SwanShadow Thinks Out Loud

Here’s a little something that I’ve owned for a couple of years now, but that somehow has never found its way into a Comic Art Friday post before today.

It’s Black Canary, one of the most venerable comic book superheroines, as rendered by the perspicacious Aldrin Aw, better known to the comics world by the nom de plume Buzz. (If you think about it for a moment, you’ll figure it out.) I acquired this artwork second-hand via an eBay auction, so even though Buzz annotated it “Baltimore ’06,” you may rest assured that I was nowhere near Baltimore in ’06. Therefore, whatever might have gone down there then, I cannot be held responsible.

Black Canary fascinates me, if for no other reason than that she has survived an incredibly long career in comics — she first appeared in Flash Comics #86 in 1947 — without being a particularly interesting or remarkable character. I don’t mean that at all unkindly; as I’ve noted, I’m a fan. It’s just that in any group, someone has to represent the average, the median, the merely competent. When it comes to superheroines, Black Canary falls into that broad central swath.

In her initial incarnation, Black Canary was nothing more than a carbon copy of another popular Golden Age heroine, Harvey Comics’ Black Cat. The two characters had obviously connected code names, wore similar costumes, had similar talents (both were martial arts experts who rode motorcycles), and were frequently drawn by the same artist, the great Lee Elias. As time progressed, the Canary gained a few points of distinction. In 1948, she became the second female member, after Wonder Woman, of the Justice Society of America; the Canary’s Silver Age incarnation would likewise follow Diana into the Justice League in 1969. Also in the Silver Age, the Canary gained a superpower — the Canary Cry, an ultrasonic scream that wreaked havoc on her opponents. (Although it didn’t induce psychedelic hallucinations in its victims, like that of Daredevil’s nemesis Angar the Screamer. Cool though that would have been.)

For the past several decades, Black Canary has been romantically linked to Green Arrow, probably because one way to make two rather nondescript characters stronger is to pair them up. (Again, I don’t mean that as an insult. Green Arrow has always been among my favorite DC heroes. But seriously… he’s a guy who shoots arrows.) The two have been coupled — sometimes married, sometimes not — since the early 1970s. Their stormy relationship has proven to be one of comics’ most enduring love stories, and is a significant part of both characters’ charm.

And speaking of charms…

Can we talk about fishnet stockings for just a moment?

Fishnets have been an identifying hallmark of Black Canary’s costume since her origin. I’m not sure exactly why that is; they hardly seem a practical addition to one’s battle attire. (The Canary’s predecessor and template, the Black Cat, wore buccaneer boots identical to Canary’s, but no hose or tights.) I can only think of one other superheroine who has worn fishnets with any degree of regularity, and that’s Zatanna — for whom it makes sense, because her costume is basically what she wears in her civilian career as a stage magician. (Dr. Strange’s companion Clea wears patterned tights that can, depending on the artist who’s drawing them, look somewhat like fishnets. But they aren’t.)

I’ve always thought the Canary’s fishnets just seemed odd and out of place. The leather jacket and boots I understand — she rides a motorcycle, after all. But why would a top-flight expert in hand-to-hand combat opt for pantyhose from Frederick’s of Hollywood? It boggles the mind. Fishnets seem particularly ill-chosen for a character on a bike. You might want to think about some sturdy trousers there, Ms. Lance. Thighs can be delicate equipment.

For the record, I don’t much care for the look of stockings — fishnet or otherwise — on women in real life, either. I’m probably in the minority here. It’s a taste thing.

I do know that many artists dislike drawing Black Canary specifically because they hate sketching in all those tiny crosshatched lines on her stockings. Several times over the years, I’ve been wandering through Artists’ Alley at a comics convention when a patron requested a drawing of Black Canary, and watched as the artist’s eyes rolled back into (usually his) head. In fact, I recall one occasion where an artist — whom I won’t mention by name, because I like the guy and don’t want to make him sound like a jerk, which he definitely is not — stared pointedly at the customer and grumbled in a weary tone, “Black Canary? Really? Can I just draw her from the waist up?”

