SwanShadow Thinks Out Loud

I know we just did a riff on Cloak and Dagger not too long ago, but you know how it is in comics — the same tropes keep popping up again and again.

In this Common Elements tableau drawn by the talented Eric Koda, our hero and heroine find themselves confronted by Spy Smasher, a classic stalwart from that thrilling Golden Age of yesteryear. (For those of you who are new here, Common Elements is my series of original commissioned artworks, bringing together unrelated comics characters who share some feature in, well, common.)

Although he’s fallen into relative obscurity now, Spy Smasher was quite a popular hero back in the day — popular enough that Republic Pictures produced a well-received film serial featuring the character. Spy Smasher made his debut in Fawcett Publications’ Whiz Comics #2, the very same issue which presented the premiere of an even more popular hero: the original Captain Marvel.

Like the good Captain, Spy Smasher sprang from the collective imaginations of writer Bill Parker and artist C.C. Beck. Unlike the Captain, Spy Smasher possessed no superhuman or magical abilities. He was simply a skilled investigator named Alan Armstrong, who employed a variety of high-tech tools to track down and thwart covert enemies of the United States of America. (His trademark weapon was a fantastical vehicle called the Gyrosub, which combined the features of a submarine, an airplane, and a car.) You might think of Spy Smasher as a less-bizarre Batman, with a slightly narrower career focus. During the post-World War II years, Spy Smasher changed his code name to Crime Smasher, and broadened his attack to include nefarious ne’er-do-wells of every stripe, not just spies.

When DC Comics bought the rights to the former Fawcett characters in the early 1970s, Spy Smasher began popping up occasionally in stories featuring Earth-S, the alternate Earth where the Fawcett heroes resided before the Crisis on Infinite Earths maxiseries merged all of the Multiverse worlds into one. His most prominent appearances came in the Captain Marvel series, The Power of Shazam. This series depicted Alan Armstrong as a retired hero who befriended Billy and Mary Batson, the alter egos of Captain Marvel and Mary Marvel, respectively.

Because modern comics publishers can never leave well enough alone, there’s now a modernized version of Spy Smasher running around in the DC Universe. The latest edition is a young woman named Katarina Armstrong — I’m not certain, but I’m guessing that she’s Alan’s granddaughter — whose creator, writer Gail Simone, describes her as a sort of female Jack Bauer, the antiterrorist operative portrayed by Kiefer Sutherland in the late, great TV series 24. Katarina mostly hangs out with the distaff crimefighting team Birds of Prey.

Back at last to our featured artwork. It’s easy to understand how a guy who’s looking for spies everywhere might be thrown off by the nomenclature of a team calling themselves Cloak and Dagger. He may, however, be in over his head in this instance. I love Eric Koda’s figure work in this drawing, as well as the personalities with which he imbues his characters.

And that’s your Comic Art Friday.

In recent years, many (indeed, too many) of my longtime comics-artist heroes have shuffled off this mortal coil, never to draw again. The advance of age and ill health has deprived us of many of the greats — Gene Colan, Jim Aparo, Jim Mooney, Dick Giordano, Dave Simons… the list goes sadly on.

Others have left us suddenly, at the height of their powers, and far too soon — Mike Wieringo and Al Rio come immediately to mind.

Still others have retired from commission work, and are thus no longer available to create new treasures for their fans.

Too often, I find myself ruing missed chances to commission these legendary talents. That fact has made me acutely aware of opportunities to connect with my favorites while I can.

When fellow comic art collector Michael Dunne announced the retirement of Frank Brunner some time back, I found myself again kicking myself for not getting a commission from Frank sooner. Luckily for me, Michael passed along a comment I made to him describing the Common Elements scenario I’d have obtained from Frank if I’d acted in time. Frank was intrigued enough by the concept that, though still enjoying his retirement, he accepted my commission.

Am I ever grateful that he did!

Frank designed and drew this power-packed scene depicting his old friend Doctor Strange — whose series Frank drew and co-scripted for a fondly remembered run in the mid-1970s —  alongside colleagues Doctor Mid-Nite and Doctor Druid. Frank also came up with the title of this Common Elements entry, which was so much more clever than the one I’d devised that I’m refraining from mentioning the latter out of sheer embarrassment. (As always, you can click the image above for an enlarged view.)

Both Doctor Strange and Doctor Mid-Nite make their second Common Elements appearances in this masterpiece. The Sorcerer Supreme previously joined the party alongside the Green Lama in James Ritchey III’s Tibetan-themed tableau, while the original sightless superhero duked it out with fellow blind crusader Daredevil in a stunning creation penciled by Ron Wilson and inked by Bob Almond. You can check out both pieces by following the links to my Comic Art Fans gallery.

