For the first time!
Read the technical specifications and descriptions OMITTED from the 1994 Guardians of the Galaxy Annual No. 4

Page 1 of 2

I never had a great affinity for the Guardians of the Galaxy. Yet another space-faring group of super-heroes running around and doing stuff. There’s anger, yelling, hinted-at romance, doing battle, avoiding battle, etc., etc.

I think I zoned out of space-faring super-heroes when Chris Claremont had the X-Men hook up with the Shi-Ar . . .  Then Bill Mantlo took a hand-axe to old pirate stories with his Swords of the Swashbucklers. By then I was propping my eyes open with toothpicks. Whoo boy.

But when Marvel Comics editor, Craig Anderson called for me to do the Guardians of the Galaxy’s big ole spaceship, Icarus, I said, “You betcha!” You see, 1994 was a dark year for this comic book professional. The comic book biz was sinking and no one knew why. (If you want a better idea, read Comic Wars by Dan Raviv Hardcover: 320 pages, ISBN 0-7679-0830-9. This is a terrific account of much of what went wrong. Us poor bums doing the work had very little idea so much was going sour around us.

I started by learning about the good ship Icarus. I was put in touch with the very nice comic book creator, Kevin West, and we yakked up a storm. I got what I needed from him and then I was put in touch with Michael Gallagher, another very accommodating comic book creator. Between these two guys, I had little to do in terms of searching for reference! They very kindly sent me their concept ideas and sketches and some good reference from the books. When you need to know something about a comic book the pencilers are the guys to seek. They have to know even more than the writer, as it is they who add the visual twists that place the story in “a” reality for the reader/viewer.

So, why am I writing about this middle-of-the-road team and their spaceship?

Because each of my complicated “tech” pages is a home run for me. An over-the-horizon, air-traffic-controller-alert home run. Each ship, each headquarters page, is a stand-alone beast of varying complexity which takes days of design and penciling and then days or weeks of inking and finishing and writing.

And because the Guardians of the Galaxy 1994 Annual No. 4 is the only comic book that contains a work of mine that was printed in a severely compromised fashion.

Now there is enough of the “call out” labeling done, so that readers may not have expected any more. But there is that gaping, yawning acre of empty space that tells a different story.

But before this perfidy occurred, Kevin, Mike and I were gamboling happily along. See below? Happy and unsuspecting . . .

Great Ceres, indeed! So there’s a good look at the Icarus.

The above sketch of the Icarus, the Guardians of the Galaxy Spaceship, came from Michael Gallagher. I found this angle was not sufficient to allow one to see far enough “into” the ship. With a ship as large as this, scale and what you could reasonably expect to see plays a big role in how lazy I can be. The more you can show, the more details you have to draw. When you can get down to seeing door-knobs, for example, you have to draw thresholds, hinges, door mats — well, you get the idea.

The splash page above is the Guardian of the Galaxy’s old ship, Drydock, getting turned into space dust. This is from Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 1 No. 26, May 1993. A nice reference picture.

The sketch below of the Icarus, the Guardians of the Galaxy Spaceship, is from Kevin West, showing slightly better proportions. I liked a leaner ship. Sure, we all know that spaceships can look like flying office buildings, but it’s harder to hear them go “whoosh” that way. The pointy end goes thataway.

Kevin West wrote, “The interior of the ship should include such standards as a med center, galley, gym (complete w/some kind of “virtual reality” danger room), various labs, workshop, recreation areas, conference rooms, an abundance of crew quarters & some type of green house to grow food.”

At right is my first sketch of the Icarus, the Guardians of the Galaxy Spaceship. This was the angle I liked and stuck with. I had heard a little bit about Prof. Bussard’s ram scoop concept. Of course, I had read all about it in early

But the idea that gigantic magnetic fields could be set up in a fan-shaped scoop pattern to guide in hydrogen atoms — located liberally throughout inter‑stellar space — and shove them into a fusion reactor to generate electricity was a totally real one. Who knows? They may happen some distant day. In the meantime, I had to switch the techno-babble generator to “overload” for this ship.

