andasked if I'd be interested in adapting Coraline. I said yes. That was easy.There were no major difficulties except one. It was Neil's description of the'other father' when he has been relegated to the basement and is reverting tosome otherworldly form. Basically he's a slug with little stick arms. The storycalls for him to chase Coraline around the basement. This works in prose but Ifound it very difficult to animate. My version, while decaying, is much morehuman like, just so I could get him to move. On seeing the finished work Neilwistfully asked what had happened to his 'slug Dad'. I explained. When theanimated film came out I excitedly looked forward to how the animators wouldsolve the problem. THEY AVOIDED IT TOO. They put the Dad on a sort of bicycle,chasing her about the garden. I sank down in my seat and said "Oh no, poorNeil. Sorry".

I really appreciated your decision toapproach the subject with a "light tone". I really like the way youdrew Coraline. I like to think it's a sort of "realistic"cartooning... what about your decision in term of visual storytelling? Whatabout the "design" of each characters? I suppose you were familiarwith the illustrations that Dave McKean did for the original novel... they weremore darker in style than your approach…

PCR: Dave's beautiful illustrationscertainly were darker and edgier than mine. When Neil was discussing theproject with me I could sense he was being very careful as to why I was beingasked. I understood. I said "you want a more 'user friendly' artist toappeal to the kids". I could hear the smile of relief in his voice as hesaid "Yes".

A gorgeous page from Ramadan

Doing a step back... as a comics reader Ialways remain amazed by your Sandman's Ramadan issue,which, in my humble opinion, is one of the peak of the medium, a realmasterpiece. So, what about your collaboration with Neil Gaiman? In yourprevious works together and especially in the case of Coraline...

PCR: The reason I do so many adaptationsof classic literature is that, like so many filmmakers who look to the novel orthe play for source material, I'm simply looking for a good story to tell.You're halfway there when you have that to start with. It's the same incollaborating with Neil. To me working with Neil is no different than workingwith Oscar Wilde or Rudyard Kipling. Except they're dead and he's very muchalive. And it's very exciting working with a living writer whose life's work isa work in progress and not yet a set of collected works. Also, he's verysweetly encouraging and that makes me want to try even harder on the nextproject.

What are you working on at the moment? Any "mainstream"involvement, e.g. superhero stuff? I recently saw your b&w Spirit shortstory and it was a very funny reading and a little example of "intelligententertainment”....

PCR: Earlier this year I finished work onThe Happy Prince, the fifth volume in my ongoing adaptation of the completefairy tales of Oscar Wilde. Now I'm starting work on the sixth album and thelast of those nine tales, The Fisherman and his Soul. There's an album of NeilGaiman short stories I should be farther along. We're also discussing a severalhundred page adaptation of his The Graveyard Book which would involve a numberof artists working over my layouts. No super-hero work at the present, theSpirit story was about as close to that as I've gotten in a while. What adelightful script Will Pfeiffer gave me. So between Gaiman and Wilde I have thenext couple of years planned out. Which reminds me of an old joke. Q: How doyou make God laugh? A: Tell him your plans.

Page from The Spirit N.17

Farel Dalrymple pays homage to Sergio Toppi

2011-10-01T08:51:00.000-07:00

In 2005 Farel Dalrymple contributed - with some other Italian and International artists - to the gallery of homage illustrations contained in Sergio Toppi: Nero su bianco con eccezioni, a book edited by Fabrizio Lo Bianco and published in Italy by Black Velvet. The volume explored in depth the career and works of SERGIO TOPPI, the worldwide acclaimed Master of Comics Art and Illustration.

In that occasion Dalrymple drew a great portrait of Toppi's character Il Collezionista (The Collector).

Many thanks to Mr. Dalrymple for his generous support to the book and... for his permission to show here his gorgeous illustration. Enjoy! :)

KATHRYN & STUART IMMONEN interview

2010-11-12T13:45:00.000-08:00

Interview conducted by smoky man, mainly focused on the Immonens' Moving Pictures graphic novel, on the occasion of the Italian edition published by NPE.

Answers received via email in September 2010.

Originally printed in Italy on the free press magazine Comic-Soon (N. 11, October 2010, Tespi Editore).

Presented here in English for the first time with the artists' permission.

Moving Pictures has been defined as “historical fiction”. Do you think this is a good definition, a good “label” for it?

Kathryn Immonen: It’s as good as any. And certainly, we’ve been extremely happy to have been positively reviewed by places like The American Library Association and it helps that there’s content in the work that can be linked to school curricula. But really, Moving Pictures doesn’t even fall into the category of what’s currently derisively being called ‘faction’ in some critical circles. It’s a small story that steadfastly ignores the larger events. I’m pretty sure there were no fetching Canadians doing curatorial work-study at the Louvre. And I’m sure we screwed up all over the place but, you know... there’s a big error in The Bourne Identity but it doesn’t stop it from being a terrific film. But basically, like all fiction I think, it’s an invitation to think about something differently for just a moment.

Stuart Immonen: It's always been our feeling that the "facts" shouldn't get in the way of the "story," that is, if a story -- a fiction -- is what you want to tell. The period is already well-examined; we don't pretend to add to the historical record with Moving Pictures, but I don't think we alter it, either.

KI: Well... not much, anyway.

The book is set in Nazi-occupied France and one of the key element in the story is Art in itself. What led to your interest in this subject and setting? Where did the original idea for Moving Pictures come from?

KI: Many years ago, I was reading Janet Flanner’s ... Paris was Yesterday, I think it was. She was the Paris correspondent for the New Yorker magazine during the war. And she was talking about the cleaning of the Louvre as a by-product of the shifting of the art out of the city. It was just so strange and funny. I, like just about everybody, was familiar with those incredible photographs of the art hoard that was found in the mine in the Austrian Alps. But I really started thinking about those guys with the rags and the cans of Pledge and the buckets of ammonia water... small domestic activities that were a side-effect of big global acts of violence and, in a lot of ways, imagination.

Even if World War II is just mentioned in the story - and for example you don’t see any swastika but just black flags in the pages - MP is clearly “linked” to a well recognizable period of 20th century, but the focus certainly seems to be on the characters and their dynamics. What do you think the actual narrative core to be?

KI: At the beginning, the imagery was there on the flags and, initially, we got rid of it because it just looked so overwhelmingly obvious, somehow.

SI: Right, this was another case of self-censorship, obfuscating the setting deliberately. It happened in the dialogue, too. In the original script, there were names of well-known historical figures that we eventually decided didn't need to be there, and in fact, got in the way of the story we wanted to tell.

KI: As we continued to kind of keep erasing signs, it started to function in a lot of other ways. As a visual metaphor for blind spots (wilful or otherwise), as a literal reference to the actual blacking out of signposts during the war, as an impediment to wayfinding of all kinds.

KI: In many ways, though, the setting just provides a solid backdrop against which to talk about things which are important to us as creators, not the least of which is the hierarchy and valuation of objects. But also, it’s a historical moment that has been so explored, written and over-written that slippage seems unavoidable. By which I mean that the fictional characters, in this case, inevitably have a kind of fundamentally unlocatable nature which I find really compelling. You can write about the history all you want, I’m not sure you can ever make sense of it... even as a collection of events. And certainly, throughout the story, the characters in a lot of ways have their backs firmly turned to it. At its heart, it’s a story about desire.

I think one of the strong points of the book is that is a story that you have to read and read again because each word, each expression, each single panel, could be revelatory. The reader has to pay attention. What do you think about this? While reading it, I thought it could work as a very European black and white movie, maybe with a spot, a touch of colour in some scenes… I don’t know if this could make sense for you…

KI: Yeah. I know there has been some vague hope that this property may have another life somehow but I don’t really see it as a possibility. I think the best description of Moving Pictures is still “one long strangled inhalation”. For Stuart and me, it is so thoroughly a comic, conceived completely to exist in that form and, hopefully, make the most of the medium. It’s such an incredibly ‘still’ work. Everything is internalized. And I continue to be amazed at how Stuart compellingly handled the storytelling in a piece where ‘action’ means a character glances over to one side or, if you’re lucky, does something really crazy like sit down and take their jacket off.

SI: I know! It could be adapted, though. It's a very, very controlled reading experience, very deliberate in pacing and composition. For it to be re-imagined for a very collaborative medium like film would be interesting... but different. But that's the case with anything.

How much research did you do, both for the textual part and for the visual one? What about influences and references?

KI: The script was completed such a long ago and any time I glance back at the notes I kept, I’m surprised by how much I read, how much I knew. I think I’d categorize it more as ‘reading’ rather than ‘research’. Typically, I don’t keep stuff either in real life or in my head. So, while there was a lot of prep, I wouldn’t say that a whole lot of it found its way into the story in any kind of overt way. It’s not a work that’s overridden with those kinds of details... at least I hope not. There comes a point, too, where you just have to put a stop to the research and it’s mostly because you are in danger of finding yourself wanting to include things that you find interesting but that your characters couldn’t care less about.

SI: In a way, that applies to the art, as well. There are so many panels with simple black backgrounds that you might think very little research was required, but in fact, I collected as many period photos and documents as I could. But the drawing style I chose dictated how much could be shown. The details are so spare that when they are included at all, they represent a larger setting.

SI: I was thinking about the styles of German artist Ulf K. and French artist Stanislas when I began work on Moving Pictures, and there is something of Dylan Horrocks in there, too. Pretty shortly the style developed on its own, and drawing that way seemed natural instead of deliberate homage.

Originally MP has been serialized as a web-comics. You said - in past interviews - this was a way for you to be “forced” to meet a deadline. Then it moved to “classic” print. What’s the web for you? Is it a place for experimenting and to express yourself in complete artistic freedom?

SI: The internet is just a vehicle and doesn't necessarily influence the content. However, certain formats "feel" more appropriate than others. The half-hour comedy is no more suited to television exclusively than the daily strip on the web, but those platforms seem to work in those media. A cartoonist can certainly work without the conventions of print deadlines, sales, audience demands or editorial influence online and bandwidth is cheap, so experimental ideas are more likely to be explored, but I might suggest just as likely to fail as they would be in print.

SI: Right now, webcartoonists must supplement a frequent comic strip with sales of paraphernalia, prints or commission work, and they must be prepared to spend a lot of time promoting their product if they want to succeed. That's too much work for us; we just wanted to finish the work, and with both of us busy with jobs already, posting the comic on a schedule was a good way to ensure that would happen.

And print, in this modern digital era? I mean, the original plan was to have MP in print, wasn’t it? In any case, at least you were thinking to self-publishing as a possibility...

KI: The intention was always to have it in print. And certainly we thought about doing it ourselves, which we’ve done a lot. But this time, we really felt like we wanted someone else to take it over, although all the lettering, design and production work was still done by us. We started to approach publishers and were happy that Top Shelf was interested. It’s been a very good fit. The real benefit for us, though, was the editorial process. We had some long and profitable conversations with the amazing Chris Staros and there is absolutely no question that he made Moving Pictures a better book. The printed version is not enormously different than what appeared on line but it the changes we implemented as a result of the editorial relationship were invaluable.

Kathryn is credited as writer and Stuart as the artist; is it as simple as that or was it a more “complex” collaboration? I mean I am curious… for example who did the breakdowns and page layouts? Did Stuart do any editing of the writing process?

SI: The script was written with all dialogue and stage direction in place before I touched it. But it wasn't divided into pages or panels. We agreed to a simple format of three tiers of panels (or variations) which helped to determine the pacing. For example, if a scene didn't fit well in a multiple of six square panels, one might be given more "weight" by expanding it across the tier. So there was this intermediate collaborative step between writing and drawing where we both decided how to present the work visually. After the panels were drawn, sometimes I would do the lettering, and sometimes Kathryn would do it and there was usually an examination of the dialogue at that point. I guess that's complex, or at least, unusual.

Stuart, you are well known and admired, even in your superheroes works, for your “chameleonic” style, so in MP you used different approaches to the page: hatching for paintings, a clear but strong b&w line for the “real” story and spot blacks for photo collage. Why did you decide to use these three particular styles? Was it something you also discussed and planned with Kathryn?

SI: Well, thank you for the compliment, first of all. I'm trying to remember if we talked about it, or if I just "surprised" her... there was a period when the style was not concrete, and I drew the first half-dozen pages a number of times in different ways. I think I showed these trials to Kathryn as I worked, and she would tell me, as she usually does, that it was good, but I could tell that she knew I was still grasping at the final form.

KI: Sure. I would say that I always know when Stuart’s already made a decision even though he’s showing me options and, similarly, we’ll have conversations about things and Stuart makes a decision at the end but I know that the next day I’m going to find the whole thing in the garbage. I’m the same way. To each other, we’re absurdly transparent. It seems like 80 percent of our so-called collaborative process is just listening to the other person work through their own problems.

SI: Finally, I discovered a method of drawing I could maintain for the online serialization, but it wasn't right for the art. In the script, the art works are described as being shown to the audience, but not necessarily as tangible objects, rather like projections. It simply made sense to divorce them from the main characters and settings stylistically as well as compositionally.

In the Italian edition, we decided to maintain the title in English, as in the original book. Because, apart from its literal meaning of "pieces of Art packed and relocated" which is an aspect of the story in itself, I think it evokes more than that... For example, I think it's also connected to the people and their behaviour... it's intentionally "ambiguous", in a good way... What can you say about this aspect of the book?

KI: We liked the title because the literal meaning is the one that applies to the book but it is primarily used as an old fashioned term for film and movies which really has nothing to do with the story. I guess, in many ways, it was a way to defeat expectations right up front and it establishes an environment for the story where meaning and intentions can be slippery or difficult to locate.

Can you tell us pros and cons of work-for-hire jobs for mainstream, big companies and working on your more personal projects?

KI: The personal projects are, in a lot of ways, much easier, mainly because we don’t have to co ordinate with anyone or anything else. But we would both say that working in the mainstream has made our independent work better and vice versa.

SI: Yes, absolutely. The saying in English is, "A change is as good as a rest," and it applies in this situation. Thinking about storytelling in a different way prevents one from becoming stale, or from relying on convention or laziness to solve a problem.

Can you reveal anything about your next “big thing” Russian Olive to Red King?

KI: It’s about a woman who may or may not have survived a small plane crash (it’s clear that she dies at some point but exactly when that happens to a character, who’s still walking and talking all the way through, is for the reader to decide), the man who’s caught not knowing, and Chekhov. It’s a ghost story. With petroglyphs. And writer’s block.

What about your current or upcoming superheroes works? Uhmm… do you like superheroes, don’t you?

KI: I love superheroes but really, the most interesting thing about a superhero character is not the superpowered part. Patsy Walker is the strength of Hellcat and not the other way around. Bruce Wayne is a lot more interesting than Batman. I think that goes for most characters. Except maybe Superman... I still have trouble figuring out what’s interesting about him. But Lois is a smart girl... so there must be something. Stuart and I both have some really really fun and interesting work for Marvel in the pipeline (unfortunately, not together!) but I think this interview is going to appear before either of us can say what that is. Too bad!!

SI: But we did collaborate on a story for the Image Comics western anthology Outlaw Territory 2, which will be available in October 2010.

A “classic”, final question: what does it happen when your artistic partner is also your life partner?

KI: We’ve been together for an embarrassingly long time (so long that the number got applause at our panel in San Diego... embarrassing) and we’ve been making comics together for almost all of that time and sharing a work space while doing it. Both those things are our preference. Working together is the easiest thing in the world and, on the days that it’s not... the dog gets extra long walks.

Invasion

2010-06-16T00:23:00.000-07:00

A one-page story that should have been published on the Alias comics section of the Italian newspaper Il Manifesto, but did not make it because of possible copyright issues.
Written by Antonio Solinas and drawn by super-artist Matteo Scalera (Deadpool), it is presented here for the first time ever in English.
The theme for the Manifesto contribution was "Let Us Out", so, rather than turning to political territories, I decided to do something a bit more pop and "out there".
At the time I was delving in my "pikey" obsession, a phenomenon so typically British (I love typically British things), therefore I thought I would make Pikey Mikey, an original creation, the main character. Unfortunately Matteo and I forgot that our alien race might bear more than a little resemblance to other, more famous (and copyrighted) aliens...
Enjoy (and, as usual, click on the pic to enlarge it)!

JEFF SMITH interview

2010-02-09T14:26:00.000-08:00

Interview by smoky man and Antonio Solinas. Answers received as mp3 files in June 2009.
Transcription by Antonio Solinas.
Originally printed in Italy on Scuola di Fumetto magazine (N. 70, October 2009, Coniglio Editore).
Presented here in English for the first time with the artist's permission.
Above: Cover for Bone N.1. Bone is copyright and trademark Jeff Smith.
Jeff Smith site: www.boneville.com

Talking about your last work, the sci-fi series Rasl. I read the first issues and I found them really intriguing with an unusual main character: an art thief able to travel within dimensions with a personal history full of mysteries to be discovered. Can you present this new creation of yours to the Italian audience?
RASL is the first real project I have worked on since Bone that was my own. It’s the story of an inter-dimensional art thief, who is not really a hero: he is more of an anti-hero. He is a man who is trapped. What I am trying to do is to mix science fiction and noir together, and I thought it would be more interesting to have a bad character, rather than the usual hero.

I know you did tons of researches for this new comic, that you read many scientific and physics books. You also went to Arizona and visited the local desert for research. So, what’s about the initial seed for the story? What’s about its working in progress, its development?
As it was my desire to mix noir and science fiction, the science part comes from my own love of physics: I love to read about string theory and M-theory. Some of the ideas scientists have, are pretty far out there, they involve parallel universes, and that’s the real science. The fringe science is just as interesting, but it’s a little more conspiracy-driven. Nikola Tesla creating death rays, and Albert Einstein completing his unified field theory in 1928, but withdrawing it because the human race was not really ready for it yet: I love all that kind of stuff, and then when you mix that with noir, you have those tough, brutal, primal characters trying to just survive. I started to like this idea of this character who has these portable thermo-magnetic engines on his shoulders and then I was off.

Rasl seem to be quite a departure from the “all ages” subject of Bone, isn’t it? Were you worried that your established audience could be a bit surprise by it? Or do you simply don’t mind because this is the story you want and have to tell?
You know, I really wasn’t that worried that the people who read Bone would be upset about a more grown-up story from me. I mean, it’s just a story I want to tell and I assumed that if I just did the same thing, and if I did another Bone story, that would be lame. So the fact that it worked out was kind of lucky and there were people that were a little shocked, but I think that everybody is dealing with that alright.

What’s about the schedule for this news series? How big in scope is it? Will it be another 15-year opus as Bone?
This will not be another giant 1300 book. I probably had only one of those, I mean. I am not going to live long enough to do another book that big. I guess probably RASL will be around 350-400 pages. It depends, you know, on how the story rolls out in the end.

Let’s talk about Bone. It has been – and still is – an incredible (and well deserved) success all over the world. It’s obvious that Bone is gained the status of an evergreen comics, one of the gems of this Art form. How do you feel about that? Also, what’s your feeling to be “labelled” as the guy who creates comics accessible to kids?
You know, I don’t really think about being labelled by kids cartoonist or something like that. I just did Bone because I wanted to do it, it was something I wanted to read when I was a kid, but when I was doing it I approached it as an adult (book) talking to other adults, with classic cartoon characters. How someone wants to label it, that’s all marketing.

Regarding Bone - and I suppose a similar thing could be applied for Rasl - I have always been curious to know how difficult it was for you to manage all the different production and promotion aspects on your own. What was the most difficult part of self-publishing, for you?
The early days of self publishing require an awful lot of different... hats. You have to wear a lot of different hats, you have got to make sure your books are shipping to the right places, that you are dealing with invoices, and distributors: there is a lot of travel involved. I remember being overwhelmed by all the paperwork that was involved in the early days.
And that’s not even counting writing and drawing a strip that is liked by anybody beside your own mother. That’s always a struggle. Of course, now I have my wife, Vijaya, my business partner: she handles a lot of that stuff, as well as Steve Hamaker and Kathleen Glosan, and Tom Gaadt. I mean, I have a pretty good team that takes care of a lot of that stuff for me now, so it’s not quite as tough as it was in those early days.

You always mention Pogo by Walt Kelly as one of your major influences. Is there any other comic or cartoonist that plays a major role in inspiring you in this phase of your career?
Nowadays, one of my favourite cartoonists is Paul Pope, who does sci-fi/noir/fantasy comics, like Heavy Liquid and 100%. And whenever a new comic comes out by Paul, I get really excited and I kind of try to keep up with the level of intensity and depth that he gets in his stories and in his frames.

Let’s talk about some technical aspects. What drawing tools do you use in your work? What do you think about digital art? Have you ever resorted to Photoshop? What’s your approach to technology?
My approach to technology is almost like a double-headed coin: on one hand, my actual comic pages are pretty old school. Two-ply Bristol board, plate finish, pencil, and I use a Number 1 horse hair brush dipped in India ink: I just use that one size brush. Pretty straightforward when it comes to that. However, in the early days of Bone, I would use xerox copies or something, to replicate something in the background if it was absolutely necessary that it stayed the same. I think Photoshop is just the new version of that, so sometimes I use Photoshop to move things around: I am not afraid of it. My feeling on technology comes out of this: if you can use something in the comic and the reader doesn’t notice it or it doesn’t stop the story, then use it.

Before jumping into comics you worked as an animator. Have you ever thought about going back to doing animation, now that you are famous and respected?
Fuck no!!! [laughs]

Let’s talk about your approach to creating a story. Given that you do everything by yourself, how do you normally proceed? Do you work with a full script, or do you just write down an outline of the story? Do you always employ the same method or does it change, from time to time?
My methods are pretty consistent. I start with an outline: key element, though, is that I really like to know the ending, before I start, so usually the first thing I do is to write down the ending, and then write down the beginning, and then the middle, and then maybe find two more spots to hit on in the outline. And then... then go, baby!

A question about the visual side of your work. You normally ink yourself. How does this affect your pencils? Do you draw loosely and then put the finishing touches when inking, or do you do most of the work in the pencil stage?
I do always ink myself and because of that I draw very sketchy and very loose, and I really do the final drawing while I am inking. Sometimes I have young cartoonists asking me if I have pencils so they can have access to my pencils so they can practice inking on, and I always have to tell them that my pencils are worthless: you just couldn’t possibly ink them unless you were there when they were pencilled in my brain.

Bone was definitely a plot-driven story, a choice that doesn’t seem very common in an era where “decompressed” storytelling and cool dialogues seem to be the norm. What was the reason for this choice and what do you think about the whole “decompressed” storytelling thing?
Decompression: I just don’t think it’s that easy to label stories, you know. I am very guilty of taking whole issues for a scene, and sometimes three issues to tell one scene, as early as 1993 or 1994. I just think it depends on what the pacing of the scene is. I mean, I think people can tell if you are full of shit and you are trying to stretch something out because you don’t have a story. But if you are telling a story, and it takes a nice long time to tell it, then decompress it. If not, don’t.

Do you still have the time to read comics? Which comics and cartoonist do you follow regularly? I have always admired you for your support to the indie comics scene…
Well, the kind of comics that I like to read aren’t really mainstream comics. I don’t follow books that come out on a normal schedule. The guys I like are like Jeff Lemire, who did the Essex County Trilogy and has got a few more projects coming out that are very interesting. I mentioned Paul Pope, he is also very sporadic. That’s what I like. I like the guys that are doing stuff and when they come out they surprise me and I got to find them.

After years of rumours about an animated Bone movie, it seems that you received an interesting offer from Warner Bros. What about the status of the deal? What can you reveal to us?
Yeah, I am working on a movie with Warner Brothers right now. I learned a hard lesson last time I had a movie deal and I was working with Nickelodeon and Paramount, and so I don’t really like to talk about it. If Warner Brothers want to talk about it, they can talk about it. But they are working on it.

For a long time, your work has been published in black & white. Then Bone was coloured for the Scholastic edition and you wrote and drew the Shazam! miniseries. Did colour affect your approach to comics in any way?
I don’t think so. I had completed Bone in black and white before we even started to consider doing colour. But Shazam!, when I wrote it and drew it, I knew it would be in colour and I like to think that I would do it the same way, but you know I was aware that some things, like night skies and things like that would be a lot easier to communicate in colour. There are a few scenes where Mary Marvel and Talky Tawny are talking by the river at sunset, and I could evoke a mood with the golden colours and I knew I would get that. So, yes, in a way it gives you a little bit to lean on.

Let’s talk about Shazam! For years, you have been the embodiment of the independent attitude in comics. How did it feel to cross the barrier and work for a big publisher, such as DC Comics?
Oh, it felt alright! DC Comics called me, as I was getting near the end of Bone and asked if I wanted to work on a superhero comic, and when they suggested that I would work on Captain Marvel, I thought it was a pretty good fit. Let me just point out that they called me the week before 9/11, so I returned their call a couple of weeks later, in 2001, and I thought that superheroes were actually invented to be propaganda against the Axis, in World War II, and I thought that Captain Marvel would be a great way to talk about fighting an enemy like that. I mean, half the enemy was our own government [laughs] but it seemed to be a useful kind of thing to work with.

What was the reason behind your decision to work with DC? How was working with an editor, after years of total freedom?
I had a great experience working with DC. My editor there was Mike Carlin and to be honest with you, I kind of expected him to give me a little more trouble than he did. But really, they gave me a free hand to work with Captain Marvel, and I think Mike is a really good editor. The comments he gave, he would state them in such a way that he would make me think it was my idea, so it was a pretty good experience all around.

Why did you pick Captain Marvel, of all the DC characters?
What was really interesting to me about Captain Marvel was that he was a character who had not undergone through a revamp, one that all the characters seemed to have gone through ever since Watchmen and The Dark Knight Returns, making them very melodramatic and giving them problems and a lot of darkness. That happened to Captain Marvel’s enemy, I can’t remember his name, he’s got Captain’s Marvel suit in black instead of red [he is referring to Black Adam]. He has been updated and so he is horrible. He actually rapes and kills people, which to me is a stupid thing to have in a comic book: I don’t even understand why someone would do that, or want to read it. But Captain Marvel was not like that. He was almost like he was trapped in amber or something: he had been suspended since the early Golden age of comics and I was intrigued by working on something that would connect me so directly to the dawn of American comics.

What can you say about your soon to be released children’s graphic novel Little Mouse gets ready? How did it start? What’s the story about?
Little Mouse Gets Ready: this really is a children’s book. The idea of the Toon books series is to create graphic novels for emerging readers, I think we are talking about between 5 and 7-years old. This is the brainchild of Francoise Mouly and Art Spiegelman, and they asked me if I had an idea for a story. And the idea came up with Little Mouse. It is kind of based on a character that I had around when I was very young, sometime between six and seven or so. I just had this mouse wearing a red vest, so I thought that I could try to do something with that and concentrate on the story on a very simple level and try to draw kid to a comic from panel to panel. It was kind of fun!

