Showing posts with label Herb Trimpe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Herb Trimpe. Show all posts

Friday, April 24, 2015

Judging Herb Trimpe by His Covers

Jim's single lapse in judgment on this blog
has been excluding this cover from his
top ten list.
In remembering Herb Trimpe earlier this week, I neglected to sing the praises of his flawless sense of design.

Browse Jim's gallery of classic Incredible Hulk covers (if you haven't already), and you'll notice right away how dynamic and engaging they are.  Every one has an entry point for your eye and uses lines and composition to guide you through the image.  In the Bronze Age, in particular, Trimpe's covers are fantastic road trips, with little stops along the way at clever new super-villain costumes, exciting blurbs hinting at the story, and intriguing facial expressions on background characters.

If you're not impressed, consider how well these covers work even if you don't care for Trimpe's style.  That's an impressive feat: composition so bulletproof it can catch your eye without the benefit of noodly styling.  If you're still unconvinced, try this mental exercise:  Picture any Trimpe Hulk cover drawn by your least favorite comics artist.  It still works, doesn't it?  Even if you imagine it drawn by that clown you hate!

Heck, even the Hurricane captures my
imagination!  What's with all those cables?
Why does he need headgear under his mask?
Then there's the matter of his costume designs.  One of these days, we'll sit down and have a long talk about what makes a super-suit good.  Then you can all decide I'm a crackpot not worth listening to, since you'll have your own religious convictions on the matter.  In the meantime, I'll note that Trimpe's designs are unfailingly engaging, especially his work on the original Captain Britain costume, which reverse-engineers the mandate of Captain America's look (a man wearing a flag) to great effect.

Trimpe's costumes are largely symmetrical and two-tone, but from that simple palate, he constructs some memorable patterns.  More importantly, Trimpe costumes are easily identifiable at a distance, making his villains easy to pick out from the backgrounds and allowing his heroes to dominate even the most crowded covers.

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and I'm confident Trimpe's covers and costumes will be homaged, revisited, reimagined, and repurposed for a long time to come.

What are some of your favorites?

— Scott

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Remembering Herb Trimpe, Underappreciated Icon

Herb Trimpe at East Coast Comicon,
just last weekend.
© Luigi Novi/Wikimedia Commons
Barely two weeks after Roger Slifer's passing, I find myself reading, "Herb Trimpe, Co-Creator of Wolverine, Dies at 75."

As Patrick Reed on ComicsAlliance points out, Trimpe "was quick to correct anyone who credited him and Len Wein as creators of Wolverine, explaining that while they developed the character, the actual creation was handled by Roy Thomas and John Romita."  Besides:  As significant as Wolverine is, Trimpe's role in the character's history is minor and makes woefully inadequate boilerplate for a man whose career is nearly synonymous with the Marvel Age of Comics.

Herb Trimpe was a fixture in Marvel Comics when I was growing up — penciling nearly a hundred issues of The Incredible Hulk from 1968 until 1975 before moving on to every other super-hero in the Marvel stable and cornering the market on tie-ins to licensed properties.  Trimpe brought the Shōgun Warriors to Marvel and gave the company's version of Godzilla a distinctive look that lies somewhere between Toho and a pot-bellied chameleon.  In the 1980s, he worked on everything from The Transformers and G.I. Joe to Indiana Jones.

During the 1990s, Trimpe infamously reinvented his style.  Gone were were the dynamic compositions with distinctively dull (to my kid eyes, at least), smooth, shadowless figures, replaced with grimacing, stippled musclemen — Trimpe's imitation of the Image-influenced style of the decade.  The change was poorly received, and Trimpe, admittedly a bit naïve about the business end of comics at times, found himself in the crosshairs of ageism and bankruptcy cuts at Marvel Comics.  After decades of being that rarest of creatures in the comics business, a salaried staff artist working at one of the Big Two, Trimpe found himself unceremoniously downsized in 1996, scrambling for freelance work that never amounted to a living in an industry imploding even faster than it had exploded at the beginning of the decade.

Jim rounded up his 10 favorite Trimpe
Hulk covers back in 2013.  Click here.
Those of us who'd grown up with Trimpe shuffled our feet and didn't look each other in the eye when we talked about what had happened.  It was ageism, right?  But maybe that's just part of a business where you're perpetually selling to adolescents and post-adolescents?  Trimpe's shift in style hadn't been well-received, but surely he'd return to his classic lines and land on his feet at some independent publisher.  After all, the late '90s were awash in soon-to-be-classic "retro" books from Mark Waid, Kurt Busiek, and their contemporaries.

Trimpe, however, couldn't wait around for the page to turn.  He was a grown man with grown-man responsibilities, including children in college, and couldn't eke out a living on freelance projects.  So he went back to school, got a teaching certificate, and shook the dust of the comics industry off his boots for a few years as he began mentoring a new generation of illustrators.

In 2000, he wrote a seminal piece for The New York Times on ageism in comics — one that's woefully underlinked when we talk about the issue today.  In it, he shares selections from his unemployment journal detailing the trepidation and promise of embarking on a new career late in life.  (Trimpe was 56 when Marvel terminated his contract.)

Articles would occasionally show up in the mainstream about Trimpe's teaching career, sometimes in relation to economic woes like the bursting of the dot-com bubble, sometimes as feel-good stories about getting a second act in life.  Within a couple of years, he started showing up on the trade-show circuit, sketching in artists' alleys and gabbing about his incomparable history with Marvel.  By all accounts, he had stories about nearly every title he'd worked on or creator he'd collaborated with — all of them unfailingly professional and courteous.  He was a time capsule of information on the most contentious periods of Marvel history, from Stan Lee handing over the reigns in the '70s to the musical chairs of editorship-in-chief to the reign of Emperor Shooter to the boom and bust and bankruptcy.

My first thought on reading the news of Herb Trimpe's passing was, "Thank God he lived long enough to enjoy a bit of reevaluation and appreciation."  The internet was only now beginning to appreciate how prolific and professional Trimpe had been during his heyday, and his second career as an educator and elder statesman on the con circuit lent even more weight to the growing admiration of readers who entered the hallowed halls of Marvel fandom only after Trimpe had cleaned out his desk.

If you'd like to remember Trimpe's influence with a gift, his family has recommended contributing to the Kerhonkson Accord First Aid Squad, whose good work in the community you can imagine, or Hero Initiative, which helps many aging comics creators in times of need.

Trimpe's clean composition, Barry Windsor Smith's lush inks.
Neither artist ever looked better than in the Machine Man mini-series.
@ Amazon
— Scott

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