RIP Jeffrey Catherine Jones.

It was with a little surprise and a heavy heart that I read, first on Twitter then elsewhere as it was confirmed, that Jeffrey Catherine Jones passed away from, as Heidi MacDonald reported it, "complications from emphysema and bronchitis" at age 67 yesterday. Pardon me if I reminisce, OK?

The first place I saw Jones' work was probably in the 4th issue of The Monster Times; early on in that storied publication's history they were soliciting art and one-page stories from the likes of Berni Wrightson, Gray Morrow, Frank Brunner, and Jones. They would run them in the center spreads of the tabloid-style publication:

I suppose this would have been 1975-ish that I read it, though this story was dated 1971 and appeared in 1972. I didn't get my first issue of TMT until 1974, and I would have received this as part of a big package of Timeses that I spent about a summer's worth of allowance on. My memory being a bit fuzzy on some things, I don't recall when I saw my first issues of National Lampoon, in which Jones' excellent one-page strip Idyl ran. That most certainly would have been the second time I became aware of his work, I'm sure, unless I happened up on a friend's copy of NatLamp or perhaps stood at the magazine rack at the convenience store and read them as I was wont to do for a while (I was always nervous about asking my folks for money to buy a copy, or even to buy one with my own money and bring it home) before I started my TMT habit.

By the time I had reached 18, I had become aware of the amazing art book The Studio, which was also the name of both the location and the collective that Jones, Mike Kaluta, Berni Wrightson, and Barry Windsor-Smith had formed when they shared studio space in the 70's. Four artists whose work I admired above almost all others, together! I especially loved Kaluta and Wrightson, who had blown me away with their art on a number of projects, especially The Shadow and Swamp Thing, respectively, about five years earlier. Of course, Windsor-Smith's Conan was a favorite, as well as his later, ornate Pre-Raphaelite-influenced works, and then there was that Jones fella, who I remembered from Idyl and a bunch of paperback book covers. Believe me, I lived in that book for a long time, and copied and studied each page, back when I thought I could be an artist.

I was utterly fascinated with Jones' signature; that single letter "J", curved with the line across the top, and fitting stylishly within a loose square, looked as cool as anything I'd ever seen before. Yeah, bet your ass I copied it; after all, we did share a name. Eventually, I at least dropped the loose square, though to this day I really emphasize the J when I sign my infrequent doodles.

One of Jones' contributions was perhaps my favorite piece from any of the artists, the beguiling "In a Sheltered Corner":

I wish I had a dollar for every time I sat down with a piece of paper and attempted to draw that face, with those lips.

I mean, geez, look at these guys:

Jones is second from left. They looked just like rock stars- rock stars that could generate art masterpieces. That was exactly what I wanted to be at age 18. Exactly.

Anyway, after that, I kinda lost track of Jones and his work. While he appeared in Heavy Metal in the 80's (with a new Idyl-ish feature called I'm Age) I'd see it here and there with less frequency as the decades went by; I just assumed (as one, well, me anyway in those pre-Internet times when the goings and comings of the art/writing heroes was more difficult to keep up with) that he had found regular illustration and painting gigs in places that I didn't see. Of course, I read about his gender issues and his eventual 1998 hormone replacement therapy sessions; several years later (now I had the Internet, y'see) I read about her awful financial issues. Eventually, these seemed to get worked out, and I was proud to cite Jones among my Facebook friends; she posted an always-welcome stream of artworks both old and new. Eventually health issues became too much for her, and now she's gone.

I suppose that's just part of the price one pays for living on; one will see his or her heroes and people he or she admires pass away before them, even people who one still imagines, in their heart of hearts, to be still young and still strong and vital. Even though recent pics told another story, in my mind's eye I saw Jones and her work in the same way that I did at age 16, in 1976, and it saddens me no end to see people who I looked up to like that get old and die. Pushes me, slowly, another foot towards the grave myself.

All that's over now for Jones, and I'll be eternally grateful for the magnificent art. May she rest in peace, and I hope she's found a measure of happiness wherever she is.

Credit where credit is due dept: I got most of the scans I posted here from these fine websites. Please visit them as often as you can, they're good people.

ETA: Not long after I posted this, Tom Spurgeon posted his outstanding obit. Go check it out.

RIP Jerry Grandenetti.

