I’d like to change the focus this time and discuss Kirby’s creative process involving collaboration in greater detail. From what we know about the King, he was generally happiest working more or less independently of other writers. However, there are many who believe that Kirby’s best and certainly most commercially successful work was in collaboration with writer Stan Lee. There has been a good amount of ink used discussing just who did what in that process.

In conventional comic production involving a separate writer and artist team, the writer provides the artist with a full script to work from. Lee is famous for having instituted the Marvel Method, wherein an artist would plot a story based on the sketchiest of outlines provided by the writer.  Once the story was drawn the artist would supply the writer with explanatory notes in the page’s margin, whereupon the writer would fill in the final script. Lee believed that his artists were strong plotters and allowing them creative freedom would result in a better story. Certainly, in the case of Jack Kirby, he was correct.

Recently, I saw a film clip of Stan Lee looking at Jack Kirby’s original artwork for Fantastic four #12 for the first time since it had been published. One of the first things that caught Lee’s eye were the margin notes in the panel borders, that he initially assumed belonged to Kirby. Lee started to explain the Marvel Method of writing, wherein he would give Kirby a rough idea of the plot, Kirby would elaborate the plot, pencil the book and deliver to Lee with Kirby’s notes for scripting in the margins. Halfway through his explanation, Lee realizes that the margin notes are his own, written as reminders to him, prior to final scripting.

This exchange raises an interesting question. Just when did the process known as the Marvel Method actually begin and what was the nature of the creative process prior to its inception? Several Comic Book historians allege that in the beginning, Stan Lee provided his artists with full scripts. Lee’s brother, Larry Lieber has stated in interviews that he wrote full scripts for Kirby as well. However, Kirby and several of his co-workers claim that the King seldom followed scripts to the letter, either using them as a jumping off point or discarding them completely.

This would partially explain Stan Lee’s need to write margin notes for himself on Kirby’s artwork. If Kirby commonly changed the direction of the story given him, Lee would require more than his original script as a guide. He would, in effect need to re-script the story after receiving it from Kirby in order to accommodate the artist’s alterations.

Until we are presented with a complete Lee/Kirby or a Lieber/Kirby script and a story to compare it to, we cannot be sure how completely Kirby followed their scripts. What we do have is a fair selection of original art from that period. This page is from Fantastic Four #12, the issue that Lee was perusing on camera.

If we study Lee’s margin notes, we generally see that they say more or less what he will later elaborate in the balloons above: The scribble below saying “50 G’s, Enough to flatten, et cetera” has become two balloons spoken by separate characters.

On this page in Fantastic Four twenty, we still see Lee’s margin notes, so we can assume that the Marvel method has not yet gone into effect. What we do see is something exceedingly interesting. Notice that the third panel is drawn by another artist, which is almost certainly Steve Ditko. This is a case of a last minute change being made in the story prior to printing.

Comic Book historian, Bob Bailey states that Kirby was probably not available to make the change and Ditko was on hand. Therefore, he re-did the panel.

The earliest Fantastic Four page scan that I can find with Kirby’s notes is from F.F. Annual #2, appearing in the summer of 1964. Comic Book historian, Nick Caputo concludes that the Jack Kirby’s margin notes first appear in The Avengers #6, dated July 1964. If one looks at the notes in the upper margin, it is clear that it is Kirby’s lettering. Thus we can probably date the beginning of the Marvel Method to this approximate period.

Nick Caputo also says that artist Dick Ayers claims that he in fact was the first artist to provide notes for Stan Lee early in 1964, as this Giant Man panel from that year suggests.

Caputo: “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Stan took over the hero strips three months earlier, providing plot synopsis’ for Dick Ayers and Don Heck for the first time. Before this they were working from full scripts provided by Robert Bernstein, Ernie Hart and Larry Lieber.  Stan’s notes are seen in Avengers # 5, so apparently sometime between May and July 1964 dated issues Jack began adding notes, likely at the request of Lee. I’ve seen Bill Everett’s notes on the original art of Daredevil # 1, which appeared three months earlier, so it is highly likely that Heck and Ayers began around the same time or earlier.”

The question still remains. What precisely was the method used for constructing stories prior to the inception of the “Marvel Method’? In most cases one can be fairly certain that full scripts were used. Kirby is another case entirely.

