JACK KIRBY COLLECTOR SIXTY-SEVEN
SPRING 2016
$10.95
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Glen Gold is still tracking down more original art pages from Thor #158-169, to examine discrepancies and learn what led to so many rejected pages in Jack’s Galactus origin arc. Here’s one of the framing pages from Thor #158 (1968), the fill-in issue which reprinted Thor’s origin. Jack’s margin note: “You'll have to send panels..." seems to support the idea that Jack penciled this issue at the last minute, based on phone conversations with Stan.
Contents
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Up Close And Personal! OPENING SHOT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .4 (take a trip through yesterday, today, and TwoMorrows via Jack)
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ISSUE #67, SPRING 2016
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I MET JACK KIRBY . . . . . . . . . . . .25 (a fan recalls the big moment) INCIDENTAL ICONOGRAPHY . . . . .26 (from Mary Poppins to Agatha Harkness) INNERVIEW . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .27 (a very patriotic 1989 interview with Jack) GALLERY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .41 (all the things Jack loved most) KIRBY KINETICS . . . . . . . . . . . . . .50 (Norris Burroughs on the streets of Jack’s neighborhood) INNERVIEW . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .52 (Jack discusses race and comics, in a 1971 interview) JACK KIRBY, ART CRITIC . . . . . . .54 (Jack’s advice to a promising fan artist) TRIBUTE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .56 (the panel discussion from the big CSUN Kirby Exhibit) KIRBY OBSCURA . . . . . . . . . . . . .74 (some strange tales before Kirby) DOWN WITH THE KING! . . . . . . . .76 (another fan’s long friendship with the Kirbys) JACK F.A.Q.s . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .77 (Mark Evanier moderates the 2015 Comic-Con Tribute Panel, with Marv Wolfman, Rob Liefeld, David Spurlock, and Paul Levine) KIRBY CAMEOS . . . . . . . . . . . . . .81 (has Jack guest-starred in comics more than Stan Lee?) JACK KIRBY MUSEUM PAGE . . . .89 (visit & join www.kirbymuseum.org) COLLECTOR COMMENTS . . . . . . .90 PARTING SHOT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .96 Page one inks: MIKE ROYER Page one color: TOM ZIUKO If you’re viewing a Digital Edition of this publication,
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Jack poses with the Yellow Kid award he received during his 1976 trip to Lucca, Italy. Photo by Shel Dorf. The Jack Kirby Collector, Vol. 23, No. 67, Spring 2016. Published as often as possible by and © TwoMorrows Publishing, 10407 Bedfordtown Drive, Raleigh, NC 27614, USA. 919-449-0344. John Morrow, Editor/Publisher. Single issues: $14 postpaid US ($18 elsewhere). Four-issue subscriptions: $45 US, $61 Canada, $66 elsewhere. Editorial package © TwoMorrows Publishing, a division of TwoMorrows Inc. All characters are trademarks of their respective companies. All artwork is © Jack Kirby Estate unless otherwise noted. All editorial matter is © the respective authors. First printing. PRINTED IN CHINA. ISSN 1932-6912
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COPYRIGHTS: Beast Rider, Captain Victory, Deep Space Disco, Deities characters, Dream Machine, Evil Gene Machine, Galactic Head, Lisa Kirby drawings, Rootz, Soul Love, Superworld of Everything, The Gods, Tribes Trilogy, True Divorce Cases TM & © Jack Kirby Estate • Mary Poppins TM & ©Walt Disney Productions • Bewitched TM & ©Columbia Pictures • The Prisoner TM & ©ITV • 2001: A Space Odyssey TM & ©Warner Bros. • Bruce Lee TM & ©Bruce Lee Enterprises, LLC • Johnny Reb and Billy Yank TM & ©the respective owner • All photos © the respective photographers • Double-Header, Fighting American, Ginza Goniff, Madame Butterscotch, Rhode Island Red, Round Robin, Sawdoff, Speedboy, Stuntman, Uncle Samurai, Yuscha Liffso TM & © Joe Simon & Jack Kirby Estates • Ariel, Gemini, Mindok, Ookla, Thundarr TM & ©Ruby-Spears Productions • Angry Charlie, Batman, Ben Boxer, Big Barda, Captain Marvel/Shazam, Darkseid, Demon, Dingbats of Danger Street, Dr. Canus, Flippa Dippa, Forager, Forever People, Guardian, Jimmy Olsen, Justice Society, Kamandi, Kliklak, Lightray, Lois Lane, Mister Miracle, New Gods, Newsboy Legion, OMAC, Orion, Sandman, Superman, The Losers, Vykin, Wonder Woman TM & ©DC Comics • Agatha Harkness, Ardina, Beast, Black Panther, Bucky, Captain America, Civil War, Don Blake, Dr. Doom, Eternals, Fantastic Four, Galactus, General Argyle Fist, Hatch-22, Hercules, Hulk, Human Torch, Ikaris, Iron Man, Karnilla, Loki, Magneto, Medusa, Mr. Fantastic, Odin, Red Skull, Silver Surfer, Spider-Man, Strange Tales, Sub-Mariner, Thing, Thor, Warriors Three, X-Men TM & ©Marvel Characters, Inc.
Opening Shot
Jack Kirby: Yesterday,
To kick off the Jack Kirby Museum’s PopUp exhibit (November 11-19, 2015) in Jack’s old neighborhood on the Lower East Side of New York, I put together a video “scrapbook” of my recollections of the man, his work, and his influence on my life and career. I presented it during the Pop-Up’s opening weekend release party for TJKC #66, and the whole whirlwind weekend experience was a blast for me.