A personal question. Your wife is from India and last year you went on tour there. How do you think the close interaction with a culture so different from yours had influenced and still influences you both as human being and as an artist?
I think that’s a big question. Because Vijaya’s family is from Southern India, we have been over to visit a number of times, and I think it’s had a huge effect on me, both in terms of my art and as a person. Any type of travel outside your country is going to be an eye-opening experience and most likely a good thing. I mean, I love to visit Italy or Spain and since I am usually a guest at a comic show I am always lucky enough to have people that want to take me out and get me a good meal and show off the local cuisine. It’s mind-expanding: I think it’s good for you. In terms of my artwork, in America there are certain kinds of things to see, you know, we have the mountains and the desert and the skyscrapers, but in Europe some buildings are over a thousand years old, thousands of years old. And in India, those old temples and churches are still living, and the gods are still residing on the street corners, and I think quite a bit of it made its way into Bone, especially the final act, where they are in Atheia.

A political question. I am curious to know, which are your feelings about Obama as the new USA president? I think it’s a great opportunity of change, not only for USA but for the whole world…
Well, I think you can probably tell from my answer to the Shazam! question that I was not very happy with the Bush administration. I am very happy about the Obama administration coming in and I think it’s a miracle that he kept the US economy and probably the world economy from going down the toilet, because clearly Bush and Cheney were lighting oil fields on the way out of office just like Hussein when he was leaving Kuwait [laughs]. I am very hopeful and I hope the world can forgive us for letting those bastards hang around for as long as they did.

A final question, a fan question. Any chance that you will return – sooner or later – to tell new comics stories of the Bone cousins?
I am a big fan of NOT doing sequels, but the Bone cousins have been such a big part of my life for so long, I am sure I will find some excuse to do something with them again. So, fingers crossed! [in July 2009 Jeff Smith said something more about this. Read the details at his blog]

JASPER GOODALL interview

2010-01-23T03:39:00.000-08:00

Interview by smoky man and Valentina Serra. Completed in June 2009.
Originally printed in Italy on Bang Art magazine (N. 4, Sept-Nov 2009, Coniglio Editore).
Presented here in English for the first time with the artist's permission.
Above: illustration (c) Jasper Goodall.
Jasper Goodall site: www.jaspergoodall.com

One of your latest works is a series of images titled Poster Girl, which is a very catchy mix of artwork and photography. Also, as it’s usual in your imaginary, there are several explicit erotic references combined with a strong ironical element. How important is, in your production, the right balance between eroticism and irony?
I think it is vital to have a mix of humour and irony with eroticism. I think that for a very long time erotic art and photography has an easy job to do. Sexual imagery is inherently 'interesting' to humans, whether we like it of loath it, it often produces a reaction which is what you aim to achieve in producing artwork. Erotic art can be titillating or shocking all by itself, it hasn't had to think, just to reveal some skin. BUT now I think we are seeing so much more sexual imagery, it's becoming more and more mainstream. Pornography is all over the internet, music videos are getting more and more sexual and advertising is using sex too, especially in fashion. I think it's not enough anymore to produce artwork with revealing imagery of girls. How is that different to all the sexual imagery around us now?
In my more erotic work, I try a little to comment on the sexual imagery in pornography and erotica. I like to play with and question the clichés that we are presented with.
Like why are nuns so often twisted into a sexual role? Why is pink 'sexy'? why is Latex rubber 'fetish'?
But also I think that using humour and irony is very important for the viewer and the way the work is perceived; it stops the work being purely a sexual image to be turned on by (like Porn), and pushes it into an area where it makes a comment and has intellectual content.

What do you think about the “massification” of eroticism and the gratuitous display of the female body in fields very distant from Arts?
I have mentioned these issues in the above answer, but I guess I have a mix of feelings about it.
On one side I am all for everybody hanging up their guilty feelings around sexual imagery. People do find sexual imagery a turn on, so I like that we are starting to accept that.
However I think the 'massification' as you put it, is quite shallow and cynical. The bottom line is it makes money, I think more so that exploiting women involved in it on whatever level, it exploits us all in a consumerist way.
It uses our human desire to make money, whether in a music video, a perfume advert or a porn movie. But you can say that of our 'western' consumerist society anyway, the whole of the modern worlds economy is basically built on desire, is it not? most of us want to own nicer things, have a nicer house, eat tastier food, make love to the person you think is most attractive - its all about wanting (desire) and a huge percentage of media is now devoted to exploiting out wants to make money. Sexual imagery is just the most obvious and gratuitous manifestation of this.

The “line” has a key role in your art. It’s clear that you absorbed the lesson of Masters such as Aubrey Beardsley and Erté. At the same time, there are Sixties recalls in your subjects and in their sensuality such as Barbarella creator’s Jean Claude Forest or 007 Bond’s girls… The colour seems to show affinities to the Eighties. What’s about your studies and formative years? How did you develop such a variety of references?
That’s a hard question to answer. I think the simple way is to say that I love images. Whatever area, fine art, Photography decorative art, fantasy art, ancient art.
I am fascinated by the capturing of energy and ideas in an image.
So I look at a lot of things, I have a lot of books of all sorts of stuff. I think it's vitally important to have a broad and deep sphere of influences. It worries me that I see both students and illustrators looking in a very singular direction at contemporary illustration. As it has grown over the past decade there are more and more books and websites to reference and people make the mistake of thinking that because one persons style is popular that they ought to emulate it in order to be successful and get work.
I think this is a lack of proper education and a lack of imagination. I say to all my students and to all aspiring illustrators out there: "stop looking at contemporary illustration, go out and buy books from second hand stores, look at images that are hundreds of years old, images that are 20 years old, images that were made by people in another part of the world, maybe for a spiritual reason, soak it all up and be inspired, and make work that you care about that says what you have to say, not what you think will make you money".

Modern Art has showed that what is Kitsch or Camp is not necessary ugly or “bad taste”. Which is your link with the concept of Kitsch?
Kitsch... It can be used well, or it can be purely indulgent. I think used well, to make a comment it is valid. I think it does enter into my work on some levels, but only if it had a good reason to be there. I think certain pieces of my work like 'Bad Bambi' use it and comment on it at the same time.
I think Kitsch is very close to nostalgia which I use sometimes to a small degree, like in the 'Pornogothic' series using gothic horror books movie themes to comment on sexual clichés.

Nowadays it’s not uncommon to see artists from comics or illustration working for fashion companies. You collaborated with Gucci but also for Adidas and Nike. And, sure you designed a cool sold-out bikini collection, JG4B. What can you tell us about these works?
Well not much really! The work for Gucci didn't ever actually go to press. They asked me to design a set of playing cards for them. But what I did was too edgy/modern for them, I toned things down but in the end they were just too conservative a brand to go with it and they backed out of the project!
Nike and Addidas was very much advertising, not really collaboration on fashion wear.
And JG4B lots of people love it, we make very individual bikinis. All the print is designed by me, and most is placement printed on the bikini - not a repeat pattern. They are fun, cool, different to most of the boring swimwear out there. But getting a fashion brand of the ground is very hard, we are hoping to have a new collection out next year, but things are very much in the balance right now.

Can you talk about your processes? What kind of material do you use? What’s about the starting point of an idea?
The starting point is almost always writing. I make lists. I don't really sketch much. I look at books with an idea in mind and sometimes that makes my idea change or re-form.
Then I sometimes make photo-collages on the computer from lots and lots of reference images I have collected. Then I print these out and re-draw them then scan them back in and trace them with at path. I draw some stuff in Illustrator, some in photoshop, some by hand some on the mac.
I take photographs of textures sometimes and use them in the. Obviously for the poster girl series I had large prints and one acrylic cutout made and shot them in a studio with a model. So my process is very eclectic. But always uses the computer as the central point of a number of ways of working.

You are a Brit and considering how old you are, I am curious to know if you were in any way influenced by the growing new wave of British comics like 2000 AD, Judge Dredd, Tank Girl…?
Yes I think I was, I loved 2000 ad. I think Simon Bisley's ACB warriors and Slaine was the best.

What’s about your ultimate dream project?
A show in New York? I'd love to use my creativity in other ways - collaborate on a film maybe?
I went to Paris recently and went to the Crazy Horse cabaret show there. It would be cool to work on branding for them or even a new act in the show - I liked how inventive it was - not just stripping!
Really I think I want to be selling my prints and starting to make original pieces and move in a more gallery oriented direction. If I can be lucky enough to keep producing work that people like and want to own I'll be every happy... thats the long term aim!

JUNKO MIZUNO interview

2010-01-23T03:26:00.000-08:00

Interview by smoky man. Completed in May 2009.
Originally printed in Italy on Bang Art magazine (N. 4, Sept-Nov 2009, Coniglio Editore).
Presented here in English for the first time with the artist's permission.
Junk Mizuno site: www.mizuno-junko.com

What do you think about the scene of art toys and collectable vinyls? When and how did you start? What's your current involvement?
I'm just surprised at how the scene has grown so big.
I started designing toys in 2002 by request of a Japanese toy company Art Storm. As for current involvement, some characters from my graphic novel Pure Trance will be released as a series of mini figures from Kidrobot in June [2009. Editor's note: The figures are sold out now.].

In the past you worked for important art toys companies like Toy2r and Kidrobot. What can you tell us about those experiences?
It's been challenging for me. At first, I was nervous as it seemed to be very difficult to work on 3D objects with people who I can't meet and communicate in person like I used to do with Japanese companies. But they were very professional and I'm happy with the products I made with them. There are a lot to learn from them and it's been a rewarding experience.

Do you think that toys are a good way to express your Art vision or what? I mean, in respect to comics and illustration...
That's a difficult question as I'm doing it just because it's fun...
What I like about a toy is that it has a different impression from 2D work. It feels fresh and inspiring to see my characters in 3D.

Also, which you consider the best toy you created or the one you are most attached to?
It's too hard to choose. They are all my babies.

You created and still create toys. I am curious to know are you a collector too? And if you are (and I am pretty sure you are or at least you had been one), what do you collect?
I used be a collector of girl's toys from 60's to 80's but I've slowed down now...
I have no more room in my place. I still like going to check toy stores and toy events for inspiration, though.

Recently you have started a collaboration with Japanese company "GARDEN" creating a new line of products under the label Mizuno Garden. The concept says: Mizuno Garden is a paradise of erotic fantasy where the fruits of love are always ripe. The crops include beautiful lingerie, costumes, condoms, lotions, vibrators, and more!” Till now you created the gorgeous package for condoms and lotions, but I suppose there are plans for some toys. Can you reveal anything about it?
We've been planning to do some massagers, lingerie and costumes but the project is going very slowly due to both my and their schedules. So unfortunately, there's nothing I can reveal to you at this point...

JH WILLIAMS III interview

2009-12-13T13:05:00.000-08:00

Interview by smoky man and Antonio Solinas. Completed in May 2009.
Originally printed in Italy on Scuola di Fumetto magazine (N. 69, July 2009, Coniglio Editore).
Presented here in English for the first time with the artist's permission.
Above: Cover for Promethea N. 12. Promethea published by DC Comics.
JH Williams III site: www.jhwilliams3.com

1. Could you talk about your collaboration with Alan Moore on Promethea? How did it start?
Hmmm... I'm not sure where to start with this question, considering it has been around ten years since the time of starting Promethea. Basically I was working on a graphic novel called Son Of Superman at the time when I received a call from Scott Dunbier inquiring about my schedule. He was asking because I had been recommended to him By Todd Klein and Alex Ross for this new Alan Moore series titled Promethea. Of course I was thrilled to hear this. Scott quickly informed me that I was not their first choice because they had been looking for a more established artist that had a name known by the fans. At this time in my career I was not as well known as I am now. So I completely understood Wildstorm's position in wanting as high profile a talent as possible for Alan. However Scott said he had been convinced to give me a call. He asked if I could send along samples of work to him to forward to Alan. After looking at my examples, Alan told Scott that I was the right choice. Very exciting for someone like me during that time in my career. So when they officially offered me the project I thought about it for a few days and then agreed to take it on. The most gratifying compliment I received was about a year or so into the work, Scott Dunbier, the editor, said to me..."Jim, you know you were not my first choice for Promethea, but now I can't imagine anyone else drawing this project but you." That was such an amazing thing to hear, to have won him over so completely was very rewarding. It showed me that I was onto something unique with my work.

2. What's about yr type of collaboration in the series (e.g. any input in the script from yrour side; your page layout on the series were stunning, were they suggested by Moore or you proposed the approach, and so on...)?
Early In the process, before Alan started writing, we had a few conversations on the phone about things we were both interested in and would like to see come out of the main concept. He asked a lot about subjects I was interested in and those sorts of things made their way into the details of the backgrounds and story points. As for the imaginative layouts, I drew the first issue based on his script details, which had a couple of interesting layout ideas. I took those and built a lot on top of this, after all, I was already into unorthodox page design by this point in my art, as seen here and there in previous projects. So I heavily expanded upon this and when Alan saw what I was doing it seemed to excite him. I remember us having a conversation about design specifically after the first issue was completed and told him I really want to push this design notion to further complexities. So from that point on he really started to gear the scripting more and more in that experimental direction in terms of the visual presentation. Over the course of the series he would put into the scripts all kinds of ideas, some I would use and some I wouldn't. Quite often I came up with things on my own. He always trusted me to do the right thing. The final result for the visual presentation of the page design layouts is about 50% my ideas and 50% Alan's. A true collaboration!
During the Qaballah Quest issues (13 - 22) I had told Alan I really wanted to take the experimentation even further by toying with the art styles themselves. We devised this idea because during the story the characters would travel from one different reality to another, from issue to issue. So it made perfect sense to communicate to the reader just how different each new world was by changing the look of the art dramatically to suit each new reality. Alan loved this idea for the visual context and we would have a conversation before he would write each of those issues, to figure out the art style it should be and then would write the script around that style. So everything was very cohesive. We were both so willing to take things as far to the edge as possible. To see just what was possible.

3. What kind of impact Promethea and working with Moore had on you as an artist and, in general, as an human being?
I'd say the most impact was the creative freedom I had. I was truly allowed to explore any artistic notion and this led to many discoveries on just what comics can do and what I could be capable of, particularly in something considered "mainstream superhero" comics. Before coming onto Promethea I was already getting experimentation into my work, but the creative freedoms that came with Promethea allowed me to explore this to a much fuller extent. It allowed me to show what I could do and what was possible for how a story can be told. Another way it was a learning experience for me was learning more about metaphysics. This was a subject that I was already interested before my work on Promethea. So the project was a natural fit for me and and allowed me to grow in those areas as well. Alan was definitely more thoughtful and knowledgeable than I was at the time. However, due to my prior interest in metaphysics, I was able to meet the challenges that the series was to bring head on. And basically I have continued with this ever since Promethea ended and apply this to many things in my life including all of my since.

4. Any "strange magical" anecdotes to share with us related to yr long run on the series?
A couple things come to mind... when working on the abyss issue, where the characters have to cross a great dark divide in order to reach the highest forms of reality, they had to make it through a destroyed reality, Alan had called to warn me about possible physical dangers I might face while working on this issue. While he was writing this particular issue he had become very ill and became better upon completion of the script. He was convinced this was due to the thoughts on this negative reality becoming manifest physically. He actually experienced many of the sensations the characters did in the story. So he thought it best to warn me that strange things could occur while drawing. As I worked on the issue and got closer and closer to the middle of the issue where we show this black hole in the reality that leads to the inverse negative Tree Of Life, I began to not feel well and started having chest pains. The closer I got to drawing this black hole scene the worse my chest pain became, to such a degree I went to the emergency room to get looked at by a doctor. They ran an EKG test, among others, to see if maybe I was having a heart attack. After all of the tests were done the doctor couldn't find an explanation for what was occurring. During this time I had kept working on the issue. As I got past the drawing of the black hole scene and started to reach the end of the issue all of my chest pain and feeling bad went away without any further incident. When Mick was inking that issue I remember him saying that everyone in his house came down with the flu or cold virus or something. How's that for odd?

5. You also worked with two other British well-known writers: Grant Morrison (on Seven Soldiers and Batman series) and Warren Ellis (on Desolation Jones). What's about collaborating with them? What do you think are their best qualities? In which they differ?
Working with Grant is always a pleasure. His stories are loaded with energy and one mad idea after another. His scripts are very surreal in a way. You have to kind of decipher them to get to the heart of it all. Quite an interesting challenge. He and I feel like we're on the same page in terms of how to tell stories. He is very open and gives me the freedom to do what I think needs to be done. I really enjoy Grant's surrealness. His ideas are always big and wild and mind bending. That is something I highly appreciate and I can grasp. Hopefully that shows in the work we've done together.
Working with Warren was challenging as well. Desolation Jones allowed me to explore different ways of storytelling much in the same way Promethea gave that freedom as well. Just in a completely different manner than Promethea, which was good to stretch my creative boundaries in new ways. Warren has this amazing way of telling a very darkly toned story that can point out the horrors of humanity without losing soul. There is always heart and soul in his grimmest work that shows you even more about being human than the horrific elements do.

6. You have worked both as a cover illustrator and a comic artist. What are the different challenges in those two different roles and how do you approach them? In particular, what is the process behind a cover illustration of yours?
Well the main difference with doing covers versus interior pages is that the cover doesn't always need to be story specific, and if you are going to do a story specific cover there are ways of designing it so it just isn't a giant story panel. There are a lot of covers that read as just a giant story panels to me and these are the least interesting to me. So my goal is to create covers that give the reader dynamic captivating imagery by using heavy design concepts instead that feature elements or ideas from the story. My process for this is very simple actually. I don't over think it and go with my initial idea. I approach covers ideas with an immediacy to design aspects in my thinking process. I know a lot of artists will do a few different sketch concepts for each cover before they choose what they are going to do. I will do that only once in a while. On most occasions, I will know what I want to do after thinking about it for a day or so and then do a very rough sketch for basic composition to show the editor. Once they approve the composition I will get started on the work based on any notes they may have. The end result needs to be a cover that can grab one's eye as they scan the shelves among the competition of other books.

7. Can you tell us anything about your creative process when you draw comics? How do you approach the pages? Your inking is very tight: do you lay down detailed pencils and then ink, or do you rely on the strength of your inking technique?
When I was penciling and working with an inker my pencils were pretty much as tight as finished inked work, but now that I do my own inking I don't do finished pencils at all. It is all sketched out using non photo blue pencil and pretty loose by my standards, so no traditional pencil work. A lot of details just won't be there because I know I can add that with ink. As an additional note: my page layout process is very similar to the way I approach covers, in that I don't over think what I'm going to do. I don't do any thumbnails, except for sometimes I will draw a little diagram of the rough panel shapes. So all of my design is on the board as I work. This gives me some flexibility to make changes if something isn't working the way I thought. It allows for the design process to be metamorphic and more spontaneous.

8. In this respect, you chose to ink your own work after collaborating with inkers. What were the reasons and what kind of improvement did inking your pencils bring to your pages?
The main reason I started to ink my own work was to expand my horizons creatively. It allows me to explore more variety of styles, to do things that are impossible to convey in just pencil form and expect an inker to translate things properly. This is the same reason for not doing full pencils anymore. It gives me freedom to change styles at will without worrying about it, giving my work a transformational aspect. I enjoy this greatly because I think I'm better able to convey what I think a panel, or scene, or sequence needs. I just couldn't grow as an artist being just a penciler, I was feeling limited. So that is why I've taken on so much more of the art chores. I'm doing this with color as well, to some degree, coloring certain panels, coloring my own covers and such. I feel I need to constantly expand my skills, to learn. By doing this, and thinking in this way, it opens up the possibilities of what I can try to achieve creatively.

9. How did you develop your style and its blend of photorealism tempered by a very graphic way of inking? Do you look at any other artist working in comic right now for inspiration?
I'd say that is my main style but currently don't feel limited to that and I think that shows in a lot of things I've done over the years. I'm not sure how the relatively realistic look developed other than trying to draw the things I see around me, from everyday life, applying that to telling comics stories. I think it helps to get the readers to believe in what they are reading, no matter how wild and crazy it might be when examined. I try my best not to be influenced by other artists, if possible. The only times I will let influence show is when I purposefully allow it because I'm really trying to gain a specific feel for a scene or character, and to learn something from that process as well. I also use that trick to pay tribute to different artists or art techniques or styles. But, even when I do that, I try to apply it to my way of thinking in terms of storytelling, such as layout and composition presentation, so I don't lose myself, so it has some of my signature storytelling tricks.

10. Do you feel like there are other people doing something similar to you? I mean, Sean Phillips, in a different context, seems to be working on a style which blends realism with a graphic approach. Anyone you feel in particular?
Yeah, I think there are quite a few artists, like myself, that come from a more realistic sense to the visuals. But each manage to make that idea uniquely their own. Besides Sean Phillips, there is Jae Lee, Tony Harris, Scott Hampton, Leonardo Manco to name just a few. However, I don't think that any of us are too similar, even though we come from similar modes of thinking in the way we approach drawing style.

11. How do you feel about Photoshop and technology applied to comics? Do you ever use the computer as help for your illustrations?
Phtotoshop is an amazing thing. It doesn't bother me at all that many artists that work in comics rely on digital techniques. There are quite a few that work completely digital. The only only real sad part of that is so much of the art does not exist physically for collector's. I try do most of my work physically on the board. I will use digital techniques for art changes if needed and for basic color work. But even with color I try to keep doing painting so my skills stay strong. But when doing painted work for covers or pages I will use Photoshop to enhance things if need be, alter textures or color adjustments, or for mixed media concepts.

12. Where do you feel your graphic style is going and where do you see yourself in 5 years time, say?
I really don't know. It's impossible for me to make such predictions because I like to keep myself open to new ideas. I'd say my main concern for the future is to keep growing creatively, to not limit myself in anyway, to keep true to fluid thinking. This is the main reason I've managed to do some of the things I have so far. I like challenges.

13. What can you reveal us about your upcoming comics projects or the things you are currently working on? Any Promethea-related? By the way, I loved your Jonah Hex’s issue, simply spectacular…
Oh, I'm glad you liked the Jonah Hex issue. That was extremely fun to do and would love to do more western themed comics in the future. I hope that opportunity arises someday. I'm currently working on Detective Comics with Greg Rucka, Dave Stewart, and Todd Klein. Our run will be featuring Batwoman. I'll be doing that for awhile. Beyond that, I don't know yet. There are some creator owned things I'd like to do if the situation is right, we'll see. And for Promethea... There will be Absolute editions produced over then next couple of years. I'm contributing a lot of work towards those. Such as new covers, new design material, 32 new chapter head designs. The first volume won't have a lot in the way of extra material due to the page count but it will have an Afterword by my friend, Brad Meltzer. Volumes 2 and 3 will have lot's of fun things. Our goal is get everything Promethea in there. So we will have commission pieces and con sketches and stuff like that. It will be good stuff.

14. What’s your dream project in comics? Maybe you would like to write and draw your own graphic novel, wouldn’t you?
My dream project, or projects, are all creator owned concepts. I've been slowly working on a lot of things in the writing stages for a long time. I have an idea or two that I've been working on that I will be the artist for as well the writing. I also have concepts that I'd like to write for other artists, the way I did with the sorely missed Seth Fisher for Batman: Snow. Right now I'm in the middle of a second script draft to a 150 page graphic novel being written for Laurenn McCubbin. I'd really like to get my career moved into the direction of creating my own new material, but it's tricky getting publishers interested in my writing because they are so invested in my drawing, so it's a bit tough to get things going. Also, it has to be financially sound because I need to be able to make a living too.

TODD KLEIN interview

2009-10-27T15:18:00.000-07:00

Interview by smoky man and Antonio Solinas. Conducted in March 2009.
Originally printed in Italy on Scuola di Fumetto magazine (N. 68, June 2009, Coniglio Editore).
Presented here in English for the first time.
Todd Klein blog: kleinletters.com/Blog

1. How did you start your career and why did you choose lettering?
After discovering in high school that I had no particular interest in other careers, I spent two years in art school at the School of Visual Arts in New York City and the Kansas City Art Institute (1969-71), before running out of tuition money. I then worked at several boring jobs, including putting together instruction manuals for air conditioners. In my spare time, I began submitting art, and occasionally writing, to science fiction, fantasy and comics fanzines, with some success. I was a fan and long-time reader of all three. In 1977, after putting together a portfolio, I applied for work at several New York comic book publishers.
At DC Comics I was offered a two-week trial in the Production Department, doing art and lettering corrections and paste-ups, to fill in for a vacationing employee. At the end of the two weeks, that employee decided not to come back, and a glorious career in comics began. While on staff I learned the basics of hand-lettering from John Workman, also on staff then. While I tried other things, like writing, inking and coloring comics, lettering seemed the best fit for me, and the direction I've mostly followed.

2. Your early influences include people like Gaspar Saladino, John Workman, Tom Orzechowski and Joe Rosen. What do you think you learned from them? Furthermore, are there any lettering people whose work you follow today?
Well, what I learned from them was how to make lettering that looked good, I guess. Once I mastered the basics, studying the details of style in those who influenced me, and copying it in my own way when I could, allowed me to develop my own style. I can't say there are any current letterers who I follow closely, though I try to keep an eye on what's being done.

3. You started in an era when computer lettering did not exist. How do those times compare to today and is there anything you miss about those pre-internet days?
When I began in the comics business in 1977, all the elements on a page of comics were done by hand. Today it's possible for all of them to be done on a computer, though much of the artwork is still done by hand first, then scanned onto a computer. The evolution of desktop publishing powered by inexpensive but powerful desktop and laptop computers, especially those made by Apple, began in the 1980s, and started having an impact on comics lettering soon after, though the effects were gradual.
For lettering comics pages, the computer has some distinct advantages and some disadvantages. Lettering SANDMAN on the computer, for instance, would have been a nightmare, because every time Neil Gaiman wanted a new lettering style for a character, I'd have to create a new font, a very time-consuming process. For a book like, say, CAPTAIN AMERICA, where the need for lots of styles is absent, the computer can be quite a timesaver. Over the years I've tried to develop a library of fonts that will serve in most situations without becoming stale, and now that nearly all the work I'm doing is on the computer, I've gotten comfortable with that, though I still enjoy the challenge of hand-lettering on those rare occasions when I'm asked to. While there are now many advantages for computer lettering for the comics companies, there are still comics artists who would prefer to have the lettering on their pages. First, it would save them some drawing time (not having to draw where you KNOW a big caption will be), same for the inkers and colorists. Second, comics tell a story, and a page of comics art without the lettering is only half the story. Selling a page of comics art with lettering is usually easier for that reason. So, there are still some hand-lettering holdouts, but they're dwindling fast against the rising tide of digital convenience.

4. How has computer lettering changed your way of approaching your job?
The main change is sitting down in front of a computer instead of at the drawing board. Otherwise, I think my approach is similar: try to do the best job I can with the tools at hand.

5. Lettering is a very important part of comics, but as Richard Starkings says, a letterer’s job is successful when you do not notice it, basically. Do you agree with that? In your opinion, which is the main feature a good lettering has to have?
Well, the lettering is part of the package, and when done well it helps tell the story without being distracting. So, bad lettering will stand out and interfere with that. Good lettering will be part of the entire reading experience, enhancing it, but there are times when good lettering can also stand out and be noticed. Not enough to distract from the story, just enough for the reader to see and appreciate it. So, I don't agree. Just as in a film, where very good music or sets or costumes can be noticed and appreciated while still enjoying the story, so it is with very good lettering. Or inking, or pencilling or writing or coloring.