We’ll give Kirby historian and biographer Mark Evanier the last word. It is probably not a great leap of logic to apply this description to other writer’s scripts as well.

“As for who plotted the monster stories scripted by Larry Lieber, that’s one of those cases where Stan says one thing and Jack said another. Apparently, Jack would give Stan a lot of plot ideas and then Stan would select what he liked from the verbal pile. Based on talking with Stan, Jack, Larry, Don Heck, Sol Brodsky and Don Rico, I would say that Jack plotted some, Stan plotted some and a lot were Stan polishing a Jack idea. Then the whole thing was handed to Larry, who would write a script. And then Jack would fiddle a lot with the scripts.”

Sounds like a reasonable explanation to me.

1-Fantastic Four #12- Stan Lee, Jack Kirby

2-Ibid, detail

3-Fantastic four #20- Stan Lee, Jack Kirby

4-Ibid, detail

5-Avengers #6 -Stan Lee, Jack Kirby

6-Tales to Astonish #52-Stan Lee, Dick Ayers

One of the first Jobs that Jack Kirby had was working as an in-betweener for the Max Fleischer Animation Studios. The nature of the job was to provide the action in-between the animation cells drawn by another artist. As the illusion of movement in films is provided by a sequence of frames per second, Kirby learned an important lesson from the experience with Fleisher’s studio. What if one applied the same concept to sequential art? How much more dynamic would your work be if you followed up an action shot with a series of near continuous motion?

Returning again to Scott McCloud’s book Understanding Comics, we encounter the concept of closure. This term describes the adjustment that our brain makes when confronted by a series of panels that are designed to tell a story. We see these panels individually at first, but closure allows us to make a connection between them in order to make the story cohesive.

If the panels above contained disconnected images, this would make closure more difficult, as our brains would have to work hard to relate them to one another. As it is, Kirby gives us a near continuous flow of action, as we see Jelko’s gun first shot from his hand, and then repeatedly whisked away by the Rawhide Kid’s bullets.

If one thinks about this, the choice of which panel transition to make is nearly infinite, but it is the choice that sets the pacing of the story. Depending upon the pacing, a story can be told in five pages or fifty. Of course the flow of the narrative alone can make a non sequitur more coherent, but looking at Kirby’s work, one can see how much more effective a story can be when a good deal of intelligence is applied to the choice of sequential images.

One of Kirby’s most amazing action sequences is this Captain America page from Tales of Suspense #85. Cap is fighting a French Savate kickboxing master named Batroc, who gives as good as he gets in this epic duel. Here again is action to action sequencing at its finest as Batroc rushes Cap with rear leg extended backwards towards the viewer, In the next panel we see that same leg kicking fore ward vainly as Cap connects with a smashing right hook and then follows up with a shield bash. Relying on his legs as usual, Batroc counters with a leg sweep, taking Cap down to the mat. Our hero retaliates with a chop to the head and finishes the villain off, demonstrating the superiority of good old American fisticuffs.

The point is that closure enables us to follow the action as if it was continuous, and Kirby’s amazing ability as an in-betweener is seen in his choices. The continuity from panel to panel is certainly not anything close to a complete follow through of the previous shot’s action, but Kirby always presents us with enough information to make the flow of the action dynamic. For instance, panel five has Cap striking in prone position with his right leg pointing fore ward to the right, which flows into his right leg in panel six as he rises to deliver a right cross to Batroc.

As I’ve mentioned previously, it is possible to depict the flow of time in a single panel nearly as well as in a series of frames. In this shot, we see Prince Namor the Sub-Mariner walking imperiously through a crowd. We follow the procession of talking heads from left to right until we come to Namor’s confident figure in the center. What we are actually seeing here is the upper portion of a circular composition whose extreme left rim is the man with the purple hat. What we observe on the far right is the figure in the yellow hat pointing back at Namor and keeping the focus on him. The remainder of the circle is below the panel border.

It may also be instructive to divide this panel in lattices, which as you may or may not remember is a mathematical physics term referring to a regular, periodic configuration of points, particles or objects throughout an area or space. If we can imagine each figure occupying its own rectangular box or slice, we can easily comprehend the depth of field in this singular panel and the division of space/time herein as well. The main point is that the actions in this panel are not simultaneous but occur in the left to right sequence, just as a series of panels do.

