I never set out to collect original art, but over the years I’ve amassed a couple dozen pieces, all of which I’ve had matted and framed for display. I have my share of other, mass-produced items hanging, as well. The Graffiti Designs poster of James Bama’s cover for the Doc Savage supersaga The Monsters was a must-have, as was the Mike Kaluta poster, “The Shadow Ablaze.” And how could I pass up this classic shot of The Kid, smacking a home run in his first at-bat of the 1947 season:
(Sorry, all you fans of Barry Bonds, Josh Hamilton, Alex Rodriguez, Albert Pujols, or any other masher you can list – four decades after he hung up his cleats, the incomparable Ted Williams remains the greatest hitter who ever lived.)
First-time visitors to my humble abode acknowledge the posters and photos, yet they linger over the originals. Some sketches were bought strictly out of fan appreciation – a Gil Kane Green Lantern; a color head shot of The Thing from “Mr. FF,” Joe Sinnott; a magical, mystical Doctor Strange by that painter with a pencil, Gene Colan.
Two big frames in my living room contain mementos from my own comic stories. In the late 1990s, some might recall, I spent several months writing freelance for DC Comics, arriving on the scene just in time for the business to take a major nosedive (the speculator bubble popped; Marvel Comics filed for bankruptcy protection), but before the work dried up underneath me I teamed with my old friend, Lee Weeks, on the graphic novel Batman: The Gauntlet and had my “Huntress” short story for the Batman Chronicles anthology title illustrated by Jim Aparo. I’m pleased to own two pages from each of those stories and am proud to have worked with both those talented gentlemen.
Some too-generous friends have given me several originals, including a very wonderful Olive Oyl profile shot rescued from a waste paper basket at the Fleischer Studios by a member of the production staff and later sold at an Atlanta Fantasy Fair. Color notations around the edge of the piece lend one to believe this was put together for one of the three Fleischer two-reelers, the only color Popeye work they produced.
As LOAC was building up its head of steam, I decided to keep my eyes open for select originals from some of our books. I wasn’t about to break the bank (my prudent Scots heritage at work again), but for the right price I was willing to dabble in the original market.
The few Scorchy Smiths I found were priced well beyond the amount I was willing to pay, meaning I still have no original Noel Sickles piece. Yet I was lucky enough to snag a daily from his artistic stable-mate’s greatest creation:
Yes, that’s the March 11, ’39 Terry and the Pirates, as the “Indo-China” sequence rushes to its climax. Milton Caniff had been hospitalized at the start of this storyline; many believe Sickles assisted his close friend throughout, to help him get back on schedule. Look at the foliage in the background of that last panel and judge for yourself, but some of my friends believe I own both Caniff and Sickles work in this one strip …
While Rip is nowhere to be seen, I’m a Honey Dorian fan, so owning a daily featuring Honey is fine by me. Raymond’s exacting, confident rendering continues to delight.
If you’ve read my text in King Aroo Volume 1, you’ve likely figured out I’m a big fan of the strip (and you are, too – right?). It was a red-letter day when I was able to land this January 30, 1960 Aroo original:
The seller told me he was a Jack Kent fan, parting with the strip only reluctantly in order to raise money that would help him in a financial pinch. I sent him a copy of King Aroo when it went on sale – perhaps the seller having Kent strips in quantity at least partially counterbalanced his having parted with this original? I can only hope so.
I’m mighty happy to have added this to my handful of original art. There’s Jiggs – there’s Maggie – there’s the Deco motif – there’s the surreal little background figure cutting capers. A neat, representative sampling of the best elements of this long-running strip.
As you might expect, I’ve become a familiar figure at my local framers over the fifteen years I’ve lived at my current residence. Here’s a heads-up, Brian and Sally, if you’re reading this – I’ll soon be coming through the door to ask you to work your magic so I can add Bringing Up Father to the other pieces of art on my walls!