The newcomer, Doctor Druid, is by far the least well-known of these three physician crimebusters, but he comes equipped with a rather interesting history. He’s one of a handful of Marvel Comics characters (a handful that also includes Captain America and Prince Namor the Sub-Mariner) whose career predates what we traditionally think of as the Marvel Age of Comics, beginning with Fantastic Four #1 (November 1961). He’s also among an even smaller handful of modern Marvel characters (the only other I can think of right off is the giant dragon called Fin Fang Foom) who were co-created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby before the FF went to press.

Originally called Doctor Droom (eventually renamed to avoid confusion with Marvel’s later, but far more famous, supervillain Doctor Doom), Druid is a psychiatrist turned mystic warrior against the supernatural forces of evil. He briefly joined the Avengers in the 1980s, and later led another hero team, the Secret Defenders. Marvel has killed Doctor Druid off a time or two, but you can always count on him coming back, because (a) no one ever stays dead in comics, and (b) you can’t keep a good Druid down.

My sincerest thanks to Michael Dunne for facilitating my introduction to the great Mr. Brunner, and to Frank himself for adding a page to my theme gallery that won’t be topped for some time. If ever.

And that’s your Comic Art Friday.

For my birthday a couple of months back, the Pirate Queen gave me a fistful of cash to put toward new art commissions. That’s what you get for the guy who has… well, not everything, but pretty close.

Wanting to stretch my windfall as far as possible, I turned to fellow collector Damon Owens for counsel. Damon, in addition to boasting a collection that makes me weep every time I compare it with my own, is a master at discovering artists who offer budget-friendly commission rates. Damon responded to my inquiry with a list of artists with whom he’d enjoyed positive commission experiences recently.

At the top of the list was Tod Smith, a name I recognized from his lengthy stint drawing Marvel’s Darkhawk series in the early 1990s. Immediately I thought, Who better than Tod to execute a Common Elements pairing of Darkhawk and the high-flying aviator hero known as Blackhawk?

No one better, as it turns out.

I’ve always had a fondness for teenage superheroes. In the ’90s, Darkhawk represented Marvel’s latest contribution to that long-standing comics tradition. Young Christopher Powell discovered a high-tech amulet that enabled him to switch spatial location with an animated suit of superpowered armor, with which Chris shared a telepathic bond. (If that sounds suspiciously like a pseudoscientific riff on Captain Marvel… well, I didn’t say it was the most original concept ever.) When Chris reclaimed his place in the universe after a fight, the Darkhawk suit beamed to an alien spacecraft, where any damage it incurred was repaired.

In addition to battling evildoers on his own, Chris and his android alter ego hung out on occasion with a team of fellow juvenile crimebusters, the New Warriors. If I recall correctly, Darkhawk was also a member of the Avengers — or was it Avengers West Coast? — for a brief period. (Then again, who hasn’t been in the Avengers?) He was also befriended by Spider-Man, Marvel’s best-known take on the teenage hero theme (although Spidey had long since matured into adulthood by the time he met Darkhawk).

Blackhawk holds the distinction of being one of a handful of characters to leap from the comic book page into other media. At the peak of his popularity during comics’ Golden Age in the 1940s, Blackhawk starred in his own radio drama, as well as a film serial. Pretty impressive, for a guy who’s basically just a fighter pilot in a fancy outfit.

In his original incarnation, Blackhawk was the leader of an international squadron, whose members were portrayed as a colorful collection of ethnic stereotypes. The writers could never quite agree on whether Blackhawk himself was American, or Polish, or an American of Polish heritage (the character was identified as each of the above at various points in his career). After World War II, the squad busied itself combating various non-military threats. During the 1960s, in a misguided attempt to keep the characters relevant, DC temporarily transformed Blackhawk and the boys into superpowered heroes, with such lame code names as “M’sieu Machine” and “Dr. Hands.” (Yikes.) In the most recent reboot of DC continuity (a.k.a. “The New 52”), the Blackhawks have been reinvented as a crack modern-day commando unit (think GI Joe). Me, I still prefer the original.

Tod Smith — who, in his post-Darkhawk career, probably is best known as the longtime artist of the Elvira: Mistress of the Dark comic book — seemed to get a kick out of being reunited with his old friend Darkhawk after a couple of decades. I love it when a plan comes together.

And that’s your Comic Art Friday.

You ever have one of those days when you just wanna scream?

Tyroc and Songbird have those all the time.

A hypersonic scream seems like such a bizarre superpower that it’s actually rather amazing how many comic book characters possess it. In addition to the subjects of the dazzling panel above — commissioned from the pencil of Brazilian artist Peter Vale, whose work has graced such series as Superman, She-Hulk, and X-Men Forever — I can think of several others off the top of my head: Banshee, Silver Banshee (no relation), Angar the Screamer, and at least one version of Black Canary.

