
I. Anybody can produce art that is strange. What's most interesting about John Forte's work is that it is by its very nature strange. "Strange", where Mr Forte's art is concerned, occurs everywhere and all the time; it's not the result of an attempt to shock, or of gross incompetence, or an ignorance of a less-quirky tradition of comic-book story-telling. It's an intrinsic strangeness that exists even when the skies are blue and the teenage superheroes are - sort-of -smiling, just as much as it does on alien worlds populated solely by the statues of long-extinct mysterious creatures. It is, if you like, an honest strangeness, a constant and consistent effect of the choices Mr Forte made job-in, day-out. And as we've been discussing for a while now, the strangeness is generated by a wide variety of design elements and pen'n'ink achievements all working together to produce a world quite individual to John Forte's art. Where other comic books of the period, such as the thin gruel served out by the Batman stories from the Bob Kane school, can now be seen as the product of creators who were cutting corners and underestimating the potential of the stories they were churning out, Mr Forte was regularly turning in complex and yet charming pages of a fairy-story 30th century which deserve a great deal more respect and attention than they've so far received.
At the conclusion below of this final look at Mr Forte's LSH career, I'll put forward a checklist of techniques used by him which could still be adapted and applied to achieve a distinctive and useful sense of "normal oddness", but before then, I'd like to briefly discuss just a few of my favourite examples of his work. (I was intending to present far more than just the panels I talk about below, but I soon realised that I was behaving not unlike the bloke who insists on playing no other records other than his own favourites at the party. It seemed, on reflection, more appropriate, and more respectful of Mr Forte's work, to present and discuss just a few pieces. Then, should anyone ever be in some small way nudged towards considering Mr Forte's Legion work - should they not have already been familiar with it themselves, of course - there'd remain even more hidden gems for them to discover for themselves.)
II. John Forte's work always contained the capacity to convey a peculiar and touching sense of mournfulness. Here his skill at creating quite alien races from Earthly templates quite outside of the usual comic book tradition, combined with his affable style, has produced these doleful statues of an "all-dead" alien race. Mr Hamilton's script has Cosmic Boy describe these effigies as "weird monuments", but I doubt he could ever have foreseen quite how distinctly odd and yet endearing these statues would appear once Mr Forte had got to work on the matter.The panel creates a sense of stillness and loss through the application of many of the inertia-causing techniques of Mr Forte's that we've been discussing. The panel is again divided in thirds, with each third containing two of the Legionnaires as they stand in a wide semi-circle at the front and bottom of the frame. The focus of the gazes of the young superheroes are fixed on the distant statues far away at the top-centre of the panel, giving an impression that the Legion has been placed in a huge alien graveyard of sorts, and one too substantial to explore with any ease. (It's an impression reinforced by the gaze of the large memorial figure at the right-hand side of the panel, which turns our attention back again to the scene just as our eye is ready to move on to the next panel.) The passive, still postures of the Legionnaires similarly give the reader the sense that this is a planet where the human scale, and human effort, are entirely unimportant. And if the somewhat strange perspective which afflicts the "strange abandoned building" to the top-right of the scene is by now a familiar matter in a John Forte scene, it also carries with it a feeling that this is an environment where odd things are happening, where even old empty buildings don't quite obey the everyday rules of ordinary life.
Most touching to me are the individual qualities of the memorials. The fourth statue from the right, for example, seems to have a serpent of sorts wrapped around it, while his arms have been lost with time. It's hard not to want to speculate about who the race depicted in these statues were, and what were their myths and symbols, and what was the tale of the turtle-lizard who came complete with a serpent wrapped around his belly?And why did they all disappear?
These enigmas mean that the panel retains its power to move despite those rinky-dink space-boats in the foreground that the Legionnaires have apparently used to land on this planet of the giant civilised turtle-lizards, which says a very great deal considering how utterly unimpressive those sadly typical examples of John Forte's tech-designs are.

The work of Mr Hamilton and Mr Forte regularly feature such examples of dead cultures memorialised by some great markers of their lost makers. The city dwarfed by the cloud-high robots, to take one such scene which actually resonates better in the memory than it does on the page, and the scene above, where another race of aquatically-inspired aliens survives only in the form, once again, of monumental statues. It's a haunting panel in itself, set up by Hamilton's word-pictures - "... built by an inhuman race ages ago, and illuminated by perpetual radium lights .... " - and again our impassive Legionnaires serve as blank slates for us to project our own responses of awe and loss onto them. It is, I believe, a touch too crowded a composition to carry the same measure of despair that the first example above does, for the Substitute Heroes stand so close together that they seem to some greater degree protected from the world around them than the Legionnaires were. But it's still a quietly haunting piece.