One other peculiar note about Black Canary: She is — or at least was, in her original incarnation — one of the most prominent avatars of Clark Kent Syndrome aside from Superman himself. I refer, of course, to the fact that Superman goes about his heroic business with his face unmasked, and yet somehow when he dons Clark Kent’s spectacles, no one recognizes that he’s Superman. (I once read an article that suggested that the Kent protocol works because every nonsuper person in the DC Universe is a complete idiot. There may be some validity to this theory.)

Black Canary’s case was even more extreme. A natural brunette, she disguised herself for crimefighting duty not by covering her face, but by putting on a blonde wig. Just imagine if Tina Turner or Dolly Parton had been superheroines. No one would have ever sussed out their identities. Come to think of it, I’m not entirely certain that Tina Turner isn’t a superhero. More thought required.

For what it’s worth, I think the current iteration of Black Canary is actually blonde 100% of the time. Or as blonde as most blondes are in American culture, anyway. At any rate, I believe she’s wig-free.

And that’s your Comic Art Friday.

When I first began commissioning artworks for my Common Elements series nearly a decade ago, I started a list of character matchups that I thought would make for interesting scenarios. Over the years, I’ve added to that list frequently.

The ideas come from a variety of directions. Sometimes, a pairing simply flashes into my mind from out of the blue, and I rush to the computer to note it before the thought fades from memory. On other occasions, I’ll run across a character in the course of reading some article about comics, and I’ll begin to think of other characters with whom that one might share a “common element.” Still other notions are spawned from a desire to see an artist formerly associated with a particular character revisit that hero or heroine in a whole new light.

It also happens from time to time that planned pairings change. Take, for example, the matchup featured in today’s spotlight artwork by the enormously gifted Steve Erwin. (Click the image above to get a larger and clearer peek at the drawing, in my Comic Art Fans gallery. Go ahead. I’ll wait.)

One of the earliest scenarios I added to my Common Elements “to-do” list involved DC’s Vigilante, the character seen at left above. I only read a handful of Vigilante’s adventures, but I always thought his costume — mostly solid black, with white highlights — was among the most striking in all of comics. I’d originally intended to put him in a scene alongside Marvel’s better-known Punisher, who’s probably comics’ most familiar vigilante antihero (and doubtless one of the inspirations behind Vigilante).

Then one day a few years ago, I happened across a picture of Judge Dredd in my Internet ramblings. For whatever reason, seeing Dredd with pistol in hand reminded me of another gun-toting character who carried the title “Judge” — Vigilante, whose secret identity was criminal court judge Adrian Chase. “Now that’s a cool Common Elements concept,” I thought to myself (because, without the gift of telepathy, I’m really the only person to whom I can think). Off to the CE to-do list I went, and swapped out Punisher in favor of Dredd in the Vigilante scenario. And there the idea sat for a few more years.

Until my good friend and fellow commissioned art collector Damon Owens recommended the services of Steve Erwin.

Steve’s diverse career in comics began in the mid-1980s, when he penciled several issues of Grimjack and Shatter for the late, lamented First Comics. He soon moved on to DC, where his initial assignment was the final three issues of Vigilante — a series which ended with the lead character’s death by suicide. (Hey, just because they’re called comics doesn’t mean they’re all fun and games.) Steve continued at DC with lengthy, well-reviewed runs on Checkmate and Deathstroke the Terminator, as well as several Star Trek licensed comics.

When Steve described to me his idea for this commission, I knew it would be amazing. The finished artwork lived up to the preview, and exceeded it. I’ll let the talented Mr. Erwin describe what you’re seeing, in his own words:

Imagine each character patrolling beside a building (old brick) and round the corner, only to bump into each other. They draw their weapons and aim at each other’s heads. Stalemate. They might each say something to the tune of, “You have been judged.” (Well, Dredd would say that. Chase would try to figure out who this guy is, but size him up quickly as being very dangerous.) Both are judges, so that’s my connection.

The visual is the pair in a Mexican stand-off. Splitting the image between them is the corner of the building. We are looking at the “V” of the corner of the building and can see the wall next to each character, in perspective as it recedes into the background, ending just behind each figure. Beyond that, we see the distant night cityscape of Manhattan (behind Vigilante) and Megacity One (behind Dredd).

I got the idea trying to figure out how they might encounter each other, and I tripped back to my early comics days drawing stories in Grimjack: The city of Cynosure, where dimensions/realities meet. The corner they meet is where their worlds join, at least temporarily.