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From the event itself, to walking around Jack’s childhood stomping grounds with Rand Hoppe and Tom Kraft (including finding the building Jack was born in), you could feel Kirby everywhere. And the feedback I received on my presentation was so positive, that rather than let all the hard work and research languish, for this “up close and personal” issue, I proudly present an expanded print version here. I hope you enjoy this trip down my personal Kirby memory lane.
was born in 1962, so my exposure to Kirby came later than many of you. But my one encounter with him, literally changed the course of my life.
By producing The Jack Kirby Collector for over 20 years, I’ve accumulated a wide array of photos and art. Here is Jack being mobbed at an early 1970s San Diego Comic-Con, mingling with fans, and talking with Golden Age great Don Rico.
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Today, & TwoMorrows
by editor John Morrow
A few of my other favorites are here. What lucky person owns that giant Captain Victory illo today? Frank Miller was a big supporter of Jack during his Original Art battle with Marvel. Here they are at Jack’s 70th birthday party. Don’t you wish you were there when Jack met Frank Zappa? And I was delighted to get to know Jack’s wife Roz Kirby. No one took better care of him.
Looking back now, it seems inevitable I’d end up producing a publication about him. I’m amazed how my life led up to it. And to think it all started with...
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...a grasshopper?!
Okay, a GIANT grasshopper, named Kliklak. In 1973, I was in my hometown of Montgomery, Alabama, trading comics with my best friend MATT. Somehow a copy of Kamandi #12 ended up in my stack. I didn’t know who the artist was, and I immediately hated the ugly square knees and fingers, and lack of super-heroes. But by the last page, while I wasn’t yet a Kamandi fan, I was impressed with this Kirby guy, who’d made me enjoy a comic I was sure I would hate. (Now, if he would only draw some super-heroes...)
One night in early 1974, my Aunt gave me a stack of comic books her boyfriend no longer wanted. On top was New Gods #6. The title sounded sacrilegious, and I was a little afraid to open it. But “The Glory Boat” BLEW... MY... MIND! I read it repeatedly, but still wasn’t satisfied. I had to have more! Issue #9 was also there, and I devoured it.
I cut out the Kirby figures and made my own story scenes. And I became obsessed with finding out what this “Fourth World” thing was. (My first page of original art was from New Gods #9, with one of my favorite Kirby poses on it.)
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I started searching for information on Jack, and the Overstreet Price Guide helped me see how far-reaching his career was. I subscribed to the Buyer’s Guide, and saw ads for Kirby comics for sale. It was also a great place to read about people who met Jack at the San Diego Comic-Con. But I was never able to convince my parents to take me there so I could meet him myself. I learned that Jack was regularly hosting fans in his California living room, in meet-ups coordinated by Comic-Con co-founder Shel Dorf.
Here’s Shel in A 1973 photo with Jack. Do yOu recognize that kid in the chair above?
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From Her...
...To HerE?!
Incidental Iconography An ongoing analysis of Kirby’s visual shorthand, and how he inadvertently used it to develop his characters, by Sean Kleefeld
ne of the primary ideas behind the Incidental Iconography column is to examine how Jack designed his characters using some key elements. By watching how Jack altered his depiction of a character over time, we can get a sense of what he felt were the essential visual ingredients for them. So why devote a column to Agatha Harkness, one of the last characters Jack developed from his long run on the Fantastic Four and a character he drew for only a single issue? Despite only one appearance of her by Jack, there’s something to delve into here. We know that the character design that was published was not Jack’s original take on the character. We have some unused panels from that issue depicting a very different look for Agatha [below]. She has dark hair, a large brimmed hat, and white gloves. Some have claimed that she was patterned after Roz but, frankly, I don’t see it. There’s also been claims that the design was “too good” for Marvel in the last days of Jack’s tenure there; considering how striking the published design ultimately was, I have my doubts here as well.
for both versions of Agatha Harkness. Compare, if you will, Jack’s original design with the suffragette outfit that Glynis Johns wears as Winifred Banks in the movie [below]. Jack lines the sleeves and neck with fur instead of gauze, but the coat, gloves, and hat are remarkably similar in appearance. He’s not using any of Andrews’ costumes, but he’s still able to play off the film’s Edwardian veneer to contrast against the ultra-modern, hightech approach he generally took with the Fantastic Four themselves. Whether Jack deliberately wanted to play off the movie without duplicating Andrews’ costumes, or he simply misremembered who was wearing what, is a matter of conjecture. Regarding the “too good” line, that is attributable back to Roz: She was talking about withholding some full-page splashes Jack had done for Thor at around the same time. They were later collected in the Kirby Unleashed portfolio and, if you check out those images, there’s a much greater sense of epicness than what we see in his original (understated and backgroundless) Agatha panels—which suggests to me that the original Agatha design went unused for some other reason. My guess is that someone (Roz? Barbara? Stan?) commented that having a younger nanny character with magical powers bore too much similarity to Mary Poppins, still relatively fresh in the minds of an American media audience. By aging Agatha considerably, she becomes more of a stereotypical witch character, akin to Bewitched’s “Endora,” Agnes Morehead [left], and perhaps more suited to the horror story that Fantastic Four #94 wound up being. Curiously, Agatha’s new hairstyle still bears some similarity to what Johns wore in the film, although the visual similarities end there. This is, as I noted, mostly speculation. I haven’t been able to find evidence to support any claims to Agatha’s visual origins although, as Jack had just moved to California earlier that year and was already talking to Carmine Infantino about working for DC, I do think it’s safe to say that Jack didn’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about Agatha’s iconography. ★
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Consider this: Jack created Agatha in 1969 (in Fantastic Four #94) as a character to take care of Franklin Richards while his parents were out adventuring. Although she’s commonly referred to as a “governess,” Stan Lee’s dialogue for the original issue only refers to her as a “child-rearing specialist.” Another name, which isn’t used but I think is significant here, is “nanny.” Arguably, the English language’s most famous nanny is Mary Poppins, thanks in large part to the 1964 Disney movie starring Julie Andrews in the title role [left]. The movie was immensely popular and, with his daughter Barbara 12 years old at the time, I can’t imagine Jack not seeing it. Although it’s just speculation on my part, I think Jack used Mary Poppins as his inspiration 26
In 1989, having interviewed Joe Simon on the imminent release of Marvel’s Fighting American hardcover compilation, I followed up by talking to Jack Kirby. Selected quotes from these interviews appeared in several Comics Scene articles on Fighting American and Captain America. While the full Simon interview later ran in Comic Book Marketplace, the complete Kirby transcript has never before seen print. Although this exchange is limited to Kirby’s patriotic heroes, he does reflect on his career in general. More importantly, it accurately reflects the indomitable spirit of Jack Kirby in the last years of his life.
