THE STYLE IN COMIC ART -- AMERICAN STYLE, 1909 STYLE

In its November 1909 issue, The Strand Magazine published a remarkable article. We remark, that is, in admiration for its clever concept; and in gratitude for how it arranged for prominent cartoonists of the day to "speak" to us via drawings and quotations.

"Style in American Comic Art" was inspired by the magazine's English edition -- an article displaying how one premise was given to various cartoonists for them to interpret, and share with readers their approaches and conceptualizations. Despite the popularity of Punch and other British magazines (and reprint books and postcards) in the United States, most of the English cartoonists would have been strangers to Americans. So the American edition of The Strand declared it independence and surveyed Yankees.

Actually, Yesterday's Papers can declare something, too -- a "gotcha" on one of the magazine-history field's most prominent authorities, Frank Luther Mott. Respected for his five-volume History of American Magazines and other works -- essential and exhaustive, all -- the estimable Dr Mott nevertheless wrote about the American Strand Magazine that it was "wholly British" -- that is, its contents entirely reprinted from the iconic British monthly.

Not so. Indeed the American magazine was spun off the British original, its contents dated one month differently to appear to be simultaneous. And many features were imported word-for-word. However, not every article in the fiction-and-current-events journal was pertinent or even intelligible to Americans. Also, there were rights entanglements with famous authors and popular series. Finally, to appeal to American readers, home-grown articles and domestic subject-matter was essential to its acceptance.

Hence, the American Strand became a hybrid; it was not "wholly British." (By the way, several otherwise impeccable internet magazine archives confuse, and cross-identify, the British and American editions...) It ran in the US, with respectable readership, between 1891 and 1916, eclipsed by the "mother" edition, whose dates were 1891-1950.

Bibliophiles, and fans of Sherlock Holmes, will immediately associate The Strand with Arthur Conan Doyle's writing. The original appearances of many Sherlock stories were in The Strand. Eventually Doyle wrote directly for the American Collier's; but he wrote other work for The Strand. Among the writers who contributed original work for its pages of both editions were Agatha Christie, P G Wodehouse, Rudyard Kipling, Graham Greene, Georges Simenon, H G Wells, Dorothy Sayers, Count Leo Tolstoy, Edgar Wallace, Max Beerbohm, and (a personal favorite) the great W W Jacobs. 

An enterprising Strand editor in 1909 duplicated the original British theme (since YP has international readership, we will reprint that article in coming days) and prominent American cartoonists were approached. Their challenge was to illustrate this premise: 

A large dog is rushing madly among a crowd of terrified pedestrians, who are scattering in all directions. Holding grimly to the "lead" attached to the supposedly ferocious animal is a very small boy who, far from having any control over the creature's actions, is being whirled through space at the joyous animal's pleasure. But he hangs on manfully, exclaiming as his body cleaves the air, "What's the matter with the folks? Can't they see I've got hold of the dog?"

Even granting for the changes in taste between the Edwardian Age and now, this idea promised fewer laughs than insights into cartoonists' creativity. It is interesting to note that of the nine artists, five were from the weekly comic magazines, and four were newspaper cartoonists -- a good sampling of perspectives and disciplines.

The cartoonists were Eugene Zimmerman (ZIM), Judge Magazine; the young James Montgomery Flagg, Judge and Life; Walt McDougall, various newspapers; Winsor McCay (also identified as "Silas"), the Bennett newspapers; W H Gallaway, Puck Magazine; Albert Levering, Puck; James Donahey, Cleveland Plain Dealer; William J Steinigans, New York World; and Hy Mayer, freelance cartoonist and illustrator.

The cartoonists' comments can be seen by enlarging these pages; and I will quote from them, with British cartoonists' ruminations, when we share the UK part of the story.

        

CARTOONISTS AT WORK - Bud Fisher

 When weekends are over, we (most of us) get back to work, or think of it. Some of us who freelance write or draw feel like weekends and weekdays are of one demanding sort. Think of cartoonists who draw newspaper strips. Until recently, words like "vacations," "hiatus," and "reprints" were not in their lexicons. (In fact, even "lexicon" was not in many of their lexicons.") More likely, "primal scream" was a term that tempted them.

So I will inaugurate a regular feature in Yesterday's Papers showing cartoonists at their drawing boards. In fact, here and in the imminent revival of NEMO Magazine, I will compile a different sort of trip through comics history -- a chronological compilation of informal photos and snapshots of cartoonists (that is, not promotional photos), sharing what they were like as "normal" (ha) folks; and weaving the narration of comics' growth as an art form. My good friends and great collectors (or vice-versa) Ivan Briggs and Jim Engel will collaborate.