6. You are known for the versatility of your lettering and for the elegant letter design. Can you describe the process of creating custom made fonts for your lettering? When you designed “the voices” of characters in Sandman, did you get to talk to the writer before using the lettering styles you had created for them?
It depends on the writer and the project. Some writers have many suggestions, some leave it to me. Neil Gaiman usually had a lot of input in the lettering choices I made, Alan Moore, for instance, usually made a few suggestions and then left it to me. As for the process, all I can say is, I look for the style that seems right for the character or situation, drawing on my knowledge of comics and non-comics art and design.

7. How did the collaboration with Alan Moore and JH Williams work on Promethea? Can you describe the process in detail? How did the experimental solutions came about and what was your input?
Nearly everything you see in Promethea was described first by Alan in his scripts. J.H. added details and styles to that. I worked more closely with J.H. on the look of the lettering than with Alan, who, as I said, tends to just make a few suggestions and then leave it to me. J.H. likes to have a lot of input, and we often discussed styles and lettering ideas as the series went along.

8. You are a well-respected logo designer: in particular, your work for the ABC line was remarkable. What can you tell us about that? Can you talk about the process?
With the ABC books I was essentially the cover designer, and worked with the artists and Alan to come up with the covers from start to finish. Sometimes Alan would have a firm idea, sometimes the artist would, sometimes I would. It varied a lot. The logos and type for each issue of Tom Strong and Promethea were designed with a particular style in mind, each one different. It was a lot of work, but also lots of fun, most of the time. It would begin with Alan's concept for the issue's contents, and from there we'd settle on a style. Then I'd research it, get examples, and work with the artist, sometimes giving them a layout first, sometimes working from their layout. When the art was done I would do final logo and type designs, making everything fit and work together.

9. Has any of the artistic teams you worked with ever complained about issues related to lettering?
Oh, I can think of a few, but I won't name any names. Most of the people I've worked with have seemed to like what I do.

10. What do you think of companies like Comicraft selling commercial lettering fonts? Does this bother you in any way?
I have no problem with it. Commercial fonts from vendors like Comicraft and Blambot have allowed more artists to do their own lettering, which I think is a good thing, if they want to. And when they do, they're letterers. Well-made fonts will allow anyone to reach a certain level of competence, but to excell with them takes practice and skill.

11. Your ToddKlone fonts are a sort of “holy grail” of lettering fonts, as you keep them for yourself. Are they ever going to be commercially released (maybe when you will retire)?
I may, when that time comes. I have no plans for it as of now.

12. Can you talk about the various prints you created with your collaborators, with Moore, Gaiman and Ross? I find them a really great idea…
While the production of these signed prints might seem like a savvy business plan, in fact I kind of happened on it. After thinking about it for years, in January 2007 I started working on a website for myself. Looking at other websites I liked, I noted that all of them had an “items for sale” section of some kind, and I thought I should do that, too. I put together a short list of things to sell, including two 11 by 17 inch prints I had made in the 1990s, and when the website launched in July 2007, they were on my Buy Stuff page.
For the first few weeks I made sales, but that dropped off to almost nothing by the end of July, and I pondered what new things I could do to add to the list. New prints of my own lettering was an option, but I couldn’t think of anything really novel in that line. Then it occurred to me to try collaborating with some of the popular and well-liked creators I’d been working with for years. The first two that came to mind were Alan Moore and Neil Gaiman. Those were names that could get some attention and generate sales. Of the two, I was in touch more regularly with Alan, so I started with him, and we produced “Alphabets of Desire,” which to my shock was a runaway hit, with the first printing selling out in less than three days.
Okay, then, success! And, why not more? Within days of putting Alan’s print on sale in early December I emailed Neil about the possibility of him writing one for me. The answer came back, “Sure.” It took some months, but he finally delivered a poem to me that I thought would make a fine print. I worked up a design, lettered and drew it, and "Before You Read This" became the second print.
Next I began to think about doing a third print, this time collaborating with an artist rather than a writer. I’d had an idea: a boy sits happily reading a comic, while around and above him are a cloud of phantom word balloons and captions, representing some of the comics he’s reading, or has read. Above that is an obscure image of a flying super-hero, perhaps one the boy is reading about or imagining himself as, and at the top a large title, “Comic Book Dreams.” The title would feature a large letter C at the beginning, continuing the alphabetical theme of the first two prints (something I hadn’t planned, it just happened.)
My ideal choice for artist was Alex Ross, but I didn’t know if he’d have time or would be interested in doing it.
I gave Alex a call and nervously made my proposal. Happily, he agreed right away, and from my description said he already had a visual in mind. Again, it took some months, but finally Alex delivered the art, and I put the print together with the lettering. Detailed descriptions of the creation of each print are on my blog, if you want to know more.

13. Which are the works you are most proud of? Any works which you were not happy about?
If I had to pick one project I'm most proud of it would be the entire run of Sandman. There are many others I like a great deal, too, including most of my collaborations with Alan Moore. In a long career there are always going to be some projects that didn't come out the way one would like, but I'm not going to name any.

14. In your career you won several Eisner Awards and it is not a surprise that you are considered one of the best letterers in the field. Have you got any dreams left to chase? In the past you wrote a couple of comics: is there more writing in the near future, for you? I know you also play music, any news about this?
I'm so busy with the work in hand I don't have time for either new writing or music these days, I'm afraid. If lettering and design work slows down for me, or when I decide to cut back on it in later years, there might be time for more of those. Meanwhile, some of the Green Lantern Corps stories I wrote have recently been reprinted by DC Comics in trade paperback form (with stories by others), so that's nice. And the music I've recorded is available on my website.

DAVE GIBBONS interview [2]

2009-10-08T04:06:00.000-07:00

Interview by smoky man and Antonio Solinas. Answers received as mp3 files the 15th and 16th of May 2007.
Transcription by Antonio Solinas in collaboration with smoky man
Originally printed in Italy on Lezioni di Fumetto: Dave Gibbons (October 2008, Coniglio Editore).
An interview excerpt was previously printed in Italy on Scuola di Fumetto magazine (N. 54, September 2007, Coniglio Editore).
Presented here in English for the first time with the permission of the author.

Above: Watchmen sketch. Watchmen is published by DC Comics.

DAVE GIBBONS interview [1]

11. Can you describe your average working day? How many hours do you typically work? Is it like a regular day job, with a precise working schedule or you just follow your Muse? Are there days when you are really productive and other times when you simply recharge your creative batteries?
G.: This is very appropriate because my working day is coming to an end, any minute!
My average working day: I try (and I have always tried) to work regular office hours because I find this work much better, integrating yourself with the rest of the world, with your wife, your family, your friends. So I generally try to be in the office by 9 o’clock, and I generally leave around 6, and I have an hour in the middle, where I have my lunch.
These days, I probably spend another hour, at least, messing around on the internet, sending emails or checking up on what’s going on. That kind of standing around the water cooler or having a cup of coffee moment.
The productivity will change from day to day. Some days I get very little done, it seems, other days I get a lot done: I mean, to be honest, today I haven’t really done much other than doing this interview today, I have done some emails, I spoke to an editor on the phone, I have written a few notes on things.
(On the other hand) I had one day, last week, when I pencilled three pages in a day, which is as fast as I have worked on anything.
You can wait on the Muse, but you really have to be there, in front of the computer, or in front of the drawing board, with a pencil in your hand, or with a mouse in your hand, because things are not going to happen when you’re lying around in bed at home.
Although, having said that, sometimes going for a walk or whatever can be very productive when it comes to incubating the germs of ideas.
So, it is a regular day job, although the output is by no means regular. Over the years, and over a long stretch of time, you get to know how things average out. I wouldn’t be able to pencil 3 pages every day. If I did pencil three pages in a day, I would probably be so tired the next day that I would probably do just one, so that would average out at the two pages a day, which would be something I would be quite happy with, anyway.
As it happens, today, because I went away the weekend of the (Bristol) Comic Convention and I was working quite hard before that, I guess I am “recharging my batteries”.

12. What about your studio? What kind of tools do you use? I know you have a Macintosh computer since early 90’s: what is your relationship with technology?
G.: At the moment I am working in an office, not at home. I’ve moved house a few times, so I have had different homes. I did share a studio with Mick McMahon in the early 80’s, which was a good experience. I wouldn’t mind sharing a studio again if I could find somebody as “simpatico” and nearby. It’s not a very big room here. It’s maybe 4 meters square, something like that, mainly full of books. I have got a drawing table, a trolley with my drawing equipment in it, and a computer with all the bits and pieces, a printer, a large scanner and so on.
On the computer I use Photoshop®, Illustrator®, Painter®, Poser®, Manga Studio®, Word®, and I am using a thing called Wiretap Pro® to record these little interviews…
To draw, I use Colerase blue pencils, which are nice, because you don’t have to erase them after inking, although you can erase them while you are working so you see more clearly what you are doing. I tend to draw on the Bristol boards that the companies supply. I used to ink with dip pens and brushes, but now I use disposable pens, mainly because the drawing pens and the brushes are nothing like the quality they used to be, so I use a Fountain Pentel pen, which has a nice thick and thin nip, and I use Fineline markers, and I use Faber-Castell Pit brushpens, which put down a nice Indian ink line. That’s about it, really: very simple, what you need to draw comics with.
I have had a Mac since the early 90’s. My friend Angus McKie kind of got me turned on to them.
I had a Quadra, then a PowerMac 8500. Now I have got a G5 dual processor, with a nice big screen. I like to use graphic tablets, and what I really have got my heart set on is a Wacom Cintiq tablet, which is like a pressure sensitive monitor, so you actually draw straight onto the image. I have had one of those on loan and it’s a fantastic tool to use. Maybe when I get a big check, I will buy myself one of those.

13. In the Originals GN you used a lot of digital techniques and the result was quite unique and stylish. Was that style you used in the Originals a one-off or do you plan to move to fully digital art in the same vein of someone like Brian Bolland?
G.: I suppose I used a lot of digital techniques in The Originals, but I still drew everything on the Bristol board.
The digital technique was that I actually scripted the whole thing using FinalDraft™, and then imported in into Word™ (actually first as a movie, without breaking it into pages).
Then I broke the whole thing down into pages, and I printed out some little grids (because I wanted it to be based on a grid, in order to have some kind of a formal feel). The grids were then enlarged in Illustrator™ (with Illustrator™ vector grids you can do that without any loss of quality) and I combined the grid panels so that they would form the shape and the size of the final panels I wanted to use. My son did the typesetting: I gave him the script and he cut it and pasted it from the script, using a font that Richard Starkings at Comicraft made for me. I then arranged the lettering the way I wanted it, and then I printed it out at art size (with the grids) in non-reproducing blue.
I then drew in them (in blue), then inked over it, scanned it back into the computer, dropped that into a kind of composite file in Photoshop, which had the lettering and frames on one level, and under that the line drawing, and underneath that the layer that I would use for the grey tones. And I stuck to a kind of a limited palette of grey tones, and some blends and some gradients. And then I added some noise, so that it wouldn’t look too computer-ish, but rather like it was painted.
The kind of look I was going for is the sort of thing you would see in the Warren magazines. I was very impressed (as most people I know were) with what Alex Toth used to do with duotone board or wash, so that was the kind of feeling that I was after.
I have got no plans to move to fully digital art, although, as I said, if I can get one of those Cintiq graphic tablets and get used to drawing on that, then it might become more of a natural thing to do. I still really feel (using regular graphics tablets) that you need to do the line drawing on paper, because it feels more informal, more direct.
Also, I tend to move my hand in a reasonably quick way when I draw, whereas Brian, for instance, has always moved rather slowly, and so he probably doesn’t experience the same difference drawing on screen, where you need really to draw using a separate tablet and then look at the screen. You have to move in a rather (I find) cautious kind of way, or be forever undoing and redoing the strokes. So, I use digital techniques whenever I can to make the work quicker and better in quality. I’ll see how things go.

14. Let’s talking about comics and comic-based movies. What do you think about the current, close “relationship” between comics and Hollywood? Do you see it as something good, which will have a positive effect in attracting new readers? Is it something to finally get some sort of recognition for comics as a “true” Art form? Or, on the contrary, do you see it as something that will result in comics still considered as a minor Art form, something that “exists just because there is a movie based on it”?
G.: Comics and movies are two completely different media. Superficially, they seem to be the same, and a lot of the terminology seems to be used in both media, but they are very different. I think it’s generally good for comics that Hollywood movies are going out there. Certainly, it makes people more receptive to the kind of subject matter that you get in comics. How many of they would actually go out and buy the comics, I don’t know. I think with something like X-Men, or Spider-Man, it’s a question of: “where do you start buying the comics?”. There are the novelisations of the movies, I guess, but then you are reading the story that you have already watched, and you are reading it kind of in reverse: you have seen the movie, now you are seeing a kind of a static version of it, which is kind of unsatisfying, no matter how well done the comic is, and a lot of them have been very well done. I am thinking of Jerry Ordway’s Batman movie adaptation, and Archie Goodwin and Walt Simonson’s Alien, which was amazing.
So, I don’t know how many people pick up a comic because they have seen a movie, or if they even know which comic to pick up. It’s a little bit different with something self-contained like V For Vendetta or, I suppose I have to say, Watchmen, because in those cases you have something which is a complete graphic novel, a book-size book: you don’t have to buy years of continuity. And they are things which already have a kind of artistic integrity on their own. So if you have seen the movie, to actually see the original version, you are getting a different treatment. It’s actually interesting in that you are seeing the seed or the prototype for what eventually ended up in the movie. You can make you mind up whether what you saw in the movie was more satisfying than what is in the comic book.
So, I don’t think it really helps the recognition of comics as an artform. Hopefully, it gets people to read certain comics, and they then appreciate it as an artform. Basically, anything that gets people reading comics is something that I would have to be in favour of. I suppose the reverse side is the movie is so dire that people think: “Oh, comics is crap, they have this kind of banal stories and very obvious characterisation”. I think for instance, about the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, which, I have to tell you, I didn’t watch all the way through. I paused it half an hour before the end to go make a cup of tea or something, and I actually never watched the rest of it, in contrast of the comic book, which is wonderful and fantastic work by Alan and Kevin O’Neill. The movie just doesn’t do it justice, but I imagine the sales (of the comic) have improved, so that’s some consolation.

15. Back to Watchmen and… Hollywood, again.
Watchmen has been in the process of becoming a movie for almost as long as the book has been in print. At one point Terry Gilliam was set to helm it but the project fell away, as did one a couple of years ago with Requiem for a Dream's Darren Aronofsky attached. In 2005 it was in Greengrass' (director of The Bourne Supremacy) hands and it seemed to become a real thing but it didn’t. Now, it’s Zach Snyder’s turn who’s fresh of the huge and a bit unexpected success of his adaptation of Frank Miller’s 300. There are unofficial news that he will start shooting this summer with an esteemed budget around $150 million dollars and that the movie will be released in 2008. Also, it’s known that comics artists Adam Hughes and John Cassaday are at work on some costume re-design.
So, first which is your feeling regarding a silver screen version of Watchmen? I am also keeping in mind that Alan Moore has always been pretty critical on his works adaptations. Are you involved in any way? Did they ask you any supervision or any suggestion? E.g., David Lloyd was pretty supportive about the V flick.
G.: Referring to my previous answers, comics and comics-based movies are completely different beasts. I basically wish the Watchmen movie well, and I think that every point the people have been involved with it have genuinely been respectful of it and wanted to do the best job they can. I think this is so in Zack Snyder’s case. I have spoken to Zack several times, met him and we’re both very enthusiastic about it. I have read the screenplay that David Hayter wrote a year or two ago and met him. He was very enthusiastic and certainly had done an amazing job with the adaptation, boiling things down into a two-hour movie.
I believe that the current script has had some further re-writing by I guy named, I think, Alex Tse. I haven’t read that script yet, I hope to read it soon.
I basically expressed to Zack Snyder and Warner Bros that I am happy to help. If they need visuals, I would consider doing that. I am perfectly happy to be positive in the publicity, because I do respond to enthusiasm and I do genuinely believe that they are trying to do right by the movie.
Now, how satisfied the fans would be with their adaptation, I really don’t know. I think the thing is with any item that has a huge fan base, they are never going to be satisfied with any adaptation of it, because it’s never going to hit all the points that they love. There are always going to be revisions, there’s always going to be boiling down, there are always going to be things cut out. I think what I would be concerned about is that it was done in an intelligent way and that it was true, at least, to the spirit of the book.
How much of Watchmen will end up on the screen I don’t know. There is all the pirate stuff, which is integral to the book, but isn’t absolutely essential for the movie, although nowadays of course we have DVDs that can hold large amounts of extra footage and stuff, so… It’s always possible that that might be included in that incarnation.
I am not sufficiently close to the production to really be able to talk about it in any detail, so, in some ways, I am as interested to see what comes over the internet as anybody else. It was a complete surprise to me to see the frame that was kind of “sneaked” into the 300 trailer that was up online, and that seems to have created an amazing amount of interest.
I am obviously more aware than anyone else of Alan Moore’s attitude towards screen adaptations of his work, and I completely respect his take on that, and he respects my point of view as well.
Although I like to think we are very good friends, Alan and I are very different people. We have had different careers, the demands upon us have been different, our experiences have been different, and there is nothing, in my experience, which makes me feel, that I need to distance myself from the movie. Obviously, there is a line, and if I become unhappy about the way I see things going, that might well happen in the future [laughs]. Alan’s aware of my enthusiasm and we both hope that we can maintain our individual positions without coming into conflict with each other. I am sure we can.

There’s one thing that I am sure will happen with any adaptation of Watchmen into a movie: it’s bound to increase the sales of the graphic novel. Certainly, this was the case with V for Vendetta, in a very dramatic way.
Watchmen has always sold very well over the years anyway, and proved popular, so even if you take the absolute worst case scenario, Watchmen is going to find its way into the hands of people who otherwise wouldn’t have seen it and I think one of the reasons Watchmen has been such a good seller over the years for comic shops and for regular book shops is that it’s considered to be an introduction into graphic novel or modern comics, and so I would like to think that the movie would sell more Watchmen and Watchmen would sell more comic books and graphic novels in general. And of course I am also reminded of a quote concerning Raymond Chandler, speaking to someone saying: “You know, the movies ruined my book” and he answered: “Well, there’s a bad movie, but look, your book is still there on the shelf”.
I don’t want it to be a bad movie, and my feeling is it won’t be a bad movie, but even if it is, well, at least it will get the book out to a few people.

16. In USA, as well as here in Italy, there is a big debate about comics slowly evolving into a “graphic novel” format. Incidentally, this is something you explored with The Originals, a work I absolutely love. Is the graphic novel format the natural evolution for a medium finally reaching its maturity?
G.: I think there is some kind of evolution going on, here. Certainly, when I was growing up, there were weekly and monthly comics, which came and went, and never had any longevity at all. Although they were serials, were kind of self-contained, which didn’t rely on you knowing any particular background about the characters (there would always be a recap in the panel as to what had gone on before). Somewhere along the way, comics started to be collected and sold as “graphic novels”. I believe a lot of things that are sold as graphic novels actually aren’t: they are just collections of episodes. I think Watchmen is a genuine graphic novel, because although it appeared in episodes, the story was always conceived as finite, not just a thing that kept the pot boiling, but something that had a beginning, a middle and an end. So I think that Watchmen, and V For Vendetta, and A Contract With God, and The Originals and a lot of other things are genuine graphic novels and I think that even in the monthly publishing there is this almost de rigueur way of telling the continuing stories that you have story arcs of maybe four or six, or eight or twelve issues, which can later be collected together and provide something which certainly is a long way towards being a novel. Although you probably need prior knowledge of the characters, at least what they are involved in does have some sort of dramatic structure. And I think that the fact that most major bookstores you walk into (an a lot of minor book stores) do have areas dedicated to graphic novels, and the fact that even a lot of comic book readers prefer to read their comics in the graphic novel format, because it’s handier, it’s a thing you can keep on the shelf, all those factors are inevitably attracting the medium towards that format. I don’t think it has necessarily got to do with the maturity of the medium, because I like to think that there will always be a place for throwaway episodic comics, just like there is room, in music, for singles that come and go, and albums that you like to keep on a shelf or on your computer hard drive.
I think certainly for the publishers it makes sense, because basically with the monthlies that you put out you cover your production costs, the costs of paying the writers and the artists and the separations (and so on), and really the book collection is all gravy. And also because it means that when there is a movie or some other exploitation of comic book material in another medium, you have got items that are readily available for sale. I think there is an evolution of work, and I think it’s a very good sign, because I think any medium, which stagnates, is on the way out. As the Taoists say: “That which does not change is dead”.

17. Which comic series or artists do you currently follow? Are there people that still inspire you?
G.: One of the other wonderful things about comics, nowadays, is that it’s all there. People talk about the Golden Age of comics: I don’t think there’s ever been a time with so much varied comic material being available, both current stuff and stuff from the past. I am thinking about stuff as diverse as The Complete Mort Cinder by Alberto Breccia, which I picked up when I was in Barcelona the other year (it was a series I’d had in bits for a long, long time, but this is the complete thing in a book, it’s fantastic). I also got the Complete Rip Kirby by Alex Raymond, which is again something that I have been looking for a while. There is Popeye, there is Prince Valiant, it just goes on forever. And of course there’s the Archives stuff that the American companies are doing. I mean, to have all The Spirit issues in a consistent format is wonderful and the runs of things like All-Star Comics, which was something I lusted after as an adolescent. These were the great, distant Grails of superhero comics.
As a digression, I personally like the end of the Golden Age. I kind of like comics from the very late 40’s and the early 50’s, that’s my kind of ground zero, the kind of area that sort of Darwyn Cooke carved in with The New Frontier.
As far as current stuff is concerned, I really tend to follow creators, rather than actual titles. I love everything that Brian Bolland does, Garcia Lopez, Mike Mignola, Frank Miller, Alan Moore… Again, talking about influences, the danger of all this is that there are people you’re going to leave off!
I always find something in the comic shop to inspire me, and if there isn’t anything out this month, as I said, I can always go to my shelf and turn back to some great Golden Age artists, or some book of illustration and get inspiration from there.

18. What about your comic projects in the pipeline? There are rumors that you are going to write and draw a run for one of the Superman series. Is it true?
G.: No. I did do some covers for Action Comics but there are no plans that I am aware of anyway to write and draw a Superman run. As I said before, I love Superman but there is nothing on the table at the moment.

19. Or do we have to expect a new graphic novel in the same vein of The Originals in the next future?
G.: No, The Originals was kind of a heavy duty thing because it took me quite a lot of time just working on my own. And I actually find I like the kind of to and fro of working on a current kind of book, something that has to come out every month or or at least has got a finite time before appears. It was something like more than two years from when I started on The Originals to when I finished it - I did odd bits and pieces in the meantime – that was a really long haul and I had many crises of confidence along the way and many misgivings about whether I was wasting my time or not. As it turned out I don’t think I was, and I am very happy that I was able to express my feelings about the subject matter exactly in the way I did and I wasn’t spooked into doing something that was more flashy or sensational. I have kind of got an idea for… it’s not a sequel, it’s a kind of a companion volume to The Originals. It’s kind of unformed at the moment and I don’t’ think it’s something I will do in the very near future, but hopefully somewhere along the way, before the light fades [laughs], I’ve got an hankering to work on that… so, you know, you will find out when you find out.

20. Also, some years ago, maybe it was Bristol Con 2002, you told me about a huge project you were developing with Alan Moore. Any chances that it could materialize, or would you say it is a lost project?
G.: Alan and I have always enjoyed collaborating and I think we both have done some of our best works when we have collaborated. The thing we did talk about for a little while, and this was a while ago, this was in the late 90’s, was the idea of doing something on a kind of a CD game, a computer game… to use their abilities to weave complex worlds and try new kind of storytelling techniques, where there were alternate storylines. We kicked the idea around for a while and put some thought into it but I think what we eventually realized was that we were getting into something that would probably be as fraught with problems as, say, doing a movie, and also into something that we didn’t completely understand or hadn’t completely grown up with.
Computer games nowadays are as big business as movies and therefore there are huge amounts of money involved, which means that the are huge amounts of people that want protect investments and want to maximise profits, so I think we would actually find ourselves in a situation of really just doing some kind of treatment or outline for a movie and then having it taken completely out of our hands. Also, as I said, there was a certain lack of experience in the medium. I mean, I know people in the game industry, and they have the same kind of passion and encyclopaedic knowledge of computer games that us comics fans have of comics. Certainly, I watched my son play computer games, I have dabbled myself, but I am not an expert: I would not know what a state-of-the-art computer game is.
So that faded away, and obviously Alan has got projects that he is working on and he is very enthusiastic about. As you might know, he is writing a novel called Jerusalem at the moment, which sounds fantastic, and I wouldn’t want to take him away from that, even if he wanted to be taken away from it [laughs].
So, we have no plans to do anything in the future but, who knows, when the stars are in the right position, something could happen.

DAVE GIBBONS interview [1]

2009-10-08T03:38:00.000-07:00

Interview by smoky man and Antonio Solinas. Answers received as mp3 files the 15th and 16th of May 2007.
Transcription by Antonio Solinas in collaboration with smoky man
Originally printed in Italy on Lezioni di Fumetto: Dave Gibbons (October 2008, Coniglio Editore).
An interview excerpt was previously printed in Italy on Scuola di Fumetto magazine (N. 54, September 2007, Coniglio Editore).
Presented here in English for the first time with the permission of the author.

Above: Dave Gibbons. Photo by Gary Spencer Millidge.

