Tuesday, May 30, 2006
ALEX TOTH (1928-2006)
I have loved and respected the artwork of Alex Toth for 30 or more years, so deceptively simple, open and clean with a line to kill for. It is not flashy or noodled, its beauty lays in its unsurpassed sparseness and form. So in the passing of this giant of the comic art field I am saddened. His legend lives on. Let me pass on just one story of this legend. I never met the fiery artist but I was the student of his foil from one of his major myths.
Bob K. (some of you know of who I talk) was a twisted, power mad, writer turned editor at DC Comics who used his position and power to gratify his starved ego. Little Bobby K. was my teacher at the Kurbert school soon after he gained his well deserved professional comeuppance at the hands of one of his past ego victims who had risen through the ranks to the position of editor and cheif of DC Comics.
What did this professional worm, the Bobby K. have to do with Alex Toth? Stick with me. You know the character of a man by his enemies. Alex had a reputation at not taking excrement from anybody. Bobby K. was the crowned king of excrement giving, the queen mother of bitchy critique.
Mister K. shared an office with another DC editor and Alex was working for this editor at the time of our story. The story tells that the editor with whom Alex had pages was out of the office when Alex Toth came in to drop off his said pages and pick up his check.
Here are my pages for editor X. I need to pick up my check. You can do that for me.
Bobby the K. never missed a chance to pull out his knifes and make himself important by tearing down the work of others. He had once literally ripped up the artwork of Mort Drucker screaming that his artwork was shit and that he had no business in the business. It made no difference that this was not his artist, this ego must be fed.
Let us see what we have here? Oh no, no. this will never do. This is all wrong, wrong. You call yourself an artist . . .
Our legend ends with Alex Toth dangling Robert K. from a 40th story window screaming Give me my check you son of a bitch or I will drop you! Forget the fact that the windows on the upper floors of the DC building do not open. This is myth and facts just get in the way of the story.
And it makes such a good story. Alex got the check of course. That is at the core of the myth. What he did is unimportant. The man had a temper of legend on him that walked like a demon sword before him. Having suffered under Bobby the K. as a teacher (sic) I know that Alex Toth was the hero of our little play and much respected it the halls of comicdom. I heard this story first from a Kubert teacher. And I, and all my fellow students, loved Toth all the more for whatever he did to create this myth. And ever for the very real beauty of his art. He did a Hot Wheels series of comic books that are so amazing.
I am going to miss you Alex. I am going to miss seeing new art wonders. I never met you but I was real dear friends with your legend. ¶ 7:55 AM
I have loved and respected the artwork of Alex Toth for 30 or more years, so deceptively simple, open and clean with a line to kill for. It is not flashy or noodled, its beauty lays in its unsurpassed sparseness and form. So in the passing of this giant of the comic art field I am saddened. His legend lives on. Let me pass on just one story of this legend. I never met the fiery artist but I was the student of his foil from one of his major myths.
Bob K. (some of you know of who I talk) was a twisted, power mad, writer turned editor at DC Comics who used his position and power to gratify his starved ego. Little Bobby K. was my teacher at the Kurbert school soon after he gained his well deserved professional comeuppance at the hands of one of his past ego victims who had risen through the ranks to the position of editor and cheif of DC Comics.
What did this professional worm, the Bobby K. have to do with Alex Toth? Stick with me. You know the character of a man by his enemies. Alex had a reputation at not taking excrement from anybody. Bobby K. was the crowned king of excrement giving, the queen mother of bitchy critique.
Mister K. shared an office with another DC editor and Alex was working for this editor at the time of our story. The story tells that the editor with whom Alex had pages was out of the office when Alex Toth came in to drop off his said pages and pick up his check.
Here are my pages for editor X. I need to pick up my check. You can do that for me.
Bobby the K. never missed a chance to pull out his knifes and make himself important by tearing down the work of others. He had once literally ripped up the artwork of Mort Drucker screaming that his artwork was shit and that he had no business in the business. It made no difference that this was not his artist, this ego must be fed.
Let us see what we have here? Oh no, no. this will never do. This is all wrong, wrong. You call yourself an artist . . .
Our legend ends with Alex Toth dangling Robert K. from a 40th story window screaming Give me my check you son of a bitch or I will drop you! Forget the fact that the windows on the upper floors of the DC building do not open. This is myth and facts just get in the way of the story.
And it makes such a good story. Alex got the check of course. That is at the core of the myth. What he did is unimportant. The man had a temper of legend on him that walked like a demon sword before him. Having suffered under Bobby the K. as a teacher (sic) I know that Alex Toth was the hero of our little play and much respected it the halls of comicdom. I heard this story first from a Kubert teacher. And I, and all my fellow students, loved Toth all the more for whatever he did to create this myth. And ever for the very real beauty of his art. He did a Hot Wheels series of comic books that are so amazing.
I am going to miss you Alex. I am going to miss seeing new art wonders. I never met you but I was real dear friends with your legend. ¶ 7:55 AM
