José Villarrubia: From a Colorist's Perspective

I know I just wrote only a few days ago that the less time we spend on social media, the better. I still stand by it, but I must also admit when people are using them right.

José Villarubia is one of those people.

My first encounter with this gentleman's work was on the pages of the ABC comic book line, written by Alan Moore (who else?).

He is an exeptionally talented artist, photographer and colorist and particularly in this last capacity he has made an incredible contribution to the field with his facebook posts about colors in comics.

I hope he'll manage to organize these into a lecture or an extensive article someday. For the time being, you can enjoy his insights via his Facebook photo album

From a Colorist's Perspective

In many of these posts he also tackles the issue of recoloring older comic books, which is a fascinating subject to me but also criminally neglected.

Well, ok, it's not a crime to ignore the subject, but how come there is a seizable awareness about the importance of preservation and presentation of film and music (with discussions about formats, supports, mastering techniques, accuracy) but almost none about comics?

¡Que viva José! then, who delivered possibly the first serious contribution to the field of comic book coloring studies.

Make sure you read his notes and all the comments, where the discussion gets juicy.

Ther Terminator vs. Ranxerox

In a recent conversation with czech comic book historian Pavel Korinek, we remarked how the field of comic book studies offers vast horizons for research; as opposed to other arts that have been endlessly analyzed and written over.

Up until now, comic book history and aesthetics have ben covered mostly by fans rather than academics (it's a gross over simplification, but it's true that the majority of in-depth books and articles about comic books have been written primarily by fans or insiders). 

And while fans and aficionados can be incredibly precise about certain details of their favorite subject matter, at the same time they do not apply rigorous standards when it comes to vet their sources.

The situation is anyway improving every year: there is more care, more substantial journalism, more academic research, and the possibility to cross-check information with a lot of ease thanks to the internet (although, the internet plays a major role in spreading inaccuracies as it does in divulgating knowledge).

One seminal publication for me was the italian Marvel anthology STAR MAGAZINE.

Alongside italian translations of Marvel Comics material, this magazine used to cover many aspects of the medium in reviews, retrospectives or interviews (and to the magazine's credit, not only focusing in about Marvel stuff).

Those columns were like a primer for my interest in comic book history.

However I had to recently think about one specific bit of information found in the article "Cinema & Comicworld" from STAR MAGAZINE issue 22, July 1992 (page 91):

"James Cameron openly stated to have modelled the features of his Terminator on Ranxerox, created by Stefano Tamburini and Tanino Liberatore"

The art in the article supports this connection.

Is this true? Did this underground italian comic serve as inspiration for the ultra-popular franchise?

In a video about the making of The Terminator James Cameron claims to have got the idea for his unstoppable robot killer from a dream he had while filming Piranha 2 around 1982, in Rome.

That would put Cameron in Italy right in the period when Ranxerox was being published.

If one considers that Mr. Cameron has been less than transparent about how much inspiration he drew from a couple of Harlan Ellison stories for instance, and if one compares the looks of two characters, the claims seems legit.

The resemblance is undeniably there, both in concept and appearance.

However, I have an hard time believing it.

First of all, I have never found any interview with Cameron confirming that. It looks like this notion is being passed among bloggers, columnists and artists, but is still unsourced. A quote attributed to Stefano Tamburini, creator of Ranxerox, also circulates in a similar unsourced fashion (supposedly the creator Stefano Tamburini lamented the lack of credit, saying that Cameron could have at least bought him a cup of coffie).

Secondly, it is also known that Cameron wrote the role of the Terminator for actor Lance Henriksen: in Cameron's initial pitch the robot was supposed to look like an nondescript, unimpressive human.

Casting Arnold in the role was happenstance: after becoming a star thanks to Conan the Barbarian, the Austrian bodybuilder had enough clout to demand and obtain the title role in the film, something the producers were happy to indulge, but with which Cameron had problems, as it would have completely blown his concept of an average-looking killer.

However, he went along and the rest is history.

But if that were the case, how does the Ranxerox connection fit the narrative?

Is the resemblance of the two characters just a coincidence?

This post doesn't close the case in any way. I think it would be fun to further research this connection, but if the burden of proof lies with the accuser, then Tamburini (who has passed away since 1986) should have brought more arguments and every other reporting the story should better check his or her sources.