Innerview
Jack Kirby Remembers Interviewed by Will Murry in 1989 • Thanks to Brian K. Morris for the meticulous transcription. WILL MURRAY: When I was a kid back in the 1960s reading Marvel Comics, I came across a coverless issue of Fighting American #3. I was fascinated by it. It was unlike the Marvel Comics, which I did enjoy and still do. There was an element of fun that was only in the earlier Marvel Comics. JACK KIRBY: The atmosphere at that time was very bleak for everybody, really, because it was right after the war and it was the early 1950s and we were just turning our attention to look for another enemy. MURRAY: This was the McCarthy era and America was kind of in a panic. And I wondered why in an atmosphere where everybody was looking for Reds under the beds, as it were, you decided to play the Commies as fun, inept villains. KIRBY: Because I didn’t believe they were that serious a challenge—although the Communists, they had one stage and that was the streets. And I was brought up as a city boy and I’d seen Communist parades, and I’d seen union strikes, and all sorts of parades, and that’s what it looked like to me. And I think the average American never took them seriously and they never got a foothold here, not in a serious way. MURRAY: This is true. History’s proven you right. In the past year or so, the Communists have proven pretty ineffective. KIRBY: Sure, Americans never deviate from their own history.
Fighting American villains, from the mid-1970s Valentine’s Day sketchbook Jack drew for wife Roz.
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MURRAY: Take me back to 1953, ’54 when you and Joe Simon first sat down and came up with the Fighting American idea. How did the trend, the conversation go? Do you recall? KIRBY: Oh, the conversation was—well, the gist of it was, what was current? And that’s how we always worked. Captain America was a current product of its time and at that time, Hitler was in the news and the Nazis were in the news, Europe was being swallowed up, one country after another, and when were we getting into war? There was a state of hysteria. This was a similar frame except it never got that serious. But there was a state of hysteria about Communism and it
Innerview
May 1971 Kirby Interview
by Lee Falk and Steve DeJarnatt, and edited from a raw transcript by Concrete creator Paul Chadwick in 2014
(above) Jack’s original 1960s concept drawing for the Black Panther. (below) This interview is unpublished, except for a ditto’d transcript that was apparently shared only with a college class at Occidental College. Below is the first page of the original transcript.
[PAUL CHADWICK: This unpublished interview, conducted at the 1971 San Diego Comic Convention, was done as part of a paper for the class “Confrontations of Politics and Art” by two young students at Occidental College in Los Angeles. One, Steve DeJarnatt, went on to write and direct films, including the cult film Miracle Mile, which I storyboarded. During a recent visit, he dug out the interview and paper. The transcript was very raw, including every repetition, trailing-off sentence fragment, “ahs,” and even a PA system announcement, so I have edited it for clarity. It’s amusing to see the college students try to bait Kirby into trashing Steranko and Stan Lee, which Jack refrains from doing (though his tone on Lee is chilly). Jack’s pretty hedged and conflict-averse in his comments generally. But it’s an interesting time capsule, with Kirby’s ramblings on Captain America, drugs, racism, and God. He repeats himself, contradicts himself, and sometimes becomes lost in words. But keep in mind the poor guy was grabbed at a noisy convention and asked difficult, overly broad questions with no time to reflect. When Jack lapses into the style of speech of his Lower East Side youth, it’s charming.]
own [opinions]. I [don’t] have any special crusade to inject into the comics so I can convert others. I feel I have no right to do that. Nobody’s ever done that to me, and I’m not going to do that to anybody else. Q: Do you think politics has any place in comics? KIRBY: Certainly, it has a place… it needs a special division by itself—just like romance comics, or adventure comics. Comics should come out of all aspects of life, all aspects of society. But as far as politics, I feel comics should do it in a definitive way. In other words, do it rationally, research a subject, then give an opinion on it. In other words, if I were to comment on My Lai, say, I would get all the facts before I put it in the comics. Then I’d make a rational version of it. I wouldn’t just give you a raw emotional feeling on something that demands just the opposite. That would be wrong. [My Lai was an incident during the Vietnam War in March 1968, where US soldiers brutally killed civilians.] Q: You spoke earlier on the merits of putting your personal feelings in the comics… politics are a very personal thing… KIRBY: No, those are my… for instance, [earlier] I spoke about ghosts. That’s a common subject. Everybody has a [set of beliefs] on that. As I said [then], that’s my particular version of it and I’m not asking anyone to believe it. Q: But politically, how would you describe yourself— liberal, conservative, Democratic, Republican? KIRBY: Politically, I can’t categorize myself. I don’t believe in labels. What I might say today may be liberal, and tomorrow it might be conservative—because someone has found aspects of the issue I haven’t seen. So I never give definitive answers on politics. I feel I’m not qualified, [nor do I have] easy access to all the information. Whatever I give you on politics would come from my own experiences in the past. The past might be good enough. That’s what I mean to say. I’m conditioned by a certain type of life, and I can only give you the [results] of my conditioning. I’m not asking anyone to accept or reject them. I can just throw them out and say this is what I’ve done, and that’s me, exactly! To answer on an issue, it might reflect what I thought in the past, or what kind of guy I am.
