GREETINGS FROM C W KAHLES, A HAIRBREADTH FROM IMMORTALITY

 

The Forgotten Comic-Strip Pathfinder

by Rick Marschall

A Christmas card by C W Kahles, ca 1930, produced for family and fans. Hairbreadth Happy, and probably his fair maiden Belinda, are downstairs, frustrating Santa. But we do see the nasty villain (boo! hiss!) Rudolph Rassendale about to administer his patented form of  holiday greeting.

Recently we profiled Thomas Nast, the Father of American Political cartooning; and mentioned the native Bavarian artist's prolific work, and his comic-connection to Santa Claus.

Another American cartoonist was born in Bavaria: Charles William Kahles (1878-1931) was born in Lengfurt, western Bavaria, actually about the center of three cities of Frankfurt, Nuremberg, and  Würzburg; across the Main River from Triefenstein. We will see a couple of his Santas in this essay. 

The Kahles family settled in Brooklyn, and the cartoonist lived there and in Queens and on Long Island the rest of his life. Kahles did early work for the New York Recorder, a pioneer of color newspaper printing; and then, enormously prolific, cartoons and comic strips for the New York World, Hearst's American and Journal, the Press and Ledger in Philadelphia, the pre-print syndicates of McClure and the World Color Printing Company, the weekly humor magazines Judge and Puck, and many freelance and ghost-artists assignments.

Some day soon we shall profile the career of C W Kahles. Here we will merely visit, and present in best thematic tradition, a Christmas drawing or two.

I can note a melancholy (and personal, I suppose) aspect to Kahles's career. He drew dozens of strips, often simultaneously, even for rival papers or syndicates. His work was much-published when the cartoon weeklies flourished; and he was a pioneer strip cartoonist as the art form was establishing its language and structure. His work was nestled among the greats like George Herriman, Rudolph Dirks, ZIM, Jimmy Swinnerton, and George McManus.

Yet none of his strips prominently survive in memory or the histories, except his eventual claim-to-fame, Hairbreadth Harry. Many of his "hits," like Clarence the Cop, actually were originated by other cartoonists; Kahles probably inherited more strips than any cartoonist in history. He died at the relatively early age of 53, and his successor on Harry, F O Alexander, clearly was a better cartoonist. Kahles seems to have been burdened with two unhappy marriages, and was described as a work-obsessed recluse who ventured out onlt to feed his passion for chess matches.

Kahles was blessed with a daughter, Jessie, who provided the adulation that the critics withheld. Until her death -- I knew her and acquired pieces of original art and documentation from her father's career -- she was an indefatigable booster of C W Kahles. All fathers should have such children! Yet her campaigns were uncritical, historically inaccurate, and perhaps irritating to those historians and publishers she might otherwise have recruited to join her virtual fan club.

I am not damning with faint praise; perhaps the opposite. Kahles pops up, seemingly, with every page you turn in musty bound volumes or early Sunday funnies or humor magazines; the fecundity of his drawings and strips is astonishing; and his awkward figures are discernable, even when unsigned, in ghost-artist work, for instance on several pages of Slim Jim and brochures for Mutt and Jeff animated cartoons.

I present here two Christmas cartoons, interesting in their non-traditional aspects. The first is a rough sketch, a submission, perhaps for Judge Magazine, of Santa Claus delivering presents to soldiers in World War I trenches. A drawing given to me Jessie Straut, who knew no more of its acceptance nor eventual publication. 

The other cartoon is a Christmas card that Kahles drew and color-printed near the end of his life. It features characters from his popular strip Hairbreadth Harry -- yes, he finally received deserved success; the parody of cliffhangers ran for years and even inspired motion-picture treatment. 

To be continued... as those cliffhangers always promised at the end of each episode!      

       Rough sketch by C W Kahles for a magazine gag cartoon, probably for Judge, ca 1918 -- "The Kind of Bombing Raid the Boys Would Like."

 

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.