The first subject is almost ironic, for Bud Fisher (Mutt and Jeff) was famous for hardly lifting a pen after the very first years of his strip... except when endorsing royalty checks. Many cartoonists have had assistants; and some abandoned their drawing boards early in their long careers (I will present the case Ron Goulart and I made that Alfred Andriola could barely draw at all, for instance).

Anyway, Bud Fisher was the first major strip cartoonist to employ ghost artists (separate from assistants, which was a rare thing anyway before 1907, when Mutt had his debut). Ken Kling, who later drew Joe and Asbestos, worked for Fisher; C W Kahles ghosted some licensing and ancillary items. Some folks believe that George Herriman subbed for Fisher, but during the few years they worked together Herriman was too big of a "name" to have pitched in anonymously on another strip; it was more likely that Fisher saw another style to swipe. Bill Blackbeard claimed that Billy Liverpool lent a hand, but with no evidence, certainly not in their drawing styles (typically and unfortunately -- for his assertion has made into history books) he admitted under pressure that "Billy Liverpool" was marvelous name that should be enshrined. Trust but verify...

What is true is that around 1916, Fisher hired the B-Team Hearst cartoonist Ed Mack. And Mack thereafter drew virtually every image of Mutt and Jeff -- strips, reprint books, toys and games, ads, merchandise, licensed products -- until 1933. At that point, Al Smith took over the strip 100 per cent. Al (the first cartoonist I ever met, when I was 10 years old; he attended our church, and filled in a lot of history for me) only signed the strip after Fisher's death in 1954.

So... it could be that a photograph of Bud Fisher at a drawing board is a rare thing, or an image of a rare event. 

 

MUG SHOTS

Caricature is a special category of art. It is midway between portrait and parody; reality and exaggeration; truth and...

Well, it usually can be closer to Truth, in its special manner, than a photograph. Caricaturists focus on more than likenesses, but seek to capture the essence of their subjects -- what is "beneath the surface," character traits displayed through a single image, and (more than in paintings or even photographs) the personality of the victim.

Among the first caricatures studied as such are sketches by Leonardo da Vinci. He presumably was interested in drawing some people's faces because of their bizarre or exaggerated features -- huge noses, malocclusions, warts and all. Yet Leonardo exaggerated even more than nature graced (or cursed) these people who faced the world. So to speak.

Many caricaturists are serious artists and painters. But very few artists -- not even all cartoonists -- have the gift of caricature. One needs the special talent of a discerning eye (and, some might say, a venomous spirit) to be appreciated as a caricaturist. In a further anomaly, if it be such, not every cartoonist or caricaturist can succeed in auto-portraiture -- self-caricature. Milton Caniff, for instance, could depict anything under the sun, even exaggerated drawings of others. But when he attempted a humorous self-caricature, he routinely looked more like Lou Costello. Fred Lasswell finally drew a dashing matinee idol when asked to sketch himself.

Can I go a step further? The biggest challenge of a caricaturist is choosing to draw a profile. If you are drawing someone and want to amuse his or her friends, draw a profile, but if you want to please (or be paid by) an actual victim... avoid a profile. Most of humanity never sees themselves in profile, except when being fitted by a tailor in a clothes store's multi-mirrored platform; or in the occasional photo snapped at an event. (Or when booked by the cops...)

The legendary humorist and monologist Jean Shepherd was a talented cartoonist. I once drew a caricature of him in the days when he sported a goatee (he said I made him look like "a cross between Lincoln, Lenin, and Castro...") and he gave me a valuable tip seldom expressed elsewhere. He advised me to study and depict the neck of the subject; the size, shape, tilt of the head would follow, thus to capture of attitude as well as the likeness. But he agreed: avoid profiles!

And most difficult of all, challenge upon challenge therefore, is for the cartoonist to draw his or her own caricature in profile. You cannot pose or study oneself and draw at the same time. Yet... it is not impossible. I will offer here some self-caricatures in profile -- drawings that I think have succeeded.