No other superhero artist that I can think of regularly left so much space at the far right-hand edge of his longer, larger panels. It's a choice which often leaves his characters hemmed in far away from the promise of escaping into the next stages of the story. Here two of our heroes step rather gingerly through a "world devastated by atomic warfare", and nothing as much marks the loss and fear in the scene as Mr Forte's characteristic stillness and the sense of deathly quiet. A Gil Kane or a Jack Kirby would choose to show the scale of the devastation, illustrating the immense force of the "atomic" weapons which had been used. But Mr Forte simply shows us the world empty of anything that a human being might think fondly of while presenting the ruined city as a simple fact rather than as an means of extracting any excess of fear from the reader. There's a space here between how these ruins of atomic warfare are depicted and our knowledge of what caused that devastation, and that makes the whole piece all the more subtly upsetting; we can't escape into the awe-inspiring thrills of any Kirbyesque depiction of an atomic holocaust, and so we have to accept the fact of the planet's end rather than the spectatcular cause of it. And so the scene is much closer to the quiet fortitude and certainty of extinction that marks "On The Beach" rather than the chest-thumping histrionics of the last scene of the "Planet Of The Apes". In essence, the focus is on the terrible consequences of the bomb rather than the beguiling power of it, and it's all the more scary for it. This is a painfully empty, static world, even for Mr Forte's work. (Two of "thirds" here are empty of any figures or action at all, although the vertically integrating effect of the two skyscrapers in the centre of the panel still divides the space without a Legionnaire in it into two.) And our typically undemonstrative heroes fit perfectly with such a reading. The destruction is so complete that would be futile, even hubristic, for them to respond in any other way than keeping quiet and moving on.
III. From the end of the world to something considerably more enchanting, the panel above illustrates how brilliant Mr Forte was at depicting children, just as he was at projecting a child's view of the world. (I wonder how many contemporary artists could produce something as simultaneously touching and amusing as the above.) A panel as deceptively straightforward as this needs little explanation after all we've discussed, though again it's worthwhile to point how the far right of the panel beyond Dream Girl is quite empty again. With that apparently evil grown woman standing menacingly and confidently between the kids and the progression of the story, we're being told that she's standing between them and rescue, and that's she's powerful enough to bar their escape past her. That empty space is a mental mud-trap, telling the reader that the story's progression breaks down there; it's a clever way of getting the reader to worry how our super-tots will ever manage to return to the sober pinacle of LSH teenagerdom.
IV. So many of John Forte's strengths and apparent weaknesses are present in this final example that it's all I can do to not set a quick quiz here. (I can't resist; "How many of Mr Forte's usual array of techniques are present in this panel, and what effect do they have in combination with each other? 25 marks.") And yet here the work contains a few small innovations of the formulae which result in what for me is his most enjoyable single panel of his entire tenure on the LSH. Once again the reader's attention appear's to be divided into three sections, namely the Legionnaires to the left, the city to the right, and then the smaller figures being thrown through the sky above. It presents a strange challenge of reading; the word balloon at top right demands we first focus on Saturn Girl, whose orders galvanise Lightning Lad and Sun Boy into project their individual powers. Lightning Lad, being the dominant figure in the panel, then throws our attention off to the right, in the normal direction of reading for the Western eye, where his energy bolts flash in front of the hostile city. And then, wonderfully, our eye travels upwards again, to where the three tiny figures, representing the three most mighty Legionnaires, are being blown before the storm. I've never seen such a panel construction before! Where another artist might have tried to present this scene as a single event, with the three wind-blown and tumbling figures appearing in the background of the main scene, Mr Forte, as is his want, hives Mon-El, Ultra Boy and Superboy off into their own part of the panel and uses them to point the reader forwards to the next no-doubt exciting section of this story. In such a way, the panel becomes absolutely full of action and excitement. The power of the Legionnaires in the foreground is emphasised, the force of the storm is accentuated, and the lucky reader gets to dwell in a scene which is untypically both exciting and exacting to read. (A child's eye could focus on this scene for a good long while.) Even the typical Forteian stoicism of his Legionnaires becomes unquestionably a sign of determination rather than boredom or insouciance.