Word has reached the Internet, and by extension me, that Jerry Grandenetti passed away back in February. You may recall, if you've been reading my blog for any period of time, that I have written several posts praising his work in the 60's and early 70's, especially in the black and white Warren Magazines line, via titles like Creepy, Eerie and Vampirella. Although I was infatuated with the work of many of the artists represented in those pages, such as Alex Toth, Reed Crandall, Steve Ditko, Gene Colan, Wally Wood, Angelo Torres, Al Williamson, and many others, none of them grabbed my attention or captured my fancy like Grandenetti's surreal, expressionistic, almost hallucenogenic renditions of (mostly) Archie Goodwin's stories. Here are links to two previous posts, one an entire story, a personal favorite called "Rub the Lamp", and a single page from a later story called "Type Cast". As the years went by, I would read a bit about him here and there; I soon became acquainted with his work for DC, especially his run on the 60's Spectre, succeeding Neal Adams, inked by Murphy Anderson. The difference in styles was too jarring for many, and eventually the book was cancelled. Like Frank Robbins when he took over from Mike Kaluta on The Shadow several years later, fans didn't take it well...but I really liked his stint, although it wasn't until the mid-70's that I read them. Eventually, I found out about his beginnings working for Will Eisner, and his stint on DC's war comics. After a while, he moved into the greener pastures of advertising, but kept his hand in by illustrating a hodgepodge of things for DC in the 70's, mostly Joe Simon projects like Prez and in the pages of First Issue Special, The Green Team and The Outsiders. Sadly, his work was unappreciated by many at the time, who only seemed to appreciate the flashier, more modern-style artists of the next few decades. Regardless, I never forgot the charge I got from that 60's stuff, and he became one of the artists I was always evangelizing about to whoever would listen. When I started blogging, I was excited to discover his website, through which he solicited commissions, and I always thought it would be so great to get him to do something for me, but alas I never could afford it. The website is no longer online.

Anyway, short story long, of all the great artists I've admired, appreciated and loved over the years, few have given me as much pleasure as Grandenetti did in the 60's, my formative years. His was such a challenging style, it definitely could be an acquired taste, so I can see why it didn't receive the accolades I thought it deserved. In way of tribute, I want to post a series of pages and covers from different points in his career; I hope it will provide some insight into his talent and yes, genius, and perhaps enlighten you about why I revered it so. It's a very incomplete sample set, but I hope it will be satisfactory.

Two Eisnerish Dr. Drew pages, via Four-Color Shadows.

War comics covers for DC, many done with wash tones.

The uncut funk here, Warren pages from Creepy and Eerie. Grandenetti also did several stories as a ghost for Joe Orlando. Now, some DC pages from roughly the same period; the Spectre pages are inked by Murphy Anderson:

And from the 1970's, Prez and the Green Team:

Always wanted to see a Batman-Green Team teamup. You'd think the cartoon guys would be up for that. Anyway, finally, the one page bio that appeared in Creepy #42:

And that's all. Rest in peace, Mr. Grandenetti, and thanks for everything.

RIP Al Williamson

Illustrator AL WILLIAMSON died this past Saturday at the age of 79. Now, I heard the news that day, but I wasn't really thinking I'd eulogize him. Don't get me wrong- I knew full well who he was- one of the greats, with a graceful style in the great newspaper strip tradition. A consummate craftsman, certainly in the discussion when it comes to the all-time greats. But at the time, I had no real emotional connection because I couldn't think of anything he'd done that particularly moved me one way or the other since I'd been reading comics. I remembered him being one of the Warren stable in their glory years under Archie Goodwin. I also recalled his work on features like Flash Gordon and even recalled reading Secret Agent X-9 in the Louisville Courier-Journal (or was it the Louisville Times? I forget), and I also remembered a ton of ink jobs on comics I didn't buy very much, if at all, like Marvel's Star Wars adaptations and other comics. His byline was always appreciated, but I never sought it out.

Ah, but I was wrong!

After reading Steve Bissette's remembrance today, it hit me- he drew one of my absolute favorite Warren stories, the wickedly funny "The Success Story", page below:

Click to read it inflated-ego size. If nothing else, when I first read it at the tender young age of six or so, it introduced me to the concept of "ruling panel borders", and that stuck with me for years. To this day I have a reluctance to rule panel borders. Go here to read it in its entirety.

