I'VE ALWAYS admired the work of the German Romantic painter Caspar David Friedrich (1774-1840). Although regarded primarily as a landscape painter, Friedrich would often place human
figures into his scenes to express his recurring theme of the
insignificance of the individual in relation to the power of nature.
In Wanderer above the Mist, or Wanderer above the Sea of Fog (c. 1818), Friedrich shows us a man poised on a rocky peak, his back towards us, gazing out at a mist shrouded landscape. Seeing what the man sees allows us to share his feelings too, standing alone above a sea of fog, inspired by the grandeur of an incredible view. His stance is one of confidence though, even withstanding Friedrich's will at wanting to make him seem insignificant against that view.
In Dreamer, or Ruins of the Oybin Monastery (c. 1835), Friedrich has a man sitting in the arch of a decaying monastery in apparent contemplation. The twilight glow, as well as the towering ruins, are conspicuous and imposing, the man much less so. But what if he were positioned on the other side of the arch, staring right at us with his hands grasping at the ledge. Everything changes then. Suddenly the ruins take on a different appearance, becoming mysterious, even sinister perhaps.
Below are twelve classic Golden & Silver Age comics that seem to emulate Friedrich's basic composition, but in a thoroughly abstracted, macabre way. Some even conjure up the same feelings of awe and wonder (or trepidation) at facing the power and uncertainty of the unknown, or known, which replaces nature here. In an incalculable horror setting, man's relevance is often reduced to insignificance, just as it is in Friedrich's paintings.
The first two issue's of Adventures Into The Unknown (American Comics Group, 1948) had covers illustrated by an artist named Edvard Mortiz, who sometimes signed as Edward. Moritz created the same Friedrichian situation on each cover; a man and a woman confronting something greater than themselves. For issue No. 1, it's a dangerous old house the couple are about to enter. Bats are silhouetted against a harvest moon, lending additional atmosphere to an already frightening situation. For issue No. 2, the couple are floating on a raft towards a fearsome, skull-shaped island, its profile blazingly lit by the setting sun.
Spider-man creator Steve Ditko shows us a cloaked figure coming upon a rundown manor on the cover of This Magazine is Haunted No. 12 (Charlton, July, 1956). But take away the caption and
title and we are left speculating about who he is and what his motives
are? Is he merely a traveler seeking shelter in the only available
station house? Or is he someone its occupants should fear? Or is the manor itself the only thing of real consequence?
For Weird Horrors No. 9 (St. John, October, 1953), award winning artist Joe Kubert has a young couple approaching a decaying manor during a
fierce storm, but each reacts differently to what's ahead. While the woman appears apprehensive, the man seems calm, even
resolute. "We'll find shelter here," he seems to imply with his hand gesture. "And don't worry, Honey, there's nothing to fear here. It's just a harmless old house... "
Mimicking Friedrich in his own weird way, and probably inspired by a scene from the 1955 movie Revenge of the Creature, Steve Ditko's cover for Amazing Adult Fantasy No. 13 (Marvel, June, 1962) has us looking at the same skyline that his creature sees, as it slowly hoists itself out of the water. Is it awe that the beast feels as it stares out at the beyond, or is it merely formulating malevolent thoughts in preparation to an incursion?
On the cover of Fantastic Fears No. 7 (Ajax-Farrell, May/June, 1954), we know exactly what our couple is feeling as they witness a monstrous alien head bursting from the ground---shock and awe---and panic! This uncredited illustration is obviously more literal in its depiction than what Friedrich usually shows us in his persuasions. Ajax published only nine issues of Fantastic Fears, but nearly every cover was maniacally picturesque without sacrificing aesthetics.
For Spellbound No, 28 (Atlas, June, 1956), Sub-Mariner creator Bill Everett has his protagonist bursting through a door, astonished at seeing something that's not being shown to us. What the stiffs in the background are doing further adds to the mystery. They could be in pursuit, like the walking dead, or frozen, as if suspended in time. The caption literally reads "When Time Stood Still," so perhaps what the man has discovered is the actual thing which has mastered time.
Who doesn't fear getting lost in a labyrinth? Even a corn maze can be daunting, especially if a pack of bratty kids are running recklessly between the rows. Bill Everett interprets the gut reaction of a man who is beginning to realize that there is no escape. Not today. Not ever. This haunting cover is from Mystery Tales No. 44 (Atlas, August, 1956).
More Bill Everett, this time illustrating the cover of Strange Tales No. 58 (Atlas, May, 1957), with inking assistance by his friend Carl Burgos. No doubt we've all had awesome dreams about flying or floating through the air, but for the majority of people they occur but rarely. But if you did see somebody floating in the air for real I'd bet you'd be gaping slack-jawed just like these urbanites are.
Imagine footprints in the snow throwing armed men into a panic! Of course when the footprints don't resemble anything that we know of in nature it becomes pretty easy to empathize with the men's reaction. Bill Everett shines yet again with this macabre cover for Uncanny Tales No. 39 (Atlas, January, 1956).
Hopelessness, and yes, insignificance. But also grim determination. Artist Joe Maneely delivers the perspicuity perfectly in this post-apocalyptic flood scene from Uncanny Tales No. 35 (Atlas, September, 1955).
On Mystery Tales No. 32 (Atlas, August, 1954), Carl Burgos has us looking into the great beyond, or infinity, across an ether spanning bridge. Or does the bridge really go to nowhere, as the caption readily suggests. And is nowhere the same thing as infinity? With Burgos' thought provoking illustration, we are suddenly back into Friedrich's contemplative realm, awed by the spectacle of a bridge which in theory can't exist in our known world.
BECAUSE I'm only an admirer and not a critic, I prefer placing fine art and illustration on the same dimensional plane, but there is clearly a difference between the two mediums. Art is customarily subjective, open to perception and inviting interpretation, or speculation, while illustration is usually strict and undistorted, showing us a scene or an action that is precisely laid out, quite often in exacting detail. Both mediums lure us into their renderings using a variety of shared methods. With illustration, talented draftsmen do more than just provide basic visuals, they insert drama, comedy and mystery into their work, encouraging our imagination in almost the same way that fine artists do, by feeding our insatiable appetite for intellectual stimulation with profundity.
[© April 2019, Jeffersen]
