Monday, August 31, 2009

Noel Sickles and Art of Sequential Art, Part 1

This series of posts is about finding beauty in ephemera. And few things are as ephemeral as a daily comic strip. It's something that takes but a moment to read. There's enjoyment, but it's fleeting -- usually forgotten by the time the reader's moved on to the next item.

Which is why I admire the artists and writers who do more than they have to. Mediocre art abounds in comic strips. And why not? What's the reward?

With Noel Sickles (1910-1982), it was the sheer joy of drawing, and pushing himself to become a better artist.

Sickles was a remarkable illustrator who did ground-breaking work in a number of media. But he's best remembered for his three-year stint (1933-1936) on "Scorchy Smith," a now-forgotten adventure strip. Forgotten, that is, save for Sickles' contributions.

His sequences were reprinted in the 1940's and greatly influenced the following two generations of comic strip and comic book artists. Here's part of the reason why.

Sickles was a master of negative space. That is, letting the shadows define the object, rather than lining out the surfaces. In the panel above, it's obvious that the scene takes place at night (click on the image to enlarge).

Notice that the figures are mostly blobs of black. This serves to show how bright the searchlight is, and also how dark the night is. And look carefully at the shading -- each one of those lines is hand-drawn. They cast a gray pall over the panel without obscuring the details of the figures.

And, of course, the absence of those lines make the searchlight's beam white-hot. And even the beam is a product of negative space. Most of us would draw two lines out from the searchlight to represent the beam. Sickles doesn't -- he simply stops the gray lines representing night and lets their collective endpoints define the beam's edges.

I also don't think it's an accident that those gray lines are slanted, either. The beam pulls the eye upward to the right, and the lines contribute to that motion. They're slanted just enough to hit the beam at angle, which helps provide contrast at their meeting point.

Now all of this is very fine, but consider this: Sickles didn't agonize for weeks over this drawing the way a fine artist might. It was one of four panels he drew for that day's sequence. And he was required to produce six such sequences a week, 52 weeks a year.

Below are two daily strips that put our panel in context. Don't be put off by the moire pattern -- if you click on the image you'll see the strip at proper size and the shading will display correctly.


In the two panels, notice the heavy reliance on negative space. The final image shows a rescue ship pulling close to island, with an amazing economy of line. The ship itself is mainly a black blog with small white circle suggesting a life preserver and an other white space suggesting the outline of the hull. A few small black blots behind it indicate the boat's wake as it moves. A large black blob to the right represents the island, with some white highlights that show depth.

Sickles was better than he had to be -- which is why his comic art has become the subject of serious study for working professionals. And why his run of "Scorchy Smith" is still a joy to read today.

So here's the question: think about the comic strips (either in dead-tree or online editions) you read. What function does the art serve to tell the story or deliver the gag? And are the artists you admire really working at the top of their game, or just marking time?

- Ralph

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Where's Ken? Sailing to Nigeria

We've just wrapped up another Nigerian 419 scammer scam. I say "we" because I was able to make a few modest contributions to Ken's efforts. This is a mighty tale of adventure on the high seas with that old salt, Captain Frank Drake of Golden Hind Marine Salvage.

Captain Frank often states that he hates pirates and yet he seems surrounded by them. Many of his associates are either actual pirates or characters from "Treasure Island."

There's some other background information which might help you further appreciate our story: Golden Hind Marine Salvage is located at Surfside Six, Miami Beach which references an old TV detective show that was a spin-off of "77 Sunset Strip."

Frank's initial business partner is Travis McGee, John D. McDonald's fictional detective based in Florida. McGee often described himself as a salvage expert (see how it all ties together?).

The part of Captain Frank Drake is played by Henry Kulke. This character actor portrayed the gruff, plain-spoken Chief Petty Office Curly, part of the Seaview's crew on "Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea."

Captain Drake and his adventures manage to keep our Nigerian scammer, "Mr. George Khumato" on the hook for 50 days -- a new record for Ken!

Personally, I'm disappointed at the quality of Mr. Khumato's documentation. I think we did a much better job, like the poster we created above (click on the image to see it full-size). We might be on the wrong end of this racket.

Click the link below to download the PDF of our latest caper.

Captain Frank and George PDF

One final thing: the secret coded message is a simple cryptogram. Can you decypher it? Enjoy!

- Ralph

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The Faux-ward Award


I'm very excited. Our small business just won 2009 Best of Orange (Virginia) Award for eating places by the US Commerce Association.

My partner and I have been running Digital Chips, Inc. since 1997 and it's nice to have some recognition. All I have to do is just pay for the cost of the award plaque (pictured, left), and we'll have something we can proudly display in our business.

I'm sure the US Commerce Association doesn't hand out awards frivolously.

I wonder when their examiners came to Orange to do their evaluations of our business? What was it that made them consider us the best? Was it our famous digital chips that won them over?