And then, and then it REALLY hit me. Bissette's mention of Williamson's interaction and mentoring of the likes of Tom Yeates and Rick Veitch jogged my memory- Williamson drew a story in the multi-artist fourth issue of Timespirits, from a Steve Perry script! Below are two of his pages, click to read them dino-size.

So there you go. You never know sometimes, what kind of connection you could have with a man's work. There have many great tributes already- I linked to Bissette's above, and here's Tom Spurgeon's, as well as a roundup of most of the others.

As I so often seem to say when someone of this magnitude passes on, and it's happening more and more these days- we're running out of great ones and we won't see their like again.

Pic of Al above found here.

RIP George Tuska.

Above, four pages (actually, the last four- apologies if I've spoiled a FORTY YEAR OLD COMIC STORY) from Iron Man #11, cover dated March of 1969, which featured the resolution of a two-part thriller that pitted the Armored Avenger against the Mandarin yet again. Script by the great Archie Goodwin, inks by the great Johnny Craig...and pencil art by the late GEORGE TUSKA, who has died at the age of 93, according to various sources around the Web. These four pages illustrate what I thought Tuska did best, at least in my experience with his work- dynamic action, with expressive faces and gestures, and a grounded, not too flashy, but still visually unique style. Love panels 2 & 3 of that first page.

Personal reminisce department: This Iron Man run was the first time I remember being impressed by his art- I remember a short fill-in stint on Avengers earlier in 1968, and perhaps he had work in one of the Warren magazines as well, I'm not sure. He wasn't a favorite of mine, sorry to say, although I was never unhappy to see his art in any comic I chose to take home. I remember sitting in the hairdressers', reading the comic above while waiting impatiently for my Mom to get her hair done...I had probably just turned, or was soon to turn, nine years old at the time. For some reason, I kinda lost interest in Iron Man comics by the end of the year; I think I only bought three more issues. Not Tuska's fault, though. He went on to do many more issues of Iron Man, as well as the early issues of Luke Cage, Hero for Hire and many other jobs for both Marvel and DC. It wasn't until just recently that I became aware of his pre-60's Marvel efforts; what I've seen looked very good- no better than many of his peers at EC and places like that, but certainly better than the run of the mill back then. The style that I became familiar with as a kid didn't develop until much later.

Anyway, that's pretty much all I have to say about the guy. He was a hell of an artist. Don't know what Marvel would have done without him.

ETA: Evan Dorkin has an amusing, yet completely appropriate obit up in which he brings up a couple of points I meant to make but as so often is the case forgot until I read it in posts by better writers- Tuska's habit (in his 60's-70's work, anyway) of drawing big teeth on most of his characters, as well as his foreshortening tendencies, especially when drawing limbs (or lack thereof).

Others: Tom Spurgeon, Mark Evanier. And in this case, anyway, the Onion A.V. Club is full of shit.

Day is Done.

As a fan of the band and its various configurations, I subscribe to the StrawbsWeb news email feed...and the latest one, which I got yesterday, bore some sad news: Robert Kirby (pictured above), who did string and wind arrangements for a lot of musicians most notably in the 70's but right up till today, died last Saturday.

His biggest claim to fame came, I suppose, as the arranger for Nick Drake's first two albums (interview here), but his name first came to my attention with a credit on Strawbs member David Cousins' first solo album, Two Weeks Last Summer, back in 1972. I think I first acquired my copy around 1978 or so, it was not released officially in the US, and mine was a Canadian import. As a budding Strawb fan (I had just purchased the wonderful Ghosts album not long before), I loved the album...and one cut in particular, credited to "Robert Kirby's Wind", stood out. Titled "That's the Way it Ends (Including the World)", it featured a gorgeous melody on the intro, a prim, melancholy arrangement made up of oboes, flutes and clarinets, with Cousins accompanying himself on piano on the second part of the track. Here's an interview with him dealing with his Strawbs work. I kept seeing his name pop up here and there on albums I'd pick up, and eventually (even though I had owned Pink Moon on vinyl a couple of years previous) I obtained the CD reissues of Nick Drake's records and discovered the excellent work he brought to them as well. Probably the first place I ever saw his name in the credits was as choir arranger and conductor for two tracks on Elton John's Madman Across the Water album, which I first heard in 1974.