The upcoming revival of NEMO Magazine, with which Yesterday's Papers will connect as a web-arm, will have a running feature, "About Face!" sharing great caricatures and caricaturists. You might see some of these people in days to come: 

Peggy Bacon. If you think she might have been hard on herself, here is her word-description of herself: "Pin-head, parsimoniously covered with thin dark hair, on a short, dumpy body. Small features, prominent nose, chipmunk teeth and no chin, conveying the sharp, weak look of a little rodent. Absent-minded eyes with a half-glimmer of observation. Prim, critical mouth and faint coloring. Personality lifeless, retiring, snippy, quietly egotistical. Lacks vigor and sparkle."

At the other extreme, kinder to himself and possibly to humanity at large, was the great German cartoonist Wilhelm Schulz. He drew for the legendary Simplicissimus magazine from the 1920s till the '50s, was also a poet and a book illustrator.

The great political cartoonist Homer Davenport spared no invective when he caricatured Washington's movers and shakers. He was no less flattering to himself.

I watched Al Capp draw this for me, and he used no three-way mirrors, honest. He was not as jolly as pictured, however. It was near the end of his life. His wooden leg no longer fit well, and he was dying of emphysema. Yes, he chain-smoked all afternoon. "I can do one of two things," he said. "Quit smoking or stop breathing," as he lit another cigarette.

An easy formula -- bald head, bow tie, broad smile? Not automatic. But longtime political cartoonist Cy Hungerford was exactly as advertised -- jolly, outgoing, enthusiastic.

Similar angle to Cy's was Harry Hershfield. Some people believed he looked like his character Abie the Agent, but this disproves it...

The great ZIM -- Eugene Zimmerman -- drew many self-caricatures through the years, 1880s to 1920s, but few in profile and few as fun as himself at the lithographic stone, at work.

 

           

Frost Bite

In the Early Days of cartooning and illustration's Golden Era, there were a fair number of A.B.s -- A B Frost; A B Shults; A B Walker, A B Wenzell; and I suppose we can add the vintage comic-strip character Abie the Agent.

We will spend a moment here and tip our YP hat to Arthur Burdett Frost. He was an artist whose immense talents and achievements arguably are the most neglected of American cartooning's pivotal figures. He certainly was a major progenitor of the comic strip format, both experimenting and codifying the language and structure of graphic narration.

If Frost was not the father of the American comic strip, he must be recognized as a godfather, a major branch on the family tree, a prophet who entered the Promised Land he espied.

 An early version of A B Frost's most famous "series," drawn in the late 1870s. "A Fatal Mistake -- The Tale of a Cat" was redrawn in 1884 (detail below), showing the unfortunate cat eating rat poison. 

He lived between 1851 and 1928, literally spanning -- and often dominating -- the fields of illustration and cartooning otherwise identified with F O C Darley and Frank Bellew through to Norman Rockwell and John Held, Jr. He studied under the great painters Thomas Eakins and William Merritt Chase; he illustrated a Christian (Swedenborgian) novel written by his sister and then scored a national sensation with hundreds of spot illustrations for Out Of the Hurly-Burly by Max Adeler; he joined the staff of the Daily Graphic, America's first illustrated daily newspaper; he drew for many magazines including Puck, Life, Scribner's, Collier's, Harper's Weekly and Harper's Monthly; and he illustrated more than a hundred books.

Frost was not merely prolific; many cartoonists and illustrators manage to keep busy. It seemed that everything he touched was significant. The authors whose works he illustrated were among the most prominent of his day: Mark Twain; H C Bunner; Frank Stockton; Theodore Roosevelt; Thomas Bailey Aldrich. He illustrated two of Lewis Carroll's books in the wake of the latter's Alice successes. If Frost never had drawn humorous illustrations and strips he would be remembered today for his hunting and wildlife work. Or, perhaps, his gouache paintings of rural life. Or, certainly, his classic folklore and ethnic themes as exemplified in illustrations for the Uncle Remus stories; their author Joel Chandler Harris paid tribute to Frost in one of the books, "you have taken it under your hand... The book was mine but now you have made it yours." The US Golf Association was founded in 1894, and Frost was an early addict of the links; his many drawings, illustrations, and books helped popularize the sport.

But a special mention must be made here of Frost's contributions to the development of the comic strip. In (primarily) the back pages of the "literary monthlies" Harper's, The Century, and Scribner's, Frost drew what were called "series," not termed strips, in the 1880s and '90s. It is possible that these multi-panel cartoons were fashioned in order to accomodate the advertisements between which they were nestled; or perhaps they were designed to encourage readers not to neglect those ad pages.