In certain cases, a sequential artist like Kirby needs to convey a moment in time that is instantaneous and cataclysmic. In such cases, Kirby often relies on the art form of collage to depict the sudden shock of such an event. Using his flair for composition, the artist constructs a devastating explosion of a Nazi stronghold, by taking various fragments of unrelated photographs.

The composition gives us the impression of a sudden tremendous up thrust of energy, as the twin mushroom clouds scatter debris in all directions.

We tend to see the collage panel as a separate, tumultuous event because of its photo reality, distinct from the preceding panels. Kirby is as surgically precise as any film editor, as he constructs his visual narratives, and that is why he takes pride first and foremost in his storytelling abilities.

Image 1- Rawhide Kid #28 Original art, Jack Kirby, Stan Lee

Image 2- Tales of Suspense #85, Jack Kirby, Stan Lee

Image 3- Fantastic Four #6, Jack Kirby, Stan Lee

Image 4- Sgt. Fury#13 Original art, Jack Kirby, Stan Lee

Although opinions differ on the subject, many of Kirby’s fans believe that the King reached his artistic peak in 1972 with a sequence of three issues of The New Gods from #6 through #8. The Glory Boat in issue #6 begins with the spectacular demolition of a freighter by a demonic Whale like creature. The two -page spread showing the boats destruction is an amazing display of a fragment of time, as the Leviathan’s battering ram smashes through the hull, flinging scores of bodies into the sea. The eye, sweeping down the shape of the protruding tusk on the left immediately focuses on the ram and the figure suspended above it, and then travels rightward to the various figures in different positions within this incredible deep space composition. Even the lettered sound effects such as the bold diagonal Krack tie the composition together.

In this tableaux, we can imagine the entirety of this horrific incident, from impact to penetration to the ejection of human and other debris.

Like Melville’s Moby Dick, the sea beast here is a personification of destructive nature. It sets off a tale of division, loss and finally redemption within a nuclear family that represents the whole of humanity.  The battle waged aboard the small wooden vessel is cataclysmic, bringing death to several of the antagonists.

Deep Six – Jack Kirby, New Gods #6

The first panel here is a whirling maelstrom of violence, as Orion savagely smashes his Deep Six foes. Kirby uses the motion of the lanyard attached to the battle-ax to emphasize the violence of the melee. The distortion of musculature in the figures reaches an expressionistic zenith in this period of Kirby’s work.

As in the past, Kirby is dealing with larger, archetypal forces in this story as he leads up to his ultimate conception of the Source in the following issue, number seven’s The Pact.

The Pact is the story that brings the elements of the Fourth World together in one multi faceted arc. The cohesive breadth of this story has been a template for scores of imitators. The protagonist, Izaya is a warrior turned prophet of Biblical proportions who is first seen relaxing with his lady, Avia in a garden that seems to represent an Eden-like paradise. The murder of the lady at the hands of a villain precipitates a cataclysmic war that tears the universe of the New Gods asunder. This double page spread is a high point in Kirby-style Apocalyptic mayhem.

War – Jack Kirby, New Gods #7

The bolts of energy that weave around the page tie the various elements together, leading the eye to the flying figures at above right and slicing down and back to the left. The canvas seethes with Kirby Krackle, a sure sign that the King is in High gear. This scene is very near to complete abstraction, and yet it is a vivid depiction of total devastation.

There is so much mayhem within this issue that we are nearly unprepared for its peaceful resolution, as young Orion, armed with a vicious weapon confronts his stepfather to be. Izaya, who is now Highfather, soothes the enraged boy and gets him to surrender his weapon as well as his distrust. The page is dominated by the symbolic use of hands, which Kirby has always employed to the greatest effect.

Highfather – Jack Kirby, New Gods #7

Orion enters the room poised to strike, but his hand is halted by Highfather’s own, in mid stroke. Highfather stands, and we see his hand holding his shepherd’s staff. Next we see his outstretched palm, which dominates the panel, extended toward Orion, who still shrinks back with uncertainty. Finally, we see the two hands together as Orion finally relinquishes his weapon. Again symbolically, Highfather can now turn his back on the boy, knowing that Orion is intrigued enough to follow him.