Will Eisner

Recently visited the Will Eisner exhibit at the BSC in Brussels.

My companion during the visit was the always nice Steven De Rie, who was warned by some fellow cartoonist not to expect much from the exhibition, since most of the samples  came from a single private collection.

I ignore what kind of show this other cartoonist expected, but the exhibit was really well done.

Sure there was a relatively little from The Spirit to see (only a handful of splash-pages) but the selections form the master's later works such as Dropsie Avenue, The Name of the Game or A Contract with God were substantial and diverse (not to mention practically the complete The Dreamer, a book that holds a very special place in my heart).

The pieces were accompanied by large panels of commentaries from the curators and some printed magazines froma all over the world.

If any criticism can be made about the exhibition is the scarcity of prep material such as sketches and/or scripts (it would have been interesting to see how the Spirit stories were plotted, scripted and then realized, especially beacuse the process involved other artists or writers).

Some more photographs may have helped too and it would have been great to have a screen or two playing excerpts from the various Eisner docs that DO exist.

Anyway, this should not be missed by any comic book lover who has the chance to visit Brussels or its surroundings.

The exhibition lasts until March the 2nd 2014. Entrance fee is 8 euros, but it buys the access to the whole museum (which is always worth the price)

PS: very very very nice chit-chat with Steven De Rie after the visit about all things comics. 

Stan Lee 1922-2018

On November 12, 2018, Stan Lee, born Stanley Martin Lieber, passed away.

He almost made it to the 100 years mark.

I had the chance to meet Stan Lee in Lucca, twenty-five years ago, long before the main italian comic con became the "sponsored chinese sideshow" of today (copyright: Maurizio Caschetto).

He was promoting the Marvel 2099 line of comics and he talked to a relatively small but enthusiastic audience about how Marvel Comics were more scientifically sound than DC's. 

He used to love Superman, for instance, because in the beginning he could leap across great distances thanks to his superior strength, and that was somewhat acceptable.
But then he just flew, with no reason whatsoever.
Whereas Thor does not fly. Thor rotates his hammer until it has enough momentum, then throws it and just exploits the pull of the hammer to fly ("Now, THAT's scientific!" he would joke).

Or he would tell about how puzzled he was when his assistant informed him that some "Mr. Felony" was there to meet him and about his surprise when he discovered it was none other than italian film director Federico Fellini.

I was but an 8th grader and listened in awe.

When asking (and getting) his autograph, my dear friend Alessandro Minoggi and I showed him the opening splash-page of a Spidey story we made, in our first attempt to create proper comics (on decent artist's board and using rapidographs). He smiled and nodded approvingly, which made us feel like a million dollar.
To the 13-years-old me, the avuncular Stan Lee seemed rather grandfatherly and I would not have thought back then that a quarter century later he would still be such a felt a presence in comicdom.

He leaves behind a great legacy, albeit a problematic one.

His passing, curiously not much later than Spider-Man co-creator Steve Ditko's, signifies the definitive end of an era, although it probably won't shift much the conversation among fans and historians about who should get what credit for the creation of the characters and stories that, still to this day, constitute the foundations of the so-called Marvel Universe.

Writing lesson from Chuck Dixon

I wonder why I did not share this before.

I've already written extensively about by love for the late Argentinian artist JORGE ZAFFINO, whom I consider a true master of comics.

In the US, Zaffino worked at many reprises with writer Chuck Dixon, a veteran of american comics, with thousands of stories under his belt and mostly known as the writer who created Batman's villain Bane.

To me, the height of their collaboration was reached on the one-shot book Seven Block, first published for Epic, a now defunct Marvel Comics imprint for more mature, creator-owned material.

The book has been reprinted in black and white by IDW, but seems to be unfortunately out-of-print.

Like much of Dixon's output, it is basically a genre-piece, in this case horror (but Dixon is as well-versed in fantasy, action, adventure and more), but elevated by the impeccable execution of both script and art.

A necessary remark: for all the praise I have for the script, it must be said that the art is crucial nonetheless. The same script drawn by a lesser artist would be robbed of its power. Think of a great movie script badly acted or poorly directed.

When I re-read the book a few years back, I was surprised by the clarity in the storytelling; when I discovered that Dixon was reachable via his own website and via facebook, I got in touch and asked him a few questions specifically about this piece of work.