One thing I’d like to point out are those skinny, antennae-like masts sticking off the back end. There’s something about the Japanese and these things. There was a pretty cool Japanese anime movie that started a whole lot of space hardware on its way. But they had these kooky mast things sticking off them. What did they do? For me, it was what could they do! (They could put your eye out!) So you may note that my comrades-in-art shied away from explaining these things. But me? I waded in and labeled them, uhh, several things. I eventually settled on “Warp Wave Field Conditioner.” Yep, that’s right.

1994, the year this work was rendered and printed, was not long enough after for people to completely forget it. The look of the Icarus was clearly influenced by the shape of the Battlestar Galactica. The look of Galactica was okay — not bad for 1978! Now a lot of people hold that show up as a high water mark of sci-fi brilliance. But it was producer Glen Larsen capitalizing on Star Wars and demonstrating how “economical” TV could be with using footage over and over again.

Usually I am stuck with whatever oddball shape the comic book creators — to be fair — either spat out or labored mightily over. When I got to do something on my own, like with this piece, I could have some fun. I figured there would be a variety of shapes and in that way, perhaps a variety of ways to suggest that they were designed by engineers of different world races. I thought it would be fun to show just how big this thing was by showing how many other ships it carried. I finally got to design something for myself.

Then came the writing part. I was particularly proud of the serious foundations I had laid down. The highest high-technology I could come up with — this was in the days before “nanotechnology” was a part of everybody’s toothpaste! The entire hull was made out of carbon-60, which was brand new (as a discovery) back then. No one knew that it couldn’t be made into a super hull! I was really hoping to introduce new ideas to the series, suggest potential for the writers . . .  Let’s just say I worked really hard on the copy.

Next — Page 2:
I thought, finally comic book madness has claimed me. I look but I do not see. Where is my super special hard-worked for text?

The Punisher Armory. Put out by Marvel Comics. Hardly seems likely? No superheroes, no super powers. No stories, as we knew them; no panel-to-panel continuity. No page of small panels. Sort of a narrative that has only the character’s voice as the constant. Sometimes the technical guy (“Micro” Chip) threw in an entry. Mostly a gun on a table. As happy as I was with such a project I admit I found it strange. The Punisher was already one of Marvel’s most controversial characters. Not a “fantasy” doing veiled parallels to modern society—no; a kind’a real guy doing very human things right out of today’s headlines. And I was trying to make it even more real. But it was a good gig and going to be printed. Eventually, it would need a cover…

What to do? Covers are always hard—the fun kind of hard that Marvel thrived on. Back then, doing covers was the icing on the cake for the artist who did the interior. Except when the book was late, then having another person do it just saved time. Technically speaking the cover is slightly larger than an interior page and cover art rates were 120% of an artist’s page rate. So it was a good deal. That little extra bit of money was to encourage one to “go to town” on detail or execution of action. More than the usual design “oomph.”

Don Daley had been doing Punisher covers for months and months at that point. He was the Editor of the whole line, so he knew what went into a Punisher cover. Big booms, guns and screams—those were the elements of a good one. I had taken on the Armory as almost an “answer book” to the regular line of Pun titles. The character was giving comics a hard time; too violent, unrealistic, glorifying vigilantism, etc., etc. I was putting in a slower, more thoughtful Punisher. The man who has to train in order to be able to pick up any weapon, any time and deliver bone-blasting justice to—well, you know… (continued)

Published by Marvel Comics in The Punisher Armory No. 2, June, 1991

Published by Marvel Comics in The Punisher Armory No. 1, July, 1990

Eliot R. Brown 1979-caption

The time was 1979. The place was the “old” Bullpen — for me and the guys below, this was a nice place. Sure, it was a little run down and showed signs of hard use, but it was home. High pressure times were rare and almost all the time we had fun.