1. I am curious to investigate a little the beginning of your career in comics, when you were in your early 20’s. At that time you had a regular day job as a building surveyor, is it right? And then had your start working with Brian Bolland on a book called Powerman, which was a production for the Nigerian marketplace. It was 1975 and shortly after that you began working full-time in the comics business. What can you tell us about that experience - I suppose - in an unusual foreign marketplace? And what was Powerman about?
Gibbons: I started having stuff published in fanzines when I was maybe 20, Fantasy Advertiser in particular, and some other British fanzines.
I was working as a building surveyor in London, that’s correct: and it was quite fortunate because I worked round the corner from IPC Comics (or Fleetway comics, as they had been). They were close enough so that I could go there in my lunch hour, hanging out with the comic guys and making a nuisance of myself. I was looking over people’s shoulders and seeing upcoming work and meeting people who were also fans.
Really, this was the beginning of lunatics taking over the asylum, with people like Steve Moore, Steve Parkhouse, Dez Skinn, Kevin O’Neill and other people like me trying to get into comics, and ending up at IPC comics either as freelancers or on the staff.
There was a really good feeling of being part of a movement, a kind of an “esprit de corps”: we thought that we really understood and loved comics and, if we were lucky enough, one day would be able to produce our own.
I started drawing professionally in 1973, after a kind of a false start, when I did a single digest-sized comic book, which was called The Dead or Awake and Walking and vanished without trace. It didn’t make me enough money to keep me going and I had to go back to being a building surveyor. Then in 1973, an agent found me some work, first of all for DC Thomson in Dundee, who published things like The Wizard and The Victor and then he met up with people who wanted to do a comic for Nigeria, which up until then had imported British comics. And although Nigeria is almost exclusively a black country, the comics they had were typical British comics with blond cricket captains and WW2 flying aces.
These people actually ran an advertising agency and I suspect had an ulterior motive in wanting to use these comics to advertise their goods.
They came over to England and met up with my agent, a guy called Barry Coker, who had a company called Bardon Press Features, and spoke to him about doing what was essentially a superhero comic book for Nigeria. Actually, there were two comic books: one was called Powerman, and the other one I think was called Pop.
I and Brian Bolland alternated with the lead strip in Powerman,.Another strip told the story of an alien invasion, invading Africa, rather than Europe or North America, as usual. Drawn by Carlos Ezquerra and it was really good. A third strip was about a black sheriff.
The comic called Pop had a nurse character in it, and I think at one time it was drawn by Ron Smith, who later on went on to draw Judge Dredd in 2000AD.
As far as Powerman was concerned, I came up with the design of the character. I had met Brian in 1972, at the first British comic convention I attended. We hit it off straight away as friends. I was a little bit ahead of the curve from him: I’d got a start and I had already been working professionally, but obviously he was very talented and ready to get going. So we decided we would alternate Powerman between us. The scripts were written by a guy called Don Avenell and a guy called Norman Worker, long-standing writers of British comics. So every month Brian and I would each do 14 pages, because the book came out twice a month. It was black and white but with a colour overlay of red, which was the predominant colour of Powerman’s costume and also we could use it to brighten up the rest of the drawing. We had to put numbers on the pictures, which we were never very happy about, because the layout was very clear: they were six-panel pages and there was no overlapping or any kind of sophisticated storytelling technique. We thought this really underestimated the intelligence of the people that were reading (the comic), but the advertising agency (the experts!) told us that we had to number the pictures. So, part of the job was going through the story with self-adhesive circles and letter a number onto each panel.
I did a lot of the lettering. I lettered all my stuff and also some of Brian’s as well, and a couple of times we worked together on the artwork. Once, I remember, Brian’s father died and he was very much behind and I remember we did an all-night session, with me inking in backgrounds and stuff like that.
Powerman, as I recall, got his powers from eating a particular kind of food: I can’t remember if it was some kind of food these people were trying to advertise. It was the equivalent of a magic word.
It took me and Brian a little time to get used to how we actually depicted that kind of society. For instance. we were told the way to show that some people were rich and successful was to make them fat, which were the opposite of the skinny women and toned men that you tend to see in our culture. We were given lots of references for the stuff we had to draw.
Later, the thing was reprinted in South Africa, which of course put a rather different twist on it. I do recall that the Comics Journal had a little dig at Brian and I for participating in apartheid, which was ridiculous, because we had no prior knowledge the comic would be presented in South Africa and rather than it being comics for a segregated black community we had done this comic for a black marketplace, with no sense of being any racial divisiveness about it. In fact, the only white person we ever showed in a Powerman comic was some kind of blond, Aryan property developer called Boss Blitzer, who was a really unpleasant character that Powerman brought to justice.
We also felt as well that maybe there were black artists living in Nigeria that would be able to draw this stuff: we were told there weren’t any, but maybe inspired by us they would come forth. Later, I met a guy called Siku, who did some great stuff for 2000AD in England, and he had actually grown up reading these comics and he was inspired by us, so maybe there was some truth in it.

2. Then it was 2000AD time! How you did get involved with the magazine? What was working for 2000AD like, in the early 80’s? [Note: 1st issue was published in 1977]
G.: In my previous answer I mentioned the idea of lunatics taking over the asylum: 2000AD was definitely, absolutely, that. I mean, a lot of us who had recently started in comics, although we hadn’t enough experience, we had enough enthusiasm to really want to do something that was going to make a mark. And because a lot of us had actually grown up reading American comics as much as British comics, science fiction was very much the kind of thing we were interested in. This was just before Star Wars really blew the whole science fiction thing wide open. So, the timing was just amazing. You know, sci-fi has notoriously been a bad seller in British comics: there would probably be one story in one of the weekly anthology comics. One of the series of digest size libraries, called Super Detective Picture Library, had a character called Rick Random, whom I loved, drawn by an artist called Ron Turner, who was a huge influence on me. And of course, Dan Dare being very popular in launching the Eagle, but, with the exception of those, sci-fi was not a big seller. War and football were the big sellers for boys, and of course romance and school stories were the things for girls. Anyway 2000AD was dreamed up by an editor at Fleetway called Kelvin Gossnell. He teamed up with a guy called Pat Mills, who was a writer and also had done some editorial staff for Fleetway at the time. He had actually made his start doing romance comics for DC Thomson, along with his friend John Wagner. I remember being taken over to the Fleetway/IPC building by my agent, being introduced to Pall Mills who was incredibly enthusiastic, a live wire of a guy, with ideas pouring out of him, and a really anarchic revolutionary kind of feel to the things he was interested in doing. He was there with art editor Joan Sheppard and Kevin O’Neill who had worked his way up to be an art assistant with her. They basically showed me the kind of things they had in mind, the things they were trying to emulate. Interestingly one of them was an American comic, Red Sonja, drawn by Frank Thorne. They really liked his kind of layouts and the way he was very much in your face in the way he told stories. The thing they gave me to draw was called Harlem Heroes, which was basically a science fiction version of the Harlem Globetrotters. They had pages of this done by Italian and Spanish artists - who were very much mainstays in British comics at that time - but they couldn’t get the kind of glossy sci-fi feel that they wanted. And I suppose, maybe, the fact that I had just being drawing black people flying in Powerman… somehow they though I might be able to do something with this, and I think Kevin had been showing a lot of stuff that I had done for fanzines, shown that I could draw spacemen and things like that.
Anyway, I basically drew this Harlem Heroes story and they liked it and said they would get me to do the rest of them. The first story was actually printed, I think, in about the 12th-14th issue of 2000AD, when I was having a holiday.
Working for 2000AD in the early 80’s was great because it was all us guys who kind of knew each other through fandom, we were all of a similar kind of age. It was also 1977 and there was a feeling of “punk” in the air, although, frankly I was were already a bit too old for that. And then as I said Star Wars came along and gave the whole science fiction field a tremendous boost. So, we felt we were in the place to be. There was a tremendous sense of esprit de corps, a friendly rivalry between us… as I said, we were friends and we just wanted to match what the other guys were doing and didn’t want to let the team down. It was a really, really exciting time and it persisted like that– for me anyway – for the first three or four years, or something.

3. During your stint at 2000AD you drew popular characters such as Judge Dredd and you started collaborating with someone called Alan Moore on some short stories. I think it was an exciting time for British comics. What are your memories about that time?
G.: Actually I never did draw Judge Dredd. I drew one episode, which frankly I did not really like. The problem with Judge Dredd is… the way I naturally draw is sort of “like Brian Bolland”, or at least I can understand the way Brian draws.
We have grown up on very much the same influences, American comic books, mainly those edited by Julie Schwartz, so our work has a sense of similarity.
But the look I really love on Dredd is actually what Mick McMahon did. Later on, I shared a studio with Mick, and I could never understand how he drew, never in a million years could I draw in the way he does.
So it was a slightly unsatisfactory experience for me: I wanted to draw like Mick, but I ended up drawing like Brian, I couldn’t help it [laughs].
I did ink some of Brian’s stuff, on the Cursed Earth, and that was kind of interesting. I had done that before, and he inked a couple of spreads that I did when I was drawing Dan Dare, so we had experience in collaborating with each other, we knew each other very well by that time. So that was my Judge Dredd experience. I also inked a single picture that Mick drew: it was a pin-up with the Angel gang, and that was a really strange experience to put my inks over Mick’s very crisp and idiosyncratic pencils.
My only other claim to having anything to do with Judge Dredd was when Mick and I shared a studio. He was really tight on a deadline during some colour stuff for a British annual, so I helped him by laying a few skies and blacking in a few areas and stuff like that.
The collaboration with Alan Moore actually came after my main involvement with 2000AD. I believe by that time I had moved on to drawing Doctor Who for Marvel UK.
I only had time to do a few odd things here and there for 2000AD. I met Alan in about 1980 at a convention in London and registered that he was this tall guy with long hair, and he was introduced to me by a guy called Steve Moore. There is a tale about this on Alan Moore: Portrait of an Extraordinary Gentleman, it tells the tale… From the beginning I loved what Alan did: again, we had the same kind of references, we read the same comics (we loved Mad Magazine and stuff like that).
I think that probably the best thing that we did for 2000AD was called Chrono-Cops, which again was a really interesting experiment in storytelling, as we went backward and forward in time, used Xerox panels and stuff, and I suppose it was then that we realised that we could handle the kind of complexity that we both found entertaining.
I did another story with Alan called Billy the Squid or something like that [Note: it was titled, “The Wild Frontier”, 2000AD #269] and I remember when the editorial people from DC came over here to recruit artists and writers from British comics they wanted to see what we were working on at the time of this interview. I recall showing to Dick Giordano this thing with squids riding horses in a weird science fiction-Wild West sort of setting, and I really don’t think he had an idea of what was really going on, although he was interested enough. A couple of years after that, Dick was happy enough to give Alan and I the go-ahead to do Watchmen…
You ask me about my memories about that time: it was a really exciting time, because new stuff was happening, and that led into British artists and writers being very much flavour of the month in American comics. And many of us had the ultimate ambition to work in American comics: indeed I had gone over there in the early 70’s, unsuccessfully trying to get work…
We felt really happy: right place, right time, British Invasion. We are the Young Turks, I guess you could say.

4. Taking a step back, what were your influences in terms of comic artists and comics reading? I know you have some Italian creators in your list of favorites, too... What was the reason that inspired you to try and get a career in comics?
G.: One of the problems of listing influences is that you leave out somebody you really wish you put in there. Anyway, among my influences were some of the very best British artists… Ron Turner, who I mentioned earlier, author of sci-fi stuff in the ‘50s and later to draw some Judge Dredd for 2000AD, but it was kind of… I don’t think it was his best work, I don’t think even he would think that. He has a wonderful design sense, in fact there is an incredible gallery upon - I think - Flickr - I am not sure - which has some amazing vintage sci-fi covers of his.
Probably if you google “Ron Turner” you might be able to find that.
Frank Hampson, the creator of Dan Dare, just an incredible artist, somebody who was absolutely dedicated to his art and fortunately had the budget and the assistance to do some - I think - absolutely timeless comics art stuff I would think would be hard to ever better.
Frank Bellamy, who also drew in Eagle, whose works, to me, had a kind of Transatlantic feeling. Wonderful researched, excitingly drawn, incredible use of black. Both him and Frank Hampson, I was lucky enough to meet, later on. Actually I, along with Dez Skinn, did the only published interview with Frank Bellamy, I believe. He was like a lot of these top creators I have been lucky enough to meet: his work and his character were just of the very best.
Let me think about any other appreciated artists… Brian Lewis, a great illustrator. A guy called Ian Kennedy, who drew wonderful Air Ace comics - War World II in the air - just an incredible artist when it came to draw any kind of warplanes. And a lot of artists who actually worked for the British comics world, Italian and Spanish artists like Gino D’Antonio - as I later found his name to be – he drew some fantastic war comics. He was one of those artists who made it all look so simple, he was a great influence on Mick McMahon as well… Tacconi who again drew a lot of Air Ace comics, wonderful air war artist… Spanish artists like Victor De La Fuente, and Jesus Blasco who drew things like Steel Claw in British comics. At the same time I was really enjoying a lot of American artists. The first artist I really noticed was “the good” Batman artist who was Dick Sprang… and Jack Kirby whose work was printed all over the place when I was a kid… Steve Ditko, I really loved his story-telling and the strangeness of his art… I can really go on and on… I loved the Mad artists, particularly the ones who drew Mad Comics like Will Elder, Wally Wood, John Severin, Jack Davis… and I loved Will Eisner’s work from the first time I saw it as well… so really I have a kind of transatlantic taste… Joe Kubert, I have to mention his work. Again, a kind of transatlantic artist, an artist whose work fitted in American comics but fitted equally well in British or European comics. So these are some of my influences.
What inspired me to try and get a career in comics? One thing was that you didn’t need much to be able to do what all these guys did. You basically need a piece of white paper and a pen… and that was it: the rest was up to you and your talent. It was not like trying to get into movies where you have to have an infra-structure of cameras, screens and staff and film… or like music where you need to actually get an inexpensive instrument and learn how to play… there was something really immediate about comics … and the fact that you can go more or less straight from the writer’s or the artist’s mind to the reader’s mind through a very informal and easy medium. I think that maybe that was something that inspired me.

5. In the 80’s you moved on to US market. If I remember correctly, you were probably the very first British artist - in what was later called “the British invasion” - to work for a major American publisher. How did you get in touch with the US publishers? You drew a run of Green Lantern, a character who has a special appealing for you, doesn’t he? In fact, currently you are the writer of the Green Lantern Corps series...
G.: Actually, I wasn’t the first one to break into American comics. The one that inspired me was Barry (Windsor) Smith, because I saw something he drew for Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., where it was mentioned that he was a British artist and that he was about the same age as me. Up until then, I believed you had to be a member of some Mafia, or brotherhood if you will, to get into American comics. I had this idea they had these hard bitten guys in New York City, with eyeshades, chomping cigars and unless you were in that situation you probably wouldn’t be able to have anything to do with American comics.
But obviously Barry Smith broke in, so I thought: “If he can do it, I can do it, and, you know, he’s not even as good as I am”. That was an opinion that I later revised…
There are two other points of interest there: he was actually probably born in the same hospital as me, certainly the same part of London as me, within about a month of me.
The other thing was that I then redrew this S.H.I.E.L.D. story that he had done, and that was one of the pieces I took along and gave to Dez Skinn, when I was trying to get work in his fanzine or, hopefully, in the professional comic he worked for. Sitting in the next desk to Dez was a guy called Steve Parkhouse, who had actually written this story, and was Barry Smith’s best friend.
I discovered, even back then, that comics are a very small world.
Apart from Barry, who was certainly working for the US market before me, there was an artist called Ken Barr, who had drawn some war comics in America, like Our Army at War and stuff like that.I think he was Scottish.
Lee Elias was actually born in England: he drew a lot of Golden Age comics. He used to draw Green Arrow. And actually Brian Bolland had his stuff published in the States before me: he did some Green Lantern covers.
The first thing that I ever drew for the US was for Marvel’s Black and White magazine and it wasn’t published until later; it was published in colour at the wrong size. The kind of grey wash halftone drawing that I had done was converted to a line drawing, so that ended up really murky and horrible.
Actually, I got the original artwork back for that: I think it was earlier this year or last year, which is probably 30 years after I drew it, like a lost puppy that finally came home [laughs].
As for how I got in touch with the US publishers, I went there in 1973, left my stuff with DC and Marvel. Although Roy Thomas at Marvel said nice things about it, they never got back in touch (I realise now I should have pushed them a bit more). At DC, I was just handed my stuff back by a guy called Michael Uslan, who later went on to produce the Batman movies: he was just one of their interns, at the time, but I didn’t get any work from them.
I did get some British work with the samples that I did, that probably led to me beginning to work through an agent.
In 1980 or 1981 Dick Giordano and Joe Orlando came over to England and got in touch with several people like myself, Mick McMahon, Garry Leach, maybe Kevin O’Neill, people like that, and basically offered us jobs. They offered more money, they offered the return of artwork, they even offered the pre-ruled board to draw on, and all that was hard to resist.
I am still not quite sure why they did it: I like to think it was because they realised there was a bunch of people here who had enough professional experience and enough knowledge of American comics to do something that looked acceptable to their market, but maybe could give it a bit of a twist, some British “flavour” that might make a change.
Some cynical American artist later said to me that it was because they were fearing a strike or a revolt by American artists and they wanted to have a whole load of offshore people that could do the work, to step in and take up the slack. As it turned out, the British people that worked for American comics (I’ll name no names!) were among the most militant people that they had working for them, although, by and large, I like to think that we are also very good and professional comic artists.
As far as Green Lantern is concerned, I always liked Green Lantern when I was a kid. I didn’t like him quite as much as the Flash: that was because of the artwork. Certainly in the early days Gil Kane drew him, and he was not as dynamic as Carmine Infantino’s version of the Flash.
I always like the idea of the set-up of the series, with some kind of intergalactic police force. It was based on good science fiction premises, all of which I liked. It was a Gil Kane Green Lantern cover that pulled me back into comics when I’d drifted away in my teens.
I enjoyed drawing Green Lantern for about a year, back in the early 1980’s. It was written and edited by Len Wein and I got to do a few of the classic Green Lantern characters.
The other thing about that was it was my fan-boy chance to be a DC Comics artist for a year, to see what it felt like to work on a monthly ongoing book. I must say, part of the reason I wanted to do some more writing recently was to see what it felt like to be a DC writer doing a monthly book.
A lot of the things I tried to do in comics are based around things that as a kid I always wanted to do, like being a DC Comics artist, or being a DC Comics writer, drawing Green Lantern, drawing Superman, drawing Batman, drawing even The Spirit, for instance, which would have been a seeming almost impossible thing to do.
Green Lantern does mean a lot to me, and although Superman is possibly my favourite comics character of all-time, I have been really happy to contribute to the Green Lantern mythos.

6. Afterwards, you and Mr. Moore made comics history with Watchmen, without mentioning one of the best Superman stories ever, “For the man who has everything”…
G.: Well, if you don’t want to mention it… I have to say that it was one of my favourite things I ever did. It was Superman – as I said in my previous answer he’s just about my favourite character – written by Alan - who has to be one of my favourite writers and would be even if I hadn’t worked on stories by him – and it was done for Julie Schwartz, who edited some of my all time favourite comics, The Flash, Green Lantern, Atom, Justice League… just my favourite editor, I guess. So the chance to work on that character with those people was just amazing. And it was a great story… the fact it was an annual meant it was a stand-alone thing and it became memorable because of that. So that was a great thing to get the chance to do and of course it gave Alan and I the chance to get used to working with each other on the American stage as a precursor to doing Watchmen…

7. I am pretty sure you have already been asked all kind of questions about the subject, but there is a thing I am curious to know - in retrospective - from the voice of the co-creator of Watchmen. What do you think is the “key” element of the graphic novel? I mean the “key” factor, maybe under both a narrative and visual point of view - which marks W as a masterpiece, a milestone in comics history?
G.: It was maybe a question of timing. We came out with it at just the time when comics were maybe ready for a bit of deconstruction. You might say that the lunatics were ready to find out how the asylum they’d taken over was actually BUILT. And the other thing was structure: the writing was very structured, the drawing was very structured, very focused, very concentrated… there is a lot of a precision work in there. Imposing the grid on it meant that things couldn’t just spill out or take up whatever space Alan or I just happened to feel they might do based on the spur of the moment decision. From the very beginning we had a kind of a bigger plan, we had the grid that we had to fit everything into. I think that possibly was something that made it notable apart from any artistic or literary content. I mean, that was really the thing that contained the art and the story. I don’t know if I can answer any better than that. I don’t know if I quite understand your question, to be honest, but, anyway, that’s is my stab at an answer!

8. Also, a provocative question ;) I know that often you are identified as Dave “Watchmen” Gibbons. How do you feel about this? Is it a “blessing”, or a kind of “curse”, a limitation for an author who did many important other things?
G.: Watchmen has always been good to me. I have been offered things that I wouldn’t be offered if I hadn’t been a part of Watchmen. And I’ve earned some money from it [laughs]. I don’t know if I would have been accorded this status I have if it wasn’t for Watchmen… probably not. I suppose it can be a bit of a curse because it is kind of: “OK, Orson “Citizen Kane” Wells, follow that!”. I think if you think about it like that, it is a curse.
And certainly, immediately afterwards, when Frank Miller and I did Martha Washington we both had a lot of expectation upon us, so what we kind of did was to go in a completely different direction, we didn’t do another deconstruction of superheroes, we did a kind of “Perils Of Pauline” kind of thing. We took a completely different kind of character, an extrapolated her into the future rather than just within a superhero kind of setting. So I have to say, on balance, it’s been much more a blessing than a curse. And I suppose as a life long comics fan, I am just really proud to be associated with something that undoubtedly will always have a place in the history of comics (I say it in all modesty: it is just clear it WILL have) and that has brought a lot of pleasure to a lot of people. And I suppose the only thing I would regret is that because Alan and I set out to do exactly the kind of comic that we would want to read, I must be the only person on the planet, apart from Alan, that hasn’t been able to read it as something fresh and new put in front of me!

9. You worked with Moore, but also with Frank Miller on the dystopian political sci-fi saga of Martha Washington.
G.: Moore and Miller, definitely two of the best writers working in the field today and probably two of the best of all times. From your point of view, what are the differences and the similarities in the approach to comics writing between the two? From my point of view, I see more energy, more “guts” in Miller and, on the contrary, more brain, more attention to structure in Moore…
G.: I have got a really quick answer to this. As I have done some long answers, this might be the best answer to give! I think Alan is like a great classical composer (a Mozart, a Beethoven), who has in his head the whole symphony worked out, who knows where every note will be, who, yes, will change it as it goes along, to a degree, but creates something which has a wonderful, complex structure which will absolutely fit and, when you have heard it, seems predictable, inevitable: great classical music, which you have to love.
Frank, on the other hand, is like a great jazz virtuoso, he’s like a Dizzy Gillespie or a Miles Davis, where he has great skills, great focus, but rolls with the moment. If he hits an unusual note, he will immediately incorporate it into what he is doing, and it’s much more on the hoof, much more instinctive.
You mention in your question more “guts” to what Frank does. Alan’s stuff is visceral, is felt, but, yes, Frank comes more from the guts possibly than Alan. You could say Alan is the head, Frank is the guts. It’s an over-generalisation, because both have qualities that the other one has: within what Alan does, there is a lot of improvisation, within what Frank does, there is a lot of structure, but in broad terms, I think that’s how I see it (much the way you do it, in fact).

10. You also collaborated as writer with several top artists: for example, I am thinking to Steve Rude and Mike Mignola. Recently you wrote the Thunderbolt Jaxon miniseries, resurrecting a lost British hero with art by John Higgins, and you are the regular writer of Green Lantern Corps series…
What is your approach to comic scripts, now that you are on the other side of the barricade? Do you write full scripts? Do you also include thumbnails or preliminary page art or what else?
G.: I have been very lucky. I think initially I was offered writing gigs because of the “marquee” attraction of my name. In other words, as I had worked on Watchmen (despite the fact that I drew it, rather than wrote it), my name was associated with something that was very successful and very critically revered.
So the hope was that my name on another book would drag a few of those people over. Anyway for whatever reason it was, the first thing I was offered to write for DC was a Superman and Batman story: something that I just could not say no to. That was drawn by Steve Rude, whom I have immense admiration for, very dedicated, very focused, an incredible draughtsman. He added things to my scripts that I just was just amazed at. Mike Mignola was the same: because they have got such a distinctive style, I was able to visualise the kind of thing that they would like to draw (I think). Nevertheless, he brought such a vision to it, and gave it such authority that I couldn’t have been more thrilled. Steve really made me look good. One of my favourite things that I have written was Superman: Kal, which was an “Elseworlds” story where Superman comes to Earth in Britain in the Middle Ages. That was drawn by Josè Luis Garcia Lopez, who has always been one of my favourite artists, whose work I actively seek out (I think I must have everything he has drawn for American comics). What I said to somebody about what he had done on Kal was: “He drew that story just as I would have drawn it, if I could draw as well as him”. He just did an amazing job on it. One of the bonuses was I got to look at a lot of full size Xeroxes of his original art, pencils and inks: it was almost like a masterclass on how to draw comics: his technique, his ability, his anatomy and his staging are just amazing. He really is one of those unsung artists: he should be a lot more popular than he is.
Thunderbolt Jaxon was great because it was a fairly low-key kind of thing that wasn’t particularly intimidating because nobody had a clue about who Thunderbolt Jaxon was and I could really only take it upwards.
It was a great chance to collaborate again with John Higgins, who is a good friend of mine, and has been for many years (and we worked successfully together on Watchmen).
On Green Lantern Corps, again, I have been very, very lucky. In fact, the original idea for Green Lantern Corps was that I was going to draw and write it. By the time I got to draw something, Patrick Gleason, the artist, had so much made it his own that I personally felt that I didn’t really match what he was able to do.
He had given it the authority, so I was quite happy to let him be the lead artist on it.
As far as my approach is concerned, I always write a full script. As an artist, I have always wanted to have a full script: I’ve worked “Marvel-style” (plot-art-script), a few times, and I really don’t like it. Nobody quite knows which way the boat’s headed… I like to consult with the artist, I like the artist to have a hand in what he is going to be drawing and certainly I try and see things (as much as I can) in the way I think the artist sees it, to give them stuff that they want to draw and that they are good at drawing.
I do write pretty full descriptions, not as full as Alan (but then very few people do), but I like to make it clear. I think what I find is what Alan finds (and I think it is one of the reasons he writes such full descriptions): I don’t want to miss anything that occurs to me that might just be the key for the artist to draw the thing. I mean, sometimes, the things that really gave me the key to pictures that Alan was describing were almost quite incidental things, so I always try and put down my full thoughts, and if it runs on a bit, it runs on, and if it doesn’t then that’s fine. But I would never include thumbnails or layouts or sketches, because I have had that done to me as an artist and it completely clouds your thinking. The minute you have seen a version of it drawn, it kind of imprints itself into your brain, and it’s very hard to get away from that.

DAVE GIBBONS interview [2]

CHRIS SPROUSE interview

2009-05-20T10:51:00.000-07:00

Interview by smoky man. Conducted in November 2008.
Originally printed in Italy on Scuola di Fumetto magazine (N. 65, February/March 2009, Coniglio Editore).
Presented here in English for the first time.
Above: Cover for Tom Strong Vol. Two.
Tom Strong published by DC Comics.
Chris Sprouse blog: sprousenet.blogspot.com

Right now you are in the comics biz from more than 20 years. How did it all started? Did you attend any artistic school or are you an autodidact?
Actually, this year is my 19th year in comics. I drew comics for myself all through childhood. I studied fine art and graphic design in a standard university, not art school, but all of my comic book abilities are self-taught.

Most of all, why making a living by drawing comics? Was it your dream as a child?
It was my dream as far back as I can remember. I wanted to do something creative for a living and I was able to draw and liked comic books, so it seemed like an obvious choice to me.

Which artists did influence you the most? Not only from comics but in Art in general… And why?
Herge was my first influence. We lived in India when I was a child and my parents bought us European albums to entertain us. Tintin was my favorite and is still my favorite comic today. I think I developed a "clean" style because I've read and re-read the Tintin albums my entire life. Later, my big American comic influences were Michael Golden, Frank Miller and Walt Simonson. Golden is a master of design and knows how to pick the perfect image or pose for every panel or cover he draws. Miller is the best visual storyteller in comics, and Simonson brings a sense of excitement and fun to his drawing that I can only marvel at and hope to understand one day.