To my mind, it's a small triumph of design and skill, and a good point to break off this attempt to engage with Mr Forte's work. For if there's anybody who can't see a modest and yet considerable virtue in the above panel, well; no amount of extra words on top of all those I've invested above will help my case.
Huzzah! for Mr Forte! Three cheers for his splendidly individual, odd, and engaging art work!
V. So, in some alternative universe, where I've quite undeservedly lucked Jack-Black-like into a job at a prestigious academy training the comic book artists of the future, one of the year's major homeworks will be to apply the oddness-creating techniques of Mr Forte to a page full of superhero action, as well as perhaps a single horizontal panel of a extinct race and the monuments to them on an Ozymandias-evoking planet. I'd be sure, however, to make sure the students had a list such as the following, so they could remember how to mix and max from Mr Forte's considerable repertoire of strangeness-inspiring tricks;- create your human characters from the realistic tradition, using considerable detail as long as it doesn't create too substantial a sense of individual difference, emotion or action.
- produce stiff, largely-impassive and similar figures differentiated by colourful and distinctive costumes. (If you must reach for sophistication, focus on individual hairstyles and height.)
- only show emotion when it is absolutely demanded by the script. Don't dwell on it. When it's over, it's over, and it should be over in a few panels time at most!
- juxtapose these blank-slate but realistic characters against backgrounds which contain naive elements, especially where perspective is concerned
- and skewed perspective should be used to inform readers that what looks like an standard representation of a comic book world is something odder entirely
- never layer a scene with different events occurring at the same time without breaking up the action according to Forte's rule of thirds
- remember to slow down time for the reader by turning their attention away from the "escape" point of the panel's right-hand edge, and wherever useful, have as your eye-focusing vanishing point a scene of emotionally-unintense importance near the top-middle of the page.
- don't be frightened to increase the reader's sense that escape from the moment shown in the panel is impossible by leaving the right-hand third of the panel empty, or blocked off by a dominant figure, or containing a face looking to the left.
- don't show a character doing something if you can show other characters watching them doing something instead.
- avoid focusing the reader's eyes on scenes which are unnecessary upsetting or exciting. If that's not possible, have stoical emotional-control panel-front and choose the moment just before or just after the most powerful view to illustrate.
- If one super-powered character is using their powers, try to have them all doing so.
- make sure your panel layouts are predictable and traditional: 6 panels in two-panel vertical rows, each occupying a third of a page, with a long horizontal panel four or five times a tale.
- concentrate on wide and mid shots. Remember that focusing on a large emoting face, unless it's the Emperor Nero, is only going to end in an unnecessary emotion of some kind.
- When designing technology, don't care about realism. When attending to xenobiology, draw extravagantly from the open-house mix'n'match options offered by Terran lifeforms.
- Remember that sex and violence are dangerous matters which your audience should be protected from.
- When in doubt, ask yourself two questions: 1 - what would a young child see?, and 2 - If it doesn't look like it's real, does it at least look like it's engagingly strange?
VI: We humans have a terrible tendency to regard anything which doesn't survive as inferior, as if the shark and the crocodile were markers of excellence, and the dodo and the quagga weak and irrelevant accidents of biology practically begging to wiped from the fact of the environment. But not everything which survives is beautiful or useful, or even morally defensible. (Of course, that which survives is mostly just the most deadly competitor on the field of play.) Jon Forte's world isn't any less beautiful and beguiling because he didn't leave a school of his style behind him, and it contains, as I hope you'd agree, lost and apparently self-contradictory secrets which could well do with being unearthed and put to use on occasion today.And it's worth remembering that even those things which appear to have been entirely lost have a habit of turning up in unexpected places. Sometimes we find a coelacanth being sold in a South African fish-market hundreds of thousands of years after it was supposed have been wiped from existence. Occasionally, the unexpected survives so far out of sight that it's hard to believe it's still there, but as with Paabo's discovery of Neanderthal DNA in some modern humans genetic code, there's always the hope that what was thought lost might be in some small way quietly influencing the future. And if some of us can perhaps have shadows of gentle, flower-gathering, grave-maintaining Neanderthal dreams at night, then I'd quite like my John Forte moments too.