QUESTION: Can we talk to you? KIRBY: Yeah, what, two minutes, three? Q: Could you comment on your political beliefs and how they might influence your work? KIRBY: Like I say, I never inject politics into the comics. I never inject my personal beliefs. Comics, to me, are purely entertainment. I feel I’ve no right to impose what I believe on readers. And so I don’t. I merely entertain. I do my versions of classics, I do my version of originals, I do my version of whatever I develop. Outside serious issues? I certainly have my own. I form my
Q: What about drugs? KIRBY: The only thing I can say is I’m not going to knock it, because I haven’t tried it. But do mindexpanding drugs produce mind-expanding people? So far I haven’t seen that kind of product. I haven’t seen people who have anything particularly relevant to contribute, after using [drugs]. Q: How about racism? In your comics, do you integrate? KIRBY: [misunderstanding the word as “discriminate”] No, I don’t integrate! I’ve never been a racist! I’ve never seen color as such. I come from a place where there were no minorities—just people you know. I’ve always seen people as people. Yes, I’ve used all the cliché words pertaining to 52
negroes, and anybody else, because that’s all I heard around my neighborhood. But I’ve never [acted] in a way that would be detrimental to them.
Q: Did you dislike or resent any of the things Steranko did with your Captain America? KIRBY: No. I can’t either like or dislike it, because it’s Steranko’s own version. That’s something you’ll have to [take up] with Steranko. I can’t analyze it for Steranko, because it hasn’t come out of me. I don’t know why Steranko’s version is as it is. Only Steranko can [say]. I could analyze it in my own way, if I like, but I don’t know if it
Q: In your comics, do you portray blacks in major roles? KIRBY: Yes, I feel they have a major role in our society! Just like any of us have… [An interruption occurs as Jack asks to continue over at his table] Q: Did you create Captain America? KIRBY: Yeah, I did. Q: He’s sort of a cultural-political symbol, isn’t he? KIRBY: Captain America is a kind of wish symbol. I’ve been brought up with patriotic feelings as much as the next guy. I want to see America protected as much as the next guy. Captain America is to me a symbol to protect America; nothing could happen to America if Captain America was there. To me, it’s just a feeling. Like religion is a feeling—the kind of feeling I have when, oh, a man can try to make contact with God. Personally, I believe in God. I have that feeling, but nothing more. I feel part of Him is in me, and if I have that feeling, I’ve made contact. I’m my own church. I’m my own synagogue, as a living thing. I feel that contact with God because I’m alive. A building isn’t alive. A building is something built by me. And if it’s built by me, I have responsibility for that contact. Q: So would you say that Captain America is your symbol of what America should be? KIRBY: Not what America should be. Captain America is a symbol of what America means to me. I feel America should be protected. I’d like it to be preserved. So Captain America preserves it for me. Q: How great an influence do you think such a symbol has on young kids who read your comics? KIRBY: Captain America, to my mind, is a symbol that can be identified with by anybody. If you’re an American, you can identify with Captain America, no matter what your persuasion. Simple as that. I’ve always kept him that way. He’s not categorized, not any particular type of man. He’s a representative symbol of what you want.
Vykin takes center stage in Forever People #7 (1972). Hey, do you suppose Jack first named him just Vykin—ie. “Viking”— then subliminally thought of “Eric the Red,” and that’s where “Vykin the Black” came from?
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TRIBUTE
CSUN Kirby Panel With opening commentary by Charles Hatfield
For a closer look at the CSUN exhibition itself, be sure to check out last issue’s feature. For a video of this panel, go to: https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=vixR0CNrz1o (right) The companion catalog to the exhibition features scholarly essays about Jack’s work by Glen David Gold, Diana Schutz, Howard Chaykin, Carla Speed McNeil, and others. It was published by and is available through IDW.
(above) One of Jack’s collages which was on display at CSUN. (right) The promotional postcard for the exhibit. This Silver Surfer #18 image was also used for a giant mural in the gallery.