Tough to say.

Because, of course, this entire award is a sham. First off, we're not located in Orange. Our business' official address is 391 CC Road, Hood, Virginia (about 20 miles NW of Orange). We do use Dominion Market Research in Orange, Virginia for our warehousing and order fulfillment, but I don't recall them having anything especially good to eat there.

Secondly, Digital Chips, Inc. isn't even in the food service industry at all. We create custom music compilations for various clients (mostly public radio stations) and also run DCD Records and Distribution. The only platters we sell are vinyl.

The Better Business Bureau had some additional info about this organization that awards businesses for a non-existent restaurant in the wrong town.

So to sum up, an organization I've never heard of notifies me that I've won a contest I didn't enter. And that, for a small fee, I'll be able to collect my prize.

Sound familiar? It's the old lottery scam, a variant on the Nigerian 419 scam.

Boy, did they pick the wrong people! Just ask our Nigerian correspondents!

- Ralph

Monday, August 17, 2009

At The Stroke of Midnight

I would be very surprised if a single person reading this knew who John K. Butler was. It's a shame, but not surprising.

Butler was one of the many second-tier authors whose stories populated the pulp magazines from the 1920's through the 1940's. Butler didn't stay a pulp writer long -- he went to Hollywood in 1943 and wrote scripts for movies and later TV shows.

Butler wrote a fair amount of crime stories, among pretty respectable company. Some of the best-known mystery authors of the era got their start in the pulps -- Erle Stanley Gardner, Dashiell Hammett, Leslie Charteris, and Raymond Chandler to name a few (and if you don't recognize those authors, shame on you).

Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett set the standard (after John Carroll Daly's lead) for hard-boiled detective fiction, but many, like Butler, had their own takes on the genre.

Butler's main contribution was a series of nine novelettes (each about 12,000 words in length) featuring Steve Middleton Knight, nicknamed "Steve Midnight," driver for the Red Owl Cab Company in Los Angeles. The stories, published in Dime Detective from 1940-1942, are tightly written, and have a gritty realism that make them interesting reading even a half-century later.

Steve Midnight isn't Jessica Fletcher in a cab, or even a Sam Spade. Unlike the stereotypical hard-boiled detective, he isn't especially world-weary, nor overly cynical. He only gets involved with crime when someone cheats him out of a fare, or is jumped, or the actions of others cost him his job. And his goals are equally simple. He's not out to catch a murderer -- that's for the police. He just wants to get his money or his job back.

According to the back story, Knight used to be a millionaire playboy until the Depression hit. The family fortune disappeared, and Knight's father committed suicide. Suddenly, Knight, with no job skills and no money, had to support his mother and ailing sister. Fast-forward to 1940 when the first story begins, and the former playboy's now behind the wheel of a cab. But Knight's not bitter, or resentful, which makes the character far more complex than one generally gets in the genre. He's just doing what has to be done to survive.

Butler follows the convention of narrating the stories in the first person. But the prose doesn't sound forced or overly dramatic. Here's Steve Midnight describing a regular fare:
She was a small, sad-eyed blonde with a veneer of glamor. She always dressed to the hilt and wore the latest screwy hats and affected the glib sophistication of a telephone operator out on Saturday's date. The veneer was an attempt to cover the disappointment in the tough life she had to lead -- singing in cheap clubs like the Corinthian, mailing money to her folks in Kansas, and at the same time supporting a stumble-bum prize fighter named Poke Haley who divided his time between being counted out on the ring canvas and taking alcoholic cures in all the local sanitariums.

(from "Hacker's Holiday")

I first ran across Steve Midnight in "The Hard-Boiled Dicks," a 1967 anthology by Ron Goulart. I was struck by the quality of the writing, and so it was only a matter of time before I purchased "At the Stroke of Midnight," which collects all of the Steve Midnight stories together.

Butler had an understated, compelling style that I thoroughly enjoyed. If you're a fan of hard-boiled detectives (new or old), film noir, or just plain good fiction-writing, I recommend "At the Stroke of Midnight."
"A racket plied against lonely people, against the sick, against the worried, against the aged. The lousiest racket in the world, hiding behind the cloak of spiritual religion and defying you to prove it's just a cloak."

Talking about some aspects of today's health-care debate? Nope, Steve Midnight making an observation in "The Saint in Silver" in 1941.

- Ralph

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Ralph will love this (but count me skeptical)


Who wouldn't want to glide smoothly through the air, enjoying a million-dollar view on your way to work?

That's the vision behind the AIRBIA, a finalist in the ReBurbia suburban design competition. Sleek airships will drop down and pick you up in your neighborhood and deposit you in the city center. So much more appealing than riding the bus!

Check out the pictures -- while it does look beautiful, I'm not holding my breath on this one!

Ken