As noted in the header of this post, Steve titled his creation “Double Jeopardy at Munden’s Bar,” the saloon in Cynosure that Grimjack used as his base of operations. Of course, any title with “Jeopardy” in it is a winner in my book. (For reasons which, by now, I ought not to have to explain.)

Some of my fellow theme commission aficionados think it peculiar that I rarely, if indeed ever, script a specific scenario for artists to follow when drawing a Common Elements piece. Today’s artwork is a perfect demonstration of the reason why I don’t. Would I have come up with an idea as scintillating as the one Steve Erwin devised? Not in a million dimensions. That’s why I prefer to leave the imagineering to the professionals.

But for collectors who choose a different path… hey, I don’t judge.

I leave that to the professionals, too.

And that’s your Comic Art Friday.

You know what has always bugged me about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?

Donatello.

Not the character Donatello. He’s fine.

His name, however, bugs.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Um… it’s giant, anthropomorphic, sentient, talking turtles. Who are mutants. And ninjas. Who eat pizza. And the thing that bugs you about this is the fact that one of them is named Donatello?

Permit me to explain.

All four of the TMNT (because I’m not typing that entire phrase more than once today) have names that reference classical Italian artists. More specifically, Raphael, Michelangelo, and Leonardo (generally referred to these days with the geographical modifier da Vinci) form the so-called “Trinity” of the Italian High Renaissance, a 30-to-40-year period beginning in the 1490s — when Leonardo painted his famous Last Supper — and ending with the sacking of Rome in 1527.

These three geniuses helped elevate the art of painting to new heights; their best-known works remain iconic today. All three also excelled in other art forms, including architecture, sculpture, and engineering. In fact, Leonardo may well have been the most broadly talented individual in human history, and Michelangelo might not have been too far behind him. Raphael’s greatness was more narrowly focused, but his creative output was prolific; he also probably trained more painters than any of the other Italian masters, so his legacy extends far beyond his own works.

But you remember the old Sesame Street game, “One of These Things Is Not Like the Others”?

I give you Donatello.

Donatello doesn’t belong in a group with Raphael, Michelangelo, and Leonardo for three reasons.

First, he wasn’t a painter: Donatello was a sculptor.

Second, as an artist, Donatello was a one-trick pony; he wasn’t also an architect or a painter or a poet or an inventor. He was an excellent sculptor, but that was the boundary of his artistic expression. (Not that there’s anything wrong with being really good at just one thing.)

Third, Donatello’s life and career preceded the High Renaissance by many years. He passed on a good quarter-century before this influential time period began, having shuffled off this mortal coil in 1466. In fact, Leonardo da Vinci was a mere teenager when Donatello died, and Michelangelo and Raphael wouldn’t even be born for another couple of decades.

Do you see what I mean? In the TMNT naming convention, Donatello’s an outlier. And not just a minor outlier — he’s in a whole other category altogether. Okay, he was Italian. But there’s where the similarities end.

I wasn’t in the room when Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird chose the designations for their reptilian heroes. Therefore, I’m not sure why they chose the names they did. If I had to guess, the idea of great Italian artists probably landed on the table, and they picked the first four that came to mind. I’m not sure why, instead of Donatello, they didn’t choose a fourth painter who was actually part of the High Renaissance movement — say, Giorgione or Correggio or Titian (okay, I can guess why they didn’t go with Titian, and it has nothing to do with the fact that his later career extended well beyond the period in question).

But it would have made more sense if they had.

Today’s artwork featuring the TMNT was drawn by Josh Lyman — the comic artist, not Bradley Whitford’s character from The West Wing. I picked it up in an auction sponsored by the Inkwell Awards, a worthy nonprofit organization (headed by comics inker Bob Almond) that seeks to promote appreciation for and understanding of inkers and their unique craft.

For the benefit of those who can’t tell their Turtles without a scorecard (or without color; the TMNT can usually be identified by the color of their accoutrements), clockwise from the top, we have Michelangelo (with the nunchaku), Leonardo (with the swords, or ninjato), Raphael (with the sai), and Donatello (with the bo staff).

Maybe I’ll start calling that last guy Titian, just to be historically accurate. I don’t care if the fanboys snicker.

And that’s your Comic Art Friday.