Post by rberman on Jul 27, 2020 12:25:38 GMT -5
Some artists are better known within their own artistic subculture than in the commercial world. James Owen was sixteen years old in 1986 when he exhibited his Pryderi Terra comic book at San Diego Comic Con and sat on a discussion panel with Will Eisner. His enthusiasm and art style caught the imagination of his better established peers. When a car accident left him unable to finish an issue of his Starchild comic, they came to his aid, and a teenager found his work being inked by Eisner, P. Craig Russell, Martin Wagner, Colleen Doran, and Dave Sim. Wagner, Sim, Doran, and Owen were joined by Jeff Smith at a series of convention appearances and were dubbed the “Fatal Five” of black and white indie comics. Pictures below from 1993-4 show Sim, Wagner, Owen (fair-haired, in glasses), Doran, and Smith with Neil Gaiman.
James Owen makes beautiful illustrations. Bernie Wrightson’s woodgrained Frankenstein drawings are an obvious point of comparison. Owen admits substantial influence from George Perez’ layouts on New Teen Titans and Crisis on Infinite Earths as well. Wendy Pini’s creative and commercial success with Elfquest served as a North Star of inspiration, though she doesn’t seem to have mingled as much with her fellow creators.
The members of the Fatal Five supported each other and interacted with their more successful peers, being championed by folks like Totleben and Bissette who shared Owens’ style. Alan Moore invited them to illustrate his song lyrics. Sim incorporated Owens’ character Humble Martin into Cerberus. Owen put Sim into Starchild as the Wolverine-looking “Serbius.” Neil Gaiman appeared regularly as young savant “Little Neil,” and wild-eyed Alan Moore was there too.
Owen’s work shares another trait with Colleen Doran’s A Distant Soil: He bit off more than he could chew. His first major work, Starchild, was envisioned as a 1,000 page graphic novel, but it petered off around page 300. It’s an ambitious fantasy tale intended to celebrate the power of story and storytellers. But it lacks coherent story. It’s supposed to be about two sets of twins, both sired by a human man and a faerie queen. The characters seem to know what the story is about, but they never really explain it to the reader. Owen tries to fill the gaps with frequent text narrative pages which end up being both repetitive and uninformative at the same time. The way to make people appreciate “story” is not to say “story is great!” but rather to tell a good story. Character. Motivation. Rising conflict. Choice. Climax. I would love to see the alternate reality in which Gaiman and Moore had tapped Owen to realize their ideas in pictures.
Like his compatriots, Owen rode high on the speculative wave of 1992-3, then crashed in the distributor implosion of 1995. Jim Valentino gave him a home at Image Comics, where Owen worked on a series of shorter tales under the banner of “Mythopolis.” Owen then republished his earlier works in a series of handsome trade paperbacks in 2000-2001, then in a lavish “twentieth anniversary” hardcover in 2014. It contains a prose attempt at the beginning of Fool’s Hollow story which succeeds much more than the comic book version did. Apparently Owen has spent the intervening years honing his narrative craft.
James Owen makes beautiful illustrations. Bernie Wrightson’s woodgrained Frankenstein drawings are an obvious point of comparison. Owen admits substantial influence from George Perez’ layouts on New Teen Titans and Crisis on Infinite Earths as well. Wendy Pini’s creative and commercial success with Elfquest served as a North Star of inspiration, though she doesn’t seem to have mingled as much with her fellow creators.
The members of the Fatal Five supported each other and interacted with their more successful peers, being championed by folks like Totleben and Bissette who shared Owens’ style. Alan Moore invited them to illustrate his song lyrics. Sim incorporated Owens’ character Humble Martin into Cerberus. Owen put Sim into Starchild as the Wolverine-looking “Serbius.” Neil Gaiman appeared regularly as young savant “Little Neil,” and wild-eyed Alan Moore was there too.
Owen’s work shares another trait with Colleen Doran’s A Distant Soil: He bit off more than he could chew. His first major work, Starchild, was envisioned as a 1,000 page graphic novel, but it petered off around page 300. It’s an ambitious fantasy tale intended to celebrate the power of story and storytellers. But it lacks coherent story. It’s supposed to be about two sets of twins, both sired by a human man and a faerie queen. The characters seem to know what the story is about, but they never really explain it to the reader. Owen tries to fill the gaps with frequent text narrative pages which end up being both repetitive and uninformative at the same time. The way to make people appreciate “story” is not to say “story is great!” but rather to tell a good story. Character. Motivation. Rising conflict. Choice. Climax. I would love to see the alternate reality in which Gaiman and Moore had tapped Owen to realize their ideas in pictures.
Like his compatriots, Owen rode high on the speculative wave of 1992-3, then crashed in the distributor implosion of 1995. Jim Valentino gave him a home at Image Comics, where Owen worked on a series of shorter tales under the banner of “Mythopolis.” Owen then republished his earlier works in a series of handsome trade paperbacks in 2000-2001, then in a lavish “twentieth anniversary” hardcover in 2014. It contains a prose attempt at the beginning of Fool’s Hollow story which succeeds much more than the comic book version did. Apparently Owen has spent the intervening years honing his narrative craft.