Was it difficult for you to break in the biz? I think it could be said that your professional career in comics started at DC with Legionnaires in the ’80. What can you recall of that experience?
It was very easy to break in: I simply mailed sample pages to DC Comics and they called me two weeks later! I was very lucky! Legionnaires was my first big series and I loved drawing the book. It was also very exciting to be a part of that group of creators--Jason Pearson, Keith Giffen, Tom & Mary Bierbaum, Stuart Immonen--we all tried to do our best because we didn't want to disappoint anyone else. I would draw a Legion comic again in a second if they asked me!

Then you moved to the various Rob Liefeld’s Image studio incarnations in the 90ies. I remember you doing a couple of issues of New Men for him, a nice book. Then you were attached as the new regular artist of his flag-ship title, the Supreme’s run by Alan Moore. How did you get this assignment?
I drew three issues of New Men, then the series was cancelled. Coincidentally, the editor of Supreme was the writer of New Men, and he asked me to draw Supreme for one issue as a fill-in artist. That was issue #50, and they liked it enough that they hired me to be the regular artist.

Were you more excited or a bit “frightened” to work with Moore considering his writing status?
Both excited to be working with someone as good as Alan and frightened because I wanted my art to be as good as his stories and I didn't know if I was up to the task.

Drawing Supreme, had you any direct contact with him or did you work only on his scripts? I think at that time he had already finished his scripts for Awesome and had no contact with the company... What’s about the “quality” of his scripts? Were they as detailed as the legend says?
No, I had no contact with Alan while working on Supreme. The scripts were indeed detailed and very long, but they were so much fun to read! I've kept them all!

After Supreme you followed Moore on his ABC line co-creating Tom Strong. What’s about your contribution to this modern classic hero? Was is only limited to the visual aspect of the characters, the city (even if Millennium City IS a character in itself), mecha design and so on.. or did you also contributed to the story in any way?
At first, I supplied purely visual input, but supposedly Alan created all the ABC books with the specific creators in mind, or at least tailored the stories to fit each of our strengths and interests. Later, around issue #10, Alan and I did discuss stories very briefly and decided together to focus on the Strong family as a sort of homage to the family feel of the old Lee/Kirby Fantastic Four, which we both loved. Otherwise, I was very content to let Alan write whatever he wanted to because it would always be interesting and fun to draw.

After Supreme and Tom Strong, how do you weight your collaboration with Moore? Do you consider it as the highest point of your career till now? Any "strange magical" anecdotes to share with us related to yr long professional relationship with him?
It was definitely my favorite time in comics. I don't know if I was always able to do the best I could have every single issue, but I'm very proud of the work I did on Tom Strong. No real magical anecdotes in the literal sense, but it was very magical to work with Alan. I'm honored to have had the chance.

There are rumors that a new Tom Strong series (without Moore on the writing) is upcoming. With you as penciler. Can you reveal us anything?
Peter Hogan and I are doing a new mini-series called Tom Strong and the Robots of Doom which should be published next year. It begins with Tesla and Val planning their wedding, but events soon go horribly wrong when Tom's illegitimate son Albrecht alters the time stream. That's all I'll say for now!

Let’s talk about your style and drawing approach. You use a really clean line, more light than shadow, I like to define it as “realistic cartoony”. What can you say about it? How did you develop it? It seems an easy style, at first look, but I know it takes tons of thoughts and time to draw a page. Like for Mignola’s style, which is at the opposite style of your spectrum considering all the blacks he puts on.
As I said earlier, I think my "clean line" style started because of my interest in Herge's work. Since reading Tintin as a child, I've always liked clean linework, and when I began to draw, what I had learned from reading Tintin and other similar comics came out in my drawing style. It's all intuitive though--I just know when a page or drawing feels "right" or "finished" to me and when to stop rendering so that I like the finished result. Too many lines looks too busy and too fussy to me.

What’s the process behind your page? What kind of tools do you use? Any digital support?
I start by drawing quick thumbnails with a soft blue or black pencil on standard copy paper while reading the script. Then I either draw large full-size layouts on 11"X17" cheap paper or I draw the layouts directly on the final Bristol Board paper. The finished product from this step is all the "under-drawing" and construction work--I've worked out all the poses and anatomy and perspective. Next I put the layout on my lightbox on my drawing table and make a very clean-line tracing (with black H or HB lead) of just the necessary elements. Finally I do any shading and fill in black areas before giving the pages over to Karl story for inking.

What’s about your studio? Do you work at home? Any digital support?
I do work at home, in a studio full of reference books and models and props that I use for maintaining accuracy when drawing. I use a computer to shrink or enlarge sketches when needed, and for altering artwork for specific effects.

I think it’s correct to say you are basically a penciler and your clean pages are created (I suppose) keeping in mind that they have to be inked. You worked with inkers like Al Gordon and Karl Story, who are regular collaborators. What’s about your teamwork with the inker? I mean it is a kind of a matter of trust… Do you prefer they stay faithful to your lines or… for example I remember a great team-up with “embellisher” Kevin Nowlan (who’s also a penciler on his own)…
I really do prefer that the inker is faithful to the pencil artwork. It's heartbreaking to create a page you love only to see it changed by someone else. I work very hard on getting just the right expressions on faces or making sure technical details are correct, and these two things can be destroyed very carelessly by bad inkers. Luckily, for many years I've been able to work with good inkers I do trust. I prefer Karl Story over anyone else and we've worked together so long that I think we both know what the other expects or what the other will do. Being inked by Kevin Nowlan was amazing! He was very faithful, yet occasionally his own spirit would show through on certain details.

Why don’t you ink yourself? Is it just a matter of deadline? In Europe, comics artists draw and ink their own stuff which is quite unusual in the USA market, especially in the “superhero” field…
It's very much a matter of deadline. And since I haven't inked very much of my own work, I haven't been able to practice my inking skills and am not very good at it! The US publishers just don't seem to want to give creators the time to create longer stories in an album format--it's all about the monthly treadmill over here!

Do you prefer a fully detailed script or something more like Marvel-style script?
I think I prefer a detailed script. At the very least I prefer to know the dialogue when drawing expressions and poses. I recently had the chance to work "Marvel-style" with Walt Simonson on a Spirit story and it was a challenge!

Any desire to write your own comics?
Not at all! I love to draw and am happy doing just that.

Your sci-fi Ocean miniseries written by Warren Ellis has been optioned for a movie adaptation. Any news about it? Are you involved in it in any way?
I'm not involved in any way. I'm very excited about it--I love science fiction movies and to have created something which will one day be a science fiction movie is amazing to me. I just learned that the script is finished and it should go to the studio for casting and budgeting soon.

What’s your opinion about the strong relationship between the comics industry and Hollywood? There is for example a big hype around a couple of comics movies such as Spirit, Sin City 2 and of course Watchmen… Is it good for comics in itself or not?
I'm not sure if it is good. I suppose that good Hollywood movies based on comics has helped to make comics more legitimate in the eyes of the general American public. When I was in school, you could be ridiculed and even beaten up for liking comics, but now it's very accepted among all age groups and I think it may be partially because of the movies. No one has been able to say conclusively if the movies have helped generate more comic sales, but I don't think they have. I don't know. I can only speak for myself: I didn't get into the comics business to make movies--I just want to draw good comics and if someone wants to make a movie out of one of my comics, that's great, but it's not my ultimate goal.

What do you think about the graphic novel phenomenon?
I'm happy that there are more US graphic novels now! I would love to see even more.

Your last work is the Number of the Beast miniseries set in the Wildstorm Universe. What can reveal about this story?
Number of the Beast is about a group of superheroes form the 1940's and 1950's who have been kept in suspended animation. Now they are waking up and will quite possibly cause the end of civilization! That's the basic premise. I was attracted to the series because of the 1940's-50's characters. I designed nearly 30 characters for the series and I loved every minute of it. It was very hard work ultimately, but I enjoyed the series.

You are also working on some Superman covers even if you said in the past “I don’t think I can’t draw him well”…
I just finished my second cover an hour ago! Originally, I was supposed to draw a two-part Superman story, but plans fell through and DC decided to abandon it. I don't know what happened, but I was ready and willing. I'd resisted doing Superman for years because I never liked how I drew him at conventions, but I did a cover for one of Brad Meltzer's JLA comics featuring Superman and it looked okay, so I thought I could do it. I drew another cover this year in preparation for my two issues and I loved it, so I thought it would all go perfectly. Oh, well...maybe someday. For now, I'll be drawing a total of four Superman-related covers: two for Superman, one for Supergirl, and one for Action Comics.

Which comics do you currently read? Because you READ comics, don’t you? (It seems that many comics artists don’t do that…)
I regularly read Ex Machina, Hellboy, anything by Warren Ellis, Stuart Immonen's Ultimate Spider-Man, and Mark Millar & Bryan Hitch's Fantastic Four.

Article: DeZ Vylenz on Watchmen

2009-03-05T23:52:00.000-08:00

At the end of 2006 - in the occasion of its 20th anniversary - I edited an Italian Watchmen tribute book which was basically a collection of 12 brand new essays by well known comics experts analyzing Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons masterpiece. The volume was published by Lavieri, a small Italian publisher, with all net profits donated to AIMA, the Italian Alzheimer organization.
Writer and director DeZ Vylenz, the creative force behind the must-see documentary "The Mindscape of Alan Moore" (Shadowsnake Films), contributed to the book with an interesting essay titled "Infinity in a grain of sand - Alternative worlds, ucrony, dystopia and utopia in Watchmen".
In the following you can read, for the first time, the original English version. Thanks to DeZ Vylenz for the permission. Enjoy!
Pictures included in this article are from "The Mindscape of Alan Moore" .

Infinity in a grain of sand
Alternative worlds, ucrony, dystopia and utopia in Watchmen
by DeZ Vylenz

Rorschach Journal, October 12, 1985. This city is afraid of me, I have seen its true face…

And so begins the literary tour de force called Watchmen, a profound study of the various notions of power which permeate our world’s political and social structures and in fact our entire history. With a sense of grand design and depth of characterization to emulate War and Peace or any literary classic for that matter, there was another major Moore punch to the stomach of critics and readers, friends and enemies: Watchmen is a comic and perhaps because of its magnum opus size and depth one of the first works where the new coining “graphic novel” was applied to; a term regarded by some as slightly pretentious but on the other hand often useful to separate self-contained works with a definite beginning and end which sets them apart from the ongoing serialized comics.
The title Watchmen in itself is ambiguous, as it could refer to the group of superheroes watching over the safety of society, but considering the leitmotifs of clocks, watches, time and human perception there is also a hint to the intricate watchmaker behind it all. Whether that be the creative forces of the universe, God, the nuclear scientist Osterman (who had ambitions to become a watchmaker, a reference to an Albert Einstein quote) before his disintegration or Adrian Veidt’s grand scheme of creating Utopia, it is clear that Alan Moore’s own approach to the comic has been that of an architect, mapping out not only the physical aspects of the world but also the spiritual and emotional dimensions of what it means to be a human being in the contemporary dark age of technology and struggle for economic supremacy.
Although the notions of power, fear and individual lives within a larger framework are the main themes within Watchmen, the whole book itself is a muscular exercise in embedded narrative; a profound meditation on time, memory and experience. This is most prominent in Chapter IV where the narrative is centred around Dr. Manhattan’s conscious structuring of time and events through flashbacks and flashforwards, as he roams the surface of Mars.
Depending on which ‘ism’ one might take as starting point to study this book, some might try to stick a genre label on Watchmen. In some respects the book can be viewed as alternative history or ucrony: “a story set in a time which never really existed but which might have if historical circumstances had been different.” Watchmen is after all a hypothetical world, an alternative parallel universe, diverged from the one we know because of the freak accident that created Dr. Manhattan. A thermodynamic miracle as it were.
Literary critics or narratologists could perhaps draw comparisons with Bram Stoker’s use of different journals, letters and a variety of media and descriptions all woven into the embedded narrative of Dracula or Orson’s Welles’ Citizen Kane. But Watchmen is not only modernist because it is presented in the relatively new and unexplored ‘Comic’ medium, but also because its world view is holistic in nature with every single event seen in relation to every conceivable facet of our contemporary world and the knowledge we have of the universe. This is not surprising; given the surge of media and information which has become available over the last hundred years. Readers and writers of our time experience the world in a different manner than those of a century ago.
But the book can also be viewed from a more spiritual side, the effect it has upon our consciousness as human readers living in a complex web of worlds within worlds, with layers of politics, economics, and the numerous facets of our society and personal and global events around us. Most of this reality is distorted by an overload of information through the modern mass media and intellectual analysis is simply not comprehensive enough to put it all into a clear perspective.
Watchmen is a massive piece of work that plunges the reader straight into an incredibly deep and complete experience on intellectual, emotional and spiritual levels.
Without getting too much on a personal side track, I can honestly say that from the first few panels I encountered in Watchmen as a teenager with then seemingly far-fetched ambitions to become a writer or filmmaker, something was triggered in some dormant brain cells which to this day has a tremendous effect upon my world view and personal artistic approach. From the enormous close up of a smiley (already introduced on the cover) the panels slowly “zoom out” to a breathtaking bird’s eye view from the window of a high flat building in the middle of an urban landscape with the “voice-over” captions reminiscent of Taxi Driver. This introduction signals a certain warning to the reader.
There is a holistic vision at work here and the reader is expected to bring on board of this journey, as much knowledge as possible on every level conceivable.
Though Film and Comic are both two-track media (employing language –or sound-- and images to convey the information), the way that the concept of time and perception is studied in Watchmen has an effect, which would be very hard to replicate in a film adaptation or a novel. There are numerous layers of information conveyed by the omniscient narration: essays, pirate comics read by characters within the book, articles, diaries, all of which compose the text world of Watchmen into a very complex cognitive process while the central part of the story still remains very accessible to the average reader.
In Chapter IX, page 6, Dr. Manhattan expresses the core idea of the book’s structure:
Time is simultaneous, an intricately structured jewel that humans insist on viewing one edge at a time, when the whole design is visible in every facet.

According to shamanic principles, time does not exist. There is no past or future. Only the Now. Everything exists at the same time. Moore has always had a fascination with time paradoxes and our perception of time, as is evident in his early short stories for 2000 AD Monthly.
Before Alan Moore transcended to another level of writing where the emphasis was more on magical and universal themes (a phase which started around his work on From Hell), Moore’s work was significantly influenced by pop-culture, contemporary politics and developments around him. Similarly to his character Ozymandias, he is very much tapped into the mosaic of information that the world media present. This mindset is one of the cornerstones of modernism, where writers and readers bring everything they know, the complete frame of reference that comprises our general sense of ‘history,’ to the experience we call story. Stories and events are no longer only viewed in a vacuum, or in the light of classical mythology, philosophy and so on. We now view everything in relation to recent and past events, make associations on various levels, whether that be biological, sociological or mystical levels. The prose of William Burroughs is a prime example of this phenomenon and enough to give linguists and students of epistemology a couple of field days. As our intellectual horizons expand, we read or experience things more and more within a larger context.
Quantum physics and Chaos theory gradually presented new alternatives to a scientific and strictly materialistic world view, governed by Newtonian physics and Keynesian economics. In Indian philosophy the human constructs (amongst which our concept of Time) and our perception of the world are considered as Maya: Illusion. Something constructed by human beings in order to understand the slice of that complex event which can be seen as the universe or life itself. In the shamanic world view, life is not seen as a linear event moving from left to right like a bead on a wire. The world is not seen as a place of strict hierarchy and stratification. On a larger scale things cannot be quantified or rationalised for simplicity’s sake. From a mystical viewpoint, the world is seen as a far more complex web of energy, which at some point emanated from the same source and manifested itself in the myriads of life forms in the universe. With our limited senses and human mind we experience the three dimensional plane of a more elusive four dimensional event.

Invisible before birth are all beings and after death invisible again. They are seen between two unseens.
(Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 2, verse 28)

At the end of Chapter IV there is an essay by Professor Milton Glass (another example of Alan Moore’s near schizophrenic capability to adjust the language to his fictional characters) which captures the essence of the Cold War and the mindset in Dr. Manhattan’s age. In the opening paragraph of this largely socio-political piece, there is another reference to the viewpoint the narratee is invited to:

Science, traditional enemy of mysticism and religion, has taken on a growing understanding that the model of the universe suggested by quantum physics differs very little from the universe that Taoists and other mystics have existed in for centuries.

Most storytellers are fascinated by the concept of time and the way it reflects in the mental construction of a narrative, whether that be oral or written. Time shapes our lives on a daily basis and in the modern world is generally regarded as a fundamental quantity, yet in more traditional cultures and models of thought, there is often a different and less formal perception of this concept:

If you look at the very earliest cultures, some of them are still extent upon the planet, the aboriginal cultures, most of their languages only have one tense. Everything is subsumed within the present. They can talk about things that happened and things that haven’t happened yet, but will happen in the future, but they talk about them in the present tense. Now it seems that not only have we split up our existence, our study of existence into all of these different areas, but we’ve also subdivided our notion of time into different zones. Whereas once, there was this great eternal present, which I assume to be the kind of constant Now that animals exist in for example. But, we as conscious individuals have as a species adapted this different notion of time, where we almost see time as a bead on a wire. That the now is this constantly moving, tiny little moment that we’re all in that is sliding inexorably along a wire from past to future. If you look at some of the models that people like Stephen Hawking have suggested for time, then you find something which is actually much closer to that primitive apprehension of how time is structured, than to our rather simplistic and fatalistic idea of past, present and future. I believe that Hawking talks about space-time as a kind of a gigantic, starry football, a rugby ball if you like. And at one end of it you have the Big Bang and at the other end of it everything comes together again in a big crunch. But, that the whole football exists all the time. That there is this gigantic hyper moment in which everything is occurring. That would mean that it was only our conscious minds that were ordering things into past, present and future.
(excerpt from the film: The Mindscape of Alan Moore)

And Watchmen is exactly this. A gigantic hyper moment which from the first panel (or in fact from the yellow smiley cover of the book) to the last is an experienced imprinted in the reader’s mind, a series of events which can be reconstructed by re-reading the book or simply perusing the pages. It is a particular moment in the midst of the Cold War, a specific mindset of humanity, but not necessarily a specific time and place. Whether that be in the 60s, 80s or any time in the past or future, the way the story is told makes it an experience of the Now, the present.
In fact the Gregorian calendar used in our daily lives is rather arbitrary and based on solar cycles, therefore much more masculine in spiritual terms . In contrast with for instance the Chinese, Mayan, Hebrew, Hindu or Muslim calendars, the Gregorian calendar has no immediate relation to the natural cycles of the moon. So in general, specific dates and numbers within esoteric or mystical circles are regarded as useless for magical or ritualistic purposes. Yet, still there is great significance given to certain dates, as happened with the approaching mass hysteria and doom scenarios before 2000.
So how will a 21st century reader view the beginning of the book, which starts in 1985? Will it feel too distant, too obsolete, too far removed from one’s own human experience? Fiction was never exclusively written by or for rational minds which would prefer to structure facts and events from A to B, from beginning to end with clear references to the most recent and familiar “reality”. Otherwise historical or science fiction writings would not be gobbled up by whole sections of the human population.
People read because they have a need for experience, for the discovery of eternal truth, the essence behind the complicated machinery that makes up our physical universe.
Imagination is not bound by time and place, fact or fiction. But it can certainly be influenced by these elements and vice versa.

This is a fiction, not a lie…
(Moore p 263, Voice of the Fire)

1985 is not really the 1985 that we as readers know, just as Orwell’s 1984 was more about 1948 and his dystopian vision of a society with no freedom of speech, language or even will. Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World is also science fiction, but the time indication is of a more abstract nature. In the same manner the 1985 that people in the former Soviet Union experienced is not the same 1985 that people in the West saw passing before their eyes and TV screens. When it came out in the cinemas, The Grapes of Wrath (Dir. John Ford, 1940) was seen in its American homeland as fiction (although of an early neo-realistic nature) while it was shown in the Soviet Union as an authentic documentary; heavy anti-propaganda to convince the Soviet citizens that they were better off than the poverty stricken American capitalist society. Cultural reality is often shaped by context and general knowledge.
In terms of epistemics and text worlds, the use of a specific date immediately prompts readers to access their own frame of reference. What do we know about 1985? What do we know about 1965? What if Nixon is still a powerful president in Alan Moore’s fictional piece of work in 1985, while the history books have a record of Watergate and we have that knowledge of him uttering his ignominious famous last words: “I am not a crook”. This creates a heightened sense of dramatic—or better said-- historic irony.
In Chapter IX, page 20, there is a conversational reference that the reporters Woodward and Bernstein are found dead in a garage. So in this alternative world the Watergate scandal was never exposed, most likely because these reporters (immortalised in the film adaptation of their book, All the President’s Men, directed by Alan J. Pakula) were assassinated in Moore’s alternative universe. History is written by conquerors and those who control the information that is presented in the media. History is after all a cultural artefact, constantly being rewritten to shape the public imagination. The masses are always one step behind the next “director’s cut ". But in the long run dystopian fictional works like Watchmen, 1984 and Brave New World (to name a few), remain powerful reminders of the dangers of mass control. Alan Moore also created another alternative world in V for Vendetta, an Orwellian story set in a fascist Britain:
I decided that if I wanted to write about this grim present, the best way to do it, was in the form of a story set in the future, which is by no means a new trend…Most dystopian science fiction is not actually about the future, it is about the times in which it was written.
(excerpt from the film: The Mindscape of Alan Moore)

Most of science fiction takes a “what if” hypothetical approach. What if Germany had won WWII, or what if the current Aids or Bird Fly pandemics destroy our societies, what if the current environmental problems deteriorate and we are left in a desert wasteland where water becomes the new currency. There is always an ominous hint or warning within a hypothesis of this nature. If set within a framework of recognisable events from our present reality, the involvement and concern of a reader with the story world is enhanced. Historical consensus is used to tap into the alternative parallel world as a new form of reality.
For example, years after I read Watchmen, I studied some psychological phenomena and discovered the concept of “the bystander effect” for which the text book example was an incident that occurred in 1964. Only then, as I recognised the name Genovese, I started to realise the true scope of experience that Alan Moore had been writing into Watchmen. Kitty Genovese was raped and stabbed to death outside her own apartment block by a psychopath while at least thirty eight bystanders looked on from the surrounding flats without taking action. The “bystander effect” is the psychological phenomenon whereby the more human beings are present in a certain critical situation, the more they will wait for each other to take action.

Responsibility simply means the ability to respond. The flow of water within its space, The harmony between Form and Content
(Lao Winti)

And it is exactly this ability which is lacking in the massively populated urban areas, with only vigilantes as the exception. Before becoming Rorschach, Walter Kovacs had taken the dress (which was never collected by a customer with an Italian name in 1962) from the garment industry where he was employed. He had found the fabric fascinating, black and white shapes moving in an amorphous symmetry. Two years later he discovered her death on the front page of the newspapers and recalled that Kitty Genovese was the woman whose dress he’d cut to pieces and kept in a trunk. Kovacs considered this a sign of fate; a bitter reminder of what humanity was capable of. This incident was one of the main catalysts that made him into Rorschach, the fabric of the dress would become his trade mark mask.
This kind of reaction to traumatic events, whether on a personal or more social level is a quintessential part of the archetypal super hero’s genesis. Batman who sees his parents killed in front of his eyes, Spiderman whose failure to take responsibility results in the death of his uncle and so on. But in Watchmen, because it is an actual event which occurred in the timeline of our history, the effect is even greater and of more mythical proportions. 1964 actually is part of our human history, Kitty Genovese was a real woman and the bystanders who did nothing were real people. Therefore Rorschach could have been a “real” person, not just a comic book character. So although the whole text world in Watchmen is an alternative world with several sci-fi elements, Moore’s weaving of fact and fiction, of environment and character into a coherent story makes the suspension of disbelief easier for the narratee.
Again, a single incident is viewed as part of a larger chain of events.
Perhaps it is no coincidence that shortly after the publication of Watchmen, Chaos Theory became extremely popular and bookshops were filled with fractal posters and new studies of cause and effect. A butterfly flaps its wings in Japan and causes a storm in the Caribbean.
Despite the complexity of themes and leitmotifs, Watchmen is not a cold scientific analysis, but a profound study of the dynamics between human beings in general and on more social and intimate levels. Later discoveries of more “real” facts, events and references came as a great surprise, because I had never analysed Watchmen in terms of pop culture references and trivia, but this was another reminder that the complexity and relevance of social and psychological issues were far more intricate in this book which was ostensibly a super hero comic. It is clear Moore must have waded through a tremendous amount of research in the process, as is evident from the numerous details, essays, facts, events and references.
Although the 1985 in Watchmen is an alternative universe, it is one constructed around actual facts and events. There are only a few “what ifs” and these variables still haven’t changed the essence of human nature or politics. The utopia Adrian Veidt is aiming for is simply impossible, because greed and fear are not easily eradicated from human civilisation, as the last few thousand years have proven.
Moore also makes numerous references to antiquity, the power mongers of the classical world. Veidt uses the superhero nom de guerre Ozymandias, the Greek name for Ramses II; the Egyptian pharaoh under whose reign scores of people died to build pyramids and other monoliths of arrogant power; a man of flesh and blood immortalized in the poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley.
The aspirations of historical figures, whether from legend or fact, still echo into the modern world. Alexander the Great was after all in many ways a spoiled child, with no other ambitions than to conquer more land. Hubris seems to be inherent to human nature, the aspirations of Icarus to fly past the sun with feathers held together by wax, or the grand plans to build our Babylonian towers reaching to the heavens. Instead of using our power to maintain that which we have at our disposal, we relentlessly search for the “new”.
At present multi-billion dollar expeditions are launched to find water on Mars, while a fraction of those squandered sums could be utilised to develop more energy efficient industries to keep the pollution of the earth’s environment to a minimum. As the old saying goes “The fool is thirsty in the abundance of water.” Similarly in Watchmen, most of the characters do not even realise the value of their power or cannot see the beauty of their world and the dynamics between its inhabitants.
Veidt, known as “the smartest man in the world” has the Alexander the Great syndrome running through his veins and considers himself to be above all humanity. He has taken on the role of a demi-god, gaining power through financial means with the intention to use that power not only to control the lives of people, but to create his own vision of Utopia. A planet where all of humanity will live together in peace.
Rorschach on the other end of the spectrum, is roaming the gutters and fringes of society, operating on the level of animal survival which is far removed from Veidts marble tiled corridors of power. While he decides to take action and fight crime and filth on a micro-scale from his worm’s eye perspective, Veidt schemes in Machiavellian ways from the heights of his ivory tower in order to solve society’s problems on a macro-scale.
Of all the characters, Dr. Manhattan is the most powerful and omnipotent, the closest thing to a god humans could imagine. He controls matter to the smallest atom and experiences life on quantum levels in ways which humans cannot even measure with the existing technology. Yet the great paradox is that his own power limits his course of action. Because he experiences everything simultaneously, in past, present and future, he becomes impassive to the needs of humanity around him. There is nothing more to achieve, nothing new to explore, no compassion to share, no destiny to fulfil. To Dr. Manhattan everything is, was and always will be, so there seems no reason to act or intervene. Veidt’s extraordinary intellect also seems rather void of compassion, but he still has human ambitions and visions of grandeur. History does repeat itself and although Veidt tries to improve upon Alexander the Great’s goal to create a united civilisation, he fails just as his hero did more than two millennia before. Veidt goes one step further and goes for the ultimate form of hubris: to control the entire world’s human destiny, not just his own. Where Alexander the Great tried to achieve unison through conquest of lands and other civilisations, Veidt attempts to control the world and shape the events to come by controlling the perception and mindset of human beings. He achieves this through the manipulation of the mainstream media by spreading panic about Dr. Manhattan’s supposed radio-active presence and ultimately through the telepathic fear of his bio-engineered “alien” creature, which perhaps can be seen as an echo of H.P. Lovecraft’s Ctulhu, all primordial fears amplified to a point of overkill. The last chapter which reveals the massacre that is instrumental to his goal, is ironically called: A Stronger Loving World.
History is predominantly shaped by a whole chain of despots who believe that the end justifies the means. Within a few decades of the 20th century alone, there are a few top of the bill examples. From Mao Zedong to Hitler to Stalin, who is often quoted: "A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic." Although Veidt has travelled the far east and studied its philosophy and culture, he has taken on board only what seems fit to his Machiavellian nature. Taoists do not believe in attempts to control our life or surroundings, but in the natural flow of things. This does not mean we should remain passive, but that our actions should aim for balance and should remain as natural as breathing or eating, while acknowledging the diversity of live styles, ideas and cultures around us. Most tyrannical systems seek the opposite: uniformity, because it is easier to understand and control.
Chapter XI starts with Adrian Veidt’s reference to William Burroughs’ cut-up technique. Burroughs had developed this technique (in fact the original concept came from his friend, painter Brian Gysin), which simply entailed cutting up a text and placing words and sentences, paragraphs in random order to come to new meanings.