The exhibition Comic Book Apocalypse: The Graphic World of Jack Kirby ran from August 24 through October 10, 2015 at the California State University, Northridge Art Galleries in Los Angeles. This show, the largest solo Kirby exhibition yet mounted in the United States, incorporated 107 originals and filled the Main Gallery space, which consists of three rooms, about 3000 square feet, and 300 linear wall feet. Comic Book Apocalypse has the distinction of being the best-attended art exhibition in the history of CSU Northridge, drawing some 6200 visitors in its seven weeks. The opening reception, on Saturday, August 29, drew more than 600 people; the gallery talk on the following Monday morning, featuring Mark Evanier, was filled to capacity at about 150; and the show’s last big public event, a panel discussion and catalog signing on Saturday, September 26, drew more than 300. On its final afternoon, Saturday, October 10—a period of just four hours—the show drew an additional 350-plus. The Gallery led a record number of tours through the exhibition (more than forty, totaling about 1350 people). I cannot count the number of times I found myself in the Gallery, serving as de facto docent or hearing stories full of love and admiration from fans, friends, and colleagues of Jack Kirby—and from people who had never looked at his work before! I’m not surprised by any of this. Or, rather, I’m surprised and proud that I was able to do my part, but not at all surprised by the sheer enthusiasm for Kirby’s art and the big numbers racked up at the Gallery. I think the Gallery team may have been surprised, and that many of my CSUN colleagues were surprised, but to me the idea that people should want to come see a hundred-plus Kirby originals is a no-brainer. For me, curating this show fulfilled a lifelong dream, that of acknowledging publicly, somehow, my fascination with, and never-repayable imaginative debt to, the art of Kirby. Ten-year-old me and fifty-year-old, professorial me were arm-in-arm on this one, and delirious with joy to be doing it. Comic Book Apocalypse was an idea whose time had already past come. During my preparation for the show, I talked or exchanged emails with several other scholars who also wanted to do Kirby shows at their institutions. I got lucky. On the heels of my book, Hand of Fire: The Comic Art of Jack Kirby (2011), I got the opportunity to be the first person to curate a Kirby show at a university. This all came about because CSUN Galleries Director Jim Sweeters—a savvy, interested, and generous man—invited me to do it. What happened was that Jim and I met during the Gallery’s big Robert Williams exhibition about six years ago. On the night Williams—of Zap Comix and Juxtapoz fame—did the Hans Burkhardt Lecture (named for the abstract expressionist painter and former CSUN teacher) and a signing in the Gallery, I was somehow introduced to Jim. That event got me into the Gallery after too many years away—I should have come long before—and that’s how we began to strike up a conversation about doing a comic art show. For the record, that was on March 10, 2010. And then, five days later, incredibly, I ran into Jim again at Pasadena City College, where esteemed artist (and Kirbyphile) Gary Panter was doing a weeklong residency, facilitated by my colleague, PCC Gallery Director Brian Tucker. Serendipity! From then on Jim and I were talking seriously about a comics exhibition. I waffled for a while about what theme to do—Los Angeles cartooonists? Alternative comics? Fantasy comics?—but when Hand of Fire bowed at the end of 2011 to good reviews, I allowed myself, finally, to see the obvious: What I really want to do is a full-on Kirby show. Jim said yes, and that’s when our roughly three years of concerted work really began. It turned out that we had bit off a lot. For a first-time Main Gallery show devoted to original comic art—and a first-time curatorial effort by yours truly, an English prof—we aimed high. How high, 56
do things in the gallery world, even as I taught him about Kirby. Jim understood the challenge of enlivening a space filled with many objects of nearly the same size and shape, of bringing in color to energize the scene, of taking an intimate form known for its hand feel, the comic book, and blowing it up to gallery scale. Jim’s hands-on creativity helped make the show spectacular. It’s one thing to sit in your study and spin out arguments about an artist on your laptop; it’s quite another to build arguments in three dimensions while making sure not to get in the way of the viewer’s pleasure. Having learned so much through this experience, I’m frankly dying to do more shows. You’ll see in the accompanying transcript of our Sept. 26 panel that the status of comic art as readable, handheld art, as opposed to spectacular gallery art, was one of my abiding concerns when it came to putting on this show. I wanted story to be highlighted as well as art. Fortunately, we were able to fulfill one of my earliest ambitions for the show by displaying all of the originals for a whole issue of Kamandi (#14, 1973) in one of the rear galleries, alongside Tom Kraft’s brilliant pencils-to-inks iPad display of this same issue; moreover, we were able to display all the originals for Thor #155 (1968) in an adjoining gallery. This one-two punch turned out even better than I had hoped, because the differences in style and production between the Kamandi, inked and lettered by Mike Royer, and the Thor, largely inked by Vince Colletta and lettered by Artie Simek, proved to be very instructive to gallery visitors. To show one story edited by Kirby himself, and another edited by Stan Lee, and to highlight certain features of the original boards that were artifacts of the production process, turned out to be a real coup, for which I am very grateful. In fact “grateful” describes my entire experience of curating the show and co-editing, with Ben Saunders, its accompanying catalog (co-published by CSUN and IDW under the supervision of Scott Dunbier). To have done these things—to have had the opportunity, and seen the joy that the results brought so many—fills me with thanks and wonder. I only hope it won’t be long before the next big Kirby exhibition in the States. We need more, and there is so much more to show.
I didn’t realize until I began seeking out and courting collectors of the original art. The world of comic art collecting is a culture unto itself, and back then I was not very familiar with it, despite having studied comics as reading matter for a good chunk of my life. Fortunately, certain collectors, such as Glen David Gold and Mark Evanier, and certain colleagues, such as my friend Ben Saunders (an experienced curator himself ), could act as my Virgils in this underworld, so that I could eventually feel at home. What I’ve learned about collectors and about the history of comic art during this experience, I can’t possibly tell in just a few paragraphs, but suffice to say that gathering the works for this show was a prolonged, sometimes suspenseful, and ultimately very social process. I asked for a lot of work because I could not overcome my worry that many of the works we asked for would not materialize. But I was wrong: we got a great many works, a trove really, and then in Summer 2015, with just weeks left until our opening, Jim and I set about figuring out to put all those works into the framework I had envisioned long, long ago. It was then that I learned that one’s existing ideas and arguments must inevitably yield to the sheer visual power of the artworks once you have them—so many of them, in house, in hand, and clamoring for space. Certain ideas I loved and pushed for almost from the start, such as creating a reading corner with books in it to stress the readability of comic art, got pushed aside due to the challenge of showing so much Kirby work to advantage in a space that people, we hoped, would enjoy moving through. To take my interests and make them work within a space that visitors could navigate—to make a livelier, more interactive space—that was the trick. Comic Book Apocalypse benefited a great deal from the help of the Jack Kirby Museum and Research Center, which provided us many images and several crucial design elements, including interactive iPad displays. Thanks to the Museum’s leaders, Tom Kraft and Rand Hoppe, our show became much stronger. We also owe many thanks to designer Louis Solis, who adapted a vintage Kirby/Herb Trimpe splash (from Silver Surfer #18, 1970) to create the show’s branding image, which became the template for the design of the whole space; to David Folkman, for the many wonderful photos; and to mural designer Geoff Grogan, a terrific comics artist and teacher, whose staggering “New Gods” mural inspired me to rethink just where and how many of the works were going to go into the space. Also, the CSUN Galleries team, including exhibition coordinator Michelle Giacopuzzi and assistants Jack Castellanos and Janet Solval, did a tremendous amount of work to get the art on the walls, matted and framed, shown to advantage, and properly documented. Sixteen lenders—a far cry from the mere handful I originally promised Jim—made the show possible. Without them, we would have had nothing. It was Jim himself, though, who taught me the way to
[The following panel discussion was conducted on September 26, 2015, at California State University, Northridge. It was transcribed by Sean Dulaney, edited by John Morrow, and revised by the panel.] Jack hard at work on the left half of his painting “Dream Machine” in 1975. The original (pictured above) was on display at CSUN. Look at all those Dr. Martin’s dyes bottles! Photo by David Folkman.