For I was wrong about Mr Forte's work. Seven days ago, when I started these pieces on his art, I thought his pages occasionally contained single moments of a unique character through an accidental fusion of craft and chance. In essence, if not in every detail, I was accepting the school of thought that judges his work to be "wrong". And I was wrong. Though I've focused here just on his large horizontal panels, I can now see there's a strange, effective and counter-intuitive beauty running through much of his LSH art. I stared at John Forte's work, if you like, and it stared back, and you know what? It really did make me happy.
Please accept an open invitation to offer up a word or two of your own favourite John Forte panels, horizontal or not, in the comments here. Although I started off these pieces on Mr Forte by noting how little favour he's received from professionals of a later vintage, I'm aware that I'm hardly the only John Forte-booster on the interblognetweb. "The Comics Treadmill", for example, ran a whole string of pieces full of a warm appreciation of Mr Forte's work a few years ago. So, even if it's a few months or even years ahead, I love to hear what other Forteian watchers have thought.
Thank you for everyone who's dropped in to read a line or two in one or more of these pieces on Mr Forte. I have no idea what's coming next on TooBusyThinkingAboutMyComics, beyond a suspicion it may concern "The Authority" during that titles' pomp, but whatever, it will involve thinking and comics, I promise you, so I hope I may see you here again. I wish you a splendid day!
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(Oops, this comment is too long - I shall randomly divide!)
ReplyDeleteRight, a long train journey gives me a chance to catch up on the most enjoyable homework ever! Cheers, Mr Smith, no need to apologise for being Clarity King - I love that you lay your points out so well.
Reading the first instalment, I'm stunned by the tough critical comments on John Forte's work you collect. I loved it as a kid, and while even then I could see that it wasn't the most dynamic, it made the 30th Century and its inhabitants unique. Simply, that was how the Legion looked.
And the artwork must have had a lot more than just SOMEthing, as it gave the LSH strip a lot of the initial momentum that set it off on 50 years of success.
(Now if you want to talk stiff, look at Wayne Boring's Superman, with precisely one flying pose and madly glam women ... I hated his art as a nipper, but now I see its considerable charms.)
In part two you comment that apart from hair and tights, all JF's human people looked the same, but honestly, how many artists back then provided much variation in character? Even the acknowledged great Kurt Schaffenburger had just three women in his pencil - Lois, Lana and Ma Kent. Sometimes he'd add extra lashes and a pursed lip to signify sexy wickedness, but that was about it.
And JF may have often simply changed the hair when introducing a new character, but Lordy, is there a greater comic book 'do than Night Girl's?
Still in part two, re: the LSH materialising around Superboy, maybe the script didn't allow room for a big shot of all the members in distinct poses, going 'Grrrr'?
Part three, and it's wonderful to see you becoming 'one of us now'. That clubhouse NEVER looked big enough, so its placement in that panel is fine by me. As a young 'un I assumed that was just the teat of a super-breast hidden underground (er, sorry, dunno where that came from. Underground levels, that's what I mean). Nowadays we'd assume that 'it's bigger on the inside'.
ReplyDeleteI'm looking at your comments on the Avenue of Super-Heroes scene and to me, Polar Boy doesn't look irrefutably 'wrong'. For me to believe that, I'd have to know how big the statues are, for one thing, and without knowing how big the buildings are, and how far away they sit, I can't.
I've noticed how the most familiar everyday objects - a can of Heinz Beans, say, or a Mars Bar wrapper - can look very strange if you look at them for more than the few seconds necessary to recognise them. There's likely a psychological term ... I wonder if in looking for hours at the work of JF to see why it disturbs you (I'm a simple soul who would think 'not my favourite' and read on) you're 'over-reading' the oddities? I see JF's work as not madly exciting, but nearer to a non-judgmental 'banal' than 'disturbing'.
I love that alien pirate market panel. I think you're being a tad heart-hearted saying the Legionnaires are 'failing to do anything of interest at all'. Hey, they've brought us into a wonderland, isn't that something? And they're reacting to it, mister!
Still, you certainly have interesting points to make about JF's horizontal panels often being divided into three, providing more interest than many artists that followed could pack into a splash.
