A great visionary, craftsman, professional and gentle soul -- you might be surprised how universally venerated Giraud is among comics artists. I never knew him, really, but bumped into him a few times when he was living in Los Angeles, such as the Creation con where he did me the sketch to the left.
The first time was at Disney. I'd heard he was storyboarding Tron -- I was working on less exhalted projects, mostly never made, at the same time (1980). I'd sometimes go up to the top floor where the Tron office was, hoping for a glimpse. One time it paid off. It was after hours, and I found him in the hall, poised in front of a vending machine, frozen. His hand was at his chin.
Giraud was a serious health-food devotee -- at a later point, I know, he ate only raw food. God knows what he chose, among that processed garbage. I was too shy to hang around or even introduce myself.
Later, Mike Richardson and Randy Stradley convinced him to contribute to Concrete Celebrates Earth Day, a one-shot we put out in 1990. He was in Portland for some reason, and they took him to the only restaurant where they knew they could get raw food: a sushi bar. They told him about Concrete ("Ah, yes, Golem!" he said) and showed him some comics. He did a doodle of Concrete on the chopsticks wrapper.
But here's the funny thing. As they chatted, he started to draw wiggly horns on Concrete's forehead. This appeared psychic to Mike and Randy; they knew issue seven, which they hadn't shown him, sees Concrete grow branching, body-wasting antlers, a metaphor for cancer.
Randy gave me that wrapper; if I find it in my files I'll post it.
In a bit of interconnection, that story was inspired by a concept drawing I saw in Tim Burton's office in 1980 at Disney. In Tim's conception, the Horned King, villain in The Black Cauldron, would have his horns grow larger , more twisted, and branching as he went increasingly mad.
They didn't use that (a lot of Tim's ideas were too edgy -- rather than the cauldron-born being simply ghoulish warriors, he drew amalgams of dead animals, chains, spiked weapons, and dead babies, presumably thrown into the cauldron and magically melded; Walt would've spun in his grave!).
But I used it. Never waste a good idea!
Now do yourself a favor and listen to Geof Darrow, who was close to Giraud, tell great stories about him at Heroes Convention 2011.
Paul! I was sharing your apartment at that time (1980) and I'm pretty sure you never told these stories when you got home. Or was I too absorbed in my own stuff to hear them? It's fun to catch up, 32 years later.
Posted by: Kurt | March 22, 2012 at 03:57 PM
When I got a contract to do some game anamition for Sega, I got an advance check part of which I used to buy the Moebius "Blueberry" graphic novel series (for artistic research of course!) - I was blown away by the writing/art package of "Blueberry". Moebius was absolutely "The Greatest". And don't forget "The Airtight Garage" - I've read it over and over and over
Posted by: Alvin | April 15, 2012 at 07:33 PM
I liked the interview and luthoagh they are fairly different in subject matter, I am a fan of their work (much more familiar with Miyazaki).Erik, I agree with your comment about the "tricky times." I remember reading Cicero in college and thinking that people have been saying, effectively, "these kids today and their rock-n-roll music! They don't know how good they got it!"I cannot imagine a time when people didn't think that they were living in "tricky times," it must be part of the human condition. Perhaps that's what the cave paintings are really about, as my dad would say.I am not sure that I would go so far as to assign a rightness to a particular outlook or voice in art. Clearly you state that optimistic and pessimistic viewpoints are equally valid, but I would respectfully submit that even past that there is something pretty deep about a piece that works, regardless of its viewpoint. That is what, to me, is what separates the good from the great. If a piece has appeal, no matter what the subject, then that is powerful art. When it has that something special, that je ne sai quoi, I don't know what it is, that makes you want to look at it just that little bit longer (or a lot bit longer). And not to suck up too much here, but Jim's work has that elusive quality. A simple sketch of a bird that captures the not only the proper bird proportions and lighting information, but really captures the life, the very birdness...I think that's where you can start tossing around words like brilliant and genius.I for one, am very glad to live in this "tricky time" so as to hear Miyazaki's thoughts on art and life, to see great works of art and engineering, and to be able to talk art and life with someone on the other side of the planet ;-)
Posted by: Raquel | April 16, 2012 at 04:29 AM
I'm not sure we're sharing the spatector position with Blueberry. Or at least we are sharing his position and taking a position of viewing his spatectorship.For me, this panel's storyness probably boils down to a combination of generic cues (cowboy-esque figure on horseback, creepy house in the middle of nowhere) and the placement of it as a kind of inbetween time. It sits narratively (even out of context, even moreso out of context) at a threshold. Blueberry is approaching the house, he's not there yet, but it's in the picture. The image feels incomplete, like a person who suddenly stopped in the middle of walking with one foot still off the ground.I don't think that can be generalized to all images with that storyness feeling. I think text could also play a big part in comics panels.
Posted by: Leonardo | May 28, 2012 at 07:19 PM