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Sitting next to Steve is artist, curator, writer, critic, experimental musician—you name it, Doug Harvey, who can be found online at dougharvey.la. [applause] Doug was, for more than a dozen years, the lead art critic at L.A. Weekly, and it was his writing about Jack Kirby’s Fourth World that really brought him onto my radar perhaps 15 years ago, and we’re pleased to have him among our catalog contributors. Sitting next to Doug is my colleague and good friend, Ben Saunders from the University of Oregon. [applause] Ben is the founder of the Comics and Cartoon Studies program at the University of Oregon, which is this country’s first undergraduate liberal arts degree program in comics studies—a first, and a program like no other. He’s also a renaissance literature scholar, a pop music scholar, a scholar of comic books and of the superhero narrative, and the co-editor of our catalog, without whom I could do nothing. So, thank you to Ben. [applause] To my immediate left, Adam McGovern, a prolific writer of cultural criticism and of comic books. You may have seen him at hilowbrow.com or other online critical venues. Among his comic book creations is a deliriously Kirby-esque collaboration with Paolo Leandri on the recent comic book published by Image called Nightworld, which is really funky and head-turning and great, so you should check that out. [applause] To my right, from Indiana University-Bloomington is the art historian and artist, Andrei Molotiu, who is the founder of the newly formed center at IU for the study of comics and sequential art. His publications include Fragonard’s Allegories of Love, which is the companion to his Getty exhibition he curated here in L.A. some years ago, and also the mindboggling anthology called Abstract Comics. Andrei is the foremost authority and proponent of the abstract comic genre, or movement, and an incredible maker of sequential art in his own right. [applause] And finally, on the far right of the table, from Stanford University, professor of film and media studies, Scott Bukatman: a fellow comics teacher, and, like so many here on the panel, another catalog contributor. Scott is the author of The Poetics of Slumberland, Terminal Identity, Matters of Gravity, the BFI Film Classics book on Blade Runner, and, forthcoming from the University of California Press, an amazing book called Hellboy’s World. Scott Bukatman. [applause] So let the record show Steve, Doug, Ben, Adam, myself, Andrei and Scott. More panelists than you can shake a stick at. So I want to start out with a brief question for every panelist, and I’ll ask you (though I’m springing this on you all unexpectedly) to answer this as succinctly as you can: [tell us] about your first Kirby comics or Kirby art memory, or an early formative one that sticks in your brain. Whether it was delightful or confounding, whether you loved it or were troubled by it. If there’s just something like that early in your experience that you can relate to us. Steve?
JIM SWEETERS: I’m the gallery director here at the CSUN Galleries. Thank you for coming to our panel discussion on Jack Kirby—Comic Book Apocalypse: The Graphic World of Jack Kirby. Charles Hatfield, professor of English here on campus, will lead the discussion and curated the exhibition. [applause] He teaches popular culture, graphic novel classes, and comics classes and, as I said, is in the English Department. So, I’m going to let him introduce the panelist—and thank you, panelists, for coming. Thank you all for coming, and we will see you later in the Gallery. [applause] CHARLES HATFIELD: So, we’re flying by the seat of our pants this afternoon. That seems appropriate somehow, given the energy and sense of release or escape that you so often see in the work of the great Jack Kirby. We’re grateful to be able to mount an exhibition of Jack’s work here at Cal State Northridge, and indeed to mount the largest exhibition of Kirby that this country has yet seen. It seems unlikely that Cal State Northridge should be the place, but why not? [laughter] And the answer as to how that came about has to do with the generosity of Jim Sweeters, our gallery director, who five years ago—just after meeting me—said, “Hey, how about a comics show?” I don’t think Jim knew what he was in for, necessarily. But since that time, we’ve worked together to bring the Comic Book Apocalypse show into our Gallery space. We have a jam-packed panel of Kirby experts— Kirby thinkers: artists and scholars and creators of all stripes. And we’re just going to toss back and forth a few broad and, we hope, generative questions this afternoon. Many of the panelists are contributors to the catalog. I hope to introduce them quickly, succinctly. So I’ll just start over here on my far left with L.A.-based artist Steve Roden. [applause] Steve is a painter. He’s a maker of spaces, of installations. He’s a sound artist. He has an exhibition ongoing now at the Pasadena Museum of California Art. He can be found online at inbetweennoise.com. He’s also an avid collector of comics art.