The blurb in the last panel informs us that we will move foreward once more, proceeding to the Death Wish of Terrible Turpin, and this is where the series reaches another climax of conflict between man and Demigod. The titular Turpin is a man of such overwhelming spirit that he can stand uncowed against Orion’s fierce half brother, Kalibak. Turpin’s remark, upon seeing the ferocious Kaliback atop a building is, “King Kong on a rooftop is no more dangerous than a nervous punk with a pistol. The idea is to give as good as you get.” Kirby is doing yet another riff on Kong, whom I have previously noted as a consistent source of inspiration for the artist.

Turpin, a stand in for Kirby is as relentless as is the King himself. Taking enough punishment to fell ten lesser men, Turpin just keeps on coming, astounding Kalibak with his tenacity.

Orion reaches Kaliback before he can kill Turpin, and the two antagonists carry their conflict to a huge sign high above the city’s rooftops.

Kalibak – Jack Kirby, New Gods #7

This is an incredible four panel face off, with the panels mirroring the grid like structure of the girders that the two warriors straddle. The figures in the upper tier of panels are so full of kinetic energy that they threaten to burst out of their holding outlines. Kaliback’s vicious kick to Orion’s chest is an explosive release of the seething pent up force in the first panel.

As small as they are, the last two frames give us a wonderful illusion of the deep space of a cityscape. It is the scale of the buildings in comparison to the sign and the figures that creates this wonderful illusion of depth. This is something that Kirby does so well. He is capable of creating the total sense of an environment by using small details to suggest the mood and surroundings that he places his characters within.

In the nick of time, Lightray snatches Orion from the rooftop, as a tremendous bolt of energy fells Kalibak. We have the feeling here that all the opponents have suffered terribly and no one appears to have won. Even Orion has been forced to reveal  the face of the darkness inside of him.

Kirby again shows us the perspective of someone who has faced war at close range and understands its often ugly and senseless nature. What we know for certain is that there is more here in the conflicts of the Forth World than the bluster of battle.

A great deal has been written about Stan Lee’s work as a writer with Jack Kirby. Many are of the opinion that Kirby did his best work with Lee and that the artist’s solo work suffers in comparison to their collaboration. As popular as this notion is, it is still merely an opinion. What is certain is that whether alone or in collaboration, Kirby’s vision is unique and his ability to translate the ideas of a story is second to none.

At some point in the sixties, Lee acknowledged that he began working with Kirby and several of the other Marvel artists, utilizing a technique he refers to as the Marvel Method. This entailed having a brief story conference with the artist, whereupon the latter would plot and draw the story, to be later dialogued by Lee. It is difficult to know when this style of writing began, but we have a pretty good idea that an artist such as Kirby, who had been involved in creating his own stories and characters for his entire life would probably have been making significant plot contributions from the beginning of his association with Lee.

Kirby was consistently capable of taking a fairly pedestrian concept and injecting it with drama, simply by his visual choices and sequencing style. This is always clear when one considers his dynamic way with action. Often, the artist would begin his story with a bit of explosive action, such as a splash panel of the Rawhide Kid leaping from his horse onto a moving stagecoach. However, Kirby could just as often begin his story less explosively, with a shot of a character entering a saloon, as in this panel from Rawhide Kid #28.

Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, Rawhide Kid #28, Marvel Masterworks Rawhide Kid volume 2

The sequence is deceptively simple, but in fact it is masterfully composed; the eye enters the panel with the bartender’s figure on the left, and travels down to his moustache, which points to the Kid. However, you will also notice the eye may choose to continue to move down the bartender’s arm to the crook of his elbow and to his hand. The eye continues rightward and up the blue shaded drinker and then leftward across the row of heads to the small figure of the Kid. Very few artists possess the skill and the intelligence to pull off a composition of this sort. Kirby has created an entire environment of hostility here, foreshadowing the conflict to come. The small blurb in the upper right hand corner informs us that this story is by Stan Lee, but in this case it is not the writer who has set the tone. It is the artist who has set the stage. It is a very simple story, after all. A man walks into a bar, orders a glass of milk and gets into a fight over it. In the end, it is the interpretation that makes the story a dramatic tour de force.

This idea cannot be over stressed. Unless a writer is providing an artist with complete scripts, with specific instructions for camera angles and continuity, the artist is given the dramatic choice of pacing the story, and in Kirby’s case, one can be fairly certain that the artist is in charge of such decisions. Take as another example this sequence later in the same story, where that Kid is ducking a hail of gunfire.

Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, Rawhide Kid #28, Marvel Masterworks Rawhide Kid volume 2

As he retreats behind a post, we can see his expression, squinting involuntarily to avoid the flying wood chips. Then the camera zooms in for a transitional close up as the Kid regains his resolve. The POV changes dramatically in the third panel to the Kid’s back as he draws his guns. In the fourth panel he has disarmed a half dozen adversaries.

Again, it is the artist’s choices that create the excitement of this sequence. Even if the script reads, “Kid ducks, draws his guns and fires”, this still leaves the artist a nearly infinite array of interpretative choices.

Kirby is nearly always innovative in the way he begins a story. Observe in this case the dramatic use of huge eyes that dominate the page, containing the images of the hunted Rawhide Kid.

Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, Rawhide Kid #31, Marvel Masterworks Rawhide Kid volume 2

Throughout the series, the Rawhide Kid is depicted as a hunted man. In nearly every episode, he is shown attempting to evade the law or avoid a fight or an encounter that might draw unwanted attention to him. He is nearly always unsuccessful. Again and again he is forced to reveal his amazing prowess with a gun and then he must flee again to escape capture.

Obviously, this concept can get old fairly quickly, and yet Kirby was consistently capable of crafting inventive ways to emphasize the Kid’s dilemma.

For example if we look at another page from Rawhide Kid #28, we see the Kid hiding in the shadows, trying to escape detection in a town full of lawmen. The splash panel shows him flattened against the side of a building, while around the corner, several lawmen are standing. Here, Kirby has created one of his panel within a panel compositions, with the Kid isolated in his own space, the secure shadow world of the fugitive. As soon as he steps out of the shadows, he becomes a victim of the world of predation.

Jack Kirby and Stan Lee, Rawhide Kid #28, Marvel Masterworks volume 2

Again, this appears to be a relatively simple visual story telling device to convey the emotion of isolation combined with the fear of being apprehended, and yet if you alter the composition in the slightest, it is rendered less effective. If for example, we make the space that the Kid occupies smaller, we diminish his psychic as well as physical importance in the picture. The lawmen occupy a space roughly approximating that of a doorway. If the kid steps through, he abandons his sanctuary and enters their world.

We instantly believe the worlds that Kirby has constructed, without question. It all seems to logical and matter of fact.

It is only when we take the time to analyze his work that we realize how much mastery and intelligence is involved in what appear to be simple, straight fore ward artistic decisions.

“The World’s Greatest Comic Magazine.” What a mouthful of hyperbole.  And yet once this claim was made, it rapidly became a self-fulfilling prophecy. The origins of the comic that changed the face of comics are fairly well documented, and yet the story is full of uncertainties and conflicting testimony. Consensus generally accepts the account that Marvel’s publisher Martin Goodman wanted a super hero comic book to match the success of DC Comics’ latest hit, The Justice League of America. The year was 1961, and Goodman had been publishing a series of comics featuring monsters with names such as Fin Fang Foom and Gorgilla. The lead story was generally written by Stan Lee and drawn by Jack Kirby. Goodman approached his editor and chief writer, Stan Lee to come up with his superhero team. According to Lee, the writer prepared a synopsis and presented it to artist Jack Kirby.

Here, we have our first conflict. Jack Kirby, as you probably already know, was an artist gifted with one of the greatest imaginations in the history of comics or for that matter fantasy literature. Any story Kirby may have drawn has almost certainly been at least partially plotted by him. Kirby’s method of working has been described by Kirby historian, Mark Evanier, in his book “Kirby, King of Comics”, describing a strip called, Challengers of the Unknown.

“Dave Wood provided scripts, which pretty much meant sitting with Kirby, hearing him spin off a plot and then going home and typing it up. Jack rewrote whatever he was given anyway.”

Stan Lee would eventually describe his style of working with Kirby as the origin of what became known as “The Marvel Method”. Lee discovered that working with an artist as imaginative as Kirby made it possible for him to provide Kirby with the bare minimum of plot details, in order to generate a story. Lee would begin the process by giving the artist a story outline. After he received the completed story from Kirby, including  Kirby’s margin notes Lee would fill in the dialog.

We can have no idea when Lee began working this way with Kirby. Fairly recently, he has unearthed a synopsis for the FF’s first issue to verify his initial creation of the concept, which could just as well have been written after a story conference with Kirby.