He was kind enough to answer, but until now I did not think of sharing this exchange with the rest of the world.

I think it provides some useful insights for storytellers and for anyone aspiring to a career in comics.

(note: The following text has been redacted in interview form for readability)

Q: Lately I've been studying Seven Block: would there be the chance to have look to the original script?

A: The original script was many, many hard drives ago. In fact, it may actually have been typewritten.

Q: I love Zaffino's art in it, but I've also noticed how well-paced it is: I've noticed most "sequences" fits neatly in one page and even when they are 2 or 3 pages long, the action is broken down so that every page has a strong dramatic unity. Did you work with that precise structure in mind and worked every scene until they reached the desired length?

A: I usually try to keep the dramatic beats to one page in any of my stories. I think it makes it easier to follow and allows me to avoid "Meanwhile back at the ranch" type captions. 

The reader unconsciously picks up on the rhythm and knows that a new scene may start when they turn the page. But each page ended on a suspenseful or dramatic note to draw the reader forward and make turning the page as irresistible as I could make it. And it was Jorge who turned those pages into the masterworks of comic art that they are. He always made me look like a genius. Jorge and I were very simpatico despite the language barrier. In the first draft of Seven Block I had the black doctor tell one of his compatriots to "go f--- himself". My editor felt this language was too strong so I removed the line and didn't provide a replacement. I simply had the doctor walk away without saying anything. That's the script that Jorge worked from. But when I got the finished art I was surprised to se that Jorge had drawn the doctor giving the finger as he walked away. He knew what the scene needed without knowing about the stricken line. 

Q: I love also how essential is the information you give to the reader. There is no use of captions, dialogue is straight to the point. With the sole exception of a dialogue between the two doctors at one point (necessary to download some info about the history and purpose of the experiment) there is no trace of expository dialogue. It sounds very casual and real. How you make sure there is enough for the reader to follow the plot?

A: My treatment of dialogue and plotting comes from studying the films of Howard Hawks. Each of his movies, regardless of genre, seems to flow effortlessly from event to event without the sense that there is a creative hand guiding everything. His dialogue rarely speaks of the plot yet informs us about character in a way that keeps the story clear and progressing. It wasn't until I read his biography that I learned that none of these things were accidents. Hawks worked very hard to conceal the fact that he was telling a story and allowed events to proceed as naturally as possible from scene to scene. Most scenes would serve at least two purposes and there was never a wasted moment.

HBO's WATCHMEN (part 2)

I'll try here to describe in quick fashion Alan Moore's soured relationship with what can be described as the "mainstream entertainment conglomerates".

It is a long and winding road, I had to cut it down or I'd still be writing.

And so that you know where I'm coming from: I"m on Moore's side all the way in this.

--

It's 1988. after a successful run on The Saga of the Swamp Thing, various Superman and Batman stories, the seminal Watchmen and the conclusion of V for Vendetta Moore terminate his collaboration with DC comics.

He was never an employee, always worked for hire, but his stature was such that he was granted a special treatment and, not least, he was given royalties.

Such conditions were extended to other artists at the time and a tidal turn in the way artists were treated seemed to be at hand.

Nonetheless, Moore is not satisfied, disagreements arise and Moore leaves. 

Moore accuses DC of unfair tactics. The publisher is keeping Watchmen and V for Vendetta unusually long in print, meaning the rights are not being returned to the creators.

To be fair, Watchmen is a far greater hit than anyone expected, and expectations were high. 

Keeping the book in print is not that surprising, but Moore sees it as a way to swindle the creators and not renegotiate further publishing.

Moore sticks to his promise to never work for DC again until 1998.

Moore is developing the America's Best Comics line for Jim Lee's Wildstorm, but right before the line should make its debut, Wildstorm is bought wholesale by DC.

The legal implications are such that the new line of books will be OWNED by the publisher, and the creators will only receive royalties. Moore weighs the idea to scrap the whole project but since everything (and everyone) is ready for take off, he decides not to nullify his contract, as it would leave the other artists involved abruptly unemployed.

He's assured he will be given complete creative freedom but alas, DC eventually start to objects to some, albiet minor, things.

Further signs of trouble occur when the movie adaptation of From Hell, directed by the Huges brothers, is released among mild reviews.