It is more likely that Frost's multi-panel strips were an organic outgrowth of his desire to tell stories -- freeing himself from staid depictions of moments in time. The great Punch cartoonists in England invariably drew frozen images with lengthy multi-line dialogue underneath; Frost was about presenting unfolding action. And "action" was his watchword. In his series there was movement, agitation, motion, perfervid activity. These tendencies virtually dictated that a story would progress from panel to panel, bursting the confines of a single image.

Regarding the "animation" in Frost's art, it is clear that he was inspired by the photographic experiments of the eccentric genius Eadweard Muybridge, whose studies of human and animal figures in motion -- captured in thousands of images like isolated frames of motion pictures -- largely were financed by Leland Stanford and published in several weighty volumes. In the course of things, Frost flawlessly captured shadows, correctly understood anatomy, and composed his scenes as arrestingly as did any fine artist.

It was "fine art" that lured him to France and away from his pen-work and myriad thematic preoccupations between 1906 and 1914. He was charmed by the Impressionists -- who wouldn't be? -- and despite his color-blindness he painted among the masters around Giverny, hoping to capture their "feel." Ironically, Frost met one mode of expression he could not master. His attempts at oil-on-canvas Impressionism was flat and uninspired. He returned to the United States, drew some series but mostly panel cartoons in pen and ink, especially for Life in the '20s. He died in 1928 in Pasadena CA.

There is much to share of A B Frost's impressive work; and we shall, perhaps category by his various categories, in days to come. As I have said, his "series" heralded the birth of the comic strip; as precursors they usually were pantomimic, and when he employed dialog it was in traditional typeset captions, not speech balloons. But the early signs of Frost all pointed to graphic excellence and comic strips.    

RIP, John Adcock. Statement by Yesterday’s Papers new Administrator Rick Marschall

 

A Message About Yesterday’s Papers Founder John Adcock

And This Essential Web Magazine

Statement by Yesterday’s Papers New Administrator Rick Marschall

Faithful followers of Yesterday’s Papers will have learned by now – but scholars, fans, and researchers might only now discover – that the founder of this incredible resource, John Adcock, has passed away on June 1, 2024.

John's work in several fields of popular culture was widely known, died after a long battle with cancer. He left this life just after entering his 74th year, and died at his home in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.

John Kenneth Adcock was born in 1950 in Nelson, BC, Canada; and grew up in Trail, BC. He was a cartoonist, illustrator, storyteller, and blogger. As a professional and amateur scholar he shared his love and fruits of research in the areas of comics and cartoons; dime novels and “penny dreadfuls” and various genres of folk music.

In recent decades John devoted himself to this web magazine In its electronic pages he published thousands of articles (many by himself but also by scholars from around the world) and illustrations. It commenced in 2008 with an article about Walt Kelly's Ten Ever-Lovin' Blue-Eyed Years with Pogo. At the time of John's death there had been 5,562,010 page views of the Yesterday’s Papers site.

Yesterday’s Papers is widely respected as the internet's premier site for scholarly essays; news and analysis; reviews and commentary on the history and heritage of the comic-strip art form. It is a reflection of John's personality and priorities that, when he was asked before he died what was among his proudest achievements with Yesterday’s Papers, he wrote, “I was happy about two posts, one about George W. Johnson, known [in that era] as ‘the Whistlin' Coon,' the first black man to record for Edison; and another post about a forgotten sports cartoonist named Dan Leno on the San Francisco Bulletin. Both died with unmarked graves, and both now have markers.”

Significant for scholars, John maintained a meticulous cross-reference index to Yesterday’s Papers contents; and provided links to hundreds of related sites and reference sources, all of which you may see on this home page.

John was a talented cartoonist; among his modest list of published work was illustrations for the children's book Ronald and the Dragon (written by Lawrie Peters; Tree Frog Press, Edmonton, 1975). He contributed to the fanzines Chronicle, Weirdom, and Visions. In Yesterday’s Papers and other venues he extensively wrote on subjects beyond comics history: country, bluegrass, and roots music; animated cartoons; silent films, and Penny Dreadfuls. He had written about the work of Harold Furniss and Ferdinand Fissi for the British magazine Ripperologist.

John worked for years on a major book-length, illustrated history of Penny Dreadfuls, the boys' magazines of the 19th century. He also had recently completed a major treatment of the corporate and creative work of the Chicago Tribune and New York News and their syndicate's classic strips for the revival of NEMO Magazine, a magazine of comics history that initially ran for 32 issues that was and will be published by Fantagraphics.