An obscure sort of figure, unless you're an ardent British folk/rock fan, but a part of my musical upbringing just the same, and I salute him for what he contributed, as well as hope he rests in peace.

Bring Out Your Dead

What a totally insane last few days it's been. First, Johnny Carson's right hand man Ed McMahon passes on, then today comes news that...


Michael Jackson has died at age 50. You can't deny that he was a singular talent, which made it so baffling and sad when his own personal freak show began in the 80's in the wake of his mega-success via the Thriller album. I must admit that I wasn't especially a big fan when I was growing up; I knew him best, as a grade schooler, as a cartoon character member of the Jackson 5, and of course, the J5's bubblegum pop hits were all over the radio. They were cool, and I especially liked "The Love You Save" and "I Want You Back"...but I didn't come to appreciate them until much later. When he reached puberty, and the Five were no longer such hot commodities, it seemed that they would fade away until MJ went solo, first tentatively (and incongrously) with the lilting title song to the 1972 rat-horror flick Ben as well as a lively solo version of the old 50's hit "Rockin' Robin". I also remember attempts at acting in films, most notably his turn as the Scarecrow in Berry Gordy's The Wiz. Really, though, I didn't really pay attention to him until his 1979 breakthrough album Off the Wall; you couldn't go anywhere without hearing "Rock With You" and the title track playing in stores, on the radio, even where I was working in my first "real" job, in the prepress of R.R. Donnelley where they used to play one of the local radio stations over the intercom 24/7. Of course, after that came the rise of videos and Thriller; like many I bought it initially because of Eddie Van Halen's guitar work on "Beat It", but also reading all the rave reviews and how sonically diverse it seemed to be. His appearance at the Motown anniversary bash cemented it, with his bravura performance which, if I recall correctly, introduced the moonwalk step he took to the bank. There are just so many remarkable and memorable things he took part in for a long while there. Then, things got really out of hand, and Mike let his life devolve into a horror show of monumental proportions- with each new alligation of aberrant behavior and each subsequent, more-and-more desperately trying to sound current and hip music release we watched his reputation erode almost as quickly as his facial features. Not to condone some of the things he was accused of, but the guy never had anything that even remotely resembled a normal, stable upbringing and early life; I guess it was inevitable that he should come to such an end. So RIP, Mike. Thanks for the music and the fun, it was nice while it lasted. It's a shame it turned out like it did.


Earlier today, it was reported that former Charlie's Angel and film/TV star Farrah Fawcett lost her long battle with cancer. Upstaged again. Seriously, though, she was a true 70's icon; everybody, well, guys anyway (and come to think of it, I think I saw it on some girls' walls as well) had this poster. She was one of the first to become more popular via that format, I do believe, and inspired many a lustful thought in many a young (and old, I'm sure) person's minds. After Charlie's, she went on to try to parlay her noteriety into a film career, with mixed results; I remember the fuss over her first post-Charlie film, Sunburn- it was not a hit, and neither was the middling Sci-Fi saga Saturn 3, which has its fans. I remember her fondly for her part in Cannoball Run, as she took up with stars Burt Reynolds and Dom DeLuise, but she was just one of a multitude of stars. Really, she didn't make her mark and get taken seriously until returning back to TV for the one-two punch of The Burning Bed and Extremities, playing battered housewifes and showing that she too could be an ac-tor. She never really topped those films, but she worked steadily after that until about 2004 or so, when her health issues took over. Hope she's at rest now.



Finally, Sky Saxon, of ...and the Seeds fame, died today as well at age 63. They're best known for the garage-rock hit "Pushin' Too Hard". I remember "Pushin'", of course, but I didn't know too much else about those guys.

Odds are he won't live to see tomorrow.

Saddened to read about the death of actor PATRICK McGOOHAN, who has died at age 80 after a short illness. I go back with him all the way to my early childhood, when I remember seeing him as Secret Agent John Drake on the British TV series Danger Man. Of course, I watched it in the US under the title Secret Agent, and loved the hit theme song by Johnny Rivers. At about this time, I saw him in another role which pretty much knocked me for a loop: Dr. Christopher Syn in Disney's Dr. Syn Alias the Scarecrow...