While borrowing some visuals and the overall conspiracy plot from the book (but not without changes and significant simplifications) and in spite of the excellent casting of the incommensurable Ian Holm as doctor William Gull, that picture fails to summon either the tone or depth of the book.

Moore does not mind all that much; surely he isn't the first victim of poor Hollywood adaptations and won't be the last.

But things change after the release of 20th Century Fox's LXG, and adventure movie featuring a team-up of Victorian literary characters.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/3141720.stm

Screenwriters/producers Martin Poll and Larry Cohen claim the paternity of the idea: back in the nineties the duo shopped a script around in Hollywood called Cast of Characters, which had a similar premise, and one of the studios they pitched the idea to was Fox.

The problem? That LXG is actually based on the ABC comic book series The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, penned by Moore and illustrated by Kevin O'Neill.

(to my recollection the book was optioned by Fox even before the first issue was published by DC)

The case Poll and Cohen try to make is that Fox, interested in developing the idea, secretly commissioned the comic book series to Alan Moore, so that they could then turn it in to a movie asserting it was a different property than Cast of Characters.

I'm not an expert on Hollywood politics, I do not know whether such a scenario ever occurred in history, setting therefore a precedent for Poll and Cohen's claim, but it strikes me as a silly and unnecessarily convoluted plot.

Why would Fox steal the idea from somebody, only to give it to someone else they would then have to pay royalties to? Not to mention the need to commission a new adapted screenplay?

I suppose the real contentious is the intellectual property. The scheme, if true, would allow Fox to essentially own the idea of a Victorian heroes team-up without paying royalties in perpetuity to the people who came up with the idea.

But Fox does not own the IP. They only purchased the movie rights to the book, while all other rights remained with the creators (the only title in the ABC comic book line to enjoy this statute).

And besides, all the characters used were public domain.

Moore's version (essentially "I came up with the idea myself"), is also more believable: after all the series shares its core conceit of teaming up Victorian literary characters with an earlier Moore creation, Lost Girs. On top of that, the League also fits with the overall idea behind the entire ABC line it is part of, which was: to create a new line of super hero books based on concepts that pre-date Superman.

The lawsuit drags for a while, Alan Moore is asked to testify, which he does in a 10-hours hearing session.

"If I had raped and murdered a schoolbus full of retarded children after selling them heroin, I doubt that I would have been cross-examined for 10 hours" he will later joke. 

The whole experience leaves Moore, if not disgusted, at the very least tired of Hollywood, so he decides to go for a grand gesture. From this moment on he will refuse to get any money or credit from adaptations: "Take my name off it, and give all money to artists".

This happens right when the V for Vendetta movie is announced. Moore sticks with his decision, but since his detachment from the adaptation is not good for PR for the upcoming movie, the filmmakers release a false statement in which Moore is said to be excited about the project.

Moore gets mad, DC does not quite amend, so he decides to terminate (once again) any relationship with DC. He ends the ABC line and take The League to another publisher.

Anno 2007. The long-announced Watchmen movie start actual pre-production after years of development hell.

Interesting to notice: Moore had played nice with regards of this adaptation up until that point. He praised a first draft penned by Sam Hamm in the eighties and even released a few "nonbelligerent" statements in 2000.

Moore would be fine with his "no credit, no money" policy, but a series of moves by DC are the last straw.

Moore goes from politely disagreeable to "spitting venom all over it". 

He further cuts any relationship with Watchmen co-creator Dave Gibbons and DC editor Karen Berger.

(read Moore's lengthy -very lengthy- account here)

After this DC basically stops bothering about upsetting Moore and start exploiting the hell out of Watchmen with prequels (Beyond Watchmen), sequels (Doomsday Clock) and later it starts incorporating ABC characters in the DCU.

(to be continued)

I did not even know it was Ben Day (rather than Benday)...

This is a quickie to write, but if you love the subject, it will be a very long and interesting dive.

Here below are the links to the most exhaustive series of articles I have ever found on the old "Ben Day" coloring technique used in comic strips and comic books for nearly seven decades.

It concentrates mostly on the birth of the technique and old material, but it is well researched and documented.

I have a particular fondness for the old "dots".