STEVE RODEN: Thanks. The first comic book I ever had as a child was from a babysitter named George Levitt, who was completely insane. When my parents left the house and left me alone with him, all kinds of crazy stuff happened. One of the things he gave me that first babysitting night was Jimmy Olsen... I think it was #145. It still has, for me, everything that I’m interested in in Kirby’s work. It begins with three crazy monsters in the first three pages, and on the fourth page is a monster called “Angry Charlie”, who looked like he was made of bubble gum. The images, for an 8-year-old, were so 58
Photos by John Morrow
dynamic, I had no idea what to do with them. I didn’t read comics as a kid. I just tried to copy the pictures, but I did it terribly… That’s how I became an artist. [laughter]
everyone’s like that.” Kirby was showing me—that’s the kind of future I liked Kirby showing me. A little afield of your question, but that was what made an impact on me.
DOUG HARVEY: Yeah, Jimmy Olsen. Me too. I probably had seen Kirby’s work before. I read… I definitely read Silver Surfer and Fantastic Four, but the first thing that hit me consciously was when Kirby took over Jimmy Olsen. It blew my mind because it was so strange. The clone of Don Rickles [laughter], hippies living in trees, and flying cars, and so on and so on. It was like suddenly someone was doing something with comics that was a whole world beyond what was already going on. It just seemed to open up… and then close down. [laughter]
HATFIELD: I can’t remember when I wasn’t reading Kirby. I used to say that Kamandi, The Last Boy on Earth #32, which was a double-sized issue, was the first one I bought with my own money, my allowance money— which I didn’t really earn, but my parents, bless them, gave me. Although I now realize I had a lot of Kirby memories prior to that and I don’t know how that’s possible. For example, there’s a page in the exhibition from The Demon #14 which I can remember reading in front of the television at my grandmother’s house. I
BEN SAUNDERS: I grew up in the U.K., so there was no access to American comics, or it was irregular and haphazard. But there was our British Marvel [magazines] and they were reprinting the ’60s stuff. So, I couldn’t tell you which particular story it was, but it would’ve been the Fantastic Four. The British comics were cheaper and produced in black-&-white, so my early memories of Kirby—and I think this is important in terms of my own connection to him— were that I was seeing the work at a larger size than the American comics, and always without color. There was something about the handling of the ink that made it very easy to fall into the page. So that would be it. I was very young. I’m thinking back to memories of Doctor Doom stealing the Silver Surfer’s powers—those kinds of stories. That’s probably my first Kirby encounter that I can remember. ADAM McGOVERN: I think I was conscious of Kirby before I was acquainted with him. By which I mean, his style is so pervasive that it was instantly recognizable, and definitive of comics style. I remember, only now—I have a memory for the first time in like 46 years of envisioning a comic that I wanted to do that I know was patterned on the compositions of Kirby. You know, some hero kicking in the faces of some strangely arranged colonnade of Nazis, this kind of weirdly set up action. And I think… I’m not sure. I must have become aware of who he was—which guy was doing this stuff— with the Fourth World. And the things that stand out to me are, really, kind of like a civic education. I’m a writer, so I approach Kirby from a textual direction and it was kind of like my civic education. Like when Izaya talks about, “Where is Izaya, the servant of those he leads?” You know, all of [these] Nixon-era yearnings for a truer democracy. Or, like when Richard, I think it is, in “The Glory Boat” says, “I’m a conscientious objector, I’m opposed to all killing and violence,” and Lightray says, “I know a place where 59
(previous page) The poster “Galactic Head” is available with your membership to the Jack Kirby Museum: www.kirbymuseum.org. (below) Page 5 pencils from Jimmy Olsen #145 (1972). This mag’s editor thinks Angry Charlie is Jack’s best monster design ever, and worthy of his own book (by Mike Mignola, maybe?).
“He Wished He Was a Vampire,” a Pete Tomlinson offering in #7 (with a very striking splash panel of a screaming man in flames), Bill Everett’s “Hidden Head” cover for ST #10, a premier outing in ST for Joe Sinnott (featured in an earlier issue of From the Tomb), even Bernard Krigstein (though signally lacking—as yet—the remarkable design skill he was to bring to his later EC work), and Jim Mooney’s “The Monster’s Son,” showing that he could handle Frankenstein’s creation as capably as he could (later) Supergirl and the Legion of Super-Heroes. After finishing this volume (all reservations aside), you’ll be (as the Crypt Keeper used to say) hungry for another horror helping. Of course, if you want horror Jack Kirby-style, you’ll have to look out for those Black Magic reprints…★
FIRING ON ALL CYLINDERS By the time of Strange Tales #6, Atlas is clearly firing on all cylinders. Gone are the diffuse, undramatic covers, and we have the first truly excellent piece of work by another one of the major Atlas artists, the massively talented Russ Heath. A terrified man, down on his knees, pounds at a massive metal door, shrieking, “Let me out!! He’s right behind me!! I can hear the footsteps of the ugly man!” (Multiple exclamation marks were de rigueur for Stan Lee in his early Atlas days.) Behind the frightened man, a figure in a purple suit stalks towards him. All we can see of this creature is an extended grey-hued hand, covered in scales. Yes, here is the definitive Atlas cover style, refined it to the level of frisson-inducing excitement that guaranteed the sales of the books to GIs and lucky kids of the 1950s (before, that is, the Comics Code did away with such grisliness). And the first story—as if this weren’t enough—is more Russ Heath! A man in a blue space suit stumbles across a bleak, cracked alien landscape, arms raised in fear. No blurb, no speech balloon—neither is needed. And the SF tale that follows is delivered in characteristic Heath fashion: powerful, bold lines, strong crosshatching, and brilliant draughtsmanship. Perhaps not yet Russ Heath at his apogee (that was to come a few issues later), but still good enough to blow away most of the competition. Now the goodies come thick and fast: Maneely’s “My Brother Talks to Bats,” a first appearance in ST for later Daredevil artist Gene Colan with