...and thus my fandom was cemented. I loved everything about this adaptation of the old Captain Clegg stories, especially the costume design and McGoohan's brisk, clipped performance. No one could show nonchalance, sarcasm, intellectualism, and just plain cool like McGoohan. A few years later, my Mom became devoted to a show which at first I didn't pay attention to, but when I saw who was starring in it I soon was joining her in front of the TV: The Prisoner. It has always amused and amazed me that my Mom picked up on that show like she did. That's what most TV and film geeks know him by, I suppose, and it certainly was one of the most unconventional television series ever aired. After that, he did more TV, most notably episodes of Columbo (which I watched anyway, McGoohan was icing on the cake in his appearances) and movies, including a nifty turn as a typically McGoohanish snobbish, surly art thief opposite Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor in the entertaining Silver Streak, and also was malevolence par excellence in Braveheart and Cronenberg's Scanners. Years and years later, just a couple of years ago as a matter of fact, I happened to catch an late night screening (probably on TCM, although it might have been on the Disney Channel) of early 60's Disney movie that I had not seen before, and just happened to star Mr. McGoohan: The Three Lives of Thomasina, an engaging fantasy about magic and cats and romance in Scotland. It reminded me of how good McGoohan could be, and made me regret that age and other factors were keeping him from making new films. And now he's gone. But he has left a hell of a lot of great work behind him, so let's all hoist a cold Isle of Sky Red in his honor.

Above, you see my first copy of Famous Monsters of Filmland, purchased for me by my doting grandparents at the local Houchens Market when I was all of 6 years old. Having seen Curse of the Demon on the Big Show, Nashville Channel 5's afternoon movie showcase, and having loved it, of course, I wanted to read more about it- and this issue certainly did the trick. As it turned out, not long after they screened Invasion of the Saucermen as well, and I liked that one too- and to this day I have a deep fondness for both. Well, Curse anyway- it's a truly good movie. Saucermen, not so much, although it certainly has its low-budget drive-in-style charms. Anyway, I read many subsequent issues growing up, as well as other Warren publications like Creepy, Eerie and Vampirella, and they all nurtured my budding love for horror films and fiction. Even though FM always had a lot of cool photos and features, and the movie recaps were always neat, looking back it strikes me now how there were no "bad" horror flicks in their purview, and the likes of Plan 9 From Outer Space were treated with the same equinanimous regard as true classics like The Bride of Frankenstein...in the FM world if it had monsters and frights in it, it was all good and worthy of inclusion in their pages. However, like Bill Sherman, eventually I began to want a little more, well, critical thinking in my film discussions and soon gravitated to other genre publications like Castle of Frankenstein and The Monster Times. But FM, and this issue in particular, set me down that path.

I bore you with this reminisce in order to eulogize FM publisher Forrest J Ackerman, who died Thursday at age 92. He was one of the original fans, instrumental in the formation of what we call fandom today- and his influence and inspiration to countless future geeks like me is immeasurable. He didn't have to publish FM, it wasn't his main occupation- but I for one will be eternally grateful that he did.

RIP Michael Turner, who passed away last night at age 37.

I'm not going to sit here and lie to you and tell you that I've been a fan of his work; generally, I've always found it the complete opposite of everything that I hold dear when it comes to sequential graphics. Somewhere in my collection I have the first couple of issues of his Fathom, but two issues was as far as I could go. That said, he seemed to be a dependable craftsman and enthusiastic entrepreneur, and seemed to be very well liked in the comics community in general- and who's to say his best work wasn't ahead of him? Plus, he did a hell of a lot more with his talent that I ever did, so what I think means nothing.

37 is too damn young to die, I do know that. So rest easy, Mr. Turner, and know that many have marked your passing with sadness.

RIP JIM MOONEY, who died yesterday according to the obituary pointman, Mark Evanier.