Kudos to the blog, Legion of Andy and its author Guy Lawley

• Part 1 — Roy Lichtenstein — the man who didn’t paint Ben Day dots
• Part 2 — Halftone dots, Polke dots, more Roy
• Part 3 — CMYK / Four-colour comic book dots vs. RGB dots on screens
• Part 4 — Pre-history, origins — Ben Day in the 19th century
• Part 5 — Ben Day in lithography
• Part 5.5 — French comic strips of the 1880s. Coloured by relief aquatint.
• Part 5.75 — A lithographic protocomic (?) from 1885
• Part 6 — Ben Day meets the Sunday Comics in the 1890s
• Part 6.1 — Tarzan and the Ben Day Dots—secrets of 1930s comic strip colour
• Part 6.2 — Fun With (Mis-)Registration—when colour printing plates don’t line up
• Part 7 — The Birth of the Comic Book
• Part 8 — 1930s to 1950s - The golden age of comics

HBO's WATCHMEN (part 1)

So, DamonLindelof is working on an adaptation of WATCHMEN for HBO.

Sound like good news, isn’t it?

Damon Lindelof never hid his appreciation of Moore & Gibbons’ seminal comic book mini-series, which clearly influenced LOST (the non-linear structure, the mythology showcased through faux-documents, the multi-character perspective, often showing the same events from different points of view, the vonnegutian time-traveling consciousness and so on).

Besides, I didn’t dislike LOST at all, even the much-hissed last season.

I always thought the show was an experiment in story telling excess: how many twists can a plot sustain? How many double-triple-quadruple crosses are possible (both within the story and within the STRUCTURE of the story).

If the whole point was to create an almost endless series of mysteries, wrapped in riddles, inside an enigma (this is a quote), then the show delivered.

And isn’t a mini –series on HBO the natural fit for a story like WATCHMEN? Dark, edgy, detailed, ornate? Didn’t HBO produce THE WIRE, which Alan Moore publicly praised?

And while people can have problem with Zack Snyder’s turgid adaptation from 2009, doesn’t the fidelity to the details of that version bid well for any other future adaptation? Any other creative team will be forced to either approximate that level of accuracy at some level or at least replace it with something equally worthy.

Well: no, no and no.

As a general rule, any news about an adaptation of Alan Moore’s work cannot be good news.

1) I'm kind of wary of adaptations in general and particularly of works with a very high reputation or that are regarded as pinnacles in a particular art form.

It is possible that not all arts are created equal.

Some art forms do not have to put up with adaptations. Nobody will ever make a movie out of Beethoven's 5th symphony (now that I think of it, maybe someday someone will).

Other art forms, like the stage play, or the radio play, can probably translate very well in to other forms.

I suppose that fiction has an inherent "cross-adaptability" and the same material can be presented on stage, on the written (or drawn) page or on the silver screen.

But would anybody think of making a literary adaptation of Hitchcock's Vertigo or Welles'  Citizen Kane that would rival in WORTHINESS with the original?

Landmark works in art are usually not such because of the material or the plot, but rather because of the execution, and brilliant executions usually take advantage of the specifics of the art form in question.

Which brings me to point >

2) WATCHMEN is such a work. It does things that are only possible in the art form of comics, making thus any attempt to adapt the work possibly pointless.

Unless the original work is used as a starting point to build something different. If this is the case, then I have a lot less of an issue. This has happened repeatedly in history. Often such adaptation change a LOT from the material, even the title and that is a sign that the adaptation is something DIFFERENT.

Of course this makes only sense in a world where the WATCHMEN adaptation is happening for art's sake. If the writers and producers were simply attempting to create a great work of art out of another work of art.

But we all know that this is not the case. 

I will allow some bona fide intentions to Lindelof and the producers, but I think we all know what is the reasoning behind this upcoming series: we have a valuable IP and we want to turn it in to a hype, in the wake of productions like Marvel/Netfilx series or Games of Thrones.

--

Why shouldn't they, though?

This won't replace or obliterate the original comic book, on the contrary, it will probably rekindle the interest in it. And there is a demand for it, from fans!

That's another problem. I cannot stand this hunger for FILMED adaptation of comics or books we love. As if it is necessary to us. I do not need a movie to portray what's been in my imagination. If anything, the ones who should be attracted to adaptations are people who are NOT familiar with the material.

--

But anyway, the biggest argument against any adaptation of Moore's work has to do with the history of Alan Moore's relationship with DC/Time Warner.