Of course, Tyroc had ample reason to scream. The creation of writer Cary Bates and artist Mike Grell, Tyroc’s 1976 debut in Legion of Super-Heroes marked one of the earliest introductions of a black superhero into the DC Comics pantheon. Both Grell and longtime Legion scribe Jim Shooter had lobbied to add a black character to the Legion for several years previously, but DC’s notoriously conservative editorial staff had prevented them from doing so. When DC management finally greenlighted a Legionnaire of African descent, “they did it in the worst way possible,” according to Shooter. Tyroc was assigned a lame superpower, a code name straight out of a blaxploitation film, a racially insensitive origin (a descendant of a black isolationist sect, Tyroc carved a niche as the Marcus Garvey of comics), a stereotypical “angry black man” persona (his debut story was entitled “The Hero Who Hated the Legion”), and (courtesy of Grell, who designed it in protest of everything else he didn’t like about DC’s vision for the character) one of the most ludicrous costumes of the time period — “somewhere between Elvis’s Las Vegas costume and something you would imagine a pimp on the street corner wearing,” as Grell bluntly described it.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view), Tyroc’s tenure in the Legion proved relatively brief. He resurfaced only on rare occasion in the Legion’s periodic rebootings over the next several decades. Although I haven’t sampled the current version of the Legion, I understand that Tyroc is back as a full-fledged member. Hopefully, with a more competent tailor.

Songbird began her career on the wrong side of justice. Originally code-named Screaming Mimi, she debuted as a member of the Grapplers, a cadre of female wrestlers turned supervillains. Mimi and her cohorts battled Ben Grimm — a.k.a. The Thing — in a couple of fondly remembered issues of Marvel Two-in-One. After a subsequent stint in another team of criminals, the Masters of Evil, Mimi joined yet a third sinister enterprise, the Thunderbolts, and adopted her new fighting identity as Songbird. Over time, the Thunderbolts transitioned from bad guys to underground heroes, and they remain on the straight and narrow (more or less) to this day.

And that’s your Comic Art Friday.

We’re not fully two weeks into 2012, and already it’s been an exciting art year at the new Casa de Swan.

Here’s the first of several reasons why.

I frequently discuss with other comic art collectors our approaches to our theme commissions. Many of my fellow hobbyists present elaborately detailed scenarios to the artists they commission, to ensure that the end result matches the collector’s vision. I know of at least one collector who actually writes a script for each piece he commissions.

There’s nothing at all wrong with that approach. In fact, it greatly appeals to the obsessive control freak in me. Over the years, however, I’ve developed a far more laissez-faire tactic toward my commissioning. I generally prefer to simply give the artist reference images of the character(s) to be drawn, then stand back and turn the artist loose.

This works well on a number of fronts:

• Since I don’t know in advance what the artist will draw, there’s an element of anticipation and mystery while I wait for the commission to be completed.
• It eliminates back-and-forth argument with the artist: “No, that’s not what I wanted; do it this way.”
• Creative people in general — and I consider myself one — dislike having their imaginative impulses constrained by someone else’s vision. (Imagine a patron standing over Picasso’s shoulder and kibitzing, “Shouldn’t her eyes be on opposite sides of her head? Why is everything blue? That looks like my five-year-old nephew painted it.”) Allowing the artist more freedom usually means that he or she enjoys the creative process more, which in turn means that he or she feels more inspired toward excellent work.
• I’m not a visual thinker, so inventing pictures in my head doesn’t come easily to me. Artists being visual thinkers means that the pictures they dream up will invariably be better than my clumsy attempts.

The artwork above, drawn by the insanely talented Sean Chen — best known for his work on such comics as Iron Man and Wolverine — illustrates the advantages of my commission philosophy. (As always, you can click on the image — or on this link — for a larger, more detailed view. Go ahead. You know you want to.)

When I assigned Sean the Common Elements pairing of Angel (from Marvel’s original X-Men lineup) and Halo (from DC’s Batman and the Outsiders), I had no clue how he would utilize these two characters. In fact, our initial discussion about a possible layout revolved around a completely different scenario. Thus, when I first saw this beautifully executed riff on Michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam, I was blown away. It would never have occurred to me to suggest this concept. Furthermore, had I gone into the project with a tightly defined idea already in mind, Sean might never have presented this one.

Best of all, Sean had fun coming up with this scenario and bringing it to fruition, so both artist and patron love the result. I like it when the artists I commission are happy.

Again, there wouldn’t have been anything wrong with taking a more hands-on approach to this commission. I’d have still gotten a terrific piece of art from Sean had I instructed him exactly what to draw.

But I wouldn’t have gotten this.

And that’s your Comic Art Friday.