That panel with Jungle King and the Omnibeast ... fascinating argument, but I can't see the problem. I think you're saying that because we in the West read left to right, the beastie should be following that 'rule', moving in that direction. But is this indeed a visual/comic book rule? Must the animal be heading right to lead the reader to the next panel? I think it could be safely assumed the young boy or girl was heading there anyway. When I was in children's comics - alongside such rules as 'red mastheads are best' - was 'don't have the cover characters looking away from the page', the thinking being that this directed the potential reader's eyes to another comic on the racks. Inside, though, visual free-for-alls were the order of the day.
And so, because that panel has lots going on within it, and the reader, having bought the book, can be relied upon to read on, I'd say it works.
It's funny, I read ('reed' not 'red') your description of the Garth funeral sequence, which I've looked at dozens of times over the years, and redraw it in my mind, ready to see a panel that is Just Wrong. But I look at it, and it's fine. The composition is calm, just right for a moment of stillness. And it's surely proper that the members look stoic, they're Legionnaires, honouring a colleague and friend in public, having reserved all reasonable histrionics for their private moments.
I'm sure, though, that you're right in your suggestion that JF deliberately provided compositional distancing - a Fortean Buffer Zone - to stop the kids getting too upset. (I've never seen Disney's Snow White - I wonder how dwarfs gathered by the glass coffin after her death, so similar to Lightning Lad's frozen coma, was approached visually).
Part four - I love this series! I agree with most of your points on divided focus in panels.
ReplyDeleteBut re: the panel of Pete and Jimmy watching Brainy play chess. Again, who's to say that's not exactly the approach writer Hamilton or Siegel asked for? Or, why must Brainy be the most important element that should really be focused on, rather than our viewpoint characters?
I know I sound like Mr Contradictory, but I'm actually Mr Engaged. So, while the panel of Subs swearing in has, for you, 'a strange lack of focus', I see a necessary and pleasing shared focus - the members are of equal importance and doing exactly the same thing ... who would you say should be the star of the scene, and why? (Aside - isn't Stone Boy simply the most perfect character for JF's cool approach?)
And regarding Bouncing Boy zooming around that training panel, I doubt it's a bid to stop the eye resting (though from your arguments, I'd have thought that would be a good thing, refreshing), he simply has to have speed/movement lines to show he's bouncing, as opposed to just jumping up in the air. I wouldn't ascribe any motive to JF's placement of him other than to show one more member displaying his power.
I'd love to see Grant Morrison work with a Forte-style artist ... who was it that did the best homage in the Eighties? Craig Hamilton? Howard Bender, who did the Forte section of LSH #300? Anyway, I'm sure someone could have a crack - assign the job to that cheeky whippersnapper George Perez, I say!
Yes indeedy, that panel of eeeevil dancing super-girls is the best picture of the Silver Age, hands down!
And here's part five! That panel of weird monuments is lovely, though I don't see how it fits into the thirds idea; previous examples can sometime be seen as montages, three scenes Forte has perhaps decided to run as one, but this seems quite the one-piece. I see the three groups of two members, but I don't see them as, I dunno, motivating different parts of the panel.
That panel with the atomic aftermath is indeed marvellous, and, I think, even better than you note. For I'd argue that our heroes aren't 'typically undemonstrative' - click on the image again, for bigness, at look at Matter-Eater Lad ... I see fear and trepidation in the furrowed brow, the quivering lip.
The final panel. of the wind-blown Legionnaires, is another goody, though again, I'm having to force the thirding which you see, on it. Nevertheless, your explanation of its circular virtues are spot-on.
Your concluding list is amusing, and in many ways an accurate representation of John Forte, but surely you could compile a similar list for many artists - Jack Kirby characters must have blocky fingers and knees up to their heads; George Perez's must be standing amid rubble and clad in the gaudiest costumes known to man; no matter how angelic, all of Mike Sekowsky's women should look thoroughly demonic. And so on - isn't it just a question of style?
Maybe, not being of a hugely artistic bent, I'm simply failing to appreciate such things as JF's 'naive' archicteture and landscapes, all I see are planets and buildings as Forte drew them.
What I do know is that this is one of the most incisive, fascinating pieces on the Legion I've had the pleasure to read. Thanks Colin!
(Just thought should you collect this series - and you should - you might call it Horizontal Hold, as that's what JF's art now has on you!)
Hello Mart:- thank you for taking a look at these pieces. I’d be dead pleased if they filled a minute or two of train time.