Up until 2003 Alan Moore had no major issues with having his work adapted. Partially because he understood that it was the nature of the game in the writing business (any sensible writer will tell you that film options and film rights are one of the most substantial sources of revenue for a writer), partially because back in the day, comic book adaptations were not that big of a deal as they have become since. He thought there was little harm in getting paid for options and having a studio developing an adaptation, because most of the time the project would get stuck in development.

In those years Moore used to play along; back in 1990 he even gave Sam Hamm's draft for a WATCHMEN some credit, even though it changed a lot of stuff from the comic. I suppose he was just being nice.

Even after Moore's relation with DC had soured (not lastly because of DC's little trick played in order to keep the publishing rights on WATCHMEN) the author had no fundamental issues with adaptations, as long as he could distance himself and was not demanded to participate in the promotion.

One of the first adaptations to be actually produced was a Justice League episode based on "For the Man Who Has Everything", a Superman annual story written by Moore and illustrated by Dave Gibbons, which has always been regarded as one of the character's best.

Moore has reportedly been generous towards this adaptation. and furthermore it was a story involving a character he himself did not invent.

Things started to get bad after the From Hell and the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen movies. They were both critical and box office disappointments, and deservedly so.

Moore probably started getting wary of his name being associated with bad movies rather that with the FAR FAR superior original material.

But still, he seemed cool enough, and quoted Raymond Chandler when people questioned him about his work getting ruined, showing them shelves full of his books and saying: "See? The movies did not ruin my work. It is still here."

But then things got bad after the lawsuit.

(continued)

Spidey, Lee, Kirby, Chabon, factoids and pics

I didn't know about this interesting story appeared in the New York Post

Long story short: Spider-Man name and outfit could have been inspired by an Halloween costume produced by the company Ben Cooper, Inc.

Nobody actually claims it and it could be a bit of a stretch, but there are some clues that make this theory fascinating.

1) The outfit has a webbed motif, and the mask presents a spider-web centered between the two holes for the eyes.

2) The name Spider-Man was printed on the suit

3) The model was discontinued by the company, who replaced it in their catalog with an actual licensed Spider-Man costume, the first licensed Spider-man product (or maybe even Marvel's first licensed product) in early 1963, long before Spider-Man reached popularity.

4) In his book The Silver Age of Comic Book Art Arlen Schumer claims that the creation of the Hulk may have been the popularity of the Frankenstein 1961 toy, which displayed a green-skinned creature on the box (hence the mandate to color Hulk green, instead of its original grey) - This as well is an assumption, not supported by any evidence, but if true, it reinforce the idea that Marvel was not shy of picking up ideas and trends from toy producers

I must stand with Ditko, who rebuts the "accusations" (if we can call them) and says that clippings alone do not equal proof. Besides, Spider-Man suit design, however unusual, is very much in line with other Ditko stuff.

---

On the theme of creatorship and credit, I discovered Michael Chabon has written a short story about two ageing comic book creators, who essentially are a thinly-disguised fictional version of Lee and Kirby.

I haven't read the story... yet.

More on it soon.

---

It was John Romita's idea to kill Gwen Stacy.

---

This Supergirl illustration is beautiful.

A long essay about INKING

Still swamped by family and work obligation that keep me away from the drawing board, I try to move things along anyway.

I had plenty of story ideas, didn’t need a new one, but a friend of my challenged me by passing me a short poem and challenging me to make a comic out of it.

I took the challenged and scripted the thing in a couple of days.

I did some preliminary sketching and now I’m off to the actual drawing.

Funny thing is that the opening panel (that has now become the opening splash page) is the hardest thing in the whole story.

So I’m taking my time with it, not wanting to mess it up right off the start.

And of course I’m already fearing the moment I’ll have to ink the mofo.

I’m a pretty bad inker. My good friend Taiyo still satirizes me about it. And for a reason.

I tried to look at the masters to see what I can pick from them, but still I felt very much like a guy on a first date as described by Louis CK: “A blind dick in space, thrusting into infinite directions”.

And it’s not that I don’t know what style I want to work with (which is a problem, but a problem I do not want to solve by just picking one style and sticking to it, but rather through sheer perseverance to find MY style).

It’s that I don’t know what I’m doing when I ink. Am I tracing? Am I drawing? Am I improvising?

I often thought it was the pencils. Should they be tight? OR not? It’s the pen or brush I’m using?