Stu Schwarzberg 1979

This Bullpen was at 575 Madison Avenue, between 56th and 57th Streets in Manhattan. Nice address! I got my job there in late 1978, I ran a new-fangled type of photostat camera. This was before the days of oh-so easy xerography! A stat camera was needed to change the size of black & white artwork. Or make good copies of artwork. There were three cameras! Stu Schwarzberg had the biggest and oldest camera. Stuie was one of the drollest, nicest guys with an utterly wicked humor.

Robbie Carosella 1979

Robbie Carosella was my partner in crime, together we ground out hundreds of stats per day. He was a good comrade whose friendship I still value. The room that was the Marvel Bullpen had surprisingly few desks — especially compared to its hey days of the middle 1980s. Robbie and I were located down a long hall from the Bullpen. On the way was George Roussos and John Tartaglione’s office, Dave Cockrum and for a while, Andy Yanchus’ office. A couple of editors were there too, but this tribute is not for them, for now.

Mike Higgins,

Joe Albelo 1979

Andy Yanchus 1979

Rick Parker 1979

Mike Higgins, Morrie Kuramoto, Joe Albelo, Ron Zalme, Rick Parker and Andy Yanchus all were in one room. These guys were all doing art corrections, lettering corrections, making whole new pages out of scraps — anything that came along. Andy was the staff colorist, who made painstakingly precise color changes. The color guides were a strange art all unto themselves!

Ralph Machio and Ron Zalme 1979

Ron Zalme was the guy in charge of doing covers. He had to pull together a dozen different aspects involving art, legal and technical issues of production (for some reason I have few pictures of Ron, so this is one with editorial stalwart, Ralph Macchio, informing us that Ron is a human bomb). Joe Albelo was a jack-of-all-trades who jumped from task to task with ease. Rick Parker was one of the fastest letterers of all time. Rick was also a fine artist who had several shows within his well-known downtown haunt, The Barking Dog Museum!

Morrie Kuramoto 1979

Morrie Kuramoto was a letterer who had been in Marvel’s Bullpen since the late 50s. To say he was a crotchety old coot would be an insult to crotchety old coots everywhere. But we valued his grim visaged assessment of all of us. Morrie usually put together covers and letters columns. But like all Bullpenners, he could do anything.

Danny Crespi (L) and Stu Schwarzberg 1979

Danny Crespi was another fellow of long standing in the business and possessing great talent. Danny was in charge of the Bullpen. Lettering, in those pre-computer days, involved knowing typefaces but also how to get that look on the boards. Danny was a master who was still doing freelance at the time. Watching him work was a treat. I like this picture of Danny and Stu — looming in the foreground — because it looks like a photo from a bad TV show where Danny is the irate Dad yelling at the ne’er-do-well son, Stu.

John Romita, Sr. (seated) Dave Cockrum 1979

John Romita, Sr. was the staff Art Director. No one really knew what he did, but of course, he could do anything well. The world knew him as the artist of The Amazing Spider-Man. John was also one of the most pleasant guys I’ve ever met. In the picture is another terrific talent, Dave Cockrum, who was a staff correction artist.

Mary MacPherran 1979

Mary MacPherran, or Mary Mac to all of us for years! was the graceful soul of the Bullpen. She wasn’t really a part of it by the time I got there, but she was Danny’s assistant, then moved to another department. Over time, she moved back into editorial — but that’s another story. Mary had been on staff since she was a kid — she used to be Stan’s secretary in the late 1960s.

Marie Severin 1979

Marie Severin was one of those magical talents who would do things before your eyes that would boggle your mind. I remember her having to get on her hands and knees to lay color onto a gigantic photostat of some artwork mounted on Masonite — to be shipped to a convention. Marie happened to have been a master colorist, but this was asking a lot. She took it with the good grace of a lady, artfully blending the difficult color dyes with a large brush — only cursing a little here and there.