What makes the story more convoluted and interesting is the similarity both in look and origin between the Fantastic Four and the first appearance of The Challengers of The Unknown, a comic book that Kirby had done several years earlier for DC comics. The premise of the book is the story of four adventurers who band together, after they realize that they are living on borrowed time.

Here is a page showing the group making a vow just after their plane has crashed. This origin sequence bears a striking resemblance to that of the Fantastic Four. There is obviously a good deal of Kirby’s creative input in the Four’s creation.

1 - Challengers

In both stories, the four adventurers crash their plane or rocket in the woods. Then, they stand in a circle and pledge themselves to a cause as a team. The Challengers will later dress in purple jump suits, which are similar to the outfits that the Fantastic Four are wearing when their rocket ship crashes after an unsuccessful journey to outer space.

2 - FF #1

The strangest thing about the Fantastic Four is probably the circumstances that brought about their creation, which essentially sets them apart from nearly every other superhero team, and very likely had little to do with Lee or Kirby. It is the fact that Martin Goodman’s company was doing fairly well publishing several comics that featured monsters as their stars. We can then surmise that the decision to include a monster in the line-up of the Fantastic Four was based on the fact that Goodman was hedging his bets. He had decided to take the plunge with a superhero comic, but to assure that he retained his core audience, he probably instructed Lee and Kirby to include a monster among the leading characters.

Ironically, this strange decision was responsible for the success of the Fantastic Four and indeed it could be argued, for the entire Marvel line. Because of the Thing’s monstrous condition, an obvious conflict was created. Ben Grimm’s resentment was the catalyst for the entire concept of heroes with problems. Gradually, the Thing began to evolve, to grow and learn to deal with his issues, but not before a good deal of emotional trauma and tension within the group.   Ben would continually be tortured by being unexpectedly transformed back and forth, from his human self to the Thing, as in this segment from FF#4. Notice the beauty of this transition as an enraged Ben Grimm shakes his fist at the retreating Human Torch, until, suddenly aware of his transformation in the second panel, he sinks to the ground in the third frame, overcome with grief.

3 - Ben to Thing

So, in essence, we have here a fairly ordinary team of heroes, whose powers for the most part have been seen before. A man with stretching abilities is certainly not an original concept, nor is an invisible woman. The Human Torch is a retread of a Golden Age character. It is only with the introduction of a monster that the literal wild card is revealed. It seems that it is nearly irrelevant who specifically created the Fantastic Four. It is clear that the fates created the Fantastic Four by putting in place the circumstances in which such a concept could bear fruit. Goodman, Kirby and Lee are all responsible, but in the end it is the unique creative abilities that were unleashed in the moment that make the idea into so much more than its humble origins could provide.

The series becomes a springboard for some of the wildest concepts ever to be seen, in and out of comics, as the four heroes try to cope with a changing world. The cosmic sixties was the perfect time for them to evolve. Here, we see our four heroes staring out at Galactus, in shock and awe. The expression on their faces might just as well been on ours, confronting the uncertainties and yet also the wonders that faced us in that wild decade. I for one felt more secure in that moment, having spent much of that time of magic and mystery engrossed in the World’s Greatest Comic Magazine.

4 - Fantastic fear

Image 1 – Showcase #6 Challengers of the Unknown, Jack Kirby, Dave Wood, DC Comics
Image 2 – Fantastic Four #1 Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, Marvel Comics
Image 3 – Fantastic Four #4 Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, Marvel Comics
Image 4 – Fantastic Four #49 Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, Marvel Comics

Kirby has said on several occasions that he identifies with the Thing, the grumpy orange skinned monster he co-created with Stan Lee in the first issue of the Fantastic Four. The son of Austrian Jewish immigrants, Kirby grew up on the mean streets of New York’s lower east side. The area was teeming with rival street gangs, and as the artist details in his Street Code comic, he fought nearly every day to survive. Just how much anger Kirby carried inside him is difficult to tell, but he certainly channeled it into his vital and energetic artwork.

In 1933, a film appeared that must have exploded like a rush of primordial energy in the impressionable brain of the then sixteen old Kirby. The impact of King Kong is difficult to appreciate today, but suffice it to say that nothing like it had ever been seen before. The cutting edge technology of stop motion animation allowed the filmmakers to create the illusion of a gargantuan creature in a primeval lost world and then see him transported to 20th century New York City.