Cut-ups are seen as a way of duplicating drug states: non-linear, producing irrational or illogical material, they are a way of ‘deranging the senses’ in the Rimbaud sense, a concept that has interested Burroughs since the forties. They free the writer from the tyranny of grammar and syntax. They enable anyone to write poetry: ‘Anyone who owns a pair of scissors can be a poet.’ They are a way of discovering ‘terminal truth’, literally reading between the lines’. Cut-ups create new juxtapositions, breaking down ‘either/or’ logic and providing a way of thinking in association blocks. Cut-ups make explicit the actual phenomenon of writing and show it to the reader, revealing the psychological process of what was going on – literally a map of the writer’s consciousness, a true confessional.
(Miles p 131)

T.S. Elliot’s poem The Waste Land (published in 1922), is often regarded as a precursor of this technique, because of its modernistic approach and abrupt changes of narrator, setting and time, its vast range of references to various cultures and literary sources.
Burroughs has influenced many writers and artists, including Alan Moore and in many ways the whole of Watchmen can be viewed as a more organised and stylised way of executing this principle. In some respects it is reminiscent to Moore’s own theory of “under language” in comics where a combination of pictures and words creates new meanings. This is related to the way we can structure things either in a linear or nonlinear way inside our mind. When we are plunged into the world of fiction, time and dates become irrelevant. It is the pure essence of things we experience. Alan Moore has occasionally mentioned that his work should function like a drug and put the reader into a fugue state. In many ways, most of his fiction has a similar effect to psychedelic drugs (LSD, Psylocibin e.g.) which have the effect of warping time and opening the perception to a sort of hyper reality.
But Alan Moore’s work cannot be classified as strictly historical or metaphysical. His vision and interests often seem centered around the idea of a profound and intense mystical experience, an epiphany of sorts, very similar to the energy in William Blake’s work. He approaches the craft of writing as an act of magic, a ritual to subliminally weave this energy into the various genres and storylines of his comics. Authors who lean towards this approach are mostly occupied with the exploration of space in the broadest sense of the word, not just physical space as we know it from the common connotation. Like Michael Moorcock in books like King of the City, or William Burroughs in The Western Lands and other works, Alejandro Jodorowsky in his films and comics, many authors seek to explore the course of human history on different levels and in a more mythical and mystical context.
This can be compared to the kind of “associative writing”, where the reader almost experiences the story through a multi-channel mosaic, not unlike the mosaic of reality through which Adrian Veidt absorbs knowledge, forms his view on the world and devises his plot to achieve Utopia. In the film The Man Who Fell to Earth (Dir. Nicolas Roeg), David Bowie as an alien life form develops a similar fascination with televisions and studies the idiosyncrasies and nature of humanity through the kaleidoscope of TV screens.
In the modern world, we search and make up our own version of reality from the overwhelming amount of information which seeps through numerous sources and media. In many traditional forms of fiction, this has often been the main goal. The search for “Eternal Truth,” partly expressed in emotional truth. There are many levels of understanding beyond the ordinary senses or the rational and more linear streams of thought. In the whole programmed clockwork mechanism of rational and goal driven thought that has become so rigidly embedded in contemporary culture and consensus reality, Moore’s Watchmen is that upsetting grain of sand; a multi-faceted literary jewel.

This search for a metaphysical meaning beyond linguistics, beyond politics and characterisation is nothing new in fiction, but in Watchmen there is an incredibly perfect marriage between those often elusive extremes of Form and Content. Alan Moore’s grand script and Dave Gibbons clear-but-expressive style are alchemically fused into a detailed mosaic of visual and linguistic clues. It is very much in that tradition of the “metaphysical or literary detective” as encountered for example in the fiction of Jorge Luis Borges or the Rork comic series by the Bretagne based German artist-writer Andreas. Around the conception of From Hell in the early 1990s, Moore started to discover that the whole writing process for him really was an act of magic, the manipulation of consciousness through any medium he could lays his hands on. Moore’s own approach as an author is that of a historical detective, deciphering the smoke signals of civilisation through the passage of time, yet at the same time exploring the technical possibilities of storytelling (both form and content) in more depth.

Watchmen also grew out of the politically shadowy landscape of the 1980s, when the cold war was at probably at its hottest in 20 or 30 years, and when nuclear destruction suddenly seemed a very real possibility. Watchmen used the clichés of the superhero format to try and discuss notions of power, and responsibility in an increasingly complex world. We treated these fairly ridiculous superhuman characters as more human than super. We were using them as symbols of different kinds of ordinary human beings, rather than as different super beings. I think there were probably quite a few things about Watchmen that chimed well with the times, but to me perhaps the most important was the actual storytelling, where the world that was presented didn’t really hang together in terms of linear cause and effect. But was instead seen as some massively complex simultaneous event with connections made of coincidence, synchronicity and I think that it was this worldview, if anything, that resonated with an audience that had realised that their previous view of the world was not adequate for the complexities of this shadowy and scary new world that we were entering into. I think that Watchmen if it offered anything, offered new possibilities as to how we perceive the environment surrounding us and the interactions and relationships of the people within it.
(excerpt from the film: The Mindscape of Alan Moore)

Watchmen is in essence a study of power in the modern world. Various notions of power are analysed and how different characters, nations or individuals deal with them.
Power in general means the ability to do or act. There is of course the connotation of control over others or to make others do things, to manipulate. In other words, power has come to mean “authority” instead of energy. Dr Manhattan has perhaps the greatest power of all, but exactly because of this has no need to abuse that power. He is just a mass of energy, beyond the whims and desires of mortal human beings, very similar to that ideal of the Taoist sage. But beneath all the intricate plotting and philosophy, the elaborate and realistic characterisation conveys Alan Moore’s main vision as a compassionate author. There is a firm belief that every single human being has the power to control their own destiny and change the world with every form of action.
Twenty years later Watchmen is maybe even more relevant than it was in the Cold War period. We are now able to step back in some way and read the story from other perspectives. The current technological growth is almost frightening. Every so many months new and faster computer processors are available. Wars are started in the blink of an eye without international resolutions or political consensus. The world’s resources are depleted to fabricate consumer products and dreadful weapons which only a short while ago belonged to the realm of science fiction. The environment is under pressure from the growing human population. A quick glance at the newspapers and TV and it is clear that fear is still governing humanity and the global economy the world has become.
Everything is financially and geographically more connected than in previous centuries and yet the common threat of terrorism, crime, environmental issues and global pandemics are still not sufficient to deter humanity from waging wars. Therefore, Adrian Veidt’s vision of Utopia still rings naïve and does not take into the equation the simple element of human greed which is often stronger than that basic human fear which restrains violent urges . Greed is unfortunately a stronger and more prevailing driving force than the compassion for a larger community. Humanity is still preoccupied with the urge to own or control material objects, while there is still a general sense of hubris to search for those things beyond the immediate grasp. Because of the specific Cold War background, we are forced to look at the events in a certain political light, yet the book remains timeless as a complete experience of humanity’s sense of history and an appreciation for the miracles of life.
So at the heart of this incredibly dark narrative journey into the abyss, there is a sense of great compassion, a real concern from the author about the state of the world and how certain individuals take responsibility or power while the majority looks on.
Beneath it all, there is a moral conclusion: We simply cannot ignore actions of any kind in the present world we live in, because whether we view ourselves as a global society with a global economy or as human beings connected by each other in the spiritual space-time continuum of this universe, everything and everybody is connected.
Published in the 80s, with a story line starting in 1985 Watchmen remains a tremendously rich and polyvalent reading experience, with interpretations bifurcating into infinite possibilities, which is why the book continues to capture the imagination of millions of readers. Twenty years onwards, Watchmen has established itself as one of the greatest myths of the 20th century. In the end myths capture the essence of things beneath the surface and carry them forward to new generations. In an increasingly complex world filled with facts and statistics they are our only window to glimpse a part of that greater and purer sense of truth. Watchmen is in many respects an incredibly potent and lasting linguistic drug which still stirs the imagination of millions of readers.

Things does not mean only those things without sentience; it is said that man is a thing. The space between heaven and earth is the inn for the travelling back and forth of both men and things. In the end, there is no standing still for either men or things. The passing of time is like the unending passing of the traveller, and the gradual passing of spring, summer, fall and winter has not changed for a hundred generations. The body is like a dream. When we see this and awake, not a trace remains. How much time is left for the looking?
(Takuan Soho, 17th century Zen master)

Works Cited and Consulted

The Bhagavad Gita. Translated from the Sanskrit by Juan Mascaró.Penguin Books Ltd. London. Copyright, Juan Mascaro, 1962.
Capra, Fritjof. The Tao of Physics. Shambala Publications, Inc., 1975.
Christensen, William A. and Mark Seifert. “The Unexplored Medium.” Wizard 27 (1993).
Daalders, Martijn, ed. Stripjaar 1990. Amsterdam: Sherpa, 1990.
Eisner, Will. Comics and Sequential Art. Tamarac: Poorhouse Press, 1985.
Gonick, Larry. Neo-Babelonia: A Serious Study in Contemporary Confusion. Utrecht: Uitgeverij L.J.Veen B.V., 1989.
Lefevre, Pascal & Jan Baetens. Strips Anders Lezen. Stichting Sherpa en het Belgisch Centrum van her Beeldverhaal (BCB), 1993.
McCloud, Scott. Understanding Comics. Northampton: Kitchen Sink Press Inc., 1993.
Miles, Barry. El Hombre Invisible: William Burroughs.Virgin Books. London, 1992.
The Mindscape of Alan Moore. Dir. DeZ Vylenz. Shadowsnake Films, 2003, 2006
Moore, Alan & Dave Gibbons. Watchmen. DC Comics Inc. New York, 1986.
Moore, Alan. Voice of the Fire. Marietta: Top Shelf, 2003.
Rimmon-Kenan, Shlomith. Narrative Fiction: Contemporary Poetics. London: Routledge, 1994.
Sabin, Roger. Adult Comics: An Introduction. London: Routledge, 1993.
Takuan Soho. The Unfettered Mind: Writings of the Zen master to the Sword Master. Translated by William Scott Wilson. Kodansha International Ltd. Tokyo, New York, London.
Lao Winti. The Chronicles of a Mental Tidal Wave. Chapter IV, The Pavilion of the Forking Paths.
Wiater, Stanley & Stephen R. Bissette. Comic Book Rebels: Conversations with the Creators of the New Comics. New York: Donald I. Fine Inc., 1993.
Wales, Katie. A Dictionary of Stylistics. New York: Longman Group Limited, 1989.

LADRÖNN interview [2]

2008-12-04T07:57:00.000-08:00

Interview by smoky man & Antonio Solinas. Conducted in May 2008.
Originally printed in Italy on Scuola di Fumetto magazine (N. 61, July 2008, Coniglio Editore).
Presented here in English for the first time.
Above: Cover for The Atom N. 25.

The Atom published by DC Comics.

LADRÖNN interview [1]

11. In a interview, talking about his style, John Romita Jr. said: “I still don’t believe I have a style as such. If anything, I call it a deadline style; whatever comes out on time, that’s me. You’re given a plot and told you have approximately three weeks to finish it or you don’t get paid. […] I’d be interested to see what my work would look like if I had plenty of time and plenty of money. I’d love to have the amount of time that some European artists seem to have, which is maybe a year, or year and half to do one piece of work. I suppose then it would have a very different look, and maybe I’d develop a style of my own. But then again, maybe it wouldn’t be as good, because I would be overthinking and overworking the pages. As it is, it’s rapid fire and immediate and it works out just fine.” [from Artists on Comic Art by Mark Salisbury, Titan Books] I am curious to know what your opinion about this. Also, what do you think of deadlines and was you ever conditioned by them?
Ladrönn: The deadline is definitely something you need to learn to deal with. Romita said something that is true, and that is the sad reality of the USA comics books industry. Romita - and many other artists - have the same problem: the big publishers like Marvel and DC Comics need to produce a lot of books and the artist must draw on a page-a-day basis. This is a very complicated task because the quality of the work is not always is the best at the end of the day. When I started to work at Marvel I saw the deadlines as a big issue… you feel that there is no time to work out the details. For that reason I prefer to stay on the side, not drawing comics books for the mainstream, not only because I don't want to compromise my style again but… my health.

12. When you work on a story do you prefer working on a full script or do you like more working with the Marvel approach of a simple plot to be developed by the penciler?
The best way is the full script, because you know what the characters are talking about, if they are happy or sad, otherwise you can't add feelings to the story. On the contrary if the penciler develops the plot I think it will work better, because he knows what is going on in the story, unfortunately the writer is the one who creates plots the most of the time and artist never know what the writer is thinking between the lines.

13. Any desire to write and draw your own created comics?
Absolutely, I like to write but you need time to create a great story so, maybe some day, when I have the time I will prepare something.

14. What does it mean for you - as a professional comics artist - “experimenting” with your Art?
I experiment with my art all the time. I like to improve my work everyday, there is always a way to do your artwork even better.

15. From your privileged point of observation, what’s your perception of USA comics market status? Is it too much super-heroes based – even if in this period we can see some diversity?
The comics are a mirror of the society in every country. In the USA the hero culture is very strong. They have a very particular vision of the world: sometimes for US people is difficult to see beyond their borders but I hope it changes some day and the horizons will open even more for the comic readers because there are wonderful books outside the United States domestic market. At the moment I think publishers like Image Comics, DC Comics and some others have been bringing great European and Asiatic works to the States. I also think that a line of comic books like Vertigo is very good and healthy for the USA readers.

16. On the other side, what about the French comics market?
I don't know very much about the business side of French market: this is the first time I have a book done specifically for the European mainstream… ask me the same question in ten years and I will let you know, but I know the quality of the French books, and how much care the French and other European publishers put in their products. As I said before my biggest artistic influences come not only from French but European graphic novels and now that I'm involved I can see how professional they are.

17. What’s your opinion about the “graphic novel” tendency?
I think the US comic book mainstream publishers need to take some time to think about the future of the industry, starting with a big filtering of their products, because there are many books and editions published every month with very bad quality. This happens because there is no time to do something better, it is a endless race without sense. I think the graphic novel is the best way to start producing less but better books because, if you start taking more care of your comics books then the readers will learn that they can be something which deserves a special place in their home library.

18. And about the strong connection of comics and Hollywood? Any pros and cons?
Comics and Hollywood: I think that formula is working pretty well in the USA now. Hollywood has discovered a new market, I only hope the movie industry opens more to characters from other cultures. I would love to see a live action movie of Ranxerox. The only big con I see here in the USA is the media censorship at any level: in the United States everybody is frightened of being sued by some stupid association or people.

19. Your dream project?
The Incal.

20. Which comics do you regularly read?
I don't read many books nowadays. I don't have much time to read but, I like European comics, I always buy the Spanish editions and I also like to read manga.

21. Let’s close with a big one. Comics: industry or art?
Both but I think the industry is leading the race.

LADRÖNN interview [1]

2008-12-04T02:08:00.000-08:00

1. Let’s start talking about your last project. It’s recent news that you are currently at work on Last Incal, the sequel of the famous saga created by Alexandro Jodorowsky and Moebius, written by Jodorowsky himself. How did it happen? What can you reveal about the story in itself and about your collaboration with the great visionary writer? If I remember well you two already collaborated in the past on a short story printed on the last version of Metal Hurlant magazine.
Ladrönn: It is not easy to explain sometimes how things happen in life, I always say. I met Alexandro Jodorowsky three times: first when I used to read his books, the second time in 1997 at the San Diego Comic Con, but it was only in 2000, in the headquarters of the Humanoids Publishing, in Los Angeles California, that I was officially introduced to Alexandro in a more formal way by the Humanoids owner, Fabrice Giger. It was during that meeting that Alexandro thought that I could do a short story for the Metal Hurlant magazine. One month later I got a sadistic script written by Alexandro, "Tears of Gold". I think that was the work that allowed me to show Alexandro my artistic skills. After that short story was published, Alexandro talked with Moebius and they both agreed that I could be a good candidate to continue with the final part of the Incal saga. Then, some time later, Alexandro contacted me and in a few weeks I had the first script: this time the story was real and not a dream like in the Moebius' Incal.
Now I only know the Final Incal book is done and John Difool is back again with a fantastic story.

2. Were you a bit intimidated by this work? I mean, it’s Jodorowsky, you have on you Moebius’ shadow, it’s one of the most acclaimed saga in comics…
You feel intimidated by the unknown but for me the Incal has been part of my life for many years. I was very young when I saw Incal Noir, that beautiful book that Jodorowsky and Moebius did many years ago. I can say that in that moment I thought for the first time that I should become a comic book artist. Many years later I started to work for USA mainstream publishers and after some years in the business I had the opportunity to meet some people from the Humanoids Publishing in Los Angeles. They invited me to do some covers for the USA edition of the Incal: I think those cover works were very important, because I was able to show Alexandro and the Humanoids my personal vision of the Incal.

3. Previously you focused you activity on making covers for DC (The Atom series), Marvel (The Incredible Hulk) and Image Comics (Elephantmen). What’s your approach in creating a cover? Do you usually read a preview of the story or any sequential art samples? What about your interaction with the editor?
I love to do covers. I usually ask for a small synopsis of the story so I can have an idea of what the story is about or I ask the editor to tell me a couple of ideas about what he think could be great. At the end of the day I start doing a couple of sketches, and after the design is approved I start drawing. All kinds of references are always welcome so I can have a neat idea of the characters. At the very beginning I prefer to work quite traditionally but I always end up doing the important retouches and adjustments by using the computer.

4. What does it mean for you to be a cover artist?
Being a cover artist is a great thing. Your art becomes the face of a book, and because it's always a single image you can do - if you want - not one but two or three covers every month. The best thing is that you don't get stressed as much as when you are painting a comic book page which is a really hard job.

5. Let’s take a step back. The first time I saw your art was on an Amalgam book starring Spiderboy, a funny mix of Marvel’s Spiderman and DC’s Superboy. It was 1997, wasn’t it? Long time ago… I was delighted by your style so fresh and at the same time an instant classic. It was your first work for the USA market, wasn’t it? In the same period, I also remember a short black and white story in Marvel’s Shadows and Light. At a first look your art revealed - especially in your past Cable’s run - a deep influence, maybe a legacy, from Jack Kirby. How much Kirby is in your style? Which is the most important lesson, the big secret, you learned from The King?
Spiderboy was definitely a very funny work, quite silly though. It was a strange mixture of the DC and the Marvel Universe, what a mess!... My very first work was a short story featuring "Blade", the vampire hunter for the "Marvel Shadows and Light" book. I remember very well: it was a book only with black and white art. I think that was very nice to me because I love comics in black and white only. My style has always been more European but when I started to work for Marvel I had to adapt it to something more commercial. It had to be in a language which could be easier to understand for US readers and I thought immediately about the books that I used to read when I was just a child: Kamandi, The Demon, Mister Miracle, The Fantastic Four, all works by Jack Kirby. When the time allowed me, I put a lot of details on my pages but a monthly book is an insane way of working. I think Jack Kirby is one of the greatest artists, not only because he drew a lot of comic books but because he fought with the big companies in order to get very important rights for USA artists; his legacy is extremely important. I think I have learned from him a lot of things: he was a master of the sequential art and the dynamics of the characters but there are many others things. One of the most important things I learned is the way he used to add such great energy to every page and how to place elements in order to achieve an efficient artistic composition.

6. Apart from Kirby, I see in your art a certain passion for details (such as in Geof Darrow’s works), a touch of manga and ligne claire (especially Moebius). What are your influences and artistic references, not only in comics medium?
My biggest influences are from the European artists, but I grew up reading books by Jack Kirby, John Romita… I also saw books by Will Eisner and Buscema… but my style always pointed to a more sophisticated direction. I think the works of Moebius, Druillet, Boucq, Bilal, Manara inspired me a lot. I love manga, artists like Otomo, Masamune Shirow and Naoki Urasawa are so brilliant. I also love movies. My favorite movie director is Ridley Scott and in recent times Guillermo Del Toro.

7. Your style then moved into painting more than just pencils. I think this approach started on the wonderful and powerful Inhumans miniseries and on a brief Thor story. Absolutely stunning with its Gimenez’s Metabarons and Bilal look! And this continues today even if I suppose now you are also using a bit of pc coloring programs such as Photoshop. Was this just a creative change that you wanted to go toward? Is this “painted Ladronn stuff” the “real” Ladronn?
I'm not an artist married to only one technique or media. It is the work, which always demands what kind of tools you need to use. When I was working on Cable, I was only using a pencil; for The Inhumans book I started to ink my pages but when you move to the color stage things change a lot because you always draw keeping in mind the way you are going to color it later. Sometimes you don't need to draw many things if you are going to paint those specific areas. My covers and my pages use all kind of media. I employ what I think will work better. I think you can see the real Ladrönn in all the Hip Flask books, but especially in the Final Incal.

8. What kind of tools or techniques do you use? What about your standard work day and your average daily page production? Do you work in a studio or at home?
I work at home, that is great for me because I have all my tools and books always with me. I think it helps me to feel comfortable. About my work: it is very difficult to say how long it takes to do this and that. It changes all the time. I have done two pages in a day but there are pages which take 4 or 5 days, the same thing happens when I paint a cover or a single page. I work with many traditional tools: my drawing tools are the same used by manga artists, the paper and all my pen line markers are Japanese. I prefer them for their quality. I love to paint with watercolors, acrylics and gouache but the deadlines are more and more tight every time so I work a lot with an Apple computer and a Cintiq tablet, that is the only way I can meet my deadlines.

9. I know you come from Mexico. When and where did you start your career in comics?
I started drawing comics books in the United States for Marvel. Before that I worked in a design agency in México City, in a newspaper and in a broadcast company doing all kind of promos and TV commercials for the station.

10. Did you attend any art school? Which was your artistic training?
I studied graphic and technical design but I learned to draw and paint by my own. Schools don't teach many things so you need to have some skills and a lot of patience to learn to do the things in the way you want.

LADRÖNN interview [2]

Article: Mike Carey on Watchmen

2008-10-23T15:59:00.000-07:00

Popular comics writer and novelist Mike Carey wrote the afterword and now, for the first time, he gives his permission to show here the original English version. Enjoy! And thanks to Mr. Carey of course!

Meanwhile, Up on a Huge Hill
by Mike Carey

Sometime around the Easter of 1987, I was coming back down to London from Liverpool in a National Express coach, and I stopped into that comic shop just off Lime Street, a few doors up from the Legs of Man pub – you know the one, yeah? – to buy something to read for the journey. A lot of people had been talking to me about Watchmen, so that’s what I bought – the first six issues, all at once. It was, in some ways, an irrevocable step.

Two decades on, the central metaphors of Watchmen continue to ricochet around inside my head, hitting the other objects that are piled up in there and setting them off in turn in a sort of perpetual chain of Brownian motion. There’s no help for it: that’s what great art in any medium does. You just have to learn to live with the constant feeling of slight vertigo that it brings about, and not drive or operate heavy machinery while under the influence.

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Who will watch the watchmen? Well that’s what we all want to know right now, perhaps even more urgently in the age of Bush and Blair than in the days of Thatcher and Reagan. It’s a question that never goes out of fashion, more’s the bloody pity.

But I said metaphor, not allegory. Watchmen isn’t the sort of book that opens with a key, and turns out to have been talking about one particular thing all along, under the light disguises of fantasy. It resonates on every level, from the psychological to the mythic by way of the political. It has meanings but no morals. It refuses consolation both to the new frontiersman Rorschach and the utopian dreamer Ozymandias.

Perhaps that’s why it’s aged so well. It’s a trite truth that nothing dates faster than the topical, and nothing is more topical than the timeless. By cutting itself loose from any real world context, and yet at the same time tying itself so precisely to an era that could have/couldn’t have/could have happened, Watchmen has the best of both worlds: the acerbic accuracy of social commentary, and the endless, effortless now of fairy stories and myth cycles.

In trying to sort out my feelings about the book after all this time, I find Terry Gilliam’s response to it a useful index to my own. Gilliam loved Watchmen – famously calling it “the War and Peace of comic books” – and for many years fully intended to make a movie version of it. It’s listed in Bob McCabe’s “Dark Knights and Holy Fools” as one of the “great unmade”. But in retrospect, Gilliam has no regrets about not making the film: he ended up feeling that the process of translation would strip out most of what made the book so valuable, and leave you with “just straight comic book heroes again.”

In the same way, earnest commentary runs the risk of strip-mining the dense intra-textuality of Watchmen – the way it comments on and modifies and inverts and undercuts its own narrative – and taking out of it a single, narrative thread with a single paraphraseable meaning. I think, as academic endeavours go, that would be the sort of project that King Canute would endorse.

Sometimes you just have the good fortune to set up your tent in the right place. It can be a complete accident – choosing a theme or a setting that turns out to be right in ways you couldn’t anticipate – or it can be the result of long and meticulous planning. Watchmen, I think, is an example of both. Some of the most haunting and successful aspects of its rich tapestry, like the playing on Einstein’s famous “watchmaker” quote and the agonising ironies of having a well-meaning psychiatrist trying to read meaning into Rorschach, were clearly always part of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’s many-dimensional game plan. Others, like the blood-stained smiley badge which became so resonant an icon, happened along the way and were incorporated and added their own unexpected richnesses to the whole.

And history, in its different way, does the same thing – adds layers of meaning to the text, and changes the way you respond to it. I don’t want to draw a comparison between Adrian Veidt’s grand design and the events of 9/11: there are good reasons for not going there. But I can’t help, now, when I’m re-reading the book, comparing the real and the fictional disasters, and measuring Veidt’s ambitions and his qualified success by the standards of a world which now has some vivid, recent examples of the public and official responses to immeasurable tragedy.