George Roussos 1979

John Tartagleone 1979

Speaking of colorists, George Roussos was our other staff colorist. George had been around comics for decades. No one knew how old George was. George was also a remarkably talented inker who had worked with the creator of Batman on the first strip of that character! This picture of George is a favorite of mine because he is outside the office using a new lens. George and I bonded over photography — one of his passions. The one funny thing about George, was that for a colorist, he dressed in the most drab outfit possible! Well, he rode the Long Island Rail Road and wanted to blend in there. George shared his office with John Tartagleone, a legendary inker and penciler. John seemed to be a reincarnation of an old master. He was so good, that he took a sabbatical to pencil the “Mother Theresa” book. He was filled in for by Bob Camp, but that was later enough so that Bob is not in this collection.

Jack Morelli 1979

Looking at this picture of Jack Morelli, I find it hard to believe that he was actually working on staff by early 1979. He appears to be about 15. Which I think he was. He went to the High School of Art & Design, like so many Marvel people, which was just down the street on Second Ave. He would walk over and pick up some freelance. Jack was such a good letterer — now perhaps the best in the business — that after graduation, he immediately was given a staff position. By then we were good friends — soon to become best friends and still are to this day.

This short essay on the Marvel Bullpen of late 1978 to about 1979-ish would be incomplete if I did not mention two other Bullpenners.

Mark Rogan was my first co-worker. He was this energetic and broadly funny Irishman. But he only lasted 3 months (I’ve been told I can be wearying to work with . . . ). He tried to move into the desk-side of the Bullpen. I believe he felt he was not making enough money and so moved on. But Mark was a glib and hard-working chum. Rogan coined the phrase, “We’re eating stat soup!” as a sign of how hard we worked and how little we were paid

Mark Rogan 1979

Rogan’s standard, rapid-fire response to a casual ‘thanks’ was, “Don’t thank me, thank God for making me so good.” Let’s just say he said it often enough that this small gesture of “appreciation” — this T-Shirt with his famous line — was the least we could do.

Elaine Heinle 1979

Another person who spent little time in the Bullpen, moving on shortly after I was hired, was Elaine Heinle. Elaine was a gifted letterer with a quest for perfection — I say this because she would often come in to the stat room for a shot of a small area as an aid to help her fix a trouble spot.

I know I said, “two” but there was a third person in this group, one who spent even less time in the Bullpen than the above, but whose presence was crucial! The fellow who serviced the Pos One Photostat cameras! Bob Ruth and I spent a lot of time together as he needed to visit our ailing machines quite a lot. We used those machines hard and they were not really made for the super high-volume, raw-acreage that we forced through them!

Bob Ruth 1979

Here’s Bob as I best remember him — hands thrust deep into the belly of the beast! Bob and I shared birth dates and birth years (coming up on ole’ 54, ‘ey, Bob?) and we became chummy. Bob and I shared an enthusiasm for the technical side of photography and typography and he and I spent some time exchanging opinions. Compugraphic, the parent company, eventually could not move quickly enough with the times for us; electro-photostatic printing would take over the Marvel Bullpen — that’s Xeroxes to you and me! The big cameras would mostly be used for making full-sized copies of printer’s negatives — the negs used to make the printer’s printing plates that made the comics. These large prints would be sold to anyone who wanted to print their own comics — say, foreign countries. For example, I understand Mexico essentially began printing Marvel comics from issue “#1’s” around then and for many years after — but all in Spanish.

Bob Ruth 1979

Here’s another shot of Bob hard at work! And Rogan at his favorite pastime, lounging in his favorite scavenged office chair!

So that’s “my” Marvel Comics Bullpen. Minus the editors, assistant editors and of course, Jim Shooter, Sol Brodsky or Stan Lee. The Bullpenners were not the guys who made the comics. We were the guys who fixed them, finished them or got them ready for the color separators and printers. There was a big gray area between work and play. We did work hard because we were tired at the end of any day, but it was a good tired. We faced the next day with enthusiasm because we weren’t just working for Stan or Jim or Sol. We knew we were also working for Dr. Strange, Captain American, The Hulk and Spidey. In fact all of Marveldom Assembled. It was different and it was great.

All photos and text © 2008-2009 by Eliot R. Brown. Do not copy.