Down With The King! by Earl Martin I first met Jack “King” Kirby at Carl Taylor’s 1977 Art and Comics Appreciation Day at the L.A. Library. Also there was Mark Evanier, Scott Shaw, Larry F. Houston, and more great contributors to comics fandom. I was 16 and too shy to show my “hero” my art. So as “The King” was outside getting mobbed, I was in a quiet part of the Library— where I began a friendship with a great artist and legend, Sergio Aragonés. I was very familiar with his work—the scribbles of his genius on the borders of MAD. We shared stories for what seemed hours—he gave me the confidence to go meet my hero. When I went outside, Roz was trying to separate the crowd from Jack, saying ever so politely but sternly, “Honey, it’s time to go!” (Of course, the extended family won for a few more minutes!) She turned and noticed me there with my painted posters on the outside of my portfolio (Carl Taylorstyle). I stood there in shock. My bud and fellow artist David Phillips blurted out to Roz, “He wants to show Kirby his art, but he’s scared!” In that motherly Jewish New Yorker tone, she said, “Let me see.” She was impressed by my potential, and after a few questions she took a liking to me. She pulled Jack from the crowd and showed him my art. I remember telling him, “Carl Taylor was a great mentor and friend.” Roz and Jack were in agreement. “Keep us updated... when in town, come up!” Being poor, I never made the trip, but we stayed in contact. At the ’87 San Diego Con, we reunited and exchanged art, love, and friendship—until his passing. I forget if it was one or two years later, I got my last motherly kiss and hug from “Ma Kirby.” I said, “Roz, what are you doing in that wheelchair?” She was always strong and in charge! She said some personal comments of encouragement to me, and gave me a Captain Victory/Silver Star card signed by Jack. We hugged, and as I walked away, fans and family engulfed her with love and compassion. I was and am proud of the fact Mr. and Mrs. Jack “King” Kirby considered me more than a fan. ★ 76
Mark Evanier
Jack F.A.Q.s A column of Frequently Asked Questions about Kirby
The war is over, and now it’s just beginning! Following the court settlement, Marvel is now giving Kirby proper credit, as they did heavily on the January 19, 2016 TV special Captain America: 75 Heroic Years—a lead-in to this Spring’s pivotal Marvel film Captain America: Civil War.
be chased by a caterpillar.” [laughter] But with Jack, it was hard to sometimes second-guess where that brain of his was going. Maybe he would have gone, “Of course Ant-Man is a great movie.” I don’t know that for a fact. One of the other things that has changed is that a lawsuit was settled. You may have heard about this. And we’re not going to talk much about it at all, really. I’m going to say two things about it. One was that I’m real happy, Jack and Roz would have been happy, the Kirby family is happy, everybody around the Kirby family is very happy. Now, you can make an argument that it’s too little, too late, Jack and Roz should have been here to see it. Okay, fine. Given. Given the reality of what was possible, I am very happy. Now, the second thing is a personal matter. I met Jack in July of 1969, almost exactly this time of July, in fact. And he told me at that time, as he told anyone who visited him then, what he felt he had contributed to the Marvel Universe, what he did, how he felt he was being under-credited and not treated very well. And through subsequent visits, as I got to know him better, I learned more and more about that. And I began to realize that— and, of course, I started meeting people like Don Heck, and Steve Ditko, and Joe Sinnott, and Dick Ayers, and Stan Lee, and Sol Brodsky, other people who were around through all that, and I began to realize that Jack’s version of the events was essentially correct. One could occasionally quibble with a mistake of memory. Jack would occasionally say “Captain Marvel” when he meant “Captain America,” or he’d sometimes confuse Dick Ayers with Joe Sinnott when he was talking about something— the kind of mistakes everybody makes. And he had some different terminology sometimes for words like “creator” or “writing.” But I found that Jack was very honest, a very honest man. I never, in my entire association with him, felt he was intentionally lying to me, or to anyone. I never heard Jack lie. I heard him get things wrong— which comic Iron Man was in or something like that— but I never felt that he lied. And over the years, my feeling that he was under-credited, that he was being financially wronged, grew and grew, and I got madder and madder, and I got to a point in my life where I could not go see Marvel movies. It just annoyed me
2015 Kirby Tribute Panel Held at 10:00 a.m. on Sunday, July 12, 2015 at Comic-Con International: San Diego. Featuring Rob Liefeld, Marv Wolfman, J. David Spurlock, and Paul S. Levine, and moderated by Mark Evanier. Transcribed by Steven Tice, edited by John Morrow, and copyedited by Mark Evanier. You can view a video of this panel at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewpZ2sAn7F8 MARK EVANIER: Since we last met, the major change in the— You know, Jack was a man who was rarely ever surprised by anything relating to comics. He was surprised a bit by the business ethics, but the content didn’t surprise him. Somebody asked me last year, “Would Jack have been surprised that there was this huge multi-milliondollar movie of the Avengers?” No. Would Jack have been surprised that there was this huge multi-milliondollar movie of Thor? No. The other day somebody asked me, “Would Jack have been surprised to see a multimillion-dollar movie of Ant-Man?” Maybe. [laughter] I don’t know for sure. I think—AntMan was the character that Jack cared about the least of anything he had ever worked on, and he got very angry one time—well, not very angry, maybe, on a scale of one to ten, about a five — when somebody remarked, “Obviously, because Jack was short, the character he must have identified with most was Ant-Man.” [laughter] And Jack said, “That’s stupid.” And he thought Ant-Man was a stupid comic, because nobody fantasizes about being an ant. [laughter] They fantasize about smashing down walls and being able to fly… Nobody suddenly says, “I really want to
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