As NEMO's Editor in Chief, I recruited John to serve as Associate Editor of the new incarnation alongside Jon Barli and John Kelly. John Adcock's book on Penny Dreadfuls and dime novels never was published; and it is my intention to help it see print. At the least, this work will be serialized in NEMO.

John also arranged for me to succeed him as the Administrator of Yesterday’s Papers. I humbly assert and reassure uncountable fans and scholars around the world that to the extent I am able, I will maintain John's standards and integrity. Yesterday’s Papers likely will be a web adjunct of NEMO but firmly retain John Adcock's identification, spirit, and appearance as you see it here. It will continue to publish articles and images from the “yesterdays” of comics, cartoons, and animation.

John Adcock was survived by his daughter Lana (Rick) and son Bryan (Donna); his grandchildren Zachary, Cody, Taylor, Dustin, and Samantha; his great-grandchildren Brantley, Ayla, and Oaklen; his brother Richard (Sheila); niece Roxanne; and his friend Andrea Schmidt. Readers of his many FB posts will know of John's affection for his family dog Gracie. A Celebration of Life service was conducted in Edmonton.

Artwork for the book Ronald and the Dragon.

        "Elephant and Man," 1994 fanzine art

On a more personal note, I represent uncountable people around the world who were touched by John. Family and neighbors knew him, I reckon, as a gentle man – and a gentleman, with a soft voice, devoted to his interests and passions. The legatees of his amazing scholarship no less sensed his gentle spirit and fierce integrity.

I wrote more than a hundred articles through the years for Yesterday’s Papers, and provided many images. John's contributors (and faithful readers) included some of the most prominent comics scholars and popular-culture critics from around the world. Their names (maybe yours among them) are listed in the left sidebar on this home page. After John's death one of his followers, Miron Murcury, wrote that John had been particularly flattered and encouraged that I wanted to write for Yesterday’s Papers. However I surely was not alone in, rather, being grateful to appear in these pages: the web magazine is an essential archive of information and insights, thanks to John's tutelage.

Therefore I am proud that I will be the next captain of the good ship Yesterday’s Papers. I fervently urge contributors from past years – and any scholars interested in contributing to this essential scholarly archive – to submit articles, news, essays, and vintage artwork to me. Contact me through the site or at RickMarschall@gmail.com

During John's last months we managed weekly phone chats. After he had vouchsafed his medical prognosis and imminent death we were liberated, so to speak, to discuss more than comics – life; people we have encountered; faith; the “adventures” of collecting and researching; the magic of our beloved art form; and his legacy.

Like many of his friends, I assumed he had a massive collection, a mountain of documentation and paper archives that populated the columns of Yesterday’s Papers. No. Astonishingly, and admirably, most of his thousands of illustrations and even more facts and data, were gleaned through research and the modern miracle of the internet and screen-captures. This was a lesson for other scholars, and (trust me) likely a boon to his budgets. He amassed an astounding visual archive by hard work, initiative, and imagination. He set a standard.

I have wondered whether John was proudest of his drawings, his cartooning talent. I think so. He was a very good artist. Creative, engaging, and accomplished. He was published a bit – not enough! – and he occasionally shared his drawings, whether “finished” or sketchbook-art, on the web and in letters; unfailingly charming. In turn, I share some here (all copyright, Estate of John Adcock).

For the moment, Yesterday’s Papers can still be accessed at https://john-adcock.blogspot.com. I will try to make it even easier to find through search engines.

There can be no greater acknowledgment of John's scholarship and devotion, and tribute to him, than for me to keep Yesterday’s Papers alive as he would have continued it; and for fans, scholars, and researchers to continue their reliance on it. If I may pledge: it will be Tomorrow's Papers too. Godspeed, John. 

“Buster Bear” illustration

                              

Sketchbook drawing 

Dixon and White Fight A Draw

One of the few Homer Davenport sporting cartoons with vignettes I have found. Davenport was really the first popular Americana newspaper sporting cartoonist, before Swinnerton, Dorgan and all the rest. George Dixon was a Canadian pugilist. He was the first black world boxing champion in any weight class (the heavyweight champion title was strictly reserved for white men until the era of Jack Johnson), while also being the first ever Canadian-born boxing champion. Ring Magazine founder Nat Fleischer ranked Dixon as the #1 Featherweight of all-time. New York Journal, Sept 26, 1896

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