ReplyDeleteIt’s odd how you and I come from such different opinions on Mr Forte, though I’m very happy to put my hand in the air and admit I was thoroughly wrong! But the published opinions on Mr Forte’s artwork that I’ve come across are nearly always negative, and at best rather patronising, as if his work is tolerable in the context of its time rather than good and valuable in itself. And I’d’ve been in that corner before writing this too. I can’t think of a single professional or relatively well-known writer who’s been fully supportive of Mr Forte’s achievements. (I’d love to read of anything positive you can point me to!)
On Wayne Boring; there are some fantastic drawings of Clark Kent and Lori Lemaris huddled against the cold in the mermaid’s first story in Superman 129. In fact, they’re so powerfully fine that the typical stiffness elsewhere in the story make me wonder whether his style was one of convenience, and that when he wanted to, when he was moved, he was capable of some remarkable stuff.
I do agree with you about the lack of variety in the range of many comicbook artists both then and now. But I think Mr Forte was different in that his range was even narrower! I don’t see that as a problem. I see it as part of his charm, I truly do. But his default setting was empty-faced rather than, for example, smiling and sweet. Mind you, he did do a great line in unexpectedly evil-looking women, didn’t he?
I do see what you mean about the figures in the panel where everyone materialises around Kal-El. But it’s less the matter of “Grrr” and more the fact of the “static-ness” of the characters. Everyone in the period had their stock poses, but what marks Mr Forte’s stock period was the lack of engagement in his characters. I would imagine it was actually harder to present figures that passive and disengaged than it’d be to reproduce some cartoon representation of anger etc.
But I love that now, of course.
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Hello Mart:- and re-reading these pieces in response to your words has reminded me of how much I learned to respect and enjoy Mr Forte’s work. I knew it wouldn’t be a popular week of pieces when I started – far far more for what I was writing & how I was writing it than the subject matter, of course – and it’s still one of the least visited parts of the blogs. But I learned so much from that week – seriously – that it makes me realise once again that my blog is really about me grasping for just a touch more understanding, and that I shouldn’t ever worry about Statcounter and the like. But, yes, I was indeed becoming one of you at this point. Self-indoctrination for APA 247?
ReplyDeleteI wonder whether I’m being unfair on the perspective in that Avenue scene? I honestly don’t think so. I mentally draw a vanishing point over that panel and the perspective does look poor. I can see a purpose to Mr F’s perspective, or lack of it, but I don’t think I can see a conventional command of the skill there. I wonder if I’m being snotty-minded, or whether your youthful exposure to, and love for, this style causes it to seem more conventional than it really is? I think it’s a fair point to wonder if I wasn’t seeing something that’s not there. I’m tempted to point out that most criticisms of Mr Forte’s work mention his perspective, or problems with it, but since I’m not going to accept their conclusions, I can’t fall back on their workings!
The strange thing is that I don’t mean to be critical when I say that the Legionnaires are often doing nothing. Or rather, I meant it less and less as the week rolled on. I mean everything of what I said about his figures stiffness adding to the magic of his work and the particular effects it achieved. But since much of that effect was caused by the lack of interest in much of what the characters were doing in themselves, well, I wouldn’t want a more dynamic range of body language on show. That would not only make Mr Forte’s work less unique, it would also make it less effective.
On how I’ve read those panels; it IS opinion, Mart, I fully accept that, and I know no “rule” which would justify my reading. But I do believe that having those strange panels where the eye is forever being pulled backwards and forwards without resolution creates a peculiar effect. And here I must say again that I was trying to be honest that my opinion was changing as I wrote. I think blogging is the only medium where the “writer” can show that they’re changing, that they’re writing not as an authority but as, if I may, a witness to a process. And by the last piece, I was fully converted to the worth of Mr Forte’s technique. And so, while I’d agree with my comment in part 3 that, for example, the reader could get “trapped … watching the impassive, undynamic Legionnaires failing to do anything of interest at all”, I’d also say that by part 5 I was regarding that dream-like stillness as a beguiling rather than an alienating effect. And as I said elsewhere on the page, such panels could be to a “source of joy”, especially to younger children. I mention elsewhere a suspicion that children might find it easier at an early stage of cognitive development to engage with similar-looking, child-like faces. I think there might be something in the psychology of that now, but I also think those figures are absolutely fascinating in themselves.