I have to be honest- growing up I was not really a fan of Mooney's work. I didn't especially dislike it, nor did I go out of my way to avoid it, but neither did I seek it out like I did the Adamses and Sterankos from when I started paying close attention to artists' styles. His anatomy was just a little too stiff and his inkline just a little too grubby for my taste. Mooney also just happened to draw a lot of books that I did not buy, mostly Supergirl stories that I would encounter in the odd 80-page Superman comic that I'd pick up. And of course, not really being a big Superman fan, that wasn't often. Also, he did a lot of work on Spider-Man in the 70's, long after I had lost interest in the character. Two exceptions to that, however, were the Robby Reed Dial H for Hero stories that appeared in House of Mystery for a while there- I got more than a few of those, because there was nothing I liked more as a grade-schooler than weird superheroes- and then several years later, when I bought Marvel Spotlight featuring the Son of Satan as a 13-14 year old. On that book, I was more enamored of the oddball scripts that Steve Gerber was writing, and tolerated his art on the first few issues.

But, for this if nothing else, I feel sad at his passing, another longtime veteran of the pen and ink wars that took place in my heart and in my head during my formative years. Here's to ya, Mr. Mooney.

In the interest of maintaining a semi-regular posting schedule, here are a couple of noteworthy deaths, crossposted from the LJ I know few of you read:



Sad to hear, the other day, about the passing of Neil Aspinall. Aspinall was one of those "behind-the-scenes" people who were instrumental in the success of the Beatles; he started out as a roadie, helping them haul equipment and driving them to this gig and that gig, and ended up serving as the head of what the Fabs' Apple became until about a year ago. Aspinall ended up with the keys to the kingdom, and better believe he knew where all the bodies were buried. Yet, unlike about 95% of the friends, families, co-workers and hangers-on of the Four Lads (for better or worse) he resisted the urge to write a tell-all memoir, taking what he knew to the great beyond with him.

Boy, it's been a tough decade for the Beatles (relatively speaking), hasn't it?



Sharks teeth eat Pirahna
On the early morning
The barracuda he no slumber
He never gonna getta warning
Sharks teeth meets Richard Widmark
If you wanna look for trouble
Captian Cook see iron hammer
blowing bloody bubbles
He biting me!!
He got - sharks teeth

"Shark's Teeth", The Sensational Alex Harvey Band, 1975

RIP Richard Widmark, who has passed on at age 91.

To be honest, I never really was as big a fan of his as I was a lot of Hollywood actors from that era. In fact, I probably knew him best for a long time as the fella mentioned in that Alex Harvey song. I always kinda regarded him as a "that guy" kind of actor in films like The Alamo and How the West Was Won, until a few years ago when I caught his memorable portrayal of nutjob killer Tommy Udo in Kiss of Death, then not long after in Judgment at Nuremberg- two outstanding, and very different, films. He was old-school character-actor Hollywood at its best. His kind of performer is disappearing fast.


Also, I'm sending condolences to my friend Dave of Elmo's Junction for the death of his father on Monday.

Warren Zevon has passed on. Knowing it was inevitable doesn't make it any easier to accept.

I was actually kinda late to pick up on Zevon; I was aware that he was a singer/songwriter out of L.A., one of the people in Jackson Browne's orbit, and I was not a Browne fan. I thought "Werewolves of London" was kinda neat, I liked his should-have-been-bigger single "A Certain Girl", and I liked the songs that Linda Ronstadt covered, but for some reason I was disinclined to buy until Creem magazine and Robert Christgau praised the heck out of his 1980 live set Stand in the Fire. A raucous, sloppy, fun concert LP, it made me a Zevon fan. I went out and picked up Excitable Boy, Bad Luck Streak in Dancing School (with "A Certain Girl"), and not long after, his next release The Envoy. Touring on that album, I caught him in concert at the Louisville Palace, and remember it as a great, energetic show. Still into his self-destructive rockstar period, he was loose but certainly gave the crowd its money's worth. After a five year hiatus in which stopped drinking for good, he returned with some excellent records, beginning with Sentimental Hygeine and later Mr. Bad Example, Mutineer, and Life'll Kill Ya, with only the muddled 1989 William Gibson-influenced concept record Transverse City failing to be consistently interesting.

Favorite Zevon album: Actually, I like them all (except City) more or less equally. I tend to listen a lot to the 1996 anthology I'll Sleep When I'm Dead, which has most of the highlights of WZ's career covered, except, inexplicably, "A Certain Girl".

Most underrated: 1995's spare Mutineer, which uses its odd instrumentation and naked, openhearted sentiment to good effect on some of WZ's strongest post 1970s songs.

Requiescat in pace, Mr. Zevon. That's all she wrote.

Photography by Mark Silver.