As we go through life, we look for guides and interpreters to help us turn its noise into signals – not because we believe that life has to make sense but because we can only bear so much ambiguity and pointlessness before we get sick. If you’re smart, you’ll avoid the snake-oil salesmen who’ll offer to explain the whole thing for you, sell you a map or give you precise directions. Trust the guys who look puzzled and worried themselves, and who don’t pretend to have all the answers: just some different routes through the questions that you can take for yourself and chew over at your leisure afterwards.

With Watchmen the more you keep coming back, the more those routes keep opening up and taking you away from the conclusions you expected to reach. As Donne said,

“On a huge hill,
Cragged and steep, Truth stands, and he that will
Reach her, about must and about must go.”

Yeah. I couldn’t have put it better myself. But Moore and Gibbons could, and did.

Mike Carey
April 2006

[this article is copyright Mike Carey. All rights reserved. Published here with the author's permission.]

Read the book introduction by legendary writer Michael Moorcock here.

Interview: SERGIO TOPPI [3]

2008-09-14T09:59:00.000-07:00

Interview and translation (from Italian) by smoky man & Fabrizio Lo Bianco.

Interview: SERGIO TOPPI [2]

2008-09-13T11:29:00.000-07:00

Interview and translation (from Italian) by smoky man & Fabrizio Lo Bianco.

Originally printed in Studio Space, a book about comics artists in their studio by Joel Meadows and Gary Marshall published by Image Comics in 2008.
In his review CBR columnist Augie De Blieck Jr. wrote: "Hey, it's not like you're going to read too many interviews with Sergio Toppi anywhere else. That was a pleasant surprise in the book."

Interview: SERGIO TOPPI [1]

The Studio Space
I work in my home, in a room with a big table which I’d like to be even bigger because it’s always loaded with drawing materials and reference. All around me I have books and magazines. For the most part they are useful for my work but there are also publications I take in the studio simply because I am bound to them. National Geographic is one of the magazines which fill the room. I used to buy it regularly, but not anymore for the simple reason that I need to free up more space. I do like to look around and see my toy soldiers and my collection of helmets. This is a great passion of mine which I have in common with many illustrators of my generation. I also have a small music player system—a gift of a friend—and a photograph of my wife Aldina.
For a long time I would listen to the radio while I was drawing, but I have discovered again the importance of silence. I sometimes think that in modern society silence and the ability to listen are very rare goods. Some time ago I received as a gift a fax machine which is placed on the table edge. It’s very useful for my work as I have never owned a computer, despite many of my colleagues telling me that they can be a very useful tool, especially for doing research over the internet. I also always keep within reach a small hairdryer for drying the inks. So this is the space where I work and, apart from it being as full as an egg, I find it very comfortable.
You know I am not inclined to consider comics as art. I think comics are a ‘handicraft,’ though sometimes they can be handicraft of the very highest quality. Comics are just a handicraft work because they have such complexity; you need a script, there is the drawing, a time scansion, you need colouring, you need to present the story in a strict amount of pages. A ‘fine artist’ could do everything he wants, he could draw a chair with five legs and nobody can say a word... a comics artist has to draw that chair with four standard legs. So this becomes a process of activities that are more similar to handicraft than art in my humble opinion.
Compared to illustration, comics need much more dedication, both in time and effort. You really have to plan things. With illustration there is less constraint, there is no sequence to do. So sometimes I have more fun doing an illustration, it can be more direct, from the idea to the page. So it’s a very different approach for me. An illustration, even an elaborate one, has a specific location on the page. You just have to pay attention to the right balance of the composition. With sequential art, with comics, things are more complicated, you have to consider many more factors and elements.
Before starting a new story I spend several days searching for reference material. It is very difficult for an artist to imagine everything so I will go to bookshops and libraries, because it’s important to have a good photographic library. I know today things are much easier with the computer, but as I mentioned I don’t have one. So, it’s important for me to go out and collect images and references and put them in a personal archive that is ready to be used if needed.
An artist has to be able to find elements for his work from everything he sees during each day. When you work on your own story you know from the very beginning how you will draw things and that they will engage you. When you work with a writer however it could happen that you find yourself having to draw something that you don’t like. It’s a very difficult thing to have a perfect symbiosis between the artist and the writer. Both of them try to prevail.

You can go in your favourite direction when it is just yourself writing and drawing. I don’t write a full script. I prefer to progressively develop a story which has a sense of its own. Usually I don’t make any storyboard. I don’t like to work on a story totally planned from the beginning. Once I have the story and I know how it goes, I will put down some brief notes, a list of the key events, just to visualize the sequence, but usually I go directly on the page.
I often see that a first drawing has an energy, an impact that you can’t find in an inked piece.

Generally I draw the pages in the right order starting out at the beginning, though it could happen that I start from a specific page, or a panel, and I build the rest around it. I draw the pages in full, adding the text and paying a lot of attention to the balance, such as where to place the balloons. I will deliberately sacrifice the balance of the page though to put focus on a particular element or figure. Sometimes I draw a page at the first attempt. But in other cases I could need more time. It’s really difficult to predict. I do have a very flexible procedure, but knowing the deadline helps!

I try to maintain a sense of freshness, often by just doing a preliminary sketchy pencil and then going directly to the final version in inks. I am fascinated by the strong contrast between black and white. It seems to me like something ‘definitive.’ For this same reason I love etching. And maybe you can feel this passion reflected in my own style. For colours, I again prefer using inks. I like the transparency you can obtain with them.
It is fundamental to be very critical, very severe regarding your own work. If I am not satisfied with a page, I feel a great discomfort looking at it. Drawing is a means of expressing myself, doing what I like, recreating on paper some historical events or legends that have fascinated me. So if a page is ‘wrong’ then it is something to be eliminated, even if you have worked on it for a long time. So trashing a piece becomes a sort of liberation. On the other hand I like to keep with me the pages I consider to be well done.
That said I really don’t know why my art has become so appreciated. I know of this admiration for my work and I am pleased by this, but I don’t know what the inner reasons are. I have no explanation, and I don’t speak English so I don’t think I will ever be able to get in direct contact with many of the American artists who have expressed pleasure from my work.

Interview: SERGIO TOPPI [3]

Interview: SERGIO TOPPI [1]

2008-09-11T12:20:00.000-07:00

Interview and translation (from Italian) by smoky man & Fabrizio Lo Bianco.

Getting Started
I began my career while I was still attending high school in the early Fifties. I did some illustrations for an encyclopaedia aimed at a young audience, published by Mondadori, an important Italian publishing house. I continued with illustration throughout the ‘50s and early sixties, working for the UTET, Italy’s oldest publishing house, and as an animator working on various advertising campaigns for Pagot animation. The comics would come much later.
It wasn’t until the mid-Sixties that I actually began to draw comics professionally. I drew Il Mago Zurlì (The Zurli Wizard) which was followed by a biography of Pietro Micca, the hero of the siege of Turin, in Il Corriere dei Piccoli. So I found myself drawing primarily historical comics, lots of war stories, with writer Milo Milani. This formed the series Grandi Avventure di Pace e di Guerra, even though, like much of my work it was really a collection of “one-off” stories. If I’m going to draw a series rather than a single story, then I do prefer to be the writer, which is how Sharaz-de and Il Collezionista came about, as well as the numerous stories that have appeared in the Corto Maltese magazine over the years.
My style is often described as unique, but I have been drawing for a long time now, so the influences come from everywhere.

It’s important to look around and be aware of what’s happening. But the main thing is to find a personal voice. When you work in comics, in any artistic field, the most difficult thing is researching for a personal style. Which way you’ll find it, I don’t know. There is no formula. It happens. It’s natural to look at other comic artists, the ones you like. But you have to avoid repeating things already done. Here in Italy, I like the work of Angelo Stano, Nicola Mari, Lorenzo Mattotti and Sergio Zaniboni. From further afield I enjoy Daniel Zezelj who did many works in Italy too, and André Juillard, a French artist. Also I really like Enrique Brecchia, who, like his father Alberto, is a great artist. But I am sure I am forgetting many others.

I watch many movies. Even in a minor production it’s possible to find an interesting sequence, a good shot, different kinds of shots, so that each and every frame could be very useful. From a technical point of view, I think that for a comic artist, cinema can have a big influence. A cinematographic drawing style is very important, it’s useful to capture the figure in motion. I also find the period between the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th century to be very exciting with regards to the creativity amongst the ‘fine artist.’ I like Schiele and Klimt, all the artists from the Secession movement, even the minor ones, I think are extraordinary. It was the time of applied arts and even a napkin could become an art object. They were great ‘craftsmen’ able to work in many different artistic fields.

Interview: SERGIO TOPPI [2]
Interview: SERGIO TOPPI [3]

Comics: Antonio Solinas & Dave Taylor

2008-09-01T08:29:00.000-07:00

[click on the above image to ENLARGE]

And again, a story for Italian magazine Mono (Mono N.2, to be precise). We have already spoken about Mono, so all that is left to say is that the story was prepared for the music-themed issue.
The story was written by me and drawn by the insanely talented Dave Taylor, who was kind enough to listen to my ramblings about the Wu-Tang, insert all the references I requested and even to adopt a “Shaolin-style” art approach. As smoky would say, “Enjoy!”

The story is presented in English here for the first time.
The Saga Begins is © Antonio Solinas (story) & Dave Taylor (art).

Comics: smoky man & Chris Weston

2008-08-27T05:33:00.000-07:00

[click on the above image to ENLARGE]

In 2007 I contributed with a one-page comics short story to Mono N.3. Mono is an Italian no profit comics anthology of one-page comics stories about a selected theme. All profits from Mono (printed by Italian publisher Tunué) support the distance adoption of a Peruvian child.

Theme of issue N. 3 was "water". Originally I thought to write a sci-fi thing but the amazing Chris Weston - who generously agreed to draw the page - asked for something with… piranhas (?). So I conceived a sort of Pulp Fiction-like homage with those cute fishes as guest stars. Enjoy!

The story is presented here for the first time in English.
Out of Water is © smoky man (story) & Chris Weston (art).
Lettering by Bruno Olivieri.

Melinda Gebbie interview [2]

2008-08-05T02:15:00.000-07:00

Interview conceived by smoky man & Antonio Solinas.
Conducted via phone by A. Solinas on 19th February 2008.
Originally printed in Italy on Blue magazine (N. 189, May 2008, Coniglio Editore) in the occasion of the Italian edition of Lost Girls published by Magic Press.
Presented here in English for the first time.
Lost Girls orginally published by Top Shelf.

In the photo by Alan Light: Catherine Yronwode (left), Carol Lay (middle), and Melinda Gebbie on the right, at the Women In Comics panel at the 1982 San Diego Comic Con (today called Comic-Con International).

Melinda Gebbie interview [1]

10. The style you used in Lost Girls, in a way, mimics certain artists of the era, while still retaining a certain individuality. What was the rational approach to the artistic process?

First of all, I thought the most reassuring and warm and inviting way to illustrate the book, was to make it seem like it was a book for adults. The pictures were soft, with positive memories and there weren’t any sharp edges, or shades. You know, you want people to feel a sense of reverie and safety. I conjured up feelings of several different children books that I liked, you know, with a kind of a soft illustration style and, of course, with The White Book, they were all pastiches of well-known artists, so that introduced different styles, thinking mostly, I guess, of Alice and Dorothy’s art styles, because they are the softest. Alice’s are oval, like a pool of water, you know, the memory part, and Dorothy’s are kind of an American vista, and Wendy’s are like church windows, kind of rigid and outlined in black, not exactly threatening, but just encased in something as if, her personality is being kind of revealed in it, you know, English rigidity. There definitely was a kind of thinking behind how these things were registered, how people would take them in.

11. I don’t want to investigate into your personal life, but obviously this book was instrumental in your relationship with Alan. When did you realise that the book needed a sort of intimacy related to living in the same place?
Actually, it wasn’t quite like that. What happened was, he had to work quite hard at any one time on seven or even eight other projects, while he was working on Lost Girls as well, so he had a very, very rigorous schedule, and I needed time to work on Lost Girls. I lived in a different place than he did, and we got together three times a week and if we hadn’t lived separately, that wouldn’t have worked, because we both needed time alone. Being an artist was quite frustrating because, I mean, he was able to do so much work during that period, many different things, and I was only able to do that book. But I had to be able to keep that particular reverie that I needed, so, if we had been living together, I don’t think that it would have worked like that. I mean, we got together several times a week and we were very close, but of the work, we lived apart, and I think that was a very important and functional thing: that was part of the reason why I think it was successful.

12. And then what happened?

You mean after the book?

13. Well, obviously you got married, so something must have happened…
We lived together now, once the book was over and… I’ll tell you, one of the very important things about this, as well, is that we couldn’t afford to have arguments. We couldn’t ever afford to have an argument, because if we argued it would affect our relationship with the book, because… it just does. It was a real work of romantic alchemy, and like many romances, it kind of required that we, like our characters, would not settle, but were anticipating seeing each other, looking forward to seeing each other and being together. It constantly remained a romance that we anticipated.

14. Sorry, I thought that you moved in before the book was finished, I didn’t mean to be rude…
No, no, I don’t mind talking about this because I think the way people work on something like this, is useful to know…
He is working on this marvellous book now, and I have a studio in the back of the house. It has all worked out exactly as it should have.

15. Do you want to talk about your workspace, now that you mentioned it?
Well, it’s great! I have got two little skylights in the front, I like to do a lot of big paintings. I have got my paintings from when I lived in San Francisco, of which a friend of mine said, very kindly: “I have seen the future of psychedelic painting”. I am having a wonderful time with them.
I am also intending to write a book about my life in San Francisco, because I knew a lot of amazing people, fantastic people. I really want to be able to offer that the public, so these people get to be remembered, because they were fantastic. Some of them are gone, you know, some of them are still around. Life changes, everything changes.

16. Speaking about conventions, Alan is famous for not going to conventions anymore. Do you think he will ever change his mind?
Well, he did a signing for Lost Girls a couple of weeks ago at a comic shop in London that we are fond of, Gosh Comics, which is a personal favourite. I don’t know if he will ever do anything again, though, in public.

17. I would like to leave you with one last question. Do you want to tell us what the future holds for you in terms of your work and comics work in particular? As I said, I am doing a painting and I will do a book. As for comics work, Alan has asked me to illustrate a poem that he has written about William Blake, the English visionary. That’s as close to any comics that I can tell you about. I am doing a couple of illustrations for his Magic Book. Other than that, I haven’t really thought too much about any more comics. Perhaps, when I get my painting done, and I finish my book, if something comes along… I am not adverse to it, I just haven’t really thought too much about it.

18. I suppose you are going to be busy for quite a long time, with both the book and the painting…
Yeah, maybe (laughs).

Melinda Gebbie interview [1]

2008-08-04T05:07:00.000-07:00

Interview conceived by smoky man & Antonio Solinas.

Conducted via phone by A. Solinas on 19th February 2008.
Originally printed in Italy on Blue magazine (N. 189, May 2008, Coniglio Editore) in the occasion of the Italian edition of Lost Girls published by Magic Press.
Presented here in English for the first time.
Lost Girls orginally published by Top Shelf.

1. Do you want to introduce yourself to Italian readers that probably know your work for Cobweb, but have not been exposed to your underground period?
I started in the underground scene a long time ago: that was when Robert Crumb was still selling his comics on the street, and the early issues of Zap! came out. I came in through Wimmens’ Comix, which was just about the only comic book that women were doing at the time. There had got to be something like maybe up to forty men doing comics at some point, and there were still only ten women, but I think at the very beginning it was pretty much the Zap! crew and no women. This was in the seventies, you know. That was a very fun period, I mean probably a lot of our comics didn’t get very far, but some of them got to England. My solo comic, which was called Fresca Zizis, came to England and got involved in a bust through Knockabout Comix, so I had to defend it to Richard Branson’s dad (the guy who owns Virgin Records), who was the judge in that trial. My comic was being sold at his comic book shop and record store just down the street from that: that was my introduction to England. Even then, our comics were not all that well known in England, even, so I am not surprised they wouldn’t be very well known in your neck of the wood.

2. What kind of approach did you bring to the table when you were working in what was essentially a men’s world?
My particular sort of approach was that I didn’t see why art should be immediately recognisable as being done by a woman. I thought that what women generally should do is to be gutsy about what we wanted to say as (much as) men were about what the want to say, to be un-self conscious, to be not so much feminine in our work as self-revealing, because that’s the only way you really give your audience something that they can use. The eternally feminine, which is still seen a lot, you know, the very pretty little drawings, very dainty and tasteful: girls are not supposed to draw cars, they are not supposed to be able to draw motorcycles, and they are not supposed to draw rough, tough sex scenes: basically, they are not supposed to have that much of a grasp on really what is going on in human psychology or in society. I got accused, to my own great delight, of drawing like a guy, and someone from a local newspaper in San Francisco said: “Oh, this is shocking! This is disgusting, this is really sexually explicit and violent! Who is this terrible man?”. (laughs) But it wasn’t done by man, it was done by a woman. I got compared to… do you know who S. Clay Wilson is?

3. I really don’t know if he has been published in Italy, to be honest. Even the most famous underground comic artists might be obscure, apart from Crumb and Shelton…
That’s interesting. I don’t know much about the comic publishing scene in Italy at all…

4. When you were talking about being an artist rather than a female artist, how do you feel about the manga influence, with women reverting to drawing pretty pictures?
Well, I have met a woman named Jill Thompson, who I think is doing quite well in that kind of thing, and she kind of explained to me a little bit of the visual vocabulary involved with it, and she said that there are very strict rules to it, and there are always supposed to be little tea parties and things like that. I was quite impressed because I have been to Japan and I picked up a lot of manga books: I love Japanese stuff, I am very interested in it. I am interested in someone following rigorously a sort of situation and doing well in it. It is quite interesting. It seems so back and forth, I mean: I was just thinking I sort of made my name in comics for having kind of an aggressive and sexually tough art style, but with Lost Girls I actually turned back around and use the softnesses and the delicacies of looking at things through a woman’s point of view, to actually be able to achieve the visual storytelling in Lost Girls. I think if another man had done it, it wouldn’t have worked, because that was the whole problem of pornography for women, and it was women who I was trying to reach. Instead of trying to be hard as men, I started to try to appeal to women, because I really wanted Lost Girls to be a book that women would like. I think for a long time the idea of pornography itself has been horrible for women, and they have not responded to it at all in the past. In 2006, when Lost Girls debuted in San Diego, there were just so many women buying it as men: a lot of them were young, and quite a few were middle aged; there were all different ages. One young girl… well, she wasn’t too young to buy it (laughs) (we had to be very strict about that) she had a very cute little short hairstyle, really cute, she came up to me and she said: “I can’t wait to read this, I’m going to take it home”. She came back the next day, and she said: “I stayed up all night reading it”. She had tears in her eyes, and she said: “I just wanted to thank you for doing this”. We held each other’s hand and I said: “You don’t know how much this means to me, that it’s affected you so much”. This is the whole reason that I did this.

5. You must have realised since the early stages that you had something that would have a massive impact on many people. How frustrating was it for you to wait for so long to see Lost Girls finished?
It was very, very frustrating. I think the reason it took so long to do it… I worked it out just out of curiosity, and it turns out I spent about three days per panel on the book, which sounds reasonable, but this sort of distillation of trying to come up with the most positive and blissful and communicative feeling about sexuality in my mind, so that the colours were wonderful, and all the objects, the architecture, the light, the shadow, I wanted everything to be as blissful as people’s most beautiful memories of sex. And it was inventing this new language, because I have never seen any sex art done like that, not even single-panel pages. I have seen things that are charming, I have seen things that are amazing, like Hans Bellmer, I have seen things that are articulate, but not blissful. It was a matter of coming up with a new language, and there hadn’t been one before. When I was a little girl, I thought: “When I grow up, there must be a book about sex, that tells you everything you want to know about it, and it’s really beautiful and you learn everything you need to know, and then you can be confident and you don’t have to worry about this strange thing that is coming up, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to think, not knowing what to feel”. And, of course, there was no book like that, but I think, actually, Lost Girls is that book.
I guess I have a sort of evangelistic attitude about it. I really hope it will help heal, I really hope it will help people to have confidence, hope it will just make them feel better about the fact that they are sexual, since we all are, whether we pretend we are or not.

6. We discussed with Alan about how much Lost Girls and the relationship you have helped him to grow both as a man and as a writer. What about you? How much did this book change you, in a way?
It’s amazing because the after effects of the book, not the immediate ones (were that) it’s done for me what I hoped it would do for other people, because I had my own bad experiences, unhappy experiences in that realm, like everyone has, and I found that the book actually addresses these things, the fact that I can do this book is kind of being an astronaut, you’re going out into a space you have never been in before, and you actually come back with something you yourself really needed. It’s been great. I mean, first of all, it’s really been important that the response has been so positive, because people seem to feel that they really needed it. I needed it as well, and it’s helped me as well. It was just a matter of getting through this really long process: we had trouble getting it printed, and when I took it down to London, luckily the printing process was much more sophisticated than they were when we first started the book, because a lot of it is colour pencil, it’s very delicate, and printing has caught up with the processes, because it couldn’t have really been presented adequately before.
The printers that I went to, the guy that was supposed to help me and do the book specifically, I think he thought I was kind of odd and we didn’t get along, and it was very frustrating for me, because I really needed him to be enthusiastic and to be positive about it, and for us to have a kind of little friendship over it. But luckily I found a friend in one of the other men at work there and so it went all right, everything was fine. It just took what seemed a very long time…

7. I know, I remember buying the first two issues of the Kitchen Sink edition…
They were done in colour Xerox, we couldn’t even get printers for them!

8. It must have been tough for you in the beginning, to get used to Alan’s way of working. Alan said you two had to discover the proper way to collaborate, with a thumbnail method to substitute his detailed scripts…
I am probably the only artist to have a few pages of Alan’s thumbnails! (laughs)
They were much better for me, because I could see exactly where he wanted this table, or that shoe, that window, or that teapot. I would read the script, because it was so beautiful and so detailed, but I’d get a bit lost. I would draw something, but actually it wasn’t quite correct, I would put something in a wrong place, and so when he did the thumbnails I would know exactly where everything was supposed to go, and so when I chose the three women, of course, we got together over them constantly, so we were much more in sync. The other thing is that, because we were so close, we could have really long conversations about the sexuality itself, the history of it, what it means to people, how it affects people in literature or pornography, why it is a defective medium, why it didn’t work, you know, all those thing. We got so much conversation, that these others artists don’t get the advantage of it, really.

9. Did you have any disagreement about the way to do certain things in Lost Girls?
No. There wouldn’t be disagreement; there would be little things, again, visual. In some of the things, where he would suggest a scene that would possibly be a bit more obviously sexual, I would change sometimes something, so there would be a bit more use to looking at someone’s hand, or their facial expression, and then work out the other things, because one of the important things about Lost Girls is sexual anticipation and desire, and of course he (Alan) very skilfully worked out all three books so that they start out at a certain level and then reach a gradual higher and higher peak, so it isn’t always on a really high-pitched level, but little things that you do with the drawings, which just sort of talk about the body language of desire, what people do with their hands when they sit with each other, or their longing looks or the colour of the shadows, or something like that.
No, we never actually did disagree. I did do two pages, which he felt were not very effective in getting the story across, and in the end I actually redrew them because I realised they weren’t getting the story across. They were very complicated. It was the shadow sequence, where Wendy and Harold are in the bedroom, and she is saying for him, and he hands her a little roll of something, and it’s just a little ordinary activity, but the shadows behind them are having sex, and I hadn’t really drawn it explicitly, it didn’t make sense visually when I drew it. That was the only thing I redrew: we discussed everything so that we agreed on stuff, we made sure that we agreed on everything, because it was very important that we had a sort of positive and open feeling about it, because the alchemy between us was going to be part of the alchemy that other people were going to read.

Melinda Gebbie interview [2]

Alan Moore interview [5]

2008-08-01T00:30:00.000-07:00

Interview conceived by smoky man & Antonio Solinas.
Conducted via phone by A. Solinas on 19th February 2008.
Originally printed in Italy on Scuola di Fumetto (N. 60, May 2008, Coniglio Editore) and Blue magazine (N. 189, May 2008, Coniglio Editore) in the occasion of the Italian edition of Lost Girls published by Magic Press.
Presented here in English for the first time.
Lost Girls orginally published by Top Shelf.

Alan Moore interview [1]
Alan Moore interview [2]
Alan Moore interview [3]
Alan Moore interview [4]

20. Do you know the work of erotic Italian comic artists at all?
Yes, I mean, I am familiar with a number of the erotic comic artists. For some of them, I think their drawing ability is fine, and there have been a couple of works that I thought were particularly ok. Generally, it’s not to my taste. That’s not to say there is anything wrong with it, simply the majority of it is not to my taste. Even with, say, somebody like Milo Manara, who I recognise as an incredibly good draughtsman (I mean, he did some work with Hugo Pratt, the Indian Summer, that was I think some of the best stuff of his that I have seen, possibly because of the pairing with Pratt), when I have seen some of Manara’s solo erotic work, the draughtsmanship is perfect, but it’s not to my taste. The women seem to be pretty much the same woman with different wigs on, there doesn’t seem to be any individuation of the female characters and they do seem to be largely sex mannequins, which is fine if that is the kind of material that you like, but I never really responded to it. In Guido Crepax, I can see the stylishness of his work, but his women have a starved quality, they look like concentration camp images a lot of the time, which I recognise it’s just his style, but it tends to make the work appear morbid, in my eyes.
Like I said, while I can admire the technical excellence of a lot of these people, the actual material produced is very seldom to my taste, which is not in any way meant as a criticism, but simply to say that I suppose you can’t please all the people all the time.
Robert Crumb is someone I have got unreserved admiration for, although I don’t’ know if he is classed along with the glamour artists. I don’t know if he would be classed in quite the same category, but his stuff I can engage with: it seems human to me, whereas in a lot the more glamour-oriented artists there’s a coldness, a certain inhumanity, or at least in my perception. Not to take anything on their abilities, it’s just something about the atmosphere of the scripts or the presentation of the people in them. It kind of leaves me a bit cold.

21. It is a known fact you were dissatisfied with the way people handled superheroes after Watchmen. Do you ever get worried that Lost Girls could suffer the same fate?
We did actually talk about this and, in the early days, we occasionally said: “Wouldn’t it be nice if, after Lost Girls, there was a wave of people liberating their sexual imagination and seeing all sorts of new ways that they could tell sexual stories but with a different sense”, but I think that we both… I mean, I am probably more cynical of the pair of us and with regards to that, in light of my experience with Watchmen, I did say it would probably more likely that we might get a number of books that were coarse imitations of Lost Girls.
But actually, as with Watchmen, I have come to the conclusion that, whatever kind of books come in the wake of work, they don’t diminish it in any way. It’s unfortunate, but slavish imitation seems to be people’s first response: it’s kind of inevitable, I can’t say that it upsets me a great deal. And yes, I recognise that is a very likely possibility, but I don’t think that that will in any way alter the way that I feel about Lost Girls.