So I sat down. And started to think.

And suddenly I think I have it.

It’s about RENDERING.

The comic art I grew up on and I still love, it’s as much a product of the artists as it is a product of the limitation of reproduction techniques (and I’m no longer talking about vision-challenged genitalia).

The solid black line art so typical of comics was dictated by the inadequate printing tools and the poor paper used for comic books and newspapers for many decades.

Because of this, artists had to develop this specific graphical language that could suggest reality.
Out of this necessity a sort of “grammar of the lines” was born, a grammar stillin use today.

This "grammar" was further advanced by the fact that comic books were printed in colors. Cross hatching, dry brushing and other visual devices were no longer used to represent different tones. This solid-black-lines-based style emphasize CONTOURS rather then TONE VALUES and somehow cemented in my mind the idea that LINES were the fundation of the art.
.

Well, WRONG.

 IT IS ALL ABOUT RENDERING.

I've written it large and centered, so I won't forget it.
I should put it on a cue card and place it above my desk.

Of course there are a whole lotta elements that need be there in an illustration or a panel: composition, anatomy, body language, use of negative space and so on.

Cartoonists should better be good at a LOT of things that do not always come together.

But when time comes to finish an illustration, rendering is vital.

Hair, tone, textures, reliefs, clothing. The ink drawing has to suggest the tone, rather than draw the contour.

So I have come up with 4 tips, four exercises for myself first, but hopefully for anyone who may be struggling with inking.

1) Practice ALLA PRIMA ink drawings.
Either copying other artists' stuff, or photographs, or out of your own head, practice drawing with no pencil drawing or sketch underneath (maybe just a few marks to get the proportions right).
This should help developing this skills
a) build up confidence, which usually translates in fresher, more appealing drawings
b) train you to think in terms of final inked art.

2) Copy the artists you like the most and whom you consider the best inkers IN PENCILS
Since my issue in particular with pencils art that does not instruct or even suggest much about the actual final inked rendering, I decided to do some reverse engineering and train myself to think in terms of final art FROM THE PENCILING STAGE.

Make the pencil pass not only about getting the proportions, the pose, the expressions right, but be mindful of what the final art will need.

3) Shamelessy rip-off shorthand ways to do stuff.
My shortcomings as an inker come across more blatantly with some aspects rather than others.
One way around this is locating those problem areas (rendering of hair, thickness of contour lines, placement of shadows) and JUST COPY SOLUTIONS from artists you think solve those problems brilliantly.
This approach in general can be applied to a lot of other aspects, not only the inks, but layouts as well.
I do not see much disgrace in borrowing or even stealing solutions from the masters. There is a downside, though: this way you do not think about how the artist came up with his/her shorthand way of rendering something in the first place. And lack of knowledge or awareness usually translates in poorer art and will limit your range when faced with a new problem you cannot find a solution for in one of your masters' ouvre.

4) Don't do anything.
Which seems pretty much a in contradiction with what I just written, but stay with me for a second will ya?
While my inking has been mocked since those distant school days, my skills as a draftsman received some praise. This is not the place to brag or even defend my work, but I think it's safe to assume I have some skills and that my sketches do have some value.
Since modern technology does no longer require inking in solid black and white, why bother? Why not just use the techniques I'm most comfortable with OR just do with INK what I do with pencils or any other tool, without the urge to learn how to render?
Play to my strengths.

I should give this a try.

I suppose I just need practice and that improvements will come as a result of all of the above.

I'm not certain this long rambling made any sense to anyone other than myself, but I really needed to put it down.

Here below some links.

this tutorial is so far one of the best I've ever found.
Even the greatest masters are often unable to deconstruct and rationalize about their own processes, making art teaching a very rare skill
MAD illustrator Tom Richmond has the ability to break it down in a very accessible and straightforward language and deals with the "pressure" element of inking with actual ink (the irreversibility of the process makes it often a bit scary) using tools like brushes and quills which we do not use much in "real life".

http://www.tomrichmond.com/2006/08/21/inking-tutorial-part-i/
http://www.tomrichmond.com/2006/08/22/inking-tutorial-part-ii/

It is not like taking a class or practicing, but it provides some very good insights.

The following tutorial by Joe Kubert suffers from some of the flaws I was writing about: Kubert is not breaking down HOW he does it, but even only watching a master at work is of some help.