King Kong has been analyzed extensively, yielding interpretations running the gamut from a metaphor for the subjugation of man’s primitive instincts to that of the enslavement of African Americans. What is certain is that Kong’s treatment at the hands of a callous humanity makes him an extremely sympathetic and tragic figure and it is easy to identify with his plight.

1 - Gorgilla

Continue reading →

One often encounters the notion that an exceptional artist is touched by genius. People of a different metaphysical perspective might even suggest that such an artist is divinely inspired. Looking at the work of Jack Kirby, I am inclined to agree with both positions. Kirby’s work possesses an energy that is so prodigious that it suggests forces beyond ordinary human comprehension. Kirby seems to be directly accessing what he might refer to as “The Source.”

To describe what I’m getting at, it is helpful to speak of an outdated 19th century philosophy known as Vitalism, which in Webster’s dictionary is defined as “a doctrine that the functions of a living organism are due to a vital principle distinct from biochemical reactions.” The term Vitalism was introduced to me by Kirby lister, Peter Sattler, during a debate on the nature of Kirby’s great talent. 19th century chemist and philosopher, Carl Reichenbach later developed the theory of the Odic force, which could be described as a field of living electro-magnetic energy that permeates all things. Kirby, a chronicler of Thor’s Norse mythology and no stranger to all things Odic, appears to have a direct conduit to such an energy source, which is apparent in the extraordinary vitality of his artwork.

It is easy to dismiss a quaint concept such as Vitalism, particularly if one has a scientific reductionist perspective. However, Ernst Mayr, one of the 20th century’s leading evolutionary biologists stated, “It would be ahistorical to ridicule vitalists. When one reads the writings of one of the leading Vitalists like Driesch one is forced to agree with him that many of the basic problems of biology simply cannot be solved by a philosophy as that of Decartes, in which the organism is simply considered a machine.”

Vitalism, or something resembling it would continue to evolve as an idea. In the 1930’s, psychoanalyst Wilhelm Reich developed the idea of a universal life force that he called Orgone.

In Kirby’s magnum opus, The New Gods, the artist refers to The Source, an ineffable power that exists beyond even the comprehension of the New Genesis beings. The New Gods can harness the vital forces, but they are not the source of it. On page 20 of “the Pact” in New Gods #7, Izaya, New Genesis warrior, turns to the power of “The Source” to regenerate him in his new identity as Highfather. Kirby depicts the flaming hand writing its message on the wall, as vivid an image as the Old Testament’s Burning Bush. The hand ablaze is Kirby’s, compelled to create this modern mythology. The wall recalls the monolith from 2001, A Space Odyssey, a concept that Kirby will explore later in his career.

1 - The Source

Continue reading →

One of the most interesting aspects of sequential storytelling is the depiction of the passage of time. This most commonly takes place with the progression of panels, but also can function in the compositional structure of an individual panel. In his excellent article “That Old Jack Magic,” first published in Amazing Heroes 100 (1986) and now offered on the Kirby Museum website, Kirby scholar and biographer, Greg Theakston draws attention to a compositional tool that Kirby used to great effect. Theakston refers to it as the Big O, because its function is to lock our eyes into a circular pattern moving around the page. In showing an example of this, allow me to start with this obvious choice, a splash panel from Fighting American #4

1 - Fighting American

Continue reading →

When discussing his influences, Jack Kirby often spoke about Milton Caniff as an artist who had a significant effect on his development. Knowing only a bit of Caniff’s style, I never really saw the influence, until Kirby list member Glen Story posted a page from Terry and the Pirates that had a particular approach to the sequencing of a fight scene.

Seldom do we see this sort of thing in a comic book or strip, possibly because it is a luxury for an artist to devote so much panel story space to something as seemingly frivolous as a fight. There must be a strong desire on the part of the artist to create something cinematic in the way of action, and what could be more exciting than a good rousing slugfest.

1 - Caniff

Continue reading →

One of the most striking things one notices after studying Kirby’s work over time is his use of interior and most dramatically architectural shapes to give greater power to his compositions. Kirby used this method fairly early on, but he was focusing most of his attention on figures, and the backgrounds that he used to amplify the motion of his characters were generally given short shrift. Still, the use of the room’s interior here does provide more dynamic energy to Cap and Bucky’s scuffle with the gangsters. When Bucky throws the vase, Kirby uses a simple one point perspective treatment of bricks to give the panel more impact.

1 – Captain America Comics

Continue reading →