22. I hope not. It would take quite something to tarnish that…
Definitely, it would have to be pretty bad.

23. In a recent interview, you said: “Comics is now, I’m afraid, just going to have to be a corner of my working landscape. They’re very dear and it’s a fondly regarded corner, but just one corner of the landscape all the same.” What can we expect from you then?
Well, at the moment, among the things I have in the pipeline there is some comics work. That is largely restricted to Book 3 of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, which Kevin O’Neill is well into the first chapter of it, the first issue, because it will be told in three 73-page volumes, set in 1910, 1968 and 2008, respectively. And he’s getting around halfway through the first volume: that would be most of my comics work. I am doing the Bumper Book of Magic with Steve Moore and a galaxy of wonderful artists. That includes a little bit of comics work but not very much: it includes text, stories, articles and games, puzzles, but very little comics script material. There is a sort of running Kevin O’Neill one-page humorous comic strip that recurs throughout the book, but I think that’s about the only comic strip material in it.
The main thing that I am working on is my second novel, which is called Jerusalem and which is entirely about the area in which I grew up, a small area of Northampton named The Boroughs, which is the oldest area of the town, and today is the most deprived and troubled area of the town, but which has got a lot of absolutely fantastic history that has occurred there, and some marvellous figures that passed through that landscape. I am trying to write a wonderful fantasy story that will encompass part of the history of that area, part of my family’s history, will include ruminations upon the art of life, and upon religion…

24. And it’s going to be a massive book as well, I heard!
It’s going to be probably around about three quarters of a million words: that sounds like a couple of thousand pages to me. It will probably end up as three books in a slipcase or something, but it’s meant to be a single book, it’s definitely not three volumes, it’s not like Lord of the Rings… It will probably end up as three books that have to be read together: I doubt that we would be able to get it in one book, too big to pick up. Jerusalem is taking most of my energies at the moment. I am working on some songs with a local musician, a guy called Joe Brown, who’s very talented, very young and full of enthusiasm, and we are having a lot of fun just writing some songs.
There’s a lot of different things that I might be messing around with in the future, and comics almost certainly will be part of that, but it won’t be as prevalent as it has been in the past: I am having a great deal of fun trying all these new things.

Alan Moore interview [4]

2008-07-31T02:43:00.000-07:00

Alan Moore interview [1]
Alan Moore interview [2]
Alan Moore interview [3]

13. Obviously [with Lost Girls] you were dealing with a sort of touchy subject, as you said, pornography. Given the vast exposure that your work would receive, was there any conscious attempt to be controversial?

Not at all. You have to remember we started this in 1989, when it was a very different social and sexual climate. Now, back then, for one thing there wasn’t the kind of paedophile panic that has seized Europe and America so brightly in the last decade. Obviously, we were aware of these issues, but there was not the wave of internet paedophilia, which is largely what has caused the sort of semi-hysterical response in some parts of the tabloids press. It was a different time. And also, we weren’t under a George W. Bush presidency: there wasn’t the same leeway given to the religious right, who are notoriously antipathetic to sexual expression or pornography or anything like that. So, we were aware that if we were going to follow this material to what seemed to be its logical end, and if we were going to be honest in our presentation of the work, if we were going to approach it seriously, that of course we would possibly offend various people. That was possible. For example, back when we started, probably the biggest voices raised against pornography were from the feminist camp. Now, we were reading feminine critiques of pornography, because at least they were rational, even if we didn’t agree with them. And we were trying to design Lost Girls to answer a lot of the questions raised by feminism.

14. Therefore, there was an effort to raise a debate about what is really pornographic and obscene…
Absolutely. I mean, we couldn’t really take on the Christian anti-pornographic debate, because that is not rational. With the greatest of respect to Christians and the respect to anybody to believe in what they want to believe in, you can’t base a rational argument upon your supposition of what the creator of the universe likes or doesn’t like: that is simply not rational. But the feminist argument was rational, and so we thought about that very deeply and we tried to raise the level of the debate by answering some of those feminist critiques, by making sure that the women that we had as the main characters, they weren’t merely facets, and that the book was not written from a strict perspective of heterosexual men, but it was written for women as much as it was written for men, and it was written for homosexuals as much as it was written for heterosexuals. We were trying our best to make this as beautiful and as bulletproof as possible. We wanted something that was not rigorously politically correct, still a genuine work of pornography (or erotica), but we wanted something that would be just so beautifully drawn and so beautifully written that it would transcend all of the obvious questions about the subject matter. When it came a little closer to the time of the book being published, when we got the work finished and we realised that it would be coming out in 2006 (at least in America), then we started to have a little bit more of an idea as to what sort of reaction we might expect. It was coming out under a George Bush administration, it was coming out in a time which might be seen as particularly risky for a book like Lost Girls: we thought that we might be getting a sort of hysterical tabloid reaction to it, although that has proven not to be the case.

15. Did you devise any strategy to respond to these possible critiques?
We had been through all of the possible questions that we could be asked quite a lot over the past eighteen years, and I think that we could have defended Lost Girls as well as anybody. There was nothing in Lost Girls that I would not have been happy to defend to my last breath. I thought that our motives in doing Lost Girls were unimpeachable, but I was still prepared for encountering people who might not agree with that assessment. Indeed, there were some quite worrying issues: for example, there was the fact that the laws in Canada specifically forbid any drawings of imaginary underage people having sex and class them as child pornography, so we thought that we might very well have problems with Canada. So, what Chris Staros, our publisher did, was to compile a dossier with quotes from prestigious American and British journals talking about Lost Girls, there was a letter of intent from me and Melinda, where we explained our motives, and we got back a wonderful letter from the Canadian Customs Authority, basically saying that, even though there were scenes that were tantamount to bestiality or incest, this could in no way be consider obscene, and even though it did appear that there were underage people taking part in some of the sex scenes, this could in no way be considered as child pornography, and that it was a work of great social and artistic benefit. This is pretty much what the British Customs said: I mean, we didn’t know how they would respond to it, but eventually they gave us the all clear to import it, saying that on artistic grounds, it is seen as a work of art, and therefore exempt from the debate upon pornography. Even in fundamentalist America there have been no copies of Lost Girls seized, even though most much more innocuous books have been seized from shops, especially in the Southern States. But no seizures of Lost Girls. I think that in some ways it’s surprising, but I wonder if in some ways it’s a response to the fact that we called this pornography from the start. I think that the surprising lack of a hostile response that we received for Lost Girls may have something to do with the fact that from the very beginning we have insisted upon calling this a work of pornography. I think if we had come out and said: “This is a work of art”, then the instinctive reflex reaction from its critics would have been to have said: “No, this is a work of pornography”. It seems that by coming out and saying: “This is a work of pornography”, then, most of the people who have read it, who would potentially have been our critics, have been wrong-footed in some way so that they had to respond: “No, this is a work of art” (laughs). I am not entirely sure why this has happened, but I am very glad it has, and I think that also me and Melinda were both pleased that, although we couldn’t have known that (the book) would be coming out in 2006, it has done. Because if it had come out say seven or eight years earlier, then it would have come out during a Clinton administration, which was significantly more liberal than the Bush administration, and the world, although by no means free of war, was a lot less war-toned than this at present. And one of the most important things in Lost Girls, as well as its pro-sexuality message, is its anti-war message.

16. Is this the reason why you chose to set the book in 1913?
Well, we originally chose to set it then because those were the dates suggested by the three characters. When we decided upon those three characters, we tried to work out imaginary chronologies for them, based upon the publication dates of the three books, and we realised that if we wanted to tell a story in which Dorothy was not too young nor Alice too old, then we were pretty much restricted to this kind of window around about the 1913 to 1915 period. And that immediately suggested all sorts of things, the First World War, the debut of the Rite of Spring at the Paris Opera, the resulting riot. It seemed such a wonderful backdrop against which to set our story, because that particular period was the juncture of lots of different things: in terms of politics, the world was changing, and it would never be exactly the same again, but the world of art was also reaching a point of change and crisis. You have got the remnants of a more romantic art nouveau sensibility, but you have also got the birth of modernism, at around the same time.

17. Did you try to convey this, in terms of visual imagery, into the book?
That’s right. You know, it provided a sort of stark contrast, everything to the way the characters were dressed, and all of this made a beautiful and stark setting, a backdrop against which to place our fairly delicate emotional sexual fantasies that were going on in the foreground. And yes, we were glad it had come out, somehow, in 2006, because, if it (the book) had come out eight years earlier, in a less war-toned, a more liberal American administration, it might not have been so relevant. The contrast that it struck might not have seemed quite so stark or so pointed. So, I think we are both very glad that it’s coming out when it is, because I think that if ever the world actually needed a book like this, it’s probably around now, that it seems that this rather simplistic hippie message, perhaps, of “make love, not war”, it seems that we need that restating, every once in a while, and I think that the current period that we are moving through, is one of those periods in which that message does need to be restated, because we appear to have forgotten it.

18. How many times have you been asked if you were trying to redeem the pornographic genre? Do you find it annoying? No, because it’s a straightforward question, and of course, yes, I was trying to redeem the genre. I mean, one of the things that I like that I have noticed a pattern in the way that I tend to work is, I look for areas of culture that are neglected, and which I feel have got potentially a great deal of importance. That would apply to comic books, back when I entered the field, it would apply to pornography, and it would apply to magic. All of these are areas that are of potentially tremendous importance and tremendous value, but they are completely neglected. I find that kind of territory very fertile, and it’s something that I enjoy doing, especially if nobody has done it before, which was very definitely the case with Lost Girls. I mean, not just in comics, but actually in the much broader world of erotic art and writing, there has never been anything of the scale and ambition of Lost Girls, even if it took us a long time to do it.
I am not saying there never will another work (like that), but you’re going to at least have to wait for another eighteen years before it appears.

19. In this respect, although there is no doubt about the high value of Lost Girls, did you get exposed to “low-class pornography”? How did you re-work that kind of material and how do you relate to the porn industry?
When I did Watchmen, yes, I was bringing in values from outside comics, but Watchmen was a result of reading an awful lot of crappy American superhero comics. I had to absorb all of the tropes and the traditions of the genre in order to be able to write it properly, or to write a newer version of it. That was true of pornography. I’ve not got really any time for most modern pornography. My interest in pornography does tend to evaporate around about the Edwardian period. I mean, there are some exceptions to that: there are some of the Olympia Press novels and things of the 50’s that were very, very good, and the early 60’s, but I tend to find that, to some degree, the Golden Age of pornography was probably the Victorian-Edwardian era. That’s not to say that the stuff was without problems, or either that it was terribly good, but there were some good things about it. In my by no means extensive readings, I kind of isolated a few things that I thought were good about that Victorian-Edwardian pornography, and I tried to import them into Lost Girls. I think it was the same, to some degree, for Melinda with the artwork. She was looking at illustrators and artists that she actually found some resonance in, in that kind of material, and she was kind of trying to bring those values to the artwork. You got to be aware of what the other material is, out there, although really that’s not to say that we have ever bothered with looking at any pornographic movies or pornographic internet sites or anything like that (laughs). I mean, we don’t have an internet connection, and that stuff doesn’t really interest us. We are print media people, and we wanted this to be something that reflected the values of literature and art in a period when those things still had high standards and values.

Alan Moore interview [5]

Alan Moore interview [3]

2008-07-30T02:58:00.000-07:00

9. Would you be willing to try and do something of that sort again, or do you think [Lost Girls] will be unique to the kind of relationship you have with Melinda?
No, I don’t think that, having done Lost Girls, I’d ever want to do anything like that again. I mean, in terms of what I am, I think that I’ve kind of come back to my initial position, where I am including sexuality as another facet of whatever story I am actually working upon. So, in the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, especially in the upcoming issues, there is a much more frank approach to sexuality. It’s just included among all of the other elements of the story. I don’t think that I’d ever particularly want to actually do another thing specifically about sex or sexuality. I think that really, in the eighteen years that it’s taken us to do Lost Girls, we pretty much said everything that we actually wanted to say.

10. I was talking, in more general terms, about the way you collaborated with another artist…
Well, I mean, one of the things that made it possible to collaborate like this is (the fact that) Melinda is the first artist I collaborated with who’s actually been living here in Northampton. So that meant that I could do the thumbnails, because I should explain that my thumbnails are fairly inscrutable (I mean, I make no claims to my artistic abilities), and with Melinda I could sort of sit down with her and I could show her this page of basically scribbles, and I could say: “Yes, this kind of thing that you might have mistaken for a deformed weather balloon, bobbing at the bottom of this panel, that is actually one of the characters heads, and that is looking away from us”. So I could talk her through the thumbnails, and she could see what I was trying to convey. Now, that’s not been the case with any of the other collaborators, and it takes me so long, to actually draw something so that people can see what it’s actually meant to be (laughs) that it’s much quicker and easier for me to type up a page of script describing the thing, and I can be much more exact in my description than I can be with my actual drawn artwork.
I’m not ruling it out altogether, but I think it’s very unlikely that I shall ever collaborate with somebody in quite the way, quite as intensely as me and Melinda have collaborated upon Lost Girls.
You tend to find that each book that you do, it tends to suggest its own way of working, and our working methods upon Lost Girls just simply grew out of the work itself and demands upon the pair of us, and we eventually came up with something that we were really happy with and which suited us and then worked perfectly, you know, but I think it’s very unlikely that that would happen again, simply because I don’t really trust my drawing abilities enough to simply send somebody a bunch of photocopies of my scribbles and expect them to make anything out of it.
With Kevin (O’Neill) on the League, on this third book I am back to writing incredibly long scripts with incredibly detailed descriptions.

11. If the result is what you normally get, I suppose you can be happy with that…
That’s right. I mean, different artists, different jobs, require different means of working, and I don’t think that Kevin’s work would be greatly improved, or I don’t think that the League would be improved with my pencil sketches. It’s just a different work and I don’t think it would work as well as it did so obviously work on Lost Girls.

12. I was interested because there is some sort of myth of you been an absolute controller of the comics you write, of which you must be aware of…
I certainly do, although in my actual relationship with the artist, it’s a lot more easygoing than that (laughs). I mean, all the stuff that is there in the script is meant as a suggestion, and Kevin said that most of the times the way the panels are described is probably about the best kind of shot, but sometimes, he’ll think of a better one, because he’s an artist, and he’s got better visual sensibilities than me. And just like there was some of my pencil layouts and drawing for Lost Girls, where Melinda would modify them because she could see an easier or better way of doing them.
You’ve always got to leave, especially when it comes to the visuals, the artist room to do whatever they want, to a certain degree. All you’ve got to do is to provide them the structure that they can then hang whatever kind of flesh they want upon. The plot, the rest of it, is a sort of skeleton, and if you are certain of that, if you are certain it’s a secure skeleton, then you can be as fabulous in your decoration of the flesh of the piece as you want, really.

Alan Moore interview [4]
Alan Moore interview [5]

Alan Moore interview [2]

2008-07-28T23:24:00.000-07:00

Lost Girls orginally published by Top Shelf.

Alan Moore interview [1]

6. Obviously Lost Girls had some implications on your personal life as well, so that’s a bonus, I guess…

In some ways, our lives and the work that we were doing together obviously became intertwined. I don’t think that we could have done this work together if we hadn’t been in a serious relationship together. And given that that is what has happened, I think that the two things have been incredibly beneficial to each other. I think that because when it came to working on Lost Girls, right from the very start, we would have to be frank in all of our thoughts and ideas which, in a lot of relationships, people can reach the end of their relationship without ever having discussed anything so intimate or personal, so that was the point on which me and Melinda’s relationship started, and that’s been to the benefit of our relationship, certainly. And on the other hand, I think that the fact that we are in this relationship has been of a tremendous importance to Lost Girls because in a lot of pornography, no matter how well written or drawn it may be, there is a certain coldness to it. There is a certain emotional distance from the words or images. It very often seems to be acted out by emotionless puppets and that is one of the things in pornography that I think we both found alienating, and so I think that what actually happened with Lost Girls was it’s got an awful lot of warmth, an awful lot of compassion, it’s very inclusive of a broad range of ordinary human activities and feelings and emotions, and it’s probably the fact that me and Melinda are in a warm and emotional relationship that has given Lost Girls an awful lot of its emotional depth, so I think the two things have a benefit to each other, really.

7. In the introduction for a recent edition of Writing for Comics that just came out in Italy, Rick Veitch talks about how your ideas are basically fully formed since the beginning. I suppose in this case, although there a strong core idea, we could say that the growth of the comic went hand in hand with a growth both as a partner and as a man.

Yes, that is true. Although what Rick was saying about my ideas been pretty fully formulated is true to a great extent (I mean certainly I knew roughly what was in all 30 episodes of Lost Girls before I started it, just like I kind of had a rough idea of how me and Melinda’s relationship would go), but at the same time with both of them, if you knew everything about it, wouldn’t be a lot of fun. So, even though we got the basic plot structure of Lost Girls worked out, there were still things that we were revising, chapter by chapter, page by page: the details, the way that the story was told, in Melinda’s case the visual approach to each story. These were details that we didn’t have written in stone right from the beginning. These were things that we left to be discovered along the way, just because that would be a more enjoyable experience. I mean, yes I do like to have my ideas pretty much sorted out right from the word go, so that I know where the thing is going to end, and roughly how it’s going to get from the beginning to the end, but I prefer to at least leave some surprises to myself.

8. Was this a pretty unique form of collaboration, in this respect?

Well, I think that certainly Lost Girls, amongst all of my collaborations, is completely unique. For one thing, from very early on, we came to a kind of a problem in our working methods. Melinda had been a writer/artist, she had been writing and drawing her own scripts: now, I had been used to working with comic book artists from the mainstream who were used to receiving scripts (even if they weren’t used to receiving scripts quite as long as detailed as mine are), but Melinda had never worked from a script, up to that point. So, when I was giving her these huge thick documents that would be a few dozen pages just for an eight-page chapter, I think it was very difficult for her to actually visualise from my panel description, the kind of scenes that I had in mind, so very early on, perhaps half a dozen chapters, where we had done it in script form (and, you know, it had worked fine), we thought that we could improve the process if I was to actually do thumbnail sketches (quite detailed thumbnail sketches), and then they would be given to Melinda, who would do the completed artwork, and would be of course adding an immense amount to my thumbnail sketches. And then, at the end of this, I would look at the completed artwork and there was a lot of room for serendipity. If Melinda had put a certain expression upon one of the characters faces, or had included some atmospheric touch, then I could allow that to colour the writing, so it was a much more complete and seamless collaboration than many of my previous ones. I mean, Melinda was contributing to the writing, in the sense that all of the scenes that we did were discussed thoroughly, and I was trying to take as many of Melinda’s ideas and her likes and dislikes on board as possible, and trying to tailor each chapter to Melinda’s skills, so the very writing was done with an awful lot of input (either direct or indirect) by Melinda, and the art had got an awful lot of input, in the way of my thumbnail sketches, from me. We were both involved in each other’s part of the process, if you like. It was a very close collaboration, as I say, it’s probably the closest collaboration that I have done, in terms of it kind resembling the work of one individual.

Alan Moore interview [3]
Alan Moore interview [4]
Alan Moore interview [5]

Alan Moore interview [1]

2008-07-25T05:48:00.000-07:00

1. The first question I would like to ask you is about the genesis of Lost Girls. Do you want to elaborate on that?
I suppose, from my point of view, I have always been interested in the idea of the sexuality of the characters, ever since I started working in mainstream comics, because it just seemed to me a necessary part of characterisation.
Back then, I would try to work in, if it was appropriate, some kind of sex scene into the comic that I was writing because I felt that that made for a more rounded character. But it was a bit of an encumbrance, because I was mostly writing about monsters or superheroes. I mean, I think we did some very good work, regarding the sexuality of these characters, but I always had a feeling that I would have liked to do something more extensive, something which was entirely based on sexuality and the sexual imagination.

2. Was this based on the fact that, for example, the sexual subtext in Watchmen was dumbed down by the people that followed in your path?
I think that is true to a certain degree. I mean, for example, when we were doing the sexual issues of Swamp Thing, we were trying to find new ways of expressing this kind of ideas, but when it was applied to superheroes, in the hands of a lot of people that followed me, it seemed to degenerate quite quickly to a sort of a smutty joke, essentially a smutty joke, which was never anything that I have been that interested in.
So I was very keen to do something about sex that hadn’t anything to do with superheroes or licensed characters of that nature, and I have been trying to think of some way to actually do this. But it was easier said than done. Every idea that I came up with, when I actually thought it through, it wasn’t really any different from the pornography that I saw around me, and which I found dull or distressing.
It was very difficult to actually think of a form of pornography that wouldn’t fall into the same crap. Partly that was because I had been programmed, I suppose, by my work in the industry, to think in terms of collaborating with another man, simply because most of the people (if not all of them) I had collaborated with, up to that point, had all been men, just because of the sexual imbalance of the comics industry.
But I had been approached, some time in 1989, by some people that were doing an erotic anthology, that was going to be called Lost Horizons of the Shangri-La. The magazine never came out, but initially they contacted me and asked me if I would like to do an eight-page story. When I was thinking about someone to collaborate with, I suddenly thought of Melinda Gebbie, because I’d admired Melinda’s work for a long time. I had been following her work in the underground: I had written an article over here, in which I had singled out Melinda for praise because I certainly thought that she was one of the best artists in the underground. I didn’t think there was any need to qualify that by even saying “best FEMALE artist”: she was one the best artists, full stop. I didn’t realise at that point, that Melinda had also been approached by the same anthology title, but a friend of ours, Neil Gaiman, the writer, knew Melinda. He had sort of seen her recently, and he offered to put us in contact. So when we first hooked up, we expressed an interest in working with each other, and Melinda would come up here at the weekends, and we spent two or three weeks just trying to work out what we did and didn’t want to to. It was still very difficult coming up with an idea that completely suited both of us, but we spent a lot of time talking about what we didn’t like in current erotica or pornography and, at some point during all this, we were throwing ideas back and forth: I remembered a not entirely satisfactory idea that I had at some time in the past, which was that it might be possible to do a sexually decoded narrative based upon J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan. This was for completely simplistic reasons, and it was purely because in Peter Pan there are a lot of flying scenes, and because Sigmund Freud had said that dreams of flying are an expression of sexuality. As I said, it wasn’t a particularly brilliant or insightful idea, but I just threw it out there to see if it had anything about it. Melinda countered by saying she’d always enjoyed doing strips that had three women characters in a dynamic relationship: there was a strip that she had done called My Three Swans that would adopt a relationship between three strong women characters. Somehow, the two ideas crossbred. I started to think: “Well, if one is Wendy from Peter Pan - which was one of the characters that Melinda wanted to tell the story about - who would be the other two?”, and obviously the names Alice from Alice in Wonderland and Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz came to mind immediately.
It was right there in that moment, when we said those three names in conjunction with each other, that we realised what a fantastic and appropriate idea it was. We had almost come up with it by accident, but there were such a lot of possibilities that seemed to explode out of that conjunction of those three very famous children’s book characters, and that was the point at which Lost Girls began to take shape at an alarming rate. As soon as we had those names together, all the other details kind of grew out of that really.

3. Throughout your career, you have always seemed to be inclined to play with archetypes. In the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, as well as Watchmen and From Hell, you have picked up archetypal characters and given them a lot more depth than other people that used those archetypes before. Where does this attitude stem from and is it possible to draw a comparison between Lost Girls and these other works, in a way?
I suppose it is possible to draw similarities in the sense that I, in whichever area I am working on, I try to work as fully as possible with the kind of furniture of that genre or that character. I try to invest as much of myself as I can in any given character, and I suppose that these archetypal characters reflect really, just the way that I see characters. I tend to think that most characters, in some way, even the interchangeable ones, if they are treated right, can become almost archetypal. I mean, you’ve only got to look at Charles Dickens, where some of the most memorable characters that have become archetypes are the lowliest seeming characters, his Huriah Heep, his Fagin, people like that. I think that it is what you invest into these characters that makes them archetypal and I think that, if anything, the fact that this kind of approach to characters does tends to turn up a lot in my work is because that is how I see or how I try to see all the fictional characters that I deal with, even the worst ones. If I can do something to make them a bit more memorable or archetypal I will do.
With Lost Girls, there was a tremendous fascination because of not just the fact that we had these three archetypal children’s book characters, I suppose, but the fact that we had them in an erotic story that imagined a projected later life for all of those characters. It’s not just the characters themselves, it’s the context that you present them in. I mean, as with Watchmen, it wasn’t just the superheroes, it was the fact that we presented them in the context of this pseudo-realistic world that had a political dimension, as well as other dimensions that people didn’t really expect in a comic book of that period. With Lost Girls, it was trying to take history characters, who we associate with apparently innocent children’s fiction, and it was thinking that, since we all read those stories when we were children, or had them read to us, or were aware of them in some way, whatever gender we are, in a sense, we were identifying with those child protagonists, back then. In a sense, they were us, and, before Lost Girls, they remained at the age they were when those stories were told, whereas we grew up. We grew up, our bodies changed, our minds changed, our emotions changed…

4. Our desires changed, I suppose…
That was it. We suddenly became less innocent and pink-cheeked than those characters we identified so much with when we were children, and yet, I think that even in books that purely have children as their main characters, there is a kind of an implication that these characters will grow up. I mean, indeed, in Peter Pan (alone among those three books), by the end of the book, Wendy is grown up and she has a child of hers, which kind of implies that she’s had sex, at some point (laugh), in the normal run of things. So it didn’t seem to us illegitimate to actually project these famous child characters forward into a kind of an imagined adulthood and, in some ways, we thought that that would have a lot of resonance because, to a degree, even if we are telling it in a phantasmagoric form, we are telling the story of our condition, we are telling the story of what it was like for all of us when, at whatever young and tender age (or not so young and tender age) it was, that we entered into our sexuality and we found it to be a strange and puzzling world, every bit as bewildering and illogical as Oz, or Neverland or Wonderland. And it was when we hip upon those three characters that we realised that we got a perfect metaphor, in a sense. In those three characters we had a perfect metaphor for how bewildering and disorienting the landscape of sex is when all of us first discover it, you know.

5. This, I suppose, was all part of the preparation of Lost Girls, but, going back to what you told me earlier, it was supposed to be an eight-page story. Did you at any point have a “mini-version” of Lost Girls, or did you realise at the early stages that it would have been impossible to contain the concept in 8 pages?
We realised very quickly. Like I said, when we got those three basic characters in place, the story started to expand and grow from there, and we realised that, if we were going to do it justice (we realised that it was such a good idea that we would have to do it justice) that it was far too good to squander in an eight or sixteen-page story. We rapidly realised that it was going to take thirty 8page episodes or 240 pages.
Now, at the time, we didn’t realise that it would take us something like 17 or 18 years to actually finish it. But I think that if we had realised, it was still such a good idea that I think that we would have probably gone ahead with it anyway. Even if we had known how much work that would entail, you know, we were so enthusiastic about the idea that we had to do it.

Alan Moore interview [2]
Alan Moore interview [3]
Alan Moore interview [4]
Alan Moore interview [5]