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ReplyDeleteI love your phrase “Fortean Buffer Zone”. I wish I had your ability to make points in such a concise fashion. Still, I’m only 40% into my 10 000 hours. A year and a half of this and I might be pruning the words better. And, no, I can’t recall the funeral scene in Snow White. I shall ask the Splendid Wife of it in the morning.
I know it seems like a cop-out to say “but my opinions changed” in response to your excellent points. But writing this has helped me realise that I do believe that Mr Forte’s work was stiff and static, but that I see that as being an essential component of his work’s effect. And it’s that effect on me that I guess I’m most interested in. I want to learn about how comic book creators achieve what they do, which sounds terribly pompous, but I do. I’m like most of us who blog, I’ve got the non-fiction book and the novel and the comic book scripts on the go, because I love the nuts and bolts of writing. And so really what I was trying to do, I see, was LEARN what I could grasp – rightly or wrongly – of Mr Forte’s effect. But the effect his work has on me isn’t of course what it has on you, and so all I can offer for the worth of my opinions for anyone else is that they might sharpen up other people’s quite differing opinions through contrast.
Your question on the Brainy-being-watched panel is again a quite valid one. My view-point is again a personal one, but I hope it reflects something of common practise. How would this scene be typically punched up to achieve a more powerfully immediate effect? And I don’t think there’s another artist in the history of comics who would’ve created a panel in such a state of balance and stillness. Of course, I’m now convinced that’s Mr Forte’s glory, but it is standard issue to identify POV characters, to extract specific emotional meanings, and to grab the reader’s attention through a variety of devices such as lighting and perspective. And my argument would be that what’s remarkable is that Mr Forte does none of these things! To have everyone in a panel of equal importance/non-importance would in most artist’s work certainly be a matter of saying what you have for the Subs. But Mr Forte is ALWAYS doing that. It’s not a choice that he makes for specific effect. It’s what he does. He’s the anti-Kirby. His purpose isn’t to shake up a scene and create the illusion of movement and power and importance. His purpose seems to quite the opposite. And in that, despite our differing opinions, yes, Stone Boy IS “the most perfect character” for Mr F’s “cool approach”.
I must find my copy of LSH 300 and remind myself of Mr Bender’s homage. I’ve certainly never seen anyone draw off Mr Forte’s work. His influence seems to have been stillborn beyond his marvellous costumes, though I’m no Legion expert at all and I’ve no doubt missed a great deal indeed.
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cont)
ReplyDeleteFor me, the trick to the tripartite organisation of the alien-statue scene IS the placement of the Legionnaires in three group of two, their attention focusing on three distinct groups of artefacts, the statues to the left, the statues in to the right of centre, and the extremely odd structure to the right. It seems to me that there are three narratives there, and that Mr Forte typically organised his panels that way. But then, can I come within a lifetime of justifying such a reading beyond putting “I think” before it? No. But by believing it to be so, it gives me another tool in my writer’s tool-kit when I’m trying to write a panel-description which evokes such stillness and strangeness.
I’m writing this line with the word document in one corner and the bomb-devastated world-panel underneath. And I disagree with you, Mart, for those characters are barely breaking sweat in the middle of a holocaust. If you took the same characters, the same drawings, and placed them in a supermarket perplexed at what crisps they’d been sent out to buy, the expressions would be the same. Well, that’s what I see, and here it’s important to say something I’ve meant to many times before while reading your site, namely that we often see things quite, quite differently. Because I enjoy your writing and respect your reasoning, I find your work a necessary and highly functional antidote to my own ego. When we see even single panels quite differently, it helps stop me feeling that I’m ever “right”.
On my concluding list; I know it was a folly, and did own to that, but I do think there’s some small place for such a thing where my own education is concerned. I have a feeling that in a few years time I may want to spend a while rekindling my interest in matters artistic. It was a road nearly taken. Indeed, drawing and designing was a road later taken up again and then abandoned for the financial security of teaching. It may need my John Forte checklist when I decide to pick up my pencils for fun one day …
Thanks for your thoughts, Mart. I do accept that a good 99% of what I wrote was pure opinion. But though I regret not being better informed, I did enjoy asking questions of Mr Forte’s work. And if I didn’t get the answers, the process did end up in the “Horizontal Hold” you quite rightly mention. How I would’ve loved the opportunity to just sit down and ask him about the daft things I speculated upon. I bet he would’ve been a kind and helpful interviewee.
Well, that’s another of the unprovable things his work seems to suggest to me!