It's a look that I think came to prominence with Boris Vallejo and his followers. Some of Boris' early work is quite good, but it began to take on that plastic, posed, shiny, look benday mentioned after a bit (personally I think some of it is the influence of Julie Bell on his work, but that's another topic). For every Boris piece I like and think works, there's 8 or 9 I can't stand, and a lot has to do with the excesses you mentioned that often crop up in the work of Jusko and others who are obviously influenced by Boris' body of work. There may be some of it in Frazetta, and that may be what Boris picked up on form the Frazetta influence rather than the Frazetta elements that work better, but it never came to dominate Frazetta's work the way it did Boris and the school of fantasy illustrators that followed in his wake. 

-M

Again I find myself in agreement with the above by berk and mrp (and yes, Julie Bell, I had almost forgotten about that spectre.)

Fantasy painters who strive for hyper-realism to the point of photographic imitation, as is too often the case with Boris, coupled with a garish lighting I find rarely do the work any favour, despite the impressive technical achievement. Fantasy needs to evoke something beyond the quotidian, the mere imitation of the apparent, of the overtly real, regardless of the outlandishness of the subject. It needs to evoke atmosphere and wonder.

Compare the work of Jeff Jones to later Boris. One stirs the senses and the soul, the other leaves nothing to be desired.

In general, I prefer line work in fantasy over painting, because of the pitfalls inherent in certain painters styles. Yes, I am thinking of some Frazetta here, although I think Fritz does a good job in general with atmosphere on his Burroughs work and Lancer Conan covers. This is a gorgeous Frazetta classic completely capturing the primal "truth" of Tarzan

I love Jones' fantasy work; much more, it terms of the emotions it stirs, than I like Frazetta's. It's a pity that while Jones did many covers for REH books, we never got the chance to see a SSoC cover done by him.

I used to be a huge fan of the Brothers Hildebrandt as a kid in the 70's. I can't recall how many hours I spent looking at their Tolkein calendars. I was much more familiar with the imagery of Tolkein before I was with the words of Tolkein himself. I saw the work before I read it.

Tim (the other twin is Greg) died in 2006.

Some of the Hildebrandts' stuff is pleasant enough in its limited way, but they wouldn't be my choice for any of my favourite books or characters. Still, as that Tolkien-derivative fantasy sub-genre goes, it's probably better than most. Nice use of shadow, the colour palette isn't too glaring and flashy, and I especially I like the solidity of their forms, animate and inanimate - they have a feeling of mass and weight that's lacking in a lot of fantasy art.

I don't like Caldwell much. Too bright and showy, for me. The SSoC cover has a darker tone, but it looks like an early work and looks crude to the point of awkwardness without any compensating sense of crude force. I can't help noting, though - it's hilarious how the serpentine monster's ribbed and elongated torso is echoed in Conan's absurdly long, narrow, er, whatever you call that thing he's wearing between his legs. Unconscious symbolism or a deliberate joke?

As much as I love Frazetta, I have never been a big fan of his depictions of Tarzan. There is too much of the brute in his portrayal of the Jungle Lord, which doesn't tally with Burroughs' description. Frazetta's hulking frames work much better with Conan than Tarzan.

SSoC #97
------------


The leopard men of Darfar!
Script by Michael Fleisher
Art by Pablo Marcos

As youngsters say nowadays: "I can't even".

After last issue's story, which was one of Fleisher's best in this magazine, "the leopard men of Darfar" is unfortunately one of the worst.

In all honesty, I hated it less upon this most recent reading than in the 80s, but it is still a painful experience.

What saving grace it has is the Marcos artwork. I am not a fan of the way Pablo twists his characters' limbs in sometimes awkward ways, but some images look pretty good anyway; I especially like the way Marcos's cross-hatching renders the way light plays on limbs and objects.



Some dialogue is also amusing; one of the character is a very verbose scholar, and his logorrhoea makes for a welcome comedic relief to what is otherwise an implausible and almost offensive plot. To wit: 

"Nay, you needn't fear that I was about to bore you, barbarian! For, indeed it's clear you're a man who'd much prefer to learn life's lessons from personal experience than from oral recitations! Still and all, however, you may find yourself appreciative of some sort of advance introduction to what is surely one of the greatest natural wonders of the Black Kingdoms... Mozembi Sawabi! Which, freely translated, means... cataract of doom!" (This long-winded speech is delivered as the boat everyone is traveling on rushes toward said cataract). 

The tale is set during Conan's days at the side of Bêlit, the Queen of the Black Coast and leader of the dreaded Black Corsairs. You know, Bêlit, "Conan's first great love"? The one with whom Conan was actually happy?


Apparently not good enough, for as this story opens we learn that Conan, seeking a respite from the corsair life, has taken his leave of his mate and has decided to work for a rich Stygian merchant from Luxur.

Yes, Conan of the Black Corsairs has decided to dump his lady love for a while and go looking for a job in Stygia. The country that Bêlit particularly hates, the ships of which she and Conan regularly sink, the country where the two pirates will burn a fleet under the walls of Khemi and the king of which they will murder. That Stygia.


It makes perfect sense for Conan to take a working holiday there.

*Sigh*... I apologize... please forgive my petulant tone. But it is no less than this story deserves.

Okay... So let's play the cards that we were dealt. Conan is hired by a Stygian merchant to recover his spoiled and pampered daughter Anya, who was abducted by a bandit chief. (Kudos to Pablo Marcos: the bandits actually look like Stygians. And tip of the hat to Fleisher as well: when Conan attacks their camp, one of them actually swears by Set). The Cimmerian defeats the raiders and recovers the girl, but that doesn't mean his mission is over: the main force of the miscreants is not present (their leader included), and the abducted girl doesn't want to go home. Why? Well, her natural-sounding speech must be reproduced here:

<i>"My father? Pah! I spit on my father! All he ever cared about was keeping me chaste and chaperoned so that I might remain unsoiled and virginal until my marriage! But it is Tomak Tharn, the robber chieftain who abducted me, who has initiated me in the ways of love and the fleshy joys of womanhood"!</i>

That bit about the "fleshy joys of womanhood" had been bursting out laughing.

Conan states that he loves gold far more than the girl loves her bandit chief and he forces her to come with him. Unfortunately, the barbarian and his shrill-voiced captive are in turn captured by slavers while reasting in an oasis.

Meanwhile, Tomak Tharn discovers that his lover has been taken from him, which destabilizes the fellow to such an extent that he swears by Tarim's blood. (I should have known that a Stygian swearing by Set was too good to last forever). He then swears by Ishtar, and again by Mitra as he kills one of his own men who survived Conan's earlier attack. The bandits next start following the Cimmerian and the girl.

These two are next seen among chained slaves being driven by camel-riding men; they make the acquaintance of Lesuthi Pa, a Darfari who became a Nemedian scholar and is now making his way back home